Jan Montcrief is a lesbian thespian, only she doesn’t know half of it. The first half of it, that is. Enter Kerry Ann, a new student who’s kind and refined, sweet and upbeat, and, much to Jan’s chagrin, a natural at acting.

When Kerry Ann is cast in The Crucible in a role Jan was determined to land, while Jan is consigned — er, assigned — to the part of Assistant Director, Jan is resentful. But Kerry Ann, with all her sincerity and geniality and offer to relinquish the role, makes it difficult if not impossible for Jan to sustain her disdain.

If you’re expecting the average dyke drama, then you’re in the wrong theatre. On the other hand, if you’re in the mood for a lovely love story, then you’ve got your nose in the right book. Jan and Kerry Ann approach the evolution of their feelings for each other with a mixture of maturity, delight, and fright. They communicate beautifully, though not colloquially, which is my only criticism, as their conversations are hard to hear, so to speak. At the same time, however, their dialect underlines rather than undermines the perfection of their connection.

Not surprisingly, not everyone thinks they’re so perfect for each other, which is why the couple is loath to be seen as a couple. There’s an omnipresent fear that someone is waiting in the wings — the Right Wings — to harass or expose or reject them. The Crucible, a play about young women who accuse their fellow females of witchcraft and shenanigans with Satan, complements the girls’ relationship in a way that is sharp yet subtle. I saw Jan and Kerry Ann with the Devil testifies a blustery, arrogant, and suspected closet case of a cast member, who stirs up trouble as if it were a potion in a cauldron.

Can Jan and Kerry Ann’s love upstage the hate? Or will it be curtains for them?