After examining racism, misogyny, sexual harassment, homophobia, and other dark aspects of modern life, Neil LaBute has turned to religion. In "The Break of Noon," the prolific playwright-filmmaker gives us a twisted morality tale in which one of his typically brutish protagonists hears the voice of God. In earlier work such as "The Shape of Things" and "Reasons to Be Pretty," LaBute wrote complex examinations of life in today's morally ambiguous world. This time, however, it feels as if he's offering shocking images and actions for their own sake.
The play opens with John Smith—a rather obvious name choice for an Everyman—describing to the police an attack on his workplace by a crazed gunman. While the assassin was shooting everyone in sight, John heard a voice he claims to be divine tell him to stay put. He made it out as the sole survivor. Thanks to a picture of the carnage taken on his cell phone and his miraculous story, John rises to fame as a prophet of the Lord's word. But as he attempts to make up for his former selfish ways, there are doubts about the veracity of his claim of divine intervention.
Many of the characters smack of the familiar—the smarmy talk-show host, the skeptical detective, the wronged ex-wife, the secretly innocent hooker—and many of the scenes feel imposed by the author rather than growing organically out of character. The final monologue, in which John reveals the truth of his relationship with the killer, with its intensely frank and unapologetic admission of political incorrectness, is so strikingly similar to climaxes in other LaBute works that it seems formulaic. LaBute has a worthy theme—how do you practice morality in an amoral society?—but the story setup and execution are forced and artificial.
Director Jo Bonney, who collaborated with LaBute on "Fat Pig" and "Some Girl(s)," directs with a broad hand, slamming the audience with Justin Ellington's discordant music, Darron L. West's blaring sound, and David Weiner's blinding lights between her over-the-top staging of the scenes.
In order for the play to work, we have to believe John's conflict between his newfound faith-based altruism and his previous narcissistic urges. David Duchovny fails to convey either compassion or venality but hits the muddling middle. His John doesn't seem to care either way. This TV star makes no strong choices, and his voice is as strained as his acting. The three remaining performers, each playing two roles, fare somewhat better. Amanda Peet is solidly convincing as Ginger, John's estranged spouse, but the actor puts on a stereotypical Nu Yawk accent and tough-broad manner as Ginger's cousin Jesse, with whom John had an affair. It's as if Peet is trying too hard to display the differences between these women, as Elizabeth Montgomery did when playing identical cousins Samantha and Serena on the old "Bewitched" TV show.
The amazing Tracee Chimo, who made such a splash in "Circle Mirror Transformation" and "Bachelorette," finds the humanity in the jaded prostitute Gigi, but she plays a sketch-comedy staple as TV hostess Jenny. John Earl Jelks goes beyond boob-tube genre clichés as a lawyer and a cop. Too bad LaBute didn't do the same.
Presented by MCC Theater and the Geffen Playhouse at the Lucille Lortel Theatre, 121 Christopher St., NYC. Nov. 22–Dec. 22. Schedule varies. (212) 279-4200 or www.ticketcentral.com. Casting by Telsey + Company.