LOVE, SEX, AND THE I.R.S.
But that’s not all. Jon, a chronically underemployed musician, has been making ends meet by claiming a tax exemption for Leslie–as his wife. And now a representative from the IRS wants to come and audit their books. In addition, Jon and Leslie live in an apartment building that does not permit unmarried couples and is run by a nosy landlord who keeps an eye out for live-in females.
Best of Chicago voting is live now. Vote for your favorites »
Yes, we are on the well-traveled ground of the 50s farce. Never mind that Love, Sex, and the I.R.S. was written in 1979–when the society it portrayed must have already been considered hopelessly passe–this is a literary form substantially unchanged since the days of the Doris Day-Rock Hudson movies. Since the days of Plautus, for that matter. It contains all the elements of the genre: the young man who must masquerade as a woman, the virgin who must masquerade as the vamp, the lecherous old man posing as a keeper of the public morals, the shrewish woman threatened with imprisonment, the mother making a surprise visit, not one but two characters–a young nerd and an elderly dowager–who get staggering drunk, amorous men chasing frightened women around the sofa, angry men chasing frightened men around the desk, people crawling out on window ledges, and the ingenue saying “Jon, do something!” every 15 minutes.
