Luna Theater Company producing artistic director Gregory Scott Campbell writes that his small theater fills a void "by producing known works that have been forgotten or ignored." Sometimes, though, that's a play's appropriate fate. Consider Lanford Wilson's Burn This.

In Wilson's prolific career, commercial triumph exists inversely with quality. For every superficial hit like Burn This or Talley's Folly, he's penned a neglected gem like The Mound Builders or Serenading Louie. Burn This offered the same indulgent, unmoving tedium on Broadway nearly 20 years ago—despite John Malkovich and Joan Allen's efforts—that Luna exposes through March 5.

Lovely Aaryn Kopp plays dancer Anna, whose gay roommate Robbie recently died. Other gay roommate Larry (Eric Courtwright) flails and weeps, and rich boyfriend Burton (Patrick Doran) commiserates. Then Robbie's brother Pale arrives—real name Jimmy, but with a cool nickname from his favorite cognac—and Robbie is soon forgotten because Pale, played by Chris Fluck, weeps and flails (but it's rough, manly weeping and flailing), and suddenly Anna gets the hot sex she needs to fuel her stalled choreography.

The rest plays out like a very loud episode of … something we wouldn't continue watching. Pale shows up on New Year's Eve, Burton finds out they've rutted, Anna throws Burton out—because, of course, what good girls really need is a bad guy who's a good fuck—but then she tosses Pale too ("We're apples and oranges," she sobs), and her choreography (which could be basket weaving or brain surgery, for all that Anna is believably a dancer) suddenly improves. Therefore, Larry reasons, Anna really loves Pale, so he contrives to reunite them.

If I ruined the story for you, thank me.

Campbell's production is an exercise in pushing. Kopp's grief for Robbie is one flat note of hysteria repeated endlessly, while Fluck plays the anger-spewing Pale—including a parking rant that Philadelphians can really relate to—like a sprinter in a marathon; after an initial burst, he's wheezing to catch up. Courtwright is auditioning for the outrageous gay sidekick role that Sean Hayes won long ago. Only Doran seems centered—but Wilson writes him off, and out, suggesting only that rejection makes nice guys stronger.

Luna continues a tradition of eschewing production elements, with a set that's more basement rec room than Manhattan loft, and perfunctory lighting and music resulting in artless scene changes.

Oh, If only someone had said "burn this" to Lanford Wilson!

BURN THIS Through March 5, Luna Theater Company, Walnut Street Theater Studio Five, 825 Walnut St., 215-704-0033, www.lunatheater.org