STAGE REVIEW : A FUTURE FOR ‘BURN THIS’

It’s a good bet that Lanford Wilson’s “Burn This” has a future--but not at three hours.

That was its playing time at the Mark Taper Forum at Wednesday night’s press opening, and one didn’t feel regret as the play began its landing preparations towards the end of the second act. It wasn’t a question of rejecting Wilson’s characters. We had simply been in their company long enough.

Since Wilson’s people are very quick with words, all that needs to be done is to thin out their conversation. And, perhaps, to clean it up a bit. For a romantic comedy, the dialogue gets fairly explicit.

But a romantic comedy, it is. Like many a modern romance, it starts in the sack, or in this case the sofa. Joan Allen, a modern dancer, is comforting John Malkovich, a wild-talking guy from New Jersey, on the death of his younger brother, who was also her dance partner. It’s late, they both get a little crazy (Malkovich already was), and one thing leads to another.

That’s enough of that, says Allen to herself when her visitor leaves in the morning. You don’t bring a mutt like this to dance recitals. Anyway, she’s already seeing a perfectly nice screenwriter (Jonathan Hogan), who shares her career priorities and her taste in crystal stemware.

Reviewer’s honor forbids me to say who gets the girl. But it all comes out as an old romantic might predict, with the assistance of a young romantic: the gay guy who shares the loft with Allen (Lou Liberatore). Not that our lovers will live happily ever after. We’re talking the ‘80s here. But Beauty has momentarily tamed the Beast. And the Beast has brought out the woman--and the artist--in Beauty.

There’s nothing new in “Burn This.” There rarely is in Wilson’s plays. His skill is in cutting familiar theatrical patterns to fit contemporary situations; or, to put it another way, in finding contemporary situations that will accommodate the old patterns.

His plays are always constructed, and you can sometimes hear the hammering. The gay roommate here, for example, serves the function of that old standby from the plays of Arthur Wing Pinero, the confidant. At the same time, there are plenty of gay guys rooming with women today, so the device isn’t from out of the blue.

As usual with this author, there are questions about certain turns in the story--why Allen’s character calls up her yuppie boyfriend to mend her fences after a disastrous New Year’s Eve, and then tells him she can’t see him today (some apology)--but no questions about the theatricality of the scenes.

Director Marshall Mason and a superb cast help see to that. The acting has the first-time feeling of an improvisation, with each actor beautifully sensitive to the time, the place, the urge, the other person.

There’s a terrific fight scene between Malkovich and Hogan as the yuppie boyfriend: just a few punches, but the viewer can feel them. (Randy Kovitz helped stage the scene.) But almost as much tension is felt when Malkovich decides to take a late-night stroll on the fire escape outside Allen’s loft window. (John Lee Beatty’s loft apartment is beautifully barren.) Malkovich is just weird enough to jump, and it’s a great relief when he comes back in.

The little moments are lived as fully as the big ones. The banter between Allen and Liberatore tells us that they’ve been through a lot together in that loft--neither may ever have this concerned a friend again. In a later scene, there’s just the trace of a possible “moment” between Liberatore and Hogan, the yuppie boyfriend--not something that either would act on, but a recognition.

Allen also does splendid interior work. In that morning-after scene, for example, she’s both amused by her roll in the hay with Malkovich and a little shocked--is her biological clock making her go haywire? If in the long run, “Burn This” doesn’t quite convince, in the short run it is frequently on the money.

‘BURN THIS’ Lanford Wilson’s play, at the Mark Taper Forum. Presented by Center Theatre Group, in association with Circle Repertory Company. Director Marshall W. Mason. Set John Lee Beatty. Costumes Laura Crow. Lighting Dennis Parichy. Fight direction Randy Kovitz. Dramaturg Jack Viertel. Production stage manager Mary Michele Miner. Stage manager Tami Toon. With Joan Allen, Jonathan Hogan, Lou Liberatore and John Malkovich. Plays Tuesdays-Saturdays at 8 p.m.; Sundays at 7:30 p.m., with Saturday-Sunday matinees at 2:30 p.m. Closes Feb. 15. 135 N. Grand Ave. (213) 410-1062.

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