SENSITIVE "AS IS" PRESENTED WITH COMPASSION

There are some subjects audiences would just as soon not hear about in the theatre, and surely one of them is AIDS, the lethal illness dramatized by William M. Hoffman is his play AS IS. But it would be a mistake for any theatregoer to avoid this work out of squeamishness. Strange as it may sound, Mr. Hoffman has turned a tale of the dead and the dying into the liveliest play to be seen in the Metroplex in several seasons.

This isn't to say that this 95-minute play is painless, and that you won't leave the theatre completely drained. The impact of this production by the Quad C Theatre in Plano is deep and immediate; and extremely personal. Much more than a clinical documentary of an AIDS victim's grotesque medical history, AS IS reaches deep into the heart of the audience, and offers us little room to breathe as we shift emotionally from terror to hilarity, from pain to ultimate hope. The plot is simple. As we follow the tailspin of a promising young artist named Rich (Kirk Extrell), the playwright reaches out to examine the impact of AIDS on hetero and homosexual consciences as well as to ask the larger questions -- such as "Why Me?" -- that impale any victims of terminal illness.

It's a feat that Mr. Hoffman accomplishes with both clarity and humor. When Rich is hit by AIDS, he is breaking up with Saul (Coby Archa), a photographer who has been his longtime lover. Saul has been badly hurt by Rich, but not so much so that he will turn his back at a time of grave need. Even as the two men bitterly split up their household possessions--from copper pots to "the world's largest collection of Magic Marker hustler portraits" --  Saul decides to stick by Rich come what may, to accept him "as is."

Others behave just as compassionately. Although suffering cruel social ostracism, Rich eventually receives support from his married brother (Michael Hollomon), from fellow AIDS victims (two of them female), from a maternal hospice worker (Stephanie Duckham). but such kindnesses are not so easy for the protagonist to accept. Rich swings between denial and anger, lashing out at both friends and strangers. He first rejects Saul's affections with torrents of abuse and, at one point, vows to spread his infection indiscriminately. "I'm going to die and take as many as I can with me," cries Rich, his voice coursing with rage.

Mr. Hoffman devotes equal time to exploring the present panic and solidarity of a group of people who have found themselves rightly "terrified of every pimple." For the play's characters, the discovery of AIDS was an epoch-altering event: In a group recitation, they each remember where they were when they first heard of the mysterious epidemic; then chillingly recall the names of nearly 100 lost friends. In another moving scene, Rich is bombarded by a chorus of doctors' voices repeating a single question: "When will science conquer this deadly plague? We don't know, we simply don't know."

Sometimes the characters of AS IS seem a bit too saintly. Mr. Hoffman eventually resolves Rich's conflicts with others in the neat, upbeat manner of so many television movies. But so fluent is Brad Baker's direction of the overlapping scenes that we don't notice the play's begged questions or superficial examinations of character until we're out of the theatre. Mr. Baker may arrange the cast's choral configurations too pretentiously, yet his staging is mostly inventive and surprisingly naturalistic. One has the feeling throughout that these are real people living real scenes, and the audience is somehow been granted access to these private moments by peeping through a keyhole.

The acting could not be better. Mr. Extrell gives a breakout performance as Rich. When he's not loudly venting terror, he also reveals a sensitive artist who is often reduced to communicating his inner thoughts through soft and dissonant guitar interludes. In what may be his most affecting speech, he recounts Rich's ability to overcome a lonely childhood in which, as he says, "I was so desperate to find people like myself I would look for them in the indexes of book, under H."

Mr. Archa's conflicted, at times comically whiny Saul is just as compelling, as are the performances of Mr. Hollomon and Ms. Duckham in their supporting roles. Mr. Hollomon's transition from edgy homophobia to tender emotional reconciliation with his sick brother is perhaps the most devastatingly moving scene in the play. Ms. Duckham's generous-spirited hospice worker, whose epiphany-laden monologues open and close the evening, may be more of a sentimental conceit than a character, but the actress makes her moving even so. "My job is not to bring enlightenment, only comfort," is how she describes her mission to the dying and their loved ones.

The Quad C Theatre production, as much as it is possible under the grim circumstances, brings a stirring measure of both.


Note: Ms. Connolly is a novelist and short-story author, living in Chicago. Her works include The Lambda Bar and Grille and Defending Ophelia.