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Showing posts with label actor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label actor. Show all posts

Monday, August 20, 2012

La Faculté





  • They are between 17 and 20 years old, they run into each other, talk to each other, lie to each other, ignore each other, defy each other, take drugs and make love. They have their territories: the housing projects or the subdivisions, the football field, the faculty. Codes function, prohibitions are contained in the unspoken, until the day when deadly tragedy disturbs the state of things, making conflicts explode, turning upside-down the fragile balance of their micro-society. A racist murder? A sex crime? A tragedy, in any case, like one that is heard in ancient Greece, that crosses siblings, that sets common law against family law. Under Christophe Honoré's pen, these characters from daily life become the heroes of a clash that goes beyond them and forces them to admit what cannot be admitted. It is this theatre of today, always linked to that of origins, that Éric Vigner stages with the actors of the Académie, these young actors who have come from near and far, worthy representatives of the “world's youth”. A laboratory theatre in which Christophe Honoré's “mixed words”, both poetic and concrete, never drawing back before crudeness, give an account of the complexity of amorous desires, the fear of differences, the violence of a troubled society threatening to fall to pieces. It is with these extremely alive bodies haunted by strong words that Éric Vigner occupies the theatre's stage. For a striking portrait stripped of all artifice that is as much drama as pamphlet.

  • Distribution
    direction, scenography and costumes Éric Vigner
    artistic collaboration Jutta Johanna Weiss
    lighting Kelig Le Bars
    dramaturgy Sabine Quiriconi
    make up and hair Soizic Sidoit
    assistant to the direction Morgan Dowsett
    assistant to the scenography Nicolas Guéniau
    assistant to the costumes Sophie Hoarau

    with the actors of the Académie Vlad Chirita, Lahcen Elmazouzi, Eye Haidara, Hyunjoo Lee, Tommy Milliot, Nico Rogner, Isaïe Sultan
    and Scott Turner Schofield, Jutta Johanna Weiss
    Production
    production CDDB-Theater of Lorient, National Drama Center of Brittany
    coproduction National Dramatic Center Orléans/Loiret/Centre, La Comédie de Reims National Dramatic Centre
    with the artistic participation of the Jeune Théâtre national




Thursday, August 16, 2012

Actor Resumé

EYES: blue     HAIR: blonde     HEIGHT: 5'11"     WEIGHT 145
Representation: email Gaskins Management

Film, TV, and Industrial

Written up in Entertainment Weekly

Des Mots de Minuit
Talkshow Guest
France 2
Aired 10/10/10

The Conveyor Belt of Love
Primary Contestant
ABC
Aired 01/04/10

Portrait of Turner
Principal
Director: Irene Gustafson
Independent Feature

With George Lucas 
Mysterious Rituals
Principal Subject
Director: Deborah Blum
The History Channel

Teller Training Industrial
Teller-in-Training
Bank of America

Commercial appearances available upon request


Theatre

La Faculté
with Isaïe Sultan

La Faculté
by Christophe Honoré
Stéphane
World Premiere at Festival d'Avignon 2012
Currently touring
Director: Eric Vigner


Becoming a Man in 127 EASY Steps
Original Solo Performance
Currently touring
Director: Steve Bailey

Becoming a Man in
127 EASY Steps
Debutante Balls
Original Solo Performance
Currently touring
Director: Steve Bailey


Wizzer Pizzer
by Amy Wheeler
World Premiere at 7 Stages
Director: Melissa Foulger


Underground Transit
Original Solo Performance


As You Like It
Wizzer Pizzer
with Topher Payne

Le Beau
Director: Janice Akers


Voice Over

Necessary Luxuries
various characters
by Topher Payne

Self-Organizing Men
self
Des Mots de Minuit

Edited by Jay Sennet


Training

Film Acting Alliance Theatre Acting Program
Stage Acting DAH Teatar International School; Emory University Theatre Program
Voice Bucky Motter; Elisa Lloyd
Movement Celeste Miller; SITI Company Summer Intensive; Out of Hand Theatre Company
Aerial Acrobatics Nicole Mermans; Cathy Sutherland
Clowning Kenny Raskin; Kelan Scher

Strange Rituals
Special Skills

Moves eyebrows independently; French (intermediate fluency), Spanish (fluid speech); Deep South and Texas accents, Southern and Yorkshire British accents; Aerial acrobatics on tissu; Rhythm guitar; Horseback riding (Western); Juggling 3 balls; Drag.

