I'll come right out and say it. I don't love it.

Because this is a show that believes we should love things not despite their quirks, but because of them, there seems to be an expectation that one should love this show for the same reason.

Yet the quirks, in this case, are more often than not basic flaws in the framework of the story. Sometimes a show is capable of rising above its unimaginative plot. This one, however, is consistently held back by its familiar premise and predictable execution.

The show claims to be a modern, gender-reversed version of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. Should you dare to forget it, the characters' constant repetition of each other's names-Marcy and Austin, for instance (go figure)-is an annoying reminder not only of that fact but also a demonstration that these characters are hopelessly flat. Even if real people were to say the name of the person they were addressing at the beginning of every sentence, they could not act as formulaically as this couple and their equally dysfunctional counterparts, dopey Jeff (David Austin) and number-cruncher Diana (Stephanie D'Abruzzo).

Besides the old adage that opposites attract, there is really no other reason to explain why these couples fall for one another, given their lack of chemistry. The show proves unable to convey the attractions through any means other than exposition. Each comes to the initial blind double date with a unique history of bad relationships. All are in search of the "wrong one" to pass the time with, waiting until the six-month rebound period allotted after a breakup, according to Diana the actuary's ambitious calculations, has passed.

Bohemian photographer Marcy (Farah Alvin) and uptight greeting-card writer Austin (Colin Hanlon) fall for one another despite-because?-their friends warn them that they are not ready to date again since the ends of their last relationships. Meanwhile, those friends develop the ever-enigmatic status of "friends with benefits" and deliver a charming song declaring their pride in this, until of course it becomes impossible to remain just friends.

Joshua Salzman's music, performed by a solid band and sung by a cast of pleasant voices, tries to make the most of Ryan Cunningham's feeble offering. Part of the problem, it seems, is that the show doesn't know if it wants to be like Jason Robert Brown or Avenue Q. At times, the score evokes the emo-esque quality of Brown's songs, but the book clearly wants to prove, and does so unsuccessfully, that it possesses a hip take on dating in New York City.

Scenes in the neighborhood bar or indie coffee shop give little sense of the city's vibrancy and character in how it affects romantic relationships. This is partially because the number of cast members is so sparse; the stage never feels crowded like the sidewalks just outside the Village Theatre. NYC Man (understudied by Barrett Hall) and NYC Woman (Courtney Balan) wryly impart their wise observations from behind the bar, but their genuine efforts appear plastic in a show with little else to complement them.

The atmosphere is not helped by the physical layout of the stage. After roaming through a mini-maze to their seats, the audience finds itself split in two. Both sides face one another, bisected by a long vertical platform. From my vantage point, I saw much more of Alvin's face than I ever saw of Hanlon's, while trying to avoid a crick in the neck.

Adding to the confusion is D'Abruzzo's portrayal of Diana. Her tone and manner of speaking are too reminiscent of her Tony-nominated role as Avenue Q puppet Kate Monster, but it is uncertain whether this is because it is her natural voice or she just doesn't take to the role. Her delivery of "The Actuary Song," which reveals the formula for determining rebound time after the end of a relationship, should be sharp and clever but instead is uninspired and muddles, rather than clarifies, its confusing content.

Indeed, Alvin has a more extensive Broadway resume than her better-known co-star-so why are these otherwise talented actors in such a lackluster show? The only draw seems to be its appeal as a musical romantic comedy. The production opened on Valentine's Day and is, at its best, depicting the awkwardness of first dates and the neuroses that always manage to escape during them.

At its worst, though, the show seems no more sophisticated than a group of unremarkable characters whining about their unconvincing love lives. A harsh assessment, maybe-but if you're looking for a musical with the digestibility and disposability typically monopolized by date flicks, you've come to the right place.