PrideArts’s ‘Gay Card’ goes on the discard pile

The Company. Photo by Liz Lauren.

Librettist Jonathan Keebler and composer Ryan Korell met through NYU’s graduate program for musical theatre writing and began developing the truffle-light coming-into-one’s-own musical comedy Gay Card in the early teens. They then put together a studio recording that was released in 2017. I can’t say how long this particular piece has been on PrideArts’s radar, never mind how long it’s been on any absolutely-must-produce list of theirs. But the production of Gay Card currently running at their Broadway space plays with the verve of a piece of juvenilia.

More unfortunately: a piece of juvenilia that seems out of step with the present moment, its truffle-lightness rendered indigestible.

The program lists no time, but the place is a university in central Florida at which freshman Logan (Ben Ballmer) has enrolled. Launching out of the closet his senior year of high school, he splats right into a brick wall. It’s apparently not enough for Logan to “just” be gay–he needs to find which gay archetype he fits, his gimmick if you will. And so, guided by an ever-so-handy blog cataloging the young gay college experience, Logan tries on all manner of personae, and all manner of hilarity–mix-ups of intent, acting a fool, unexpected love interests–is supposed to ensue.

Hilarity might have ensued if the idea of setting an uplifting queer musical comedy in central Florida–and in a queer-accepting resident hall called Diversity Hall, no less!–didn’t clash with the present reality that is actual Florida. As mentioned, there is no timeframe listed in the program, so either the authors assumed the “Time: Now” in which they conceived Gay Card would always be a happy one, or PrideArts overlooked the matter.

In the “Time: Now” we do find ourselves, perhaps, too, this isn’t the time to mount a musical for which the plot is instigated by divisions fortified within the LGBTQ+ community. As the in-crowd gives Logan grief for not being gay “enough”, do the authors want the audience to laugh or cringe in recognition at its own youthful small-mindedness? Unclear. The in-crowd is never brought to heel on the matter either, in part because there always seems to be a song cued up–club-set, beach-set, what have you–that glamorizes that very same in-crowd.

A much more practical objection: on press night, the show’s mix made everyone sound like they were trapped in a fishbowl, muddling even the expository voiceovers. What turns of phrase and melody that did come through suggest that Keebler and Korell do make a good pair and that better things are in store for them.

Better things are certainly in store for Ballmer. The role of Logan is that of a rabbity milquetoast, and trying on new guises for size in every scene doesn’t much help. But the actor is endearing in a wide-eyed way, the Everyfreshman I think we might imagine ourselves to have been. Sophie Murk, for her part, is perpetually on the verge of making the “gay’s best friend” role her own, and something interesting—she certainly gets the smartest song, “Extraneous”–-but neither the writing nor the direction seem too interested in following her.

I’d be curious if Keebler and Korell have given Gay Card much thought since releasing it for licensing, or if it’s just been sitting in the back of their filing cabinet. But, for sure, PrideArts’s Gay Card is proof that it’s not enough to find material that fits a mission statement. Ideally, it should fit the present moment, or, at the very least, it should be presented with thought.

Gay Card runs through September 24th at PrideArts Center, 4139 N. Broadway. For tickets or more information, please visit pridearts.org.

For more reviews on this or other shows, please visit theatreinchicago.com.