Apostasy

Gino DiIorio's play, Apostasy, left me confused about a lot of things, but the one that stayed with me--and this is a bad sign--is wondering why it was such a surprise for a self-defined agnostic to convert to Christianity rather than defaulting to the lackadasical and irrelevant Judaisim (a dead horse in this play, if ever there were one). Frances Hill does some nice work staging the play (a dead horse itself, for the most part), and I enjoyed the sterile, state-of-the-art feel of Roman Tatarowicz's "come-die-here" cancer ward (a private Westchester hospice). When the actors weren't over-the-top, the dialog spun nicely, but it didn't go anywhere, and there was very little substance to this play: it might just as well have been called Entropy. There's medicinal pot, an abortion-clinic manager, and a televangelist . . . in the same room . . . and I'm still not laughing.