Normally this showcase piece offers actors the opportunity to shine individually, as well as collectively. Five thirtysomethings occupy a low-rent New York neighborhood bar. Their directionless lives are the fodder for playwright John Patrick Shanley's self-analytically based drama. But figuring out how this edgy and sharply written show winds up, at least in this incarnation, being more caricaturish than character-driven is an exercise in head-scratching futility.
Maybe it's director Marnie Olson's unimaginative staging. Saddled with only two rudely constructed, knee-high tables and some precariously flimsy folding chairs, Olson's blocking runs the gamut from seated ping pong-like conversations through repetitious patterns on up to stand-when-you're-speaking-and-sit-when-you're-not bits. On the other hand it could be the performances, which fall into two basic categories: comatose and cartoonish. Shanley's characters, as penned, lay bare their souls with desperation as the overriding factor. They may clutch tightly to simplistic pipe dreams, but they are not stupid. Olson's cast has its lines down, yet Shanley's deeper intentions are sacrificed on the altar of comfortable choices.
Kirsten Severson's portrayal of Denise Savage is frenetic, whereas it should be the compelling force behind the show's action. Her monologues—oh, how Shanley loves monologues—seem bereft of through lines. Following closely behind in 1980s dress and teased hair styling is Patricia Nagy as Linda Rotunda, Savage's former schoolmate, a woman now destined for a life of self-doubt and illegitimate child-bearing. Neither comes close to scratching the surface of these hurting individuals; instead they fall prey to the easy laughs garnered through exaggerated Bronx accents.
Secondary characters fare no better. As Linda's oft-straying boyfriend Tony Aronica, Rico Simonini skips the road less traveled in presenting a stereotypical Italian street punk. A touching subplot involving Michael Olifiers and Em Dreiling, playing the establishment's bartender Murk and a semiconscious barfly named April White, respectively, likewise falls dismally flat. And finally, the uncredited scenic designer's bar counter, which Murk sits behind while pulling out everyone's pre-poured drinks like some sort of third-rate magician, looks distractingly like the backside of a miniaturized upright piano.
"Savage in Limbo," presented by and at the Coleman & Smith Artistic Company Theatre, 6902 Santa Monica Blvd., L.A. Wed. 8 p.m. Sept. 29-Indefinite. $15. (310) 313-4275.