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Debutante Balls Review


Southern skin

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Posted: Wednesday, January 13, 2010 12:00 am
The one-man show “Debutante Balls” at Out North this weekend uses the tradition of young debutants coming out in Southern society as a narrative that parallels the artist’s own coming out as a lesbian, radical feminist, transgender man and even middle class performance artist.
Scott Turner Schofield’s clever, funny performance examines the variations of wearing and living in one’s own skin. He ultimately wants everyone to enjoy a gala ball celebrating their coming out as whoever they are, but he has a good time unearthing the hilarity, dogma and even beauty of the conventional debutante ball of the South in the meantime.
After all, he grew up as a girl expected to help out with all her girlfriend’s debutante balls, and that freedom allowed him to explore his own skins and coming out.
Schofield grew up in Charlotte, North Carolina, and now describes himself as “a lesbian turned straight guy who is usually taken for a gay teenager.” It’s easy to see why. He’s capable of wearing all these skins, yet is poignantly only comfortable in one of them.
In his last show at Out North in 2008, he focused on the legal, medical and social elements of changing gender in “Becoming a Man in 127 Easy Steps.”
He mines this material in “Debutante,” but also outside live theater. This month he vied for the top spot in an ABC reality show called “Conveyor Belt of Love,” (see Flashlight, page 6) in which 30 guys on a conveyor belt were given 60 seconds to woo five beauties with ample cleavage. Schofield made it to the final four – and, in a sense, the show’s set-up plays into his ongoing study of tradition and assumption, identity and acceptance, and the simplicity and complexity of human beings.
As for “Debutante,” well touches on many of these ideas through a delirious story of his coming out as a lesbian teenager and later as a transgender man. In a way, you could say that “coming out” is a performance artist’s mission, and Schofield does it admirably. His personable, accessible performance makes his many coming out stories real and moving, and though he sometimes points the spotlight at his audience, he never betrays them or puts them in artificially uncomfortable situations.
Theatrically, he leans on several props to link his many ideas. The set consists of a platform with a gown poised on a simple framework. He uses the gown in many ways: he hides behind it, uses it as a character, climbs under and through it, and even slides his arms into its sleeves until, finally, he dismantles its framework altogether. Representing everything from concealment to truth, the gown provides a visual conduit to his life experience. Its simplicity belies its depth.
On a more abstract level, he brings in sweet tea as the presumed beverage of the South, just as “whiteness” and “heterosexuality” make up the backdrop of life where he grew up.
Eventually, he points out, those with life experiences outside these presumptions need to decide whether to “spit or swallow.”
This notion of either being swallowed whole or having to spit oneself out returns again and again alongside the tea, the gown and the pragmatic truth that the invisibility of queer life can sometimes be an asset. To understand how and why, you’ll need to see the show yourself.
As it happens, Schofield’s Out North performances culminate his six-week stint as Out North’s guest artistic director. He has taken the show all over the country for years, and his timing and pacing show it.
“Debutante” never lulls, yet offers the audience plenty of time for contemplation, and though the material may seem outside of “normal” to some folks, it really just centers on an age-old message told in parables, folk tales, poems, films, songs and books: Just be yourself.
Soon, Schofield will do just that in New York City, where he will study and write.
Debutante Balls will show tonight through Saturday at 7:30 p.m. and Sunday at 4 p.m. Tickets cost $20 atwww.outnorth.org, 279-8099 or at the door. Find out more about Schofield’s work atwww.undergroundtransit.com.


