“I Love You, You’re Perfect, Now Change” is a musical composed of several vignettes that explore the world of dating, sex, and marriage. The Seattle Musical Theatre’s production features four actors—Mike Bowers, Jeff Church, Molli Corocran, and Meghan Derr—who play a myriad of roles from a pair of bumbling teenagers to a sex-starved married couple to two lonely, widowed funeral attendees. The two-person orchestra occupies the center of the stage, with Michael Nutting’s excellent piano skills carrying the entirety of the show’s music and Jordan Louie occasionally adding her violin.
The book and lyrics by Joe DiPietro provide little in the way of originality. The vignettes are cliché representations of the basic stages of dating in our culture. We see the first kiss between a young man and woman who fumble through a discussion about lasagna and condoms, we see a mom and dad argue in the car while the kids goof off in the back seat, and we see a bitter divorcee’s cringe-worthy attempt at creating an online dating video. These stock scenes fall short of even the predictable humor we have come to expect from the sitcoms and romantic comedies that recycle these same relationship milestones.
The first act of SMT’s production is painfully slow. It captures all the awkwardness of dating without any of the romance, humor, or fun. The songs (which are also slow) are usually performed as the actors stand in one place or wander around the stage. Between vignettes, we see images from popular movies (mostly romantic comedies) projected onto a screen. Sometimes there is a clear relation between the image and the vignette it precedes, sometimes the movie title or image has been altered to fit the show, and sometimes I was left scratching my head trying to figure out the connection.
The second act picks up for a while. Vignettes like “Sex and the Married Couple” and “The Family That Drives Together” have a few funny moments. We see a bit more dancing, although never the energy or choreography called for by songs like “Marriage Tango.” The last few vignettes slow back down, grasping at sentimentality and gravity but falling flat. Besides a few changes in costume and posture, there is little difference between the dozens of underdeveloped characters in this show, and it is difficult to feel sympathy for them as they occupy the stage for only a few minutes each.
Watching this production in the auditorium-like theatre at Magnuson Park was reminiscent of sitting through a nephew’s school play. I found myself rooting for the performers, hoping the show would get better, but ultimately unimpressed.