Oh, the trials of love. No subject is as tired or ravenously consumed as love, typically served up in small, hackneyed doses of rom coms, pop music and poetry. The symbols-a rose, a ring, a kiss-rarely vary, so when some piece of art attempts to provide a new representation, say, boating, it's worth taking note. Driven by manic, inexperienced Jack, "Jack Goes Boating" creates its own incarnations of romantic love, with boating becoming a symbol for devotion.

As a young married couple, Lucy (Amanda Duarte) and Clyde (Gabriel Marin) have their share of problems. One of them, arguably, is their good friend Jack (Danny Wolohan), whose lack of love experience necessitates their attentive help once he meets the girl of his dreams. The girl, Connie (Beth Wilmurt), proposes boating as an activity they can perhaps someday share. She also wants a man who can cook for her. Taking her whims to heart with a reckless sincerity, Jack enlists Clyde to teach him to swim and practices culinary arts with Lucy as his taste-tester.

A sort of wannabe white Rasta (the program defines him as a "Wasta"), Jack half-heartedly spouts the soothing wisdom of Jah but has not achieved serenity. He has a nasty nervous habit of clearing his throat with a wretch whenever anxiety grips his large frame, which is often. His erratic tresses, gelled into imitation dreadlocks, reflect a personality teetering between dogged pleaser and paranoid combatant. The only aspect more obvious than his bear-sized body is his tender manner, which helps him win over the audience even faster than he does Connie. Their courtship fits the expected description of awkward and funny but is also unexpected in that it's magnetic and charismatic.

The amorous bedroom conversations between the two timid lovers maintain a sense of privacy that would be lost on a big, elevated stage, and it gives their budding romance a more genuine feel. The Aurora's intimate stage, which is set at the level of the audience and surrounded by seats on three sides, contributes significantly to this end and proved an ideal host for the particular composition of "Jack Goes Boating."

Because the Aurora lacks space or curtains, set changes are difficult to carry out, requiring an emphasis on character instead of plot. Accordingly, "Boating" relies on witty, highly emotional dialogue to keep the audience engaged. In this limited format, melodrama is easily forgiven. The conversations, many of which escalate into full scale shouting matches, most often involve a single pair on stage-Jack and Connie, Clyde and Lucy or any other two-person variation of the foursome. Line by line, these exchanges flesh out the characters' particular histories, personalities and views on love.

Despite the set's limitations, the Aurora crew was able to broaden the play's setting with some nifty visual tricks. Casting the stage in a murky, bluish light created the scene of Jack's swimming lessons. Standing by himself, ostensibly at the water's edge, Clyde hollers like a rabid swim coach, imitating leg kicks with his arms and provoking uncontrollable laughter during his two pool-side monologues.

This kind of comic intensity was enhanced by the cast's wholehearted commitment to strong Brooklyn accents and aggressive New York mannerisms. The close proximity to the stage of even the worst seats requires each actor to maintain character at all times. The cast seems to relish the task, consciously assuming postures and movements that both paid tribute to and caricatured New Yorkers. The constant f-bombs and use of the greeting "yo!" reinforce the setting, while adding comedy and realism-a willingness to revel in the muck of love instead of cheesily honoring it.

"Jack Goes Boating" is the story of two couples set in opposition. Jack and Connie (starry-eyed, innocent) seem like the puppy lovers to Lucy and Clyde's bickering married couple. The play's dramatic finale, distorted thanks to an assortment of drugs, reveals the two couples to be ages apart. But as we all learn sooner or later, no matter what anyone else presumes, only the lovers themselves can really know what exists between them. Appropriately, not even the Aurora's audience can comprehend it.