I've never been to one (really, Mom, I swear), but I imagine a bathhouse is much like the Downstairs Cabaret 2 space: dark, cramped, and at the preview performance I attended, perfumed with that distinct smell that comes only from public showers. That makes it a fitting venue for "Bathhouse: The Musical," a song-and-dance show that explores the hidden subculture of gay spas with tongue planted firmly in... well, let's not go there quite yet.

For the uninitiated, gay bathhouses (also known as spas, or saunas) are places where men go to have anonymous sex with other men. Sure, a person could go to rent a locker or room, take a steam, or work out. But the bottom line is, if you're there, you're almost certainly there to get off. Gay bathhouses have existed for centuries, dating back at least to ancient Greece, and they became popular in America in the early 20th century. By the gay-rights movement in the 1970's, bathhouses became major cultural institutions (Bette Midler famously got her start performing at New York's Continental Baths), and while the AIDS epidemic and police crackdowns resulted in many baths getting shut down, many still exist today. (And yes, Rochester has one.)

If any of the above - gay sex, anonymous sex, public sex - freaks you out, "Bathhouse: The Musical" probably isn't the show for you. But if you're up for it, and might like to look at four good-looking guys sing, dance, and wear naught but towels for 90 minutes, read on.

"Bathhouse" features four characters - essentially gay stereotypes - as they interact at, as the opening number puts it, their "friendly neighborhood bathhouse." David is happily married to a woman, but likes to sneak away to play with the boys at the baths whenever he gets the chance. Teddy is a self-avowed "bear chaser," meaning he likes his men big, burly, and hirsute. Maurice is a man whore; the hottest ticket in the house, and he knows it. Billy is the wide-eyed newbie with the arguably misguided notion that the baths are a great place to find Mr. Right, as opposed to Mr. Right Now.

Billy's indoctrination into bathhouse culture, and his quest for a boyfriend, form the base for the show's original songs. The music isn't what you'd call groundbreaking, but it is lively and largely entertaining, with some clever lyrics and a nice mix of tempos and genres. Notable numbers include the twangy dissection of Internet cruising, "Clickin' for Dick"; the Gospel-laden "Hottie Revival"; and the absolutely hysterical "Penises Are Like Snowflakes." If that last one immediately calls to mind five or six double entendres, trust me, playwrights Tim Evanicki and Esther Daack have the other 500 covered.

Casting is obviously crucial for the success of any show, but it's absolutely essential for a musical like "Bathhouse." Not only must each performer have the acting, comedy, and musical chops, but he, well, has to look good in a towel, too. The quartet that makes up DCT's staging ably succeeds in just about every one of those areas. Forget a slice of beefcake, ladies and gentlemen. At "Bathhouse," you get the whole cake.

Jeff Brooks was last seen at DCT stealing the show in "Parenting 101" as a tap-dancing grandmother. Here he goes even campier - yes, campier than a tap-dancing granny - as closeted David, who takes his trips to the bathhouse as an opportunity to gay it up to the nth degree. Matthew Barbato imbues Teddy with both sweet and lascivious touches, and would undoubtedly make any leather daddy a proud papa. Dick Baker is completely believable as lovelorn Billy, and with his combination of acting ability, a strong voice, and enviable pecs, he's one to watch.

Gaetano Pugliese looks the part of lothario Maurice, and when he's singing on his own he does just fine. But when he's sharing a song with one or more of the cast, he has a tendency to slide off pitch, which resulted in a couple of cringe-inducing moments at the preview I took in, especially during the show's final number, the sappy duet "Unlove Me."

A couple of bum notes aside, "Bathhouse" offers up a funny, cutesy look at a subject most straight people never even think about. A place to go with the express purpose of screwing the brains out of random people? Those gays have all the fun. Now at least the hets can peer into the steam room. 

Bathhouse: The Musical

Downstairs Cabaret Theatre 2, 172 W Main St

July 11-July 27

$24-$27 | 325-4370 | downstairscabaret.com