Southern skin - Anchorage Press: Arts:

'via Blog this'

Friday, January 8, 2010

The Conveyor Belt of Love


Trans man Schofield pops up on dating show

imageColor us floored yet not completely surprised that writer, performance artist, trans man and Atlanta homeboy Scott Turner Schofield rolled past on ABC’s “Conveyor Belt of Love” reality dating show on Monday, Jan. 4.
One the one hand, we were floored because you don’t expect to see someone you know while surfing through ABC’s mindless Marry Me Monday lineup that also includes the new hottie on “The Bachelor.”
On the other, we weren’t really surprised because we’ve come to expect anything from Schofield (photo), whose introspective, articulate works include successful touring productions and repeated Atlanta runs of “Underground TRANSit” and “How to Become a Man in 127 Easy Steps.”
Schofield was also a 2009 Lambda Literary Award nominee and a 2008 Atlanta Pride Grand Marshal.
For a taste of this incredibly intelligent man’s viewpoint and sense of humor, his website describes him as “a man who was a woman, a lesbian turned straight guy who is usually taken for a gay teenager. A former debutante and homecoming queen coming out in the Deep South…”
ABC describes “Conveyor Belt”: “Five women take a shot at finding love when 30 men are given the chance to impress them as they pass by on a moving conveyor belt.”
We’ll just say it. The show sucks, but we were tickled pink that Schofield’s gender status was never mentioned to the contestants, and that he rocked the fast-paced interview portion. Four of the women declined to put him on their “maybe” list, but one was intrigued. She later chose another guy—presumably born male, but who knows?—from the bunch for a date.
Better luck next time, Scott.
While we were picking our jaws up off the floor, PopEater.com was the first to catch Schofield’s identity and cite it as a victory for LGBTs everywhere in a Wednesday post. They also had this to say:
‘Conveyor Belt’ never disclosed the full story on Schofield, but ABC has a decent track record of representing the LGBTQ community, even casting transgender actor Candis Cayne on the brilliant but canceled ‘Dirty Sexy Money.’ Looks like this only adds to the network’s growing portfolio.
Well, PopEater almost gets that right. They seem to have forgotten November’s hubbub over Adam Lambert oddly being banned/not-banned from the network after his American Music Awards performance, and the allegations of homophobia and gender bias in the matter.
We forgive PopEater completely, though. “LGBTQ” just ain’t their everyday beat, and besides, who can fault a media outlet for total support like that? Extra credit for even knowing about the “Q.”

Schofield did tweet during the show’s airing that he “never thought this would air.” Apparently, he can’t talk about it in detail due to contractual obligations.
PopEater reached out to Schofield who declined an interview due to contractual obligations. “I have nothing to hide about myself, hence my decision to participate in a prime time reality TV show,” he wrote in an e-mail.
That’s OK. We’ll snag him the next time his shows roll him through Atlanta, and in the meantime, you simply must watch this video of his appearance on “Conveyor Belt of Love”:



Trans man Schofield pops up on dating show — Project Q Atlanta:

'via Blog this'

Thursday, February 26, 2009

Becoming a Man in 127 EASY Steps review


Thoughts on Schofield's gender-bending Becoming a Man in 127 EASY Steps

Published: Thursday, February 26, 2009
Updated: Sunday, March 20, 2011 18:03

Nudity, beer chugging, acrobatics and an explosive, menstrual pad-launching rendition of Hedwig and the Angry Inch's "The Origin of Love" - sound interested?Everyone should be. If more people started going to shows like Scott Turner Schofield's Becoming a Man in 127 EASY Steps, the world would be a more accepting place. We would see a society in which we seek to understand rather than to exile, and more people would be prepared to accept and help fellow human beings in their struggle to figure out who they are, regardless of sexuality and gender differentials.
Schofield is an award-winning performer and transgender activist who has toured around the country since 2001. He has performed two other solo acts: Debutante Balls and Underground Transit, and his book Two Truths and a Lie has been nominated for two Lambda Literary Awards. Last weekend he was at Houston's DiverseWorks with his newest performance, Becoming a Man in 127 EASY Steps.

As I drove over to DiverseWorks last Saturday, I had no idea what I was about to experience. I had no idea I would be watching a woman-turned-man get naked in front of me on a stage within the first 10 minutes of a performance. (He only stayed naked for about five minutes.) 

