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Although Joe Pintauro may not be a playwright who instantaneously leaps into the consciousness when discussing the modern masters, it's admirable to think that nearly every piece with his name on it ever presented for the stage has made a sizable splash in its debut, and more often than not in revivals as well. A recent example of same is his Raft of the Medusa, presented by the Secret Theatre in Astoria and not only gloriously directed by Alberto Bonilla, but featuring one of the most talented ensemble of actors enjoyed by this writer in many a moon. One might think, in our present age of medical advances towards combating HIV/AIDS,
that this play, which takes us through an intense meeting of an AIDS support group in the days before protease inhibitors, or when the disease spelled a death sentence rather than the ability to live with it, would be obsolete. Instead, it emerges a timeless and vibrant testament to the beauty of life, even when the end is clearly imminent.
We're introduced at the outset to former rabbinical student Donald Miller, dying violently in his hospital bed, with partner Michael and group 
counselor Jerry Rizzo, present to help him through the final moments. This gives way to a scene change with short narrative by Jerry about the support group and it's various members to whom we're subsequently introduced. Besides Michael (and Donald, who occasionally appears throughout the evening as an unseen spiritual presence), we meet Nairobi, a deaf mute heroin addict left widowed and childless by the disease; Felicia, a timid adolescent who contracted the ailment after being deflowered by her boyfriend; Tommy Carson, a flamboyant former model; Jimmy Hornando, an ex-con who was infected while being raped by a gang at Riker's Island; Bob Garfield, a straight married man who has happily found God and re-embraced His goodness; Cora, whose disease was caught by a chance encounter with a stranger shortly before meeting the man she'd marry, and is now fiercely embittered; Doug Forester, an infected reporter for the New York Post; and Alan Hernandez, whose once-handsome face is now ravaged by Kaposi's Sarcoma lesions. Two other characters require separate mention; Alec Quinn is a famous actor who claims to be straight but is there simply to gather some information for a friend who's been infected, and Larry Smith is (so we're told initially) another gay man with the disease.
The majority of the action unfolds through the personal stories and confessions of each, and their interactions with one another, some of them loving, and others extremely aggressive and confrontational. What moves the play along more than anything else, are the moments most fraught with tension, as in Alec's forced and tearful confession that he's actually homosexual and infected with the disease. And in a pivotal scene late in the play, Larry is unmasked, initially by Doug, as a reporter for a major magazine, who is straight, doesn't have the disease, and is in fact there as an undercover agent wearing a wiretap and gathering information to hold against the members of the group; some moments later, as he's injected with a needle by Nairobi in a sneak attack and led to believe he's been infected, it is nothing but gutwrenching to see him pleading for his life, and Bob equally pleading to God to show mercy for a virtual murder being committed in His presence, when in fact Nairobi's needle was clean. The entire piece is an absolute thrill ride and a cascade of emotion, for actors and audience alike, right through to the very end, when Felicia offers Alan a deep and long-lasting embrace, giving way to Tommy singing "I Left My Heart In San Francisco," as all the members of the group pair off to slow-dance.
As far as the performances, there's not a substandard one in the bunch. Maxwell Zener couldn't be more perfect as Jerry, with a perfectly-conflicting range of caring for the members of the group and necessary anger at times. Chudney Sykes (who knew no sign language whatsoever before her portrayal) is so powerful as Nairobi that we often forget we're watching an actress and not the real deal. Shannon Convery gorgeously brings forth the sourness of Cora from the moment she assumes her place on stage. A.B. Lugo as Alan is a veritable force of nature. Shane Taylor as Doug gives a performance that could only be called exquisite. As Larry, Michael Oberholtzer takes dialogue and actions that might crumble in the hands of a lesser thespian, and instead makes them crackle with purpose. The extremely-impressive Amanda Tudesco is simply heavenly with her embodiment of Felicia. Brad Makarowski's characterization of Bob is simply superb. Greer Samuels as Jimmy is both heartwrenching and inspiring. In his role as Alec, Erich Jones is completely other-wordly and it's impossible not to feel his personal pain. Early on in the opening death sequence, both Michael Satow as Donald and Alex Cape as Michael, grab the audience with a fervor besides all of their collectively marvelous moments throughout the play. And finally, as Tommy, Joshua Warr proves outrageously impressive not merely for his acting, but above and beyond all else for his delectable reactions to the words and deeds of all assembled (not to mention his glorious delivery of the song sans accompaniment).
Raft of the Medusa has a limited run and will be closing before the end of July, which is regrettable, not merely because audiences at large won't possess the opportunity to see it, and then to see it again and again as they should, but because the Secret Theatre has brought Pintauro's play to an area such as Astoria, where all manner of the arts should be presented as regularly and perpetually as possible. As such, one can only feel very lucky to have attended, and to wish all best of luck to a stellar cast, a brilliant director, and the beauty and splendor that is the work of Joe Pintauro.
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