TV REVIEW : ‘Secret Passions’ Found Witless, Boring

It took a half-dozen writers to come up with “Secret Passions,” a bad sign right there. Yet even by the minimal standards of TV soap operas, this gay-themed concoction turns out to be a piece of hack work that is all but unwatchable.

The ballyhooed sexual content of this 60-minute pilot proves less daring than “Lassie.” Worse, the rococo convolutions of the plot, which revolves around a political fund-raiser, have the built-in yawn quotient of a bottle of Ny-Tol. Viewers--gay or straight--will have trouble staying awake during this soap if producers David Gadberry and Steve Wilbur ever manage to launch it as a series on late-night cable.

A teeming cast of characters--18 by this count--are ludicrously phony; the performances invariably mind-numbing, and the story devoid of either secret passions or not-so-secret reality.

After a catchy song that thumps along disco-style--”Secret passions/it burns you inside”--we meet these central figures:

* Dastardly Charles Cavanaugh, a gay twit of a real estate developer who likes back rubs from his body guard/lover almost as much as he likes to scheme.

* Sharp-tongued City Council candidate June Tshwaila, who has “three strikes” against her in the upcoming election because, as Cavanaugh reminds her while offering his endorsement as a political pawn, she is “black, a woman and a lesbian.”

* Cynical Rev. Arthur Dimsdale, a hellfire-and-damnation preacher at the Christian Center who believes that “a festering evil is creeping across the land”--namely homosexuality.

* A square local prosecutor on his way to church who actually says, “It’s Sunday morning in Orange County, and I’m the district attorney who has a reputation to uphold.” As he also says, “to coin an old phrase, cliches do not a problem solve.”

And let’s not overlook the D.A.’s teen-age son, a closet case who hides subversive (presumably gay) literature under his pillow; his longhaired friend, who is in trouble with Cavanaugh’s entourage of baddies over the theft of a package (presumably drugs); a gay businessman and his street-tough lover.

There are also Cavanaugh’s butch assistant Elise, otherwise known as “Mrs. Hitler”; a lesbian rock singer, whom Cavanaugh wants to turn into a star; her weak, alcoholic lover-manager; and a nasty gay politician who favors loud shirts and gives racial offense by squinting his eyes to say “ sayonara .”

The production values for this shoestring operation are no worse than might be expected from an amateur venture. But technical lapses are hardly the show’s most glaring problems.

If nothing else, “Secret Passions” proves that straight daytime soap operas have no monopoly on dumbness. You could go so far as to say that by comparison with this witless offering, the daytime soaps are provocative, brilliant and socially redeeming.

‘SECRET PASSIONS’

A pilot for a TV soap opera produced by David Gadberry, with associate producer Steve Wilbur. Directed by Wilbur. Written by Walter Brown, Gary Eilts, Lisa Burke, Wilbur and Gadberry. Director of photography Norman Baker. With Michael Bruno; David Burrill; Hal Cobb; Bobby Costa; Gadberry; Lee Hampton; Kent Harter; Eilts; Sally Landers; Veronic Laurence; Connie Misen; J. Kelly Poorman; Phil Riley; Mack Rusbarsky; Rudy Salazar; Lynn Segerbloom; Kevin Shaw; Jean Shy; Michael Stewart; Bart Story; Olivia Wood. The song “Secret Passion” composed and sung by Burrill.