"The Rose Tattoo," in Boston for a three-week stand after a successful year on Broadway, is, if anything, a testament to the enormous emotional capacity of Tennessee Williams. It is a throbbing, sensuous drama, completely absorbed with the ecstasy of life and of living; unfortunately, however, this is not a theme conducive to a coherent plot or sensible dialogue.

In fact, much of the dialogue is confined to Italian or supposedly expressive animal noises. There is an excuse at least for the former: the play is set in a Gulf Coast village populated largely by Sicilians (all of whom manage to wander on stage at one time or another). One of these immigrants (Maureen Stapleton) is a young widow, pathologically devoted to the memory of her husband. The story revolves around her emergence from a sterile world of false idealism into Williams' "real" world of animal love and passionate emotion. When Serafina Delle Rose's belief in the perfection of her husband is shattered, it is not a tragedy but a victory; it is only then that she can again see her vision of the rose tattoo, Williams' symbol of life and of love.

Miss Stapleton does an excellent job of conveying the transition back to a sentient life; she is alternately wild and spent, never quite understanding the world around her. The object of her renewed affections is played by Eli Wallach, who is adequate in his clownish impersonation of the Marlon Brando-type lover.

There is a subplot to "The Rose Tattoo" which deals with the vicissitudes of young love, largely for the purpose of dramatic irony. Sally Hester and Dan Hunter interpret these scenes with tenderness and perception.

The set by Boris Aronson effectively catches the mood of the play, though the lack of any partition between the street and the interior of the house is at times confusing. Director Daniel Mann does admirably with a script which calls only for various levels of emotional acting. It is unfortunate that a playwright of Tennessee Williams' stature should confine himself to one aspect of life so exclusively that he fails to achieve even a semblance of true realism.