Little Theatre’s ‘I Love You’ lacks insight, far from ‘Perfect’

There are several performers who make "I Love You, You're Perfect, Now Change" worth seeing. And this small-scaled, 1996 off-Broadway revue about male-female romantic relationships has many die-hard fans. But I'm not one of them.

Book and lyric writer Joe DiPietro (with music by Jimmy Roberts) tries to appeal to everyone by taking seriously a series of stereotypes that, to me, have long since stopped being funny.

His idea of perception about the battle between the sexes is to give us male characters who'd rather watch football than pay attention to their wives; females who keep their husbands bored and waiting as they shop; parents who want their son to get married; women who love chick flicks as opposed to men who love action movies.

The structure resembles Stephen Sondheim and George Furth's "Company," in that the script is all vignettes about love. But there are no through-characters and there's no insight. I could swear I've heard every joke here at least twice before.

Director Rob Kastil and some members of the six-member cast occasionally push the comedy too hard. The production could gain considerably if the actors would not try to get laughs by making goofy faces.

But there are many unexpected pleasures in this bumpy ride. Steve McMillan -- middle-aged, attractive without being excessively handsome and in fine voice -- grabs our attention whenever he's on stage. He's so interestingly ordinary -- and seems so often befuddled by the details of daily living -- that you always want to hear his story.

Kelly Ward-Radan is gifted with a lilting soprano that takes your breath away. And Kim Glover -- who has a knack for sketch characters -- is a powerhouse belter.

The ambiance is greatly helped by onstage pianist Toby McEvoy and violinist Caitlin Strokes, who occasionally manage to convince us that this is a revue with a soul.

Kastil's sometimes inventive staging keeps things moving. And although I frequently wished he had toned down the performances, there are an equal number of moments in which the comedy feels perfectly scaled.

The epilogue is moving and powerfully sung. And there's a scene involving four chairs impersonating a moving car that shows you how funny the director and cast can be when they honestly involve themselves in the action, instead of trying to magnify it.

Anthony Del Valle can be reached at DelValle@aol.com. You can write him c/o Las Vegas Review-Journal, P.O. Box 70, Las Vegas, NV 89125.