WILLIAM FRIEDKIN'S BASEMENT is a solo(ish) show that's part memoir, part critique of the homoerotic thriller, "Cruising," directed by William Friedkin in 1981 and starring Al Pacino. I first discovered the film at age 14, the summer I went to live with my dad in his small North Dakota town in the hopes I might absorb a "strong, male presence." Instead, I watered lawns all day while my father watched football scrimmages. During a late night bout of bored channel surfing, the small screen of my wood-paneled TV was suddenly filled with male bodies hungrily groping at one another on a hazy dance floor. All at once, my body felt as if a key had been turned. Upstairs my father slept, perhaps dreaming of a son he actually wanted to know, but downstairs, the men in William Friedkin's basement smoldered back at me in their smoke filled club. It was an invitation, a challenge, an introduction to a desire I was just beginning to find language for; I crossed their threshold and haven't looked back since.