The Prisoner of Second Avenue

Rarely performed, and apparently for good reason, this Neil Simon piece lacks the verbal pizzazz oft associated with his wittier repartee. A successful New York executive suffers what can best be described as a midlife crisis. Everything from Mel's neighbors to his noisy toilet is driving him over the edge. The downward spiral continues as he loses his job, which pushes him ever closer to the brink of a nervous breakdown. Perhaps a subject of comedy when it premiered in 1971, Mel's dilemma seems more uncomfortable than amusing, most of the time, given the tenor of our modern-day lives.

Still, gloominess could be tempered by a tour de force of frenzied energy. Unfortunately, Frank Dooley's portrayal seems stuck between delivering a smirking laundry list of life's woes and a general wallowing in underwhelmed misery. In short, what usually allows a character to ascend from merely pathetic to comically manic is his staying one step ahead of the audience. Dooley, plagued by stumbled line deliveries, struggles only for individual laughs rather than capitalizing on the snowball effect that Simon's script provides.

Supporting players fare marginally better. As Edna, Mel's loyal spouse, Tara Pitt attempts a mixture of supportive confusion over her husband's inexplicable behavior. At the mercy of Dooley's pacing, their scenes, including the entire first act, offer only brief flashes of what power these scripted interactions contain. Completing the cast list are Mel's siblings. MarLee Candell, Beverly Hyde, and Kim Garnet are his self-absorbed sisters; the genial Jerry Marble is his perplexed yet loving brother. Displaying an otherwise effective use of his own scenic design, director Phil Miller seems content to glue this trio of women to the living-room furniture for the entirety of their only appearance. Rearranged casting might also have positively altered this production's outcome. Given Marble's amiable Everyman quality, had he and Dooley switched roles, Mel's plight might have invoked sympathy.

Design elements are first-rate, including a balcony full of surprises and composer Patrick Copeland's very cool, original jazz pieces used for scene segues.

Presented by and at the Sierra Madre Playhouse, 87 W. Sierra Madre Blvd., Sierra Madre. Fri.-Sat. 8 p.m., Sun. 2:30 p.m. Aug. 19-Sep. 23. (626) 256-3809. www.sierramadreplayhouse.org.