FRANK MORGAN

Not too long ago in Sag Harbor, Morgan Bassichis spent time at an artist residency. For those unfamiliar with such places, Morgan wryly explained that “an art residency is when you go somewhere else to have sex with people.” During open visiting hours, a man stopped by the studio and asked about Morgan’s art, to which the performer described himself as part comedian, part singer, part performance artist. The man mentioned his brother — Frank Maya. “He did the same as you.” Not knowing who that was, Morgan nodded politely “because that’s what you do to show people you’re listening.” The encounter changed everything. After googling Frank Maya’s legacy, the first thought? “I’m going to win a Tony Award!”

One of Bassichis’ great charms is the willingness to say out loud the thoughts most of us keep to ourselves, freely admitting there’s often no telling why these thoughts arise: “The brain is a mystery.” And in this case, it’s a delightful one — outrageously candid, neurotically endearing, and nervously unpredictable. Notice how the mic cord gets repeatedly and unintentionally wound again and again around one shoulder, a physical tic as lovable as it is awkward.

The audience erupted at that anecdote because we were all, at that very moment, trying to figure out where to place our own knees in the Playhouse’s notoriously cramped seats. That mix of personal discomfort, self-awareness, and absurd honesty sets the tone for the night.

Can I Be Frank? opens with Frank Maya’s scathing rant about Liberace, delivered at full throttle. Morgan quickly stops with, “I came in way too hot,” admitting that the show is still being fine-tuned: “Obviously we’re going to be tweaking this show as we go. This is not some sort of ‘finished, complete, perfect’ work in the antisemitic sense.”

For most of the evening, Bassichis runs at full-speed, balls-to-the-wall level 10. The high energy and stream-of-consciousness style create a wild ride you’re happy to cling to. But make no mistake: Morgan claims to have “more of an ensemble role in this production — Frank Maya is the true star of the night.” That’s the only outright lie told all night.

The instinct to craft a show “based on and with original material by Frank Maya” is inspired. When the audience was asked, not a single member knew Maya — the first openly gay comic to perform nationally on network television. Not long after the height of his career in 1987, Maya died in 1995 of AIDS-related complications, just before life-saving medication finally became available.

Morgan resurrects Maya’s voice with both reverence and playfulness, performing Frank’s controversial Liberace rant, and later a monologue about dating called “The First Time You Go Home With Someone.” Three of Maya’s songs are sung: “Polaroid Children,” “Boxes of You,” and “Mourning and Militancy,” along with signature bits like an audience Q&A (for which pre-written questions are provided), “Letters from Dead People” (featuring a note from Lucille Ball), and — most astonishingly — a letter from Frank himself, written to Morgan! Okay, even if it’s not true, the moment is funny, absurd, and moving all at once.

Director Sam Pinkleton, fresh off a Tony win for Oh, Mary!, gives the show a manic, runaway-train pace. The frenzy feels chaotic, but it’s the kind of bedlam born of total control — experts at the top of their craft making it look effortless.

By the end, Morgan accomplishes exactly what was set out to do: make us know Frank Maya. Along the way, we also come to know Morgan too — as a comic, singer, and political truth-teller who stands on Maya’s shoulders while carving out his own impressive path. The show culminates in a passionate, galvanizing list of reasons why Maya and others like him deserve to be remembered. The audience snapped, applauded, and cheered — a rare moment when tribute, comedy, and activism merged into something urgent, alive, and thoroughly entertaining.

Can Morgan be Frank? Indeed. Learn. Listen. Be inspired.

photos by Emilio Madrid

Can I Be Frank?
Soho Playhouse, 15 Vandam St.
70 minutes, no intermission
Mon-Fri at 7; Sat at 5 & 8; Sun at 5 (Aug 31); dark Sept 1
ends on September 13, 2025
for tickets, visit Can I Be Frank? or Soho Playhouse

# # # # # # # # # #

Gregory Fletcher is an author, a theater professor, a playwright, director, and stage manager. His publishing credits include a craft book on playwriting entitled Shorts and Briefs, as well as a collection entitled A Playwright’s Dozen: 13 short plays. Other publishing includes two YA novels (Other People’s Crazy, and Other People’s Drama), 2 novellas in the series Inclusive Bedtime Stories, 2 short stories in The Night Bazaar series, and five essays. Website, Facebook, Instagram.