Brothers Pasquale (Vincent Pastore) and Nino (David Proval) are set against each other in mob drama (photo by Russ Rowland)

Theatre at St. Clement’s
423 West 46th St. between Ninth & Tenth Aves.
Thursday – Tuesday through July 26, $49-$99
aqueenforadayplay.com

I have to admit that I’m a little hesitant to share my true thoughts about the new mob drama, A Queen for a Day, for fear of, well, unpleasant reprisals like being whacked, as the cast includes three Sopranos veterans. In the play, which was written by lawyer and film and theater producer Michael Ricigliano Jr. (Lily of the Feast) and directed by John Gould Rubin (Hedda Gabler, The Predators’ Ball), there’s a whole lot of unnecessary shouting, the dialogue is choppy, the plot is overcooked, the acting is inconsistent, and the direction is leaden. That said, the audience, highlighted by some loud cheerleading by a well-known Italian American actor, loved it, rising to their feet in unison at the end. Maybe they know what’s good for them. As part of a massive organized crime sweep, made man Giovanni “Nino” Cinquimani (David “Richie Aprile” Proval) and his Jewish lawyer, Sanford Weiss (David Deblinger), are in a Jersey warehouse, secretly meeting with Patricia Cole (Portia), a Fed who is offering Nino a proffer agreement, an arrangement known as “Queen for a Day,” in which he spills his guts on the spot, and the government decides whether the information is valuable enough to grant him immunity and witness protection in exchange for further testimony — or sends him back out on the streets to take his chances. “You see, Nino, if I put you on the stand, it’s warts and all,” Patricia tells him, “and I won’t have any surprises. I’m not naive, so if you hold back from me, we’re done! You understand! No immunity, no plea deals, and you get to roll the dice with the rest of your goombahs. It’s now or never.” But Nino’s caught in quite a pickle, as the man she wants him to give up is his younger brother, mob boss Pasquale Cinquimani (Vincent “Big Pussy” Pastore). The title of the play not only pertains to the proffer agreement but also to the popular mid-twentieth-century television game show in which people shared their woes with America, hoping to win prizes, as well as slyly referencing a ridiculous plot twist. (A second, major turn of events works very well, but it’s one of the only things that does.) Over the course of ninety minutes, the characters discuss respect across two kinds of family — from mothers, fathers, brothers, and lovers to capos, made men, and rats — but the two parts never come together in a satisfying way, resulting in a rather abrupt and confusing conclusion. There, I said it. I spilled my guts. I hope I’m not outfitted soon with a pair of concrete shoes.