Foreign hostages being held in Lebanon have been at the forefront of international news for months. But it's hardly the first time. Lee Blessing's play, written in 1988, was considered relevant then (Time magazine named it play of the year), and several theatre companies nationwide revived it soon after 9/11. Yes, the subject matter of Two Rooms remains so topical that the dialogue doesn't need updating. But, as theatre, it's only partially engaging. The two lead characters are well-crafted and are sharply portrayed in this production. But the two supporting roles are one-dimensional, and the actors do nothing to add texture. Director Jamie Wollrab's direction is, at times, too staccato, though his use of original, live music is inspired, adding emotional depth to what would otherwise be simple blackouts between scenes.
Composer-singer MC Rai opens the 90-minute intermissionless work with one of his several Middle Eastern-style songs, which transitions into the first monologue by Michael (Dominic Hoffman), an American teacher in Lebanon, who has been held for more than a year. Blindfolded and handcuffed, he remains sane by composing letters aloud to his wife, Lainie (Susannah Hall), also a teacher, who has returned to their home near Washington, D.C. To feel closer to her missing husband, Lainie has stripped his home office bare, and she sits on the floor as if in captivity with him. Her only visitors are Ellen (Greta Seacat), a State Department representative, who wants her to keep silent about her husband's plight, and Walker (Caleb Moody), a reporter, who is pushing Lainie to share her outrage at the U.S. government's inability to free Michael. We see Lainie and Michael spiritually share their separate struggles over two years.
Blessing's script is of course deadly serious. Its only fluctuation in tone is from depressed to angry. Michael's monologues are eloquent, and Lainie's suffering feels genuine. But Ellen and Walker are little more than plot devices. We never sense conflict in their motivation, which might have been helped slightly if Wollrab had slowed the pace of their first few scenes. And because Moody and Seacat portray the roles with no hint of affection for Lainie, their occasional utterances of sympathy have no impact. Instead, Ellen and Walker are simply unpleasant. Meanwhile, Hoffman delivers an effective, aching portrayal of a man who deeply loves life and his wife. His performance is nicely matched by Hall, who as Lainie has lost all clarity except when she's focused on her devotion to Michael.
Aaron Jackson's nearly bare set, which consists primarily of a wood-plank platform, and Bosco Flannigan's spare lighting create an atmosphere of despair, which is accented by Rai's often somber music. Despite its problems, the play still offers a lot to think about, though not much of it is optimistic.
Presented by Triptych Theatre and Frantic Redhead at and in association with the Powerhouse Theatre, 3116 Second St., Santa Monica. Thu.-Sat. 8 p.m., Sun. 7 p.m. Sep. 8-30. (310) 396-3680, ext. 7. www.powerhousetheatre.com.