I like to think of myself as a very accepting person, but I'm ashamed to admit that before this show, that mental image may have made me squirm a little.

But after it happened, I was actually really surprised by how, well, natural it felt.

Hilarious, emotional, explosive - and just a bit heart-wrenching at times - Becoming a Man in 127 EASY Steps is so successful because you not only feel like you are witnessing someone's private transgender experience, but you actually feel like you are inside of the experience with him.

The key to the success of this performance is its intimacy. From the set to the audience participation to the conversational ingenuity of Scott's portrayal, everything about his performance invites the audience into his world while forcing us to question the mainstream culture that surrounds us.

I'll start with the set, because it strikes me as magnificently effective at constructing an atmosphere in which the audience feels like it's being let in on something personal. Simplistic but intimate, a stripped mattress lays on the floor and above it hangs what looks like a crimson cloth cocoon. Three triangular white drapes hang at the foot and sides of the bed; a screen is placed at the back. The audience sits on three sides of the stage.

All of a sudden the cocoon starts to move and Scott comes out, weaving his body up and down and around the symbolically blood-colored cloth that now flows to the center of the mattress as a recording of his voice narrates the moment of his conception. Finally, Scott jumped to the floor. He addressed the audience, throwing the white drapes to all three sides of the stage, bringing everyone in the room into what he calls his fort, much like the ones he used to make as a kid. He asked the people in the last rows to pull the drapes back so that they form a straight line, cracking a joke about how "tight and straight is what we value in this culture." He explained that the fort is a safe place to sexually explore and then promises to the audience that "once we're in the fort, I'll tell you everything."

The title Becoming a Man in 127 EASY Steps refers to a decoder ring that is projected onto the screen at the head of the bed. Something like a pie chart, each chunk of the decoder ring is identified with a number and holds heavily-loaded word such as "butch," "gay," "stealth" and "feminine." Scott explained that when combined, these numbers and their words tell about 127 little bits of his identity. He has a story for each one. However, the title is slightly deceptive, as he does not have time to tell 127 stories but rather has the audience request certain numbers and he responds with many stories as he can within his hour on stage.

Scott's stories range from downright comical, to shockingly painful, to thought provoking. Story 47, for example, combines the words "man" and "stealth" and he muses over what penis he would have genetically inherited had he been born with a male body. Then he pulls out three soft packs (attachable penises that create a bulge under pants) of different sizes. He begins to walk around the stage, juggling the three penises. He stops, turns to the crowd, gives a mischievous smile and states, "I'd be a shower, not a grower."

Towards the end of the show this character, who for the past hour had awed the audience with his charisma and humor in discussing such a complicated topic, reveals his insecure side. We hear some recordings of a phone conversation in which a friend of Scott's explains to him that it is all right to not know how to be a man because the "idea of being a man is just an idea" and that "you happen any way you choose." The room gets a little darker and Scott quietly explains, "My body tells my truth. but sometimes the story is so big I have to lie just a little, and it hurts just a little." We get an image of him sitting in the dark with a syringe, "morphing" himself as he continues to describe the concern he has to live with: that the hormone injections he takes regularly may have negative health implications in the future.

The show closes on an open-ended note, as he says, "I haven't figured out the end. . All I can do is be a man, and know when to leave."

I can't express the impact this performance had on me. It has certainly made me ponder what constitutes gender, acceptance and how the constant evolution of the individual in personal and public spaces is something that we all go through in our own ways, yet we tend to shut off the process of understanding evolutions different from our own.Becoming a Man in 127 EASY Steps was only showing in Houston last weekend, so I wish I could have shared this earlier, but I recommend that you go see him if you ever get the chance.


Andi Gomez is a Lovett College Senior.


