‘Red Lights’ a limp, juvenile romp

Even though "Red Lights & Sirens" is an original Master of Fine Arts candidate play, it's already dated. The Nevada Conservatory show, though, is happily saved by a lively, well-acted production.

Steven S. La-Sky's script marries the worlds of firemen and female prostitutes. It asks us to laugh at a judge (Thomas DiGiacomo) who likes to call a hooker "Mommy," a stupidly naive firefighter (Jeremiah Munsey) who mistakes a call-girl ad for a personal ad, and a woman-of-the-night (Hannah Fryar) who has a penchant for sex toys. This kind of stuff might have been amusing in 1970s sitcoms, but today?

La-Sky does get some fine, quirky rhythms going, and director Michael Tylo makes the most of them. He creates a strong sense of camaraderie among the men in the fire station. Taylor Hanes is an amusingly authoritative and paternal captain. Justin Strickland projects an adolescent mischievousness that wrings humor out of nonhumorous lines. Robert Burgess gives off so many sparks of baby-faced innocence that you have no trouble believing he's the local rookie.

At the center of the action is Munsey as the wholesome fireman who falls in love with an escort. Munsey is so damn likable and unpretentious onstage that he makes you want to see his character win. He doesn't have a single false moment.

Tylo doesn't shape the women's performances as skillfully, although there's at least one gem that sparkles. Christina Wells, as a wisecracking, retired prostitute, is an effortless show-stopper. Wells spits out sarcasm with such gusto and attack that you laugh more at her inflections than the limp material.

The direction is a bit too presentational. Actors tend to tell their jokes facing the audience, and you wonder to whom they're supposed to be talking.

La-Sky may have a voice as a playwright. He does have a sense for structure and clipped dialogue. Maybe now that he's written this juvenile romp, he'll purge it from his system and move on to intelligent things.

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.