Theatre in Review: Gene and Gilda (Penguin Rep Theatre at 59E59)Gene Wilder and Gilda Radner were two of the most indelible, outsized comic personalities of the 1970s -- he an explosive bundle of nerves that made him a star in the Mel Brooks universe, and she a deadly accurate sketch comedy caricaturist with an armada of kooky characters at her command. All of which leaves one wondering why Gene and Gilda is such a mild enterprise. What would Willy Wonka and Emily Litella say? Playwright Cary Gitter has worked up a modest account of Wilder and Radner's relationship, which ended heartbreakingly soon, thanks to the ovarian cancer that killed her just shy of her forty-third birthday. Gitter is a purveyor of boulevard entertainment; this is biography as sex comedy, featuring Radner, an aggressive, impulsive truth-teller, and Wilder, an emotionally wounded, self-protecting fussbudget, barreling into (and sometimes retreating from) an emotional commitment. It's a standard romantic comedy setup from decades past, lightly salted with gently screwball dialogue: "Why are you looking at me like that?" Wilder wonders at their first meeting, on the set of the film Hanky Panky. "It's just...you're handsome in person," she replies. "You say that like it's a big surprise," he says. "Well, it is!" she admits. Ostensibly a peek into the stars' personal lives, the play frequently blurs the lines between their public and private personas, offering shtick instead of character insights. His claims to being a very private person aside, Gitter presents him as a standard Gene Wilder phobic, afraid to look out the window of his nineteenth-floor hotel room, nervously chewing up paper, and crawling on all fours when in a state of high anxiety. During a fraught confrontation with Radner, he pulls out his "comfort handkerchief," just like Leo Bloom's blue blanket in The Producers; he and Radner even re-enact the bit in that film in which Max Bialystock tries (and fails) to calm a hysterical Bloom with a slap and a glass of water in his face. Hang on for the moment when, during an argument, he snaps, "The name is Frankenstein! Gitter gives Radner a more independent profile, but he also provides a bit in which, envisioning a new solo Broadway show, she races through her repertory of characters -- including Baba Wawa, Judy Miller, and Candy Slice -- in about three minutes. The extremely capable Jordan Kai Burnett faces this challenge head-on, but it's a technical achievement that produces few laughs. It's hard not to feel that the applause that follows is more for the effort than the achievement. "Face it: We're two funny people," she announces. Not in this play. Under Joe Brancato's direction, the two-person cast performs solidly. Burnett, curled up on a couch to quietly trade confidences, dancing a jig in anticipation of a marital proposal, or, in a cold fury, demanding to be cast in the film Haunted Honeymoon, is likable and surprisingly thoughtful. Gifted with a Medusa-like pile of curls and the ability to call up nasal cries of despair, Jonathan Randell Silver delivers a solid Wilder impression, even when the script demands he play up the character's emotional tics in the most farcical ways. The pair are modestly touching when sharing their private pains -- she struggles with bulimia and he is scarred by the memory of a year in military school, fending off physical and sexual assaults -- and, later, when it becomes clear that Radner's prognosis is hopeless, one feels the loss. The stars are also graceful in executing a trio of dance routines when one would be more than enough. One looks forward to seeing them in other vehicles, unburdened by the task of impersonating such iconic personalities. Christian Fleming's set design efficiently stands in for a variety of locations, including a CNBC studio, a Hotel Carlyle suite, and Wilder's Los Angeles home, aided by Brian Pacelli's images of New York and Hollywood skylines. (The imagery is surprisingly low-res, creating a notably pixelated effect.) Max Silverman's sound design skillfully delivers his original musical as well as the voice of Dick Cavett. (The play's framing device features Wilder being interviewed by Cavett.) Gregory Gale's costumes and Jose Santiago's lighting are both solid. At this time of year, the attractions at 59E59 often have a summer stock quality, and this slim, mildly amusing bio play fits that framework; possibly, it will draw older audience members who fondly recall the days of Saturday Night Live and Young Frankenstein. But one can only hope that, in real life, Wilder and Radner were more interesting than they are made out to be here. --David Barbour 
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