The 1999 movie Trick paired a timid musician with a confident hunk. They spent the night searching for a place to hook-up. Roommates, obnoxious friends and jealous rivals stood in their way. Queer romcoms were still rare and Trick found an eager audience. In 2025 Atlanta’s Out Front Theatre premiered a musical adaptation. The film’s screenwriter, Jason Schafer, crafted the book and lyrics. Arthur Lafrentz Bacon composed the music. I had the good fortune of attending the closing performance.

We open with Gabriel preparing for his musical theatre workshop. He’s inspired by Broadway shows of the 1930’s. His peers dismiss these as mindless and mysoginistic. Trick’s score is closer to the 2000’s. There are shades of Avenue Q and Title of Show. Schafer’s lyrics lack the cruelty and satire of those works. He, like Gabe, is aiming for something earnest and fun.

Schaffer’s book retains the structure of the film. But he provides new dialogue and characterizations. It takes courage to kill your darlings. It mostly pays off. The film’s songs and best lines are lost. Yet this frees the actors from imitating the film’s cast.

Comparisons are inevitable. Gabriel (Aavyn Lee) is younger and wispier than the twunky Christian Campbell. His naivety and sexual hang ups are more believable. BFF Kathryn (Leah Keelan) lacks Tori Spelling’s cruel edge. She brings a giddy, well-meaning exuberance to her scenes. The workshop instructor (Kayce Denise) has been gender swapped and given an arc. The vengeful Drag Superstar (Yutoya Avazé Leon at my performance. Tugboat the Queen on other dates) brings her own vulgar charms. I’m glad no one was asked to imitate Coco Peru’s quotable rant. Though the replacement monologue has more profanity than wit.

Will-Franklin Eller has the hardest job as the mysterious Marc. The films JP Pitoc was a go-go boy. He made a breath taking entrance in a red g-string. This Marc is merely a club patron wearing low rise jeans. This allows the near-naked go-go boys (Chase Graham and Jahari Franklin) to upstage him when he should be drawing every eye in the room. This Marc will eventually open up, and strip down, but it takes too long to invest in him.

Trick wants to be a crowd-pleasing entertainment. It succeeds. The first act provides a mix of the fresh and familiar. Act two is weaker. Stakes are lower. Rough edges have been sanded off. Ugly arguments have been cut. Supporting players sing novelty numbers while the central romance fades to the background. It needs punching up.

While gay film romcoms are now plentiful, they remain rare on stage. Trick provides needed representation. It’s not ready for Off-Broadway. Still, with a little tightening and sharpening, it could become a staple of queer storefront theaters.

You can find more of my reviews on The Avocado, Letterboxd and Serializd. My podcast, Rainbow Colored Glasses, can be found here.