There are lots of ways to acquire wounds along life's path, and playwright Julie Marie Myatt has chosen to gather her fictional flock of offbeat characters in a real-life low-desert location called Slab City, the former Marine Barracks Camp Dunlap near Niland, Calif. Long abandoned by the military, it offers a loosely structured community that well suits Myatt's disenfranchised group of walking wounded.
Jenny (Brenda Banda) has returned from Iraq, having lost a leg and with PTSD nightmares that make her afraid to return home to her children and reenter the civilian world. Taciturn and guarded, she hooks up with loquacious Lou (Jennifer Ruckman) at a Los Angeles bus station. Lou's addictions to sex, alcohol, smoking, and gambling drive her to a rootless existence, though she returns again and again to Slab City. Playing a seriously creepy bus-station ticket taker, Maxwell Myers takes a small role and adds a comic touch to the morose proceedings.
Finally at Slab City we meet Buddy (Casey Long), a preacher whose childhood abuse has left him battered and whose tentative liaison with Lou is complicated. As Jenny stays at this way station, she encounters Donald (Brandon Sean Pearson), a truculent loner who abjures society and is as deeply damaged as the rest of the folks there. Lou also takes advice from Cheryl (Karen Webster), a self-styled psychiatrist who is outed by Donald as simply a failed hairdresser.
Shaun Motley's concrete slabs and minimalist set design create a linear plane that adds to the stark existence and solitude of the desert dwellers. Oanh Nguyen's taut direction allows for just the right amount of pathos coupled with wry humor. Anthony Tran's costumes also paint a picture of people on the edge.
The ensemble makes the most of Myatt's stylistic story line, developing sympathy for the circumstances of the lives of people who bear almost insurmountable burdens. Ruckman and Long are particularly memorable, and Banda's enigmatic silence brings other characters into relief.
There are moments when the dialogue takes itself a little too seriously, but examining others' coping strategies makes for thoughtful reflection.
Presented by and at the Chance Theater, 5552 E. La Palma Ave., Anaheim Hills. April 17–May 16. Fri., 8 p.m.; Sat., 3 and 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m. (Exception: Sun., 5 p.m., April 18. Added Thu., 8 p.m., May 13.) (714) 777-3033. www.chancertheater.com.