"Gum" is a play about secrets, sensuality, repression and licentiousness.

Written by newcomer Karen Hartman and receiving its world premiere in Center Stage's Head Theater, "Gum" is set in an unnamed Middle Eastern country where women are veiled. Little else, however, is veiled in this brutally frank drama, which deals in part with the horrors of female genital mutilation.

It's an issue that's unlikely to appeal to a wide audience, and this challenge is compounded by a script that, though set in a distant, exotic land, is largely devoid of mystery. To say that Center Stage has a hard sell ahead would be a supreme understatement.

The play's most involving element is the relationship between its two central characters -- a pair of young adult sisters, Lina and Rahmi. Their closeness is lovingly and playfully depicted by Millie Chow as sweet, innocent Lina and Miriam A. Laube as older, but far from wiser, Rahmi.

The action begins with Lina offering Rahmi a stick of chewing gum -- an illegal substance in their fundamentalist country. (Hartman based this aspect of her play on a news account about a provincial Egyptian town).

Laube's Rahmi can barely sit still as she describes the pleasures of gum. Her large, dark eyes sparkle, and her feet tap faster and faster until she can no longer resist Lina's offer.

When, at Lina's urging, Rahmi recounts the day she surrendered her virginity to two boys in a car, the sensuousness of her description is surprisingly similar to the way she has just luxuriously described the joy of gum.

Of course, a country that forbids chewing gum is unlikely to look favorably on Rahmi's other activities. Fortunately, she is protected from disgrace -- or a worse fate -- by her rich, privileged family. Her father (who does not appear on stage) has hastily agreed to a marriage contract from a lowly perfume merchant, Inayat (Joseph Kamal).

"Gum," however, is a kind of ominous fable, and, despite the presence of this potential prince charming, there's never any doubt that Rahmi will be punished for her loose behavior. And be warned: There's a good deal of stage blood involved.

But predictable as her punishment may be, other aspects of the play are more difficult to fathom. Hartman's language, for example, sends oddly mixed signals. Inayat's conversation with Rahmi is at once stilted and curiously sexual. "So many of God's fine gifts appeal to more than one orifice," he tells her.

And, although the play's fictitious culture is supposed to be repressive, certain subjects are apparently perfectly acceptable for social discourse.

Lina and Rahmi's aunt (Dale Soules), who raised the girls after their mother's death, openly discuss the fact that Rahmi is not circumcised, and Inayat admits that he patronizes uncircumcised prostitutes. (Try to imagine a prospective newlywed in America having a similar conversation with a future in-law.)

Hartman and director Tim Vasen create a world on stage that is unlike any other -- a little too much so. For instance, as designed by Anita Yavich, the veiled garb worn by the sisters is bright red and fashioned out some sort of stretch fabric. Possibly this is intended to symbolize the theme of passion in the face of restrictions, but it sends a decidedly confusing message. To establish a credible new world for an audience, that world must have inner logic before an audience can make the leap to symbolism.

"Gum" is only about 80 minutes long and is performed without intermission. Woefully lacking in subtlety, it does nonetheless have the small virtue of portraying some growth and change in the characters of the aunt and Lina. But what they learn about the dangers of their restrictive culture is what most Western audiences already know.

The payoff scarcely seems sufficient for the chance Center Stage has taken in staging a play with such graphic language and sexuality.

'Gum'

Where: Center Stage, 700 N. Calvert St.

When: 8 p.m. Tuesdays through Saturdays, 7: 30 p.m. March 28; matinees at 2 p.m. Saturdays and Sundays and 1 p.m. tomorrow. Through March 28

Tickets: $24-$29

Call: 410-332-0033

Pub Date: 3/16/99