But what of slender, unassuming John Epperson, who gazes at us tentatively from a baby grand onstage? Epperson is the man behind Lypsinka, a creature in heels and plunging necklines who forever lip-synchs. And now, thanks to 'Show Trash,' the final, vital piece of evidence slips into place: Both have mild-mannered alter-egos. Each is an exaggerated version of a manly or feminine ideal. The eerie parallels between Superman and Lypsinka can no longer be ignored. SHOW TRASH - (At Studio Theatre through Sunday) Still, Coy and the Keegan deserve credit for adventurousness. Ultimately, these performers are overwhelmed by the play's scope and messiness. But it's Brian Hemmingsen, as the brooding Mr. Porter exudes a brittle blitheness that makes the tale's denouement all the more poignant, and Lucas cultivates a laid-back, matinee-idol panache. Rhea does a valiant job of keeping the work's sprawling tendencies in check. But since 'Island's' infatuation with the Emerald Isle rivals O'Malley's love for Joan, the script keeps doubling back to Ireland and the Irish. When Joan Bruce-Bennett (played by Ghillian Porter), falls for deBourke O'Malley (Eric Lucas), the lovers flee Ireland and roam uneasily around Europe.

Based on the work of Irish American author Donn Byrne, 'Island' relates a heart-wrenching love story - the star-crossed relationship between a sailor and a mysterious, neurotic nun in Ireland and other parts of Europe in the late 19th century. Torrents of lyricism and floods of Gaelic quaintness swamp Peter Coy's ambitious, atmospheric but unfocused new play being premiered here. Even the swordplay is sure-handed and witty.ĪN ISLAND OF NO LAND AT ALL - (By Keegan Theatre at Clark Street Playhouse through July 10) The initial moments with major characters like Gregory Wooddell's Christian, Claire Lautier's Roxane and David Sabin's Ragueneau serve to put the production on a solid footing, but the vital entrance, of course, belongs to Wyn Davies, and he does not disappoint. Director Michael Kahn recognizes the need to play down the melodrama and aim for the funny bone, too.

Something needs to be done to offset the story's shopworn contrivances, and Kornhauser comes up with a nifty solution: a new pun-filled rhyming version that performs a kind of teasing gavotte on the ears. But let's face it, so is the sentiment in Rostand's eternally mushy play about a swashbuckling soldier-poet who had the misfortune to be born before rhinoplasty. The jokes in Barry Kornhauser's wiseacre script are often cheap. A frothy 'Cyrano' has taken up residence at Shakespeare Theatre, invigorated by a crafty star performance by Geraint Wyn Davies and the irreverence of a zinger-packed adaptation that displays as much affinity for the wit and wisdom of Milton Berle as for that of Edmond Rostand. You can, it seems, teach an old warhorse new quips. CYRANO - (At Shakespeare Theatre through Aug.

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