The Atlantic Theater Company's new season opens (miraculously) without a play by David Mamet; quite the opposite actually, it happens to be the new work by Tom Donaghy (Minutes From The Blue Route, Northeast Local). There are still ties (director Neil Pepe helmed the Atlantic's successful revival of American Buffalo last spring), so while it's nice to see new work being produced with craftsmanship, one wishes this new play had some of the kick Buffalo still has. An uneven work to say the least (though never dull), The Beginning Of August will never be the kind of play people will talk about in five years. It has a certain charm, and its inconsistencies sometimes actually work in its favor, but when all is said and done, it's a hard piece to peg, only not in the way theatergoers often crave. At the very least, though, it returns Oscar-winning actress Mary Steenburgen ("Melvin And Howard") to the stage, where she works far too infrequently. Steenburgen plays Joyce, an Audrey Hepburn-esque widow who has suddenly found herself babysitting for her estranged stepson Jackie (Garret Dillahunt) after his wife Pam (Mary McCann) has suddenly flown the coop. Jackie, an anal-retentive sort whose very presence suggest extreme discomfort, still loves Pam, but can't quite figure out her motivations. Why has she left? Where has she gone? A few futile faxes and endless waiting does not seem to help him. A young housepainter (Jason Ritter) carries a torch for Pam as well, in addition to Ted (Ray Anthony Thomas), a yardman who figures into matters more than everyone is at first aware. The show's first act is enjoyable and jaunty, with Steenburgen fully in