I am [not] sure about Albert Innaurato's potential, though most of the critics seem to feel it's unlimited….

Gemini is the better of Innaurato's two works produced in New York this season. That doesn't say much, since the second, Ulysses in Traction, was semidroll trivia, and his teleplay, Verna: USO Girl … was such a mechanical stockpile of romantic clichés that I began to expect a cameo by, or at least a screen credit for, Barbara Cartland. (p. 83)

[Gemini's] artistic merit seems to me dubious….

What follows [Francis's announcement of his sexual dilemma] is a tangled merry-go-round whose outer mechanics Innaurato expertly controls but whose inner life rarely resonates above a guffaw.

Laughs are frequent enough to establish Innaurato as a genuinely gifted comic writer. Grotesquerie is his forte. The best example in Gemini is Herschel, a mountainous teen-ager next door who is "into" Transportation. Herschel is contrived and bizarre—yet believable; more so than most of Innaurato's other grotesques.

The play's exaggerated theatricality, its breathless (and nicely timed) antics and pratfalls, fail to conceal basic flaws in construction. Too often static monologues—awkwardly introduced, insufficiently motivated—are used to fill us in on information Innaurato has been unable to convey in any more integral way. He further interrupts the narrative flow by pausing for show-off turns—some overly cute or irrelevantly literary lines, sometimes an extended "bit" (like an argument between Judith and Francis over IQ testing).

These set pieces and asides do more than disrupt the play's momentum: they create distrust for the playwright's integrity. He seems willing to rob his own characters of coherence in order to get off a quick gag, to risk knocking a scene off-center rather than forgo some circus byplay. The more Innaurato opts for secondary surface effects, the more we begin to wonder if he has any pressing primary purpose. The play's cheap ending confirms all earlier misgivings. (p. 84)