`BLADE' THROWS FIGHT FOR IDENTITY, DESIRE INTO BRUTAL BOXING MILIEU.

Byline: Daryl H. Miller Daily News Theater Critic

``Blade to the Heat'' gives us boxing as an all-purpose metaphor - its characters circling, feinting and bobbing around their desires, yet punching them away at the same time.

It's a vivid, if somewhat too simple context for playwright Oliver Mayer's examination of prejudice and its affect on sexual, social and ethnic identity. He goes glove to glove with homophobia, racism and sexism, and at times in the play's West Coast premiere at the Mark Taper Forum, he treats us to a thrilling bout.

Be forewarned, however: Mayer and director Ron Link set out to push viewers' buttons - pummel them, in fact.Exploring boxing's sexy, homoerotic nature, they present shockingly graphic, yet surprisingly beautiful images. They confound expectations, flout stereotypes and test taboos, putting us in the uncomfortable position of confronting our own intolerance.

It's bound to outrage some viewers, exhilarate others and inspire a mixture of both in most everybody else.

Mayer himself boxed as a teen in Studio City, where he still lives. He knows the sport, and it shows in his play, which debuted to mixed reviews in a 1994 production by the New York Shakespeare Festival.

He sets his story in Los Angeles' venerable boxing community in 1959. His characters are mostly Latino and African-American - many of them of mixed heritage, which presents them with their first set of identity issues.Layered on top of that are sexual issues, which arise when boxing champ Mantequilla Decima loses his title to challenger Pedro Quinn, who just can't stop smiling, even in the midst of grueling punishment. Allegations of homosexuality surface, fueled by the reckless, attention-grabbing tactics of another challenger, Wilfred Vinal.

Suddenly faced with the issue, Decima begins to question his sexuality. So, too, does the shy, unassuming new champ, who hangs out with a singer-impersonator named Garnet, hoping their friendship turns into something more.

Mayer deals with potentially explosive material by using boxing as a metaphor for internalized homophobia - for wanting something, yet feeling you must be beaten up for wanting it. And he gets a bit heavy-handed with his symbolism as he indicates that Garnet, who impersonates such singing sensations as Jackie Wilson and James Brown, is an ``impersonator'' of another sort - forced by 1950s morality to hide his sexuality behind a facade.

The most questionable choice occurs in a dream sequence in which two boxers' sparring turns into a graphic sex act.

For the most part, however, the fight sequences are chillingly, thrillingly staged by Link and fight choreographer Michael Olajide Jr.

Each fight has its own mood. The first, between Decima and Quinn, is almost balletic, with the fighters gracefully circling each other. The next, between Decima and Vinal, is grittier, as Vinal taunts his opponent with showy jabbing, dodging and footwork. And the final fight, a rematch between Decima and Quinn, is flinchingly brutal, with water and sweat flying off the fighters' bodies as they endure blow after punishing blow.

To heighten excitement, three drummers are stationed on a balcony of the sparring gym/boxing ring, their percussion building to a frenzy as the boxers' fists become blurs of fury.

The performances are great, particularly Ray Oriel as the shy, quietly yearning Quinn, Dominic Hoffman as the tortured Decima, Raymond Cruz as the grandstanding Vinal and Hassan El-Amin as the suave Garnet.

The production as a whole doesn't quite work, but it goes down fighting.

THE FACTS The show: ``Blade to the Heat.''

Where: Mark Taper Forum, Los Angeles Music Center, 135 N. Grand Ave., downtown.

When: 8 p.m. Tuesdays through Fridays, 2:30 and 8 p.m. Saturdays, 2:30 and 7:30 p.m. Sundays; through May 5.

Running time: One hour, 45 minutes; no intermission.

Tickets: $28 to $35.50, available through Ticketmaster, [phone].

Our rating: Three Stars.