An excessively late start, covered by pounding, annoying club music led this reviewer to notice only the flaws in the first part of this outing but Fielding Edlows smart script and the fine acting eventually prevailed. Three solipsistic New Yorkers nearing 30 pride themselves on their cynical worldliness while simultaneously hiding their desperate loneliness and fear of intimacy. Liza (Annika Marks) awkwardly uses the most complicated words in conversation, which is ironically laced with the youthful crutch of like several times per sentence. She persists in trying to keep up with those she secretly believes are her intellectual superiors. She is alternately adored and scorned by her near-psychotic lesbian roommate Luna (a delightfully grotesque performance by Robyn Cohen) as well as by her love interest, a narcissistic would-be writer (played with sexual zeal and emotional vacancy by Michael Rubenstone). The three characters spiral down into self-pity, lifted occasionally by some moments of genuine human contact generally shut down by the receiving party. Edlows dialogue bounces between razor-sharp and languid, creating a weird uneasiness. She ends the second act with a character shouting, This is not a Neil LaBute play a remarkable insight, as the play does feel like a female response to LaButes constant woman-baiting. Director Kiff Scholl smartly allows his hand to disappear, giving over the storytelling to the richly textured, sad characters. Lounge Theatre, 6201 Santa Monica Blvd., Hlywd.; Thurs.-Sat., 8 p.m.; (323) 960-7721.
Thursdays-Saturdays, 8 p.m. Starts: Sept. 19. Continues through Oct. 24, 2009
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