Thoughts on Schofield's gender-bending Becoming a Man in 127 EASY Steps - Entertainment - The Rice Thresher - Rice University

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

'Becoming a Man' all powerful | ajc.com

photo by Alain Fonterey

The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
THEATER REVIEW
“Becoming a Man in 127 Easy Steps”
Grade: A-
8 p.m. Thursday-Saturday. 5 p.m. Sunday. Through Sunday. 7 Stages. 1105 Euclid Ave., Little Five Points. 404-523-7647, 7stages.org. (Note: Features adult material and full-frontal nudity.)
Bottom line: One of the year’s most essential theater experiences.
As a camp counselor in Costa Rica a few years ago, Scott Turner Schofield suffered a serious blow to the head that required a detailed medical examination and extended hospital stay. When his doctor realized the athletic young man had the body of a woman, he thought the kid was just confused.
“Son, you have a terrible brain injury,” the doctor said sternly.
After having a heart-to-heart conversation with another doctor about his quest for a sex change, Schofield was informed that Costa Rica is the cosmetic-surgery capital of Latin America. And the surgeon offered to remove his breasts on the spot.
In his autobiographical solo performance piece, “Becoming a Man in 127 Easy Steps,” the Atlanta-based artist describes the comic absurdity, social stigma, emotional imperilment and sheer-naked vulnerability of the transgendered life.
Suggesting an image of physical rebirth, the show begins with Schofield emerging from a cocoon of billowing fabric suspended from the ceiling. After a precarious aerial ballet, he bounds to the floor like some newly minted Peter Pan and describes the messy medical details of getting a sex change. In a metaphorical gesture that signifies the total soul-baring to come, he disrobes completely and tapes a sign to the set that says: “No secrets allowed.”
By turns fiercely comic, brutally honest and deeply moving, the show is beautifully written, choreographed and performed. Like some sexually ambiguous Scheherazade, Schofield unspools the action as a series of stories chosen willy-nilly by the audience from a list of numbers assigned to various words (“queer,” “straight,” “butch,” “femme,” etc.). Directed by Steve Bailey, the intermissionless 75-minute piece feels so artfully balanced and delicately nuanced that it makes you wonder if Schofield really has 127 stories in his repertoire or is just pretending.
From the little girl forced to wear a Minnie Mouse costume when she really wanted to be Mickey to the young man standing in front of a Texas judge begging to have his sexual designation legally changed, from the complicated family relationships to the three suicide attempts, “Becoming a Man” is raw, urgent and honest. Much to his credit, Schofield comes across more as a lovable neighborhood kid bursting with energy and insight than an agenda-waving political zealot.
With great humor and pathos, he describes his alienation from his biological father, relates his adventures as a baby sitter and describes his close calls with Atlanta cops and skinny-dipping European males. During the performance, he sings “Like a Bird on a Wire” while tethered to a swinging rope, and has a live telephone conversation with his stepfather.
In a democracy that boasts great freedom of expression, transgenderism may be the final frontier of sexual politics. Going from female to male can’t be an easy process, and this 27-year-old artist never pretends that is. Schofield —- winner of an off-Broadway Fruitie Award and a prestigious Princess Grace Foundation acting fellowship —-says the titular number 127 is part of his Social Security number, and jokes that he wants someone to steal his identity. As it turns out, the man born as Katie Lauren Kilborn has sculpted a personality so unique that it would be virtually impossible to replicate.

Originally posted here: 'Becoming a Man' all powerful | ajc.com
'via Blog this'

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

Editor's Pick in Time Out New York!


Fancy that
Scott Turner Schofield returns to the cotillion for Debutante Balls.
SKIRT THE ISSUE Stradling genders onstage was crucial to Schoefield's vision.
SKIRT THE ISSUE Stradling genders onstage was crucial to Schofield's vision.
Playwright and performance artist Scott Turner Schofield has come out in at least five different ways. When he was in high school—and was still living as a woman named Katie—he came out as a lesbian. In college at Atlanta's Emory University (where he and this writer were classmates), he came out as transgender. But while those are powerful stories, they may be less surprising than the events that inspired Schofield's latest show: As a young woman in Charlotte, North Carolina, Schofield came out at three debutante balls as a Southern belle.
For those who don't know Dixie, the debutante ball is an annual Old South tradition in which young women put on elegant gowns, get paraded around mansions by tuxedoed young men and symbolically announce that they are ready to join society. For the debs, this ritual is called "coming out," and the joke is not lost on Schofield. His solo piece Debutante Balls—which he performs twice this week at the Cherry Lane Theater as part of the queercentric Fresh Fruit Festival—pokes fun at the similarities between his time in cotillion culture and his journey within the realm of gender politics.
Schofield has unwittingly broken rules in both worlds. Consider, for instance, the story of his debutante gown: As a middle-class kid who didn't arrive in the South until his teens, he didn't know that upper-crust debs usually attend balls in white dresses and kid gloves. So what was his coming out attire? A spaghetti-strapped number with a long black skirt and a leopard-print bodice. Blanche DuBois would have died.
"But it was the only dress I owned!" he says, chatting via instant message from a theater workshop in Serbia after the telephone stopped working in the middle of this interview. "I bought it at a nice place at the mall! How was I supposed to know?" he asks. "Like with gender, you only know you're doing it wrong as you do it wrong."
Schofield wears the frock during a crucial scene in Debutante Balls to explicitly symbolize his time as a woman. For most of his audiences, both queer and straight, he says the transformation scene is "a magical moment," but there are some who don't want him to acknowledge his feminine past.
"Some trans people feel that being trans is a birth defect that they've corrected through various medical interventions, and now they are living as the men and women they were truly meant to be," he explains. "They get angry at being considered anything else."
But for Schofield, it's crucial to keep identifying himself as trans and not just as a man. "I rail against the system that says we can't be all of ourselves," he says. "I think trans people especially have something special to say."
Ironically, since he's on hormone therapy and passes as a man, Schofield now regularly "comes out" as someone who wasn't born male. That wrinkle only strengthens his artistic mission.
"The major point of Debutante Balls is to highlight the ways we can all come out as things," he explains. "We can be sodefined. We can define ourselves out of our own truths, so we should trouble those notions and be all over them. It should not be possible for me to be a radical feminist debutante transman, but I am."
Schofield's perspective, which he has toured across the country since 2004, complements the rest of Fresh Fruit, whose fifth season runs through July 22. Several of the festival's other titles also hinge on gender and the various meanings of "coming out."
Lucile Scott's play Monroe Bound, running Saturday 14 through Tuesday 17, depicts an entire family facing its own identity issues, while British performer Joey Hateley uses his multimedia solo show A. Gender (July 21 and 22) to subvert both male and female archetypes.
Fresh Fruit artistic director Carol Polcovar is happy that the fest features multiple riffs on the same theme. "We tend to have pockets in our community that stay together and don't know about anyone else," she says. "I want people to 'get it,' to see that we're all coming at the same thing from unique places."
Debutante Balls is Thu 12 and Fri 13. The Fresh Fruit Festival runs at the Cherry Lane Theater and other locations through Jul 22. See It's Here, It's Queer, and also freshfruitfestival.com.



Thursday, May 12, 2005

Wizzer Pizzer Review

Scott Turner Schofield and Topher Payne
in Amy Wheeler's "Wizzer Pizzer"
ARTS | THEATER 05.12.05

 
Under The Rainbow
Wizzer Pizzer a tone-switcher

BY CURT HOLMAN

Playwright Amy Wheeler comes out in the program notes of her comedy Wizzer Pizzer. The Seattle-based playwright fesses up to being "a queer Christian ... who believes in the teachings of the socio-political-activist formerly known as Jesus."

Comfortable with her spiritual beliefs, Wheeler admits to being leery of born-again evangelicals and others "in the flock." Such ambivalence gives the playwright the ideal vantage to scrutinize the "ex-gay movement" of Christian groups to cure homosexuality.

In its world-premiere production at 7 Stages, Wizzer Pizzer revels in the comic possibilities of its timely subject, turns gender politics topsy-turvy and offers something sexy for every orientation.

Yet Wheeler packs so many jokes, themes and characters into Wizzer Pizzer, the play resembles an overstuffed closet that opens and emits a noisy, colorful avalanche.

