by Ed Malin · August 17, 2014
In Josiah DeAndrea's play A Touch of Forever, we see several sets of people who want love and/or happiness. All of them know they currently don't have the things they want. It becomes clear, their deprivations are somewhat interrelated. You may know these types of people, and you might indeed sympathize, especially as it takes some extreme dramatic reversals for them to realize what love is.
Gavin (Josiah DeAndrea) and brother and sister Cassie (Maggie Jane Tatone) and Isaac Fray (Nico Papastefanou) are roommates. Gavin, a creative type who creates artistic porn, has made a fantasy female personalty named Lucia (Connie Saltzman) to keep him company. Thus fulfilling his needs, he declares he doesn't need anyone and stops taking his lithium. Cassie has feelings for the oblivious Gavin, but she is busy with her studies and with the late-night prostitution which pays for her tuition. Norman (Rory Allan Meditz) is a rich, 32 year-old virgin who desires Cassie and quickly becomes so possessive that he pays her to stop seeing her other clients.
Meanwhile, Isaac is hot for the pizza delivery guy, Kal (Brett Marcus Coady), with whom he can share sausage jokes, direct statements of limited scope, and easy sex. Their happiness contrasts with the frustration of Cassie and Isaac's parents, Mary (Pooya Mohseni) and Jason (Jason Stanley), who had wed when Mary got pregnant and these days leave each other more sad than fulfilled. For reasons that make perfect sense when ultimately revealed, Cassie still talks to her parents but Isaac does not.
But what happens when Mary and Jason need both their children? What happens when Norman needs Cassie so much he goes to her place, the home of Gavin and his bipolar fantasies?
After such an intriguing buildup, the ending is a chance to ask: forget safer sex, how can we work on safer love right now?
Director Michael Tartaglia helms this, The Unciviliization Project's first production. Technical Director also contributes to the modern-day sense of urban isolation onstage. Living and making love (or trying to) in softly-lit, impersonal, stark dwellings, the characters are slowly guided to understand what they could have said to each other when they had the chance. It's a sexy show with deep psychological underpinnings.