Wedding planning, as most of us know from experience, can be mightily stressful — How much to spend? Who to invite? — etc., etc., etc. And then what if the betrothed couple comprises a self-proclaimed “radical lesbian feminist” who disdains marriage as a heterosexual conceit unworthy of emulation and a well-established, wealthy lawyer who’s still in the closet to her family and most friends?

That’s the situation in “The Marriage Bed,” Nona Sheppard’s comedy about the dilemma faced by two seven-year lovers in 2006 after the United Kingdom passed its Civil Partners Act, giving marital rights to same-sex couples. Diversionary is giving “Bed” its West Coast debut, especially timely as a San Francisco judge weighs his ruling on the legality of California’s Prop. 8, which banned gay marriage.

Dana Hooley (left) and Dre Slaman

Photo by Daren Scott

Val (Dana Hooley) is 55, a London Underground station manager and a longtime veteran of women’s battles for equal rights. Jeni (Dré Slaman) is 30-something, highly paid and the veteran of an unhappy marriage to a male. They’re also considered interracial, Val being white and Jeni with Indian parents, but this play makes little of that particular issue.

More germanely, it illustrates that, in addition to the usual decisions couples have to make about marriage and commitment to each other, gay pairs have to struggle with attitudes shaped over the decades about the institution itself. Val, for instance, awakens from a bad dream that represents her mixed feelings about the imminent event, which she cleverly illustrates to the audience with silhouetted figures and Jason Bieber’s always-helpful lighting.

Sheppard’s script has the two women, depending on their feelings of the moment, go back and forth on the idea of wedding, allowing discussion of the full range of issues and emotions involved. When Val expresses reluctance because she fears being dependent on anyone, Jeni details the list of valuable and human rights given by the Act — which brought applause from a highly sympathetic audience.

Hooley, fresh from winning a San Diego Theatre Critics Craig Noel Award for her performance in Ion Theatre’s “Frozen,” gives another rangy portrayal, and she’s balanced neatly by the more restrained Slaman under Rosina Reynolds’ appealing direction.

Oh, yes, there’s also a third character — Jeni’s mom. She’s embodied by a puppet (uncredited, unless it’s considered one of David Medina’s pertinent props), which Slaman deftly manipulates and enlivens with a mother’s Indian-accented voice.

Omar Ramos’s sound provide appropriate emphasis or underscoring, and Jennifer Brawn Gittings’ costumery shows best in the colorful tops worn by Slaman. Jane Lamotte’s set consists mainly of — what else? — a four poster, which converts neatly for a stirring final image. There’s also a pedestal table featuring a wooden carving of a Hindu goddess, whose profile, at least as depicted here, remarkably resembles Angela Lansbury.

Cast and credits