In "Love For ... Love," Lee seduces a hapless chair to the strains of Usher's "Can U Handle It." He dances and prances around the dorm room set to comedic effect, lip synching, throwing come-hither looks, stripping and even simulating sex with the chair (it's actually slightly more tasteful than it sounds). Despite all the silly posturing, it's obvious that Lee is a talented dancer. And even at his cheesiest, Lee's natural charm shines through. But what makes the scene work are the periodic interruptions-from his cell phone, from the skipping CD player, from a woman knocking on his door. We've all danced alone in our rooms before, even if we don't go as far as Lee's character does here. There's nothing like an untimely interruption to remind us just how ridiculous we're being.
The next scene, "Love For Myself," is a compelling spoken-word piece about race. Lee begins by disparaging American racism, but then moves into touchier territory when he turns his criticism to other black people for glorifying violence and "street smarts" while rejecting book smarts. "I ain't afraid of 'The Man,' 'cause I got my own power. I'm more afraid of a brother killing me for a dollar," he says. "Myself" is perhaps the most moving of the four scenes. Underlying Lee's perfectly paced poetry is such powerful raw emotion that even when he goes into a dynamic parody of BET rappers, it's difficult to laugh.
Lee then shifts gears with "Love For Another." An exaggerated slapstick piece set to classical music, it's like a "Tom and Jerry" cartoon brought to life. Lee takes the phrase "attached at the hip" quite literally: during the entire sequence, he and the endearing Taharqa "T" Patterson '05 have snapped their warm-ups together. They wake up, get dressed, and go to school, where mayhem breaks out among the students (Lee, Patterson, Christopher Gillyard '08, Nick Haslett '07 and Brendan Horton '08) behind the teacher's (Pete Harper '05) back. Pillows, slaps, trips, flying papers, and a gigantic pencil are all involved. It's long and pointless, but it's fun, and the actors do physical comedy quite well.
The final piece, "Love For Yourself" is both personal and-at least in the universe of Amherst College-universal. It opens with a young man's (Lee) arrival at college, eager to explore the possibilities. We follow him as he moves through familiar collegiate scenes, as a recorded monologue by Lee explains the character's inner thoughts. Before we know it, the character's four years are up. In an ending bound to resonate with any graduationg senior, we watch as the character packs up to a soulful rendition of Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah," performed here by Harper and his guitar.
"Love"'s scenes are disparate enough that it is easier to see them as four separate pieces than as one work. It functions better as a showcase for Lee's varied skills than it does as a singular theatre piece; Lee dabbles in so many things that we don't see the full extent of his ability in any of them. Moreover, some of the effects of the high comedy and the pathos are lost.
Love is too big an idea to comprehend in such a short time, and Lee doesn't try. But if nothing else, the careful balance of all the elements, along with the charm and talent of Lee and his co-stars, makes "Love" a pleasant way to spend an hour.