These shows (Menopause the Musical; Respect: A Musical Journey of Women; and The Kids Left. The Dog Died. Now What? to name a few) aren't conventional musicals in the sense that they contain a coherent narrative arc or roles with individuating attributes. Often the characters don't even have names.

Yousicals include a number of songs loosely tied to a broad central idea, like, say, "life changes." Most important, they don't reveal much of anything about the outer world, or, for that matter, the inner world. The yousical's goal is to show you to you, offering a superficial but literal reflection of your experiences (yes, I too went on bad dates; I too was neurotic about the baby monitor) in place of insight or metaphor.

Much like Narcissus, audiences fall in love with seeing themselves under shimmering stage lights, and some viewers - one must assume from the proliferation and financial success of these productions - remain transfixed. My companion insisted we had seen this show already, and by the time it ended we realized why: The first time around, it was called the minutiae of our lives.

I Love You, You're Perfect, Now Change is the genre's granddaddy, having run Off-Broadway approximately forever (OK, from 1997 to 2008). By the standards of its peers, Bristol's effort is positively delightful. It's a fast-paced, lighter-than-air survey of unwaveringly normal heteromance, with only a couple of nonmusical clunker skits. (How's this for a convoluted premise? An over-30 singles-group meeting held at Attica prison. The punch line? "Scared straight . . . to the altar!")

The ensemble cast of Kevin Duda, Greg Mills, Christine Toy Johnson, and Renee Rakelle as Men and Women Numbers 1 and 2 gives distinguishing features to what are essentially interchangeable parts. They are also tuneful and, under Susan Atkinson's direction, energetic, keeping a consistent, affable pulse beating under what is otherwise a mere countdown of songs. And though Roman Tatarowicz's set consists of a bizarrely incongruous pair of proscenium trapezoids that change color according to Ryan O'Gara's lighting whims, Linda Bee Stockton's costumes are an earthy, soothing blend of plums, browns, and blues.

DiPietro has moved on to other long-running populist Off-Broadway fare such as The Toxic Avenger, but this work no doubt will live on through regional tours and small companies hoping to turn an easy buck. And really, can you blame them? These are tough times for both audience and producer, and if it's more comforting to stare into the shiny mirror for a while than to look around and survey the wreckage, then the yousical certainly will have served its purpose.