Curses! Why so much profanity on Broadway?

This paper ran a letter from a reader recently that took me by surprise.

A woman wrote that she enjoys the theater very much, but "there is too much profanity in current shows." At first, I assumed she was referring to the crop of adult-content, irreverent, tough-talking shows that swept most of the Tony nominations in this exhilarating and provocative spring season.

That would not have surprised me. I've been waiting for some reaction, from someone, about the raw bushels of casual swearing in "The Book of Mormon," "Jerusalem," "Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo" and -- though the unprintable title would seem to be sufficient warning -- "The ---- With the Hat."

As it turns out, however, the woman had been upset by the language in "Jersey Boys," the 5-year-old mainstream hit about the careers of Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons. She also said she wanted to take her grandson to "Billy Elliot," but was told the "children in the show curse."

It was then I appreciated, in another new way, how hard it must be for producers to decide what material will work for Broadway audiences. If "Jersey Boys" and "Billy Elliot" can offend some sensibilities, how is it possible to sell a season like this new one?

I've always tried to mention when a play or musical has nudity. Theatergoers who don't want to see naked people, or to see naked people in the company of family and friends, should be able to make informed decisions.

But vulgarity hasn't been a subject since David Mamet's poetic Chicago dirty talk got New York's attention in the mid-'70s. With stage nudity and falling chandeliers passé, at least for the moment, it appears that language is the new special effect.

For people who sell theater parties, this season is, as one group-sales specialist diplomatically puts it, a "unique challenge to sell these nontraditional shows to more traditional groups." As Stephanie Lee, president of Group Sales Box Office, continues in plain English, "There aren't many F-bomb free shows" in a season she calls "chockablock with the F-bomb and more. We're all tiptoeing around the words."

In fact, Chris Rock, making his Broadway debut in Stephen Adly Guirgis' thrilling and funny "The ---- With the Hat," says he assumed the title would be changed. "I didn't think for five seconds that would be the title," he told me. "Hey, you can't put it on a bus. Can't put it on a cab. . . . It was my first play, but the one thing I knew more than anybody is that you cannot use ---- as a selling point."

The comedy, which is in love with the language of peculiar locations and whirlwind rhythms, has six Tony nominations, including one for best play. Asked if he thinks the producers regret not changing its name, Rock says, "Right now, it's a better story. But, please . . . "

Lee, who once convinced the producers of "In the Heights" to unofficially introduce "F-bomb free Wednesday matinees" for students, says, "I won't steer our clients to an off-color show if I know they'll be uncomfortable. I'm not sending the Girl Scouts to 'Book of Mormon.' "

"The Book of Mormon," the nonstop raunchy send-up of missionaries by Trey Parker and Matt Stone of "South Park," is the hugely popular musical comedy that, despite dancing on the third rail with religion, just got 14 Tony nominations. "Everyone didn't jump on the bandwagon for the show right away," Lee says, "but, with all the hoopla, now I've got some very traditional groups expressing interest."

"I'm getting requests for the show from people who, frankly, I feel will be shocked by it," says Caryl Goldsmith, who runs her own group sales company. "I do alert them about what the show is and about the rough language, and there are still plenty of people who want to go. So far, we haven't had feedback."

Casey Nicholaw, director of "The Book of Mormon," has his own feedback test. He watches the audience during "Hasa Diga Eebowai," an upbeat faux-African song that loosely translates into "---- you, God."

"Most invariably," he says, "it is a sea of people with their shoulders shaking and doubling over, but with their hands over their mouths. The body language says it all. 'This is so hysterical! I can't believe I'm laughing at this!' "

Ian Rickson, director of "Jerusalem," Jez Butterworth's raucous play about a debauching rebel in rural England, used a similar monitoring technique -- that is, watching "two respectable theatergoing ladies" at the first Wednesday matinee. "Knowing their response would in some way prove how our show would go down, I leant forward. I noticed they were giggling, particularly at the ruder bits of the play. There is something about the play's defiant, alive spirit that is infectious, regardless of age, gender, nationality, and Broadway produces very dynamic, open audiences."

With the rapid closing of "High," people who sell theater parties don't have to explain that Kathleen Turner played a nun who swore like a trucker and was therapist to a drug addict who spent a whole scene naked. But there are still the vulgarian nuns in "Sister Act," who don't swear but who boogie like horny teenagers and sing such gems as "I'm a celibate sister, but I'm hot as a blister."

Given the challenge of this season, Stephanie Lee keeps figuring out new audiences for the new theater. She has sold "The ---- With the Hat," about recovering addicts, to groups associated with Alcoholics Anonymous and other self-help organizations. She has sold "The Book of "Mormon" to summer-associates programs at law firms, "so these cutting-edge types know they're working at a cool law firm."

The woman who wrote to Newsday suggested that Broadway adopt one of the rating systems that movies and TV use. As Broadway diversifies into newer areas of mainstream pop culture, there might be something to be said in favor of a warning guide about adult content, nudity and rough language. But don't ratings systems overgeneralize and steer people from work they might appreciate?

Lee, whose saleswork could be easier with such a system, has a good argument against it. She points to "Bengal Tiger," Rajiv Joseph's provocative and smart play about the Iraq War and war in general. Robin Williams plays the tiger, whose first lines include the word we can't print in the title of the "With the Hat" play."

"I would hate to see a rating about those words," she says, prevent school groups from seeing this "timely, fascinating play and opening up dialogues about its content."

Or, as Caryl Goldsmith so cogently puts it, "How many people can I put into 'Anything Goes'?"