I was a huge fan of Peter Parnell's work back in the 80s; I thought Romance Language and Hyde in Hollywood were big passionate plays, showing an adept weaving of big ideas and multiple characters.
But once TV claimed him, Parnell seemed to write soaps for the stage, like Dada Woof Papa Hot. As has been stated, it's seven wealthy white people sitting or standing around talking about how difficult their lives and feelings are. They all are obsessed with their children, but not as people; they discuss children the way fashionistas discuss clothes, or interior designers discuss furniture. To these people, children are mere accessories that add color and sparkle to to their status-driven lives. And if Parnell were satirizing that emptiness, it would be interesting; but it seems clear that now that he's married with a child of his own, writing soppy kiddie books with his husband, this is what he thinks the world's deepest issues are.
As for the production, it's the NYC standard; a blandly attractive set that glides silently around the stage between scenes, synchronized to an attractive lite-jazz score. I thought Pankow and Overbey came closest to creating characters (as opposed to characteristics), but no one is written deep here. Why Blanchard chooses to play her character with a Mob Wife accent is slightly distracting, but I suppose she wanted to do something to be noticed in a relatively thankless role. The 2 seconds of nudity is totally gratuitous; one gets the feeling that Scott Ellis had great lust in his heart for Alex Hurt and made him strip briefly, for purely personal enjoyment.
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I really don't understand the greatest plot point; maybe its just me but I can't imagine an intelligent, committed-for-13-years couple almost splitting up merely because one of them KISSED another man. It's manipulated playwrighting at its worst.
I hope Parnell finds his way back to writing about less banal lives.