Now comes Love! Valour! Compassion!, the movie version of Terrence McNally's Tony-winning play, which has been opened up so wide that large pieces of it seem to have fallen out. The film was directed by Joe Mantello, who directed the stage version, and the screenplay is by McNally himself. The entire original cast has been assembled, with the exception of Nathan Lane, who has been replaced by Jason Alexander. The structure of the story has also been retained--eight gay men gather at a country house on three successive summer holiday weekends to talk about culture, politics, and love.

What's missing are the words. Love! Valour! Compassion! is a very chatty play, filled with jokes, arguments, and insights. The film version has been practically vetted; the characters are all in place, but their dialogue trails off. What's left is the outline of a story, filled in with long, silent passages in which the actors roam about the grounds of their appointed country house, as though they were delighted to be free of the stage at last.

The movie suffers from its sketchiness. The play had its heavy-handed moments of speechifying, but its dry humor soaked up the soggy spots. Without the naturalistic ebb and flow of conversation, McNally's observations about AIDS and promiscuity seem overemphasized, as if speeches alone were the story's raison d'tre. The characters are weaker for the abridgment as well. Reckless young dancer Ramon (Randy Becker) comes off as more horny and shallow than free-spirited and passionate; and the complicated relationship of committed couple Perry (Stephen Spinella) and Arthur (John Benjamin Hickey) has been reduced to hugs and spats.

Bright moments do remain. Alexander gives a charming performance as Buzz, even if he lacks the fringe of sorrow that Nathan Lane would've brought to the role; and John Glover is commanding as both the petty lout John and his sweet, frumpy brother James. Also, the play's genial camaraderie remains unsuppressed, as does its compelling portrait of a lively, close-knit gay community--a portrayal that allows a gay audience to feel connected and makes straight audiences wish they had such a base of support.

But there's a telling line in the play that's missing from the movie. Buzz, the aficionado of Broadway musicals, comments at dinner that "movies are for people who have to eat popcorn while they're being entertained." Does this reflect McNally's attitude toward cinema? Does this explain why the film of his play seems so flat and uncomplicated? Certainly the source material has the seeds of an interesting movie. Robert Altman, who has made several dynamic and faithful filmed plays, could've done wonders with the characters' constant asides to the audience, a conceit that's mostly absent from the film until its effective, climactic dance scene.