A few years back, Morgan Bassichis found what might best be described as a soulmate. This dreamboat, like Bassichis, was a gifted, queer performance artist who leveraged sardonic comedy as means to spread joy, wisdom, and even activism. He instantly struck a chord deep within Bassichis.
There was one catch, however. This soulmate happened to be Frank Maya, who died in 1995. Tragically, the comedian succumbed to AIDS-related heart failure at age 45, just months before the lifesaving protease inhibitors became available.
Not that this fazed Bassichis. In fact, after learning more about Maya’s frenetic, groundbreaking work in the late 1980s and early ’90s, Bassichis was inspired to honor Maya with a solo show, titled “Can I Be Frank?,” now at SoHo Playhouse. The dizzying, 70-minute comedy is written and performed by Bassichis, integrating original material from Maya’s legendary performances.
“I became obsessed, right then and there,” Bassichis says, after being told that their work was uncannily similar to Maya’s. “I needed to find out everything I could about this person that felt so familiar and yet l’d never heard of, all the questions we all have when we discover an artistic ancestor.”
Maya was one of the first unabashedly gay performers to enter the cultural mainstream, with comic stints on Comedy Central and MTV. And while his obituary merited several column inches in the New York Times, there is no Wikipedia page devoted to him. His legacy was on the verge of being lost, and Bassichis wanted to preserve it.
The piece is directed by none other than Sam Pinkleton, who currently has another hot one-person show on the boards downtown, Josh Sharp’s “ta-da!” He earned a Tony for “Oh, Mary!” earlier this year.
Under Pinkleton’s guidance, “Can I Be Frank?” is a sidesplitting romp that ricochets between stream-of-conscious ramblings about fame, fortune, sex, HIV/AIDS, and fighting the oppressive regime in Washington. And of course, the life and writings of Frank Maya.
At the top of the show, Bassichis delivers a rancorous spiel about Liberace, the flamboyant pianist who spent his life cowering in the closet. “You died of AIDS and you lied,” Bassichis says. “Why did you lie? You could have helped so many people.” That was a snippet from a show titled “Frank Maya Talks,” performed at La MaMa theater in the East Village in 1987. As it happens, “Can I Be Frank” was originally developed last year at that very same venue.
Maya had a penchant for mingling with the audience, fourth wall be damned. Likewise, Bassichis includes a wacky Q&A segment where the house lights go up and randomly selected audience members get to ask probing questions. Never mind that they are pre-written by Bassichis on notecards and must be read verbatim. They all start with an effusive compliment, naturally.
Another segment finds Bassichis mimicking another bit that Maya did, reading letters supposedly written to him by dead celebrities like Lucille Ball. Bassichis even reads one from the ghost of Maya himself, closing the letter with “See you soon.” The meta aspect of this schtick was as funny as it was mind-bending.
The non-binary comic delivers the material with a manic energy that is both endearing and unnerving. Bassichis loves mocking human behavior and spoofing political correctness. Throughout the proceedings, Bassichis barks orders to an unseen stage manager. “Gloria, hit the track!” Bassichis says, and then proceeds to sing one of Maya’s trademark songs, “Polaroid Children,” a warped ode to instant gratification.
“This show is my attempt to try to pass on my obsession to you, to make sure everyone knows the name Frank Maya,” Bassichis says. “And if they have to learn my name too along the way, let go and let God.”
Thanks in part to the riotous, albeit scattershot “Can I Be Frank,” perhaps Maya will get his dedicated Wikipedia page after all.
Can I Be Frank? | SoHo Playhouse | 15 Vandam St. | $60 – $95 | https://www.canibefrank.nyc/ | Through September 13, 2025 | 70 min., no intermission