Disaffected drag queen Kevin (Topher Payne) suffers an identity crisis after his disastrous attempt to perform "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" at a gay club. Adding insult to injury, his best friend, Kandi (Scott Turner Schofield), brings down the house with her drag-king rendition of Garth Brooks' "Friends in Low Places" that same night.

Wallowing in booze and self-pity, Kevin complains that he's a walking gay stereotype, with a predictably fabulous sense of style but no feeling of passion or belonging. He happens to catch a late-night broadcast of "Dr. Nora" (Susan V. Booth), a Dr. Laura-esque tough-love therapist and founder of the "Getting Over the Rainbow" Reparative Therapy Clinic. Soon, Kevin finds himself inexplicably outside the clinic's gate, where Dr. Nora's minions attempt to straighten him out.

Wizzer Pizzer's sharpest segments depict the prayer sessions and therapeutic exercises meant to help misguided gays get in touch with their inner breeder. All-American couple Steve (Charlie Burnett) and Helen (Alison Hastings) run the clinic as former homosexuals-turned-wholesome spouses. Helen instructs the butch gals to put on makeup while Steve teaches the effete guys to suppress their desires during wrestling holds.

Steve and Helen's nuclear family is on the verge of a meltdown. They both teeter at the brink of gay "relapse," while their children, tomboy Blaine (Mary Claire Dunn) and "sissy" Gable (Brian Crawford), serve as living proof that homosexuality comes from nature, not nurture. Meanwhile, Kevin grows even more confused when Kandi shows up at the clinic - only she claims to be a man named Jack. The implications for Kevin and Kandi's relationship, let alone for cross-dressing role-play, become impossible to sort out.

Melissa Foulger directs Wizzer Pizzer's young actors to their strengths. An Atlanta playwright, Payne captures Kevin's esteem issues to find humor and occasional pathos, whether badly lip-synching to Judy Garland or attempting to impersonate a typically macho straight guy.

Schofield, duded up in cowboy gear and Western suits, gives Kandi a sly swagger reminiscent of Madonna's quote following a k.d. lang concert: "Elvis is alive." Schofield also grounds the role in a sensitivity that goes beyond preening caricature. (It's tricky picking the right pronoun for Schofield: The transgendered actor was until recently Atlanta-based actress and performance artist Kt Kilborn.)

A delicious inside joke lies in the casting of Dr. Nora. Alliance Theatre artistic director Susan Booth plays a scolding Voice of Authority in video projection and voice-over but never appears in the flesh. Like a Bible-thumping Martha Stewart, Booth gives Dr. Nora an amusing tone of testy self-righteousness. In one video interlude, Dr. Nora reveals a kinky side by pouring misplaced sexuality into a cooking demonstration: "The secret to a good meringue is in the whipping!"

Despite such comedic inspiration, Wizzer Pizzer's world premiere production feels like the kind of draft in which the playwright tosses all possible ideas onto the stage to see which one sticks. The action and tone keep switching, from ambisexual bedroom farce to surreal journey of self-discovery to after-school special about childhood gay identity. Blurring the line between dream and reality, the play gives its characters perplexing alter egos: Burnett also struts as a glammed-up club emcee, while Hastings sizzles as a bisexual femme fatale.

The play's second half proves increasingly vague and repetitious. The persistent Wizard of Oz references muddy the play's meanings. Near the end, characters contemplate murder while Jesus appears doing bad stand-up: "Take my life - please!" Like the disconnected images from somebody else's weird dream, Wizzer Pizzer all but spins to pieces.

Wizzer Pizzer forcefully punctures religious hypocrisy and the misuse of Jesus' teachings. The play speaks directly to the national brouhaha over gay marriage, but yet may not contain a spiritual message deeper than the hardly controversial "believe in yourself." Wizzer Pizzer could be circling an idea that "choice" neither applies to religious faith nor romantic feelings: You can't force physical attraction any more than you can spiritual devotion. Somewhere along the way, though, Wizzer Pizzer gets lost on the Yellow Brick Road.