Review: Little House on the Ferry, a Gay Old Time in a Bad New Musical

Oh, to return to the Obama era — a simpler, happier age for America, when righteous anger could still be channeled into effective political action. That’s the backdrop of Robert Gould’s new musical Little House on the Ferry, now playing at the cabaret space upstairs at the Duplex, which has been appropriately rechristened “Ferry’s Landing” (this is the first show in the space since a 2022 fire forced it to close). While not a disaster on par with the Titanic, this is likely not the maiden voyage the venue’s owners were hoping for.

The ferry in question is the one that every summer spirits vacationers from Sayville to Fire Island, that queer mecca floating on a sand bar off Long Island. It’s June 2011, the weekend of gay pride in New York. But Randall (Charles Osborne), his attorney boyfriend Timothy (Andrew Leggieri), and new friend Antonio (Gilberto Saenz) are getting out of the city to spend the weekend at Little House on the Ferry, the share house owned by Donnie (Christopher Harrod, convincingly and sensitively portraying a gay man of a certain age). They should be kicking back by the pool, but Randall’s face in buried in his phone as he follows the latest developments on the gay marriage bill in Albany.

“It simply won’t pass,” says Timothy, a pessimist with a Park Avenue penthouse. But the presence on Fire Island of handsome, semi-famous gay blogger Jake Wallace (a charming Troy Valjean Rucker) leads Randall to suspect that a big change could be coming to marriage in New York. Could it also portend a big change in Randall’s love life?

We sure hope so, because the guy he’s with is the worst (Leggieri luxuriates Timothy’s awfulness with grinning relish). We know he’s a baddie because he’s a lawyer who dresses like a psychopath, although no one is outfitted particularly well: The costumes (by Indigo) feature long pants and shiny loafers, suggesting a designer who has never been to Fire Island (or any beach) before.

The predictable plot is conveyed through mostly forgettable songs (co-written by Gould and Rob Arbelo) that often feel like a musical intro to gay male life in the early 21^st century, with titles like “Vanity” and “Steroid Queen.” While competently performed by the cast, they all have the musty aroma of karaoke about them as the actors sing along to tinny canned accompaniment (Corey Kline is the music producer).

“We’re on Fire *clap clap* Island,” is the lyric you’re most likely to remember, as it is repeated ad nauseam — but I’ll personally never forget Osborne crooning an aching “I want” song about “A decision today / On marriage that’s gay.”

Osborne is one of the funniest actors in New York (and a delightful presence on Instagram). I have no doubt that he can play the big beating heart of a great romantic comedy — but Little House on the Ferry isn’t it. Facing a dearth of emotional truth in the script, Osborne reaches for (and easily plucks) the low-hanging fruit of cheap laughs. It’s one of the few things that make this 90-minute musical (which feels much longer) bearable.

The rest of the cast is perfectly adequate, with Xana DuMe playing a somewhat superfluous drag queen (and delivering an impressive tap-dance routine). I clapped extra loud for Saenz, who valiantly perseveres through the indignity of enacting a romantic B-plot opposite an inflatable muscle hunk (surely not what he was expecting when he graduated from Yale Drama). Kailin Brown, Manuela Agudelo, and Kelsey Rogers play the Greek chorus, high-steeping into a variety of roles, from caterwauling fish to screeching seagulls.

Victoria Rae Sook steadily directs the immersive production, which has the cast performing Michael McCrary’s frenetic choreography in every available inch of empty space as the audience hugs the perimeter of the theater, seated in very stingy patio furniture (scenic design by Shawn Lewis). It looks like a rainbow vomited all over the floor, which might be a punkish comment on the centrality of drinking to the LGBT community. After all, this is the Duplex, and the bar remains open throughout the performance (try the Planter’s Punch if you want to experience the authentic taste of sugary regret).

Little House on the Ferry harks back to a time when sitcoms like Will & Grace and Modern Family helped normalize the presence of gay people in American life — one of the many factors that paved the way for same-sex marriage (although not nearly as important as real gay people coming out to their friends and family). Conversely, I fear I emerged from this musical slightly more homophobic, and I’ve been married to a dude for 11 years. It’s not quite a hate crime against musical theater, but it comes awfully close.