A message from the press representatives accompanying my tickets to Drew Droege’s new comedy read: “Please note that Messy White Gays contains murder, disgusting language, dubious references, and abhorrent homosexuals.” Indeed it does. An extremely silly travesty of Rope, the 1948 Hitchcock thriller, Messy White Gays lives up to the flack’s tongue-in-cheek tipoff.
Insofar as the higher American drama matters, there is little of value to Messy White Gays, which premiered Sunday at The Duke on 42nd Street. To be fair, however, let’s report that during a preview last week in a packed 199-seat house, much of the audience frequently screamed with mad laughter at this 80-minute charade’s trashy talk and tawdry doings. As a fella in a far better play about being gay liked to say, “Oh, Mary, don’t ask.”
In brief, or rather in cut-offs, this farcical affair opens in a glitzy Manhattan abode as Brecken (James Cusati-Moyer) and Caden (Aaron Jackson) have just this instant finished murdering their throuple partner Monty (an obvious dummy), because he was boring them. When the lovers, both self-absorbed rich boys, recall that chums are expected for brunch, the stiff gets stuffed into a credenza.
What follows as several guests arrive is mostly incessant, trivial chitchat involving dozens of yasss queen–style name-checks for celebrities, NYC bars/restaurants, and last year’s queer trends, along with references to sexual kinks, social media status, and recreational drugs, among similarly related topics. Inexplicably, there also is a running gag about Jean Smart. Eventually the playwright himself appears as the downstairs neighbor Karl, a vinegary gent of an older vintage who splashes acid remarks upon the younger generation.
Director Mike Donahue often stages the rapid, vapid dialogue in the manner of a ping-pong match as two people volley insults while other heads swivel. No drag-queen role for a Constance Collier–type grand dame visitor was written into this scenario, thankfully, while two stereotypical gay characters at least are amusingly portrayed. Described as “the love child of a piglet and a Skittle,” muzzy Pete Zias splutters away in a chaotic pink fog as a drug-inhaling otherwise unemployed chorus boy. A big hunk of eye candy (if one likes muscles, Janet) in the form of Derek Chadwick amiably embodies a dim gym bunny/influencer. After four weeks of previews, somewhat sharper performances might be expected from this crew.
Although the pointless story erupts inside a Hell’s Kitchen apartment, the sweeping Central Park views from the picture windows of designer Alexander Dodge’s living room setting firmly situates the comedy some 50-odd floors atop Billionaire’s Row in midtown Manhattan. The geographical misplacement might be construed as a comment upon the accuracy of Droege’s satirical depiction of contemporary gay culture.
Messy White Gays opened Nov. 2, 2025, at The Duke on 42nd Street and runs through Jan. 11, 2026. Tickets and information: messywhitegays.com
