Unrequited Sin in Trenton

By T.E. Kalem

I LOVE MY WIFE

Music by CY COLEMAN

Book and Lyrics by MICHAEL STEWART

A twinkling piece of innocent bawdry has come to Broadway. The Ethel Barrymore Theater has been invaded by the ripple of laughter, thoroughly beguiling tunes and saucily intelligent lyrics. The story line is as nonchalant as unrequited sin. It concerns a would-be menage `a quatre: two couples who want to plunge into liberated mutual sexuality but only manage to get their toes wet.

The venture, domiciled in Trenton, N.J., does not start out as a foursome. Wally (James Naughton), a public relations man with a sweet tooth for talk, exhorts his shy furniture-mover friend Alvin (Lenny Baker) to spice up his "mutual love experience" by moving an added woman into his marital chamber. Wally's personal idea of fulfillment is to appropriate Alvin's wife Cleo (Ilene Graff). Alvin, who sometimes makes Buster Keaton seem voluble, gulps, but broaches the proposal to Cleo.

She gulps with unseemly haste, since she harbors a yen for Wally, but insists that Wally's wife Monica (Joanna Gleason) share in the swap frolic. Christmas Eve dinner at Wally's house is the appointed double-bed date. But the catch is that Monica has not been told, and she raises demihell. Gleason, a fumingly sexy comedienne, hurls the dinner plates to the table like Frisbees and shot-puts the turkey. Then, like the perfect suburban hostess, she climbs into bed with the others, where monogamous love conquers all.

/ Love My Wife, directed by Gene Saks with the unerring control of a lion tamer of farce, is dotted with paralyzingly funny sight gags. One is provided by Lenny Baker, an immensely gifted clown, as he divests himself of each article of clothing, except his shorts (no one strips to the buff), with the chloroformed zeal of an inhibited zombie. Another is the foursome in bed poring over a sex manual as if it were the Das Kapital of the erotic revolution and deciding who is to be A, B, C and D in a horizontal power play.

The innovative treat is that four top-notch actor-musicians share the stage and comment on the action like a chorus of satyrs. Among other things, they appear in togas, snappy marching-band outfits, pajamas and in Santa Claus suits, playing and singing Hey There, Good Times. With that number, they bring down whatever remains of the house. The audience has already brought down the rest. T.E.Kalem

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