Combining elements of the supernatural with psychological drama, Conor McPherson's Shining City contains fascinating scenes and monologues, all skillfully acted and directed, but the play fails to come together as a satisfying whole. This tender ghost story/therapy session arrives on Broadway after hit runs in London and Dublin as part of an unofficial Irish invasion. After more-bombastic works by Martin McDonagh and Brian Friel, Shining City is quieter and subtler. McPherson's characters are as desperate and lonely as McDonagh's cat-loving terrorists in The Lieutenant of Inishmore and Friel's talkative ragtag trio in Faith Healer, but by the evening's end, we don't know the City folk as well. The playwright offers us only fragments of their sad lives. This is intentional on McPherson's part; he employed the same sketchy technique with greater success in The Weir. His recurring theme seems to be that we know only a little about each other, even those we're closest to. But the play left me feeling incomplete and hungry for more.
Set in the Dublin office of Ian (BrÃan F. O'Byrne), a former priest now applying his empathic skills as a therapist, the action ostensibly centers on his client John (Oliver Platt), a recent widower claiming to have seen his late wife in their house. Since the apparition, he has fled his home and taken up residence at a bed and breakfast. John painfully works through issues that his spouse's sudden death left incomplete.
But Ian has as many — if not more — problems as John. He's separated from his lover, Neasa (Martha Plimpton), and their infant daughter. A late-night encounter with a scruffy male hustler (Peter Scanavino) reveals Ian's battle with sexual confusion. All four are compassionately etched by McPherson, but these are delicate watercolors rather than detailed portraits.
The cast and director Robert Falls do their best to fill in the missing spaces. Platt has the showier role, with long speeches detailing John's alienation from his wife and pathetic attempts at connection, first with an attractive acquaintance and then in a seedy brothel. He wisely doesn't overplay these telling moments. O'Byrne has the more difficult tasks of listening to Platt's monologues, interspersing an occasional "okay," and later displaying Ian's repressed passions. He handles both assignments with a brilliant restraint, carefully orchestrating stutters and shaking hands. Plimpton and Scanavino infuse their smaller roles with equal attention to subtext.
Santo Loquasto designed the handsome office set, lit with mood-setting atmosphere by Christopher Akerlind. Falls gives the play the pace and feel of clumsy, uncomfortable real life, with only the slightest hint of the paranormal. There is a smashingly staged climax that comes as a complete surprise but fails to illuminate this Shining City.
Presented by Manhattan Theatre Club by special arrangement with Scott Rudin, Roger Berlind, and Debra Black at the Biltmore Theatre, 261 W. 47th St., NYC. May 9-July 13. Tue.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Wed., Sat., and Sun., 2 p.m. (212) 239-6200, (800) 432-7250, or www.telecharge.com. Casting by Nancy Piccione/David Caparelliotis.