Play gets its arms around love in a keen 90 minutes

Love stinks. No, wait - it's a many-splendored thing, right? And, oh yeah, it makes the world go 'round.

What is this thing called love? David Schulner's remarkably insightful An Infinite Ache, which opened Thursday at Independence Studio on the third floor of the Walnut Street Theatre, considers the question by taking us through the life of a couple. I use the singular, rather than lives, because Schulner's play clearly argues one point: Love and inextricable are closely related notions.

Schulner manages in one act to plumb a subject other, longer plays only scratch. In the Walnut's production, he has two top-notch actors making the points for him: Steven Klein and Eunice Wong, who begin the couple's relationship on a halting first date at 8 p.m. and - with rich and dynamic portrayals - reach the end of their lives together by 9:30.

She begins by complaining about first dates: Dinner is nothing more than "animalistic courtship feeding." "So," he responds, "did you like the salmon?"

The two move through life in Dave Miller's intimate setting that serves first as a skimpy, one-room starter apartment, then later as the master bedroom of a more substantial residence.

"Isn't it great to get past that lovey, touchy sex phase of the relationship?" she asks, and a few seconds later, they're riven apart by fear of commitment. And a few minutes after that, back together, fighting again about the meaning of love and its relationship to marriage.

She: "You don't know what love is."

He: "You have to be in love to get married?"

She (disgusted): "I think it's in the service somewhere."

The script often moves the couple from one stage of their relationship to another with a simple lighting cue, and, a few seconds later, to yet another. Matt Pfeiffer directs it all with a stopwatch sensibility.

Schulner's play is sometimes funny, and frequently so real it catches you off guard. The exception: a scene in which a tragedy befalls the couple. It's the only questionable writing in the script, weak because the dialogue seems unreal. Wong does well with it - she hits bull's-eyes with everything, as does Klein - even though the moment has a hollow theatricality.

The rest of the evening is as real as the feeling of love itself, when it grabs you and won't let go. Some memorable moments - one is a rapid series of bedside blackouts - will remind you of conversations you've had and never thought twice about. But the play will make you think twice, and more, about this thing called love.

Playing at: Walnut Street Theatre, Independence Studio on 3

Through: April 1

Information: 215-574-3550 or www.walnutstreettheatre.orgEndText