'DAY' A THOUGHTFUL LOOK AT TOUGH TOPIC.

Byline: Daryl H. Miller Daily News Theater Critic

Playwright Anthony Piccirillo walks dangerous ground in his new drama "The 24th Day."

With his frank discussion of safety and responsibility in the age of AIDS, he risks offending some people's sensibilities and contradicting others' deeply held opinions. What's more, he hazards the anger of those who believe too much blame and fear have been heaped on people living with the AIDS virus.

That he navigates this territory in a reasoned, even-handed and compelling manner is a testament not only to his writing but to the superb directing and acting devoted to its world premiere - starring popular TV stars Noah Wyle (medical student John Carter on "ER") and Peter Berg (Dr. Billy Kronk on "Chicago Hope") - at the Coronet Theatre in Los Angeles.

"The 24th Day" addresses a tenacious problem in America's cognizance of AIDS: By now, most people surely are aware of the virus and its means of transmission. Yet in the heat of sexual attraction, they often blind themselves to the gamble they're taking and proceed without proper safeguards.

Piccirillo examines the possible repercussions through an encounter that some might find contrived, perhaps even sensationalized. Yet the situation is entirely plausible and, for dramatic purposes, it gives the two characters ample opportunity to analyze their actions.

The scenario unfolds in a claustrophobically small apartment on Manhattan's Upper West Side, to which Tom (Berg) brings Dan (Wyle) after meeting him at a bar.

Dan, in his late 20s, is playful, flirtatious, well-educated and enormously full of himself. Tom, about the same age, is a working-class guy who's a bit rough around the edges - blunt and awkward, yet unpretentiously appealing.

Dan's advances send Tom on a panicked flight across the room to work up the courage to ask those embarrassing questions: How many sexual partners have you had, and are you safe?

Of course, those questions need to be asked nowadays. But there's something else going on here, a subtle game of cat and mouse. Tom doesn't trust his guest's answers, suggesting, "Your truth may not be the true truth."

Then he suddenly short-circuits, slamming Dan into the wall, handcuffing him and binding him in a chair. He draws a blood sample from Dan and heads out to have it tested for the AIDS virus.

As they await the results, Tom reveals his motives. He's infected with the virus and believes he passed it on to his wife. He believes Dan infected him during a brief encounter six years before, which Dan only dimly remembers. If the test comes back positive, Tom vows vengeance.

Meanwhile, they talk - sometimes angrily, sometimes compassionately, sometimes humorously.

Piccirillo stresses that AIDS can strike anyone, gay or straight, who doesn't heed the risk factors. He reminds us that safety lapses can have ramifications beyond ourselves. He poignantly illustrates the grim knowledge that haunts those living with the virus.

And when the results come back, Piccirillo avoids laying blame. He's raised enough doubt to leave it unclear exactly how the virus entered these lives.

There's not a false word or gesture in Wyle or Berg's performances. They give their all to the material, so much so that at Friday's final preview, Wyle accidentally smacked Berg with a candlestick and opened a gash at the hairline that required six stitches. However, the show went on to open Saturday in front of a crowd that included much of the "ER" and "Chicago Hope" casts.

Under Paul Lazarus' direction, the on-stage tension reaches out and grips the audience - reminding us that when it comes to AIDS, we're all in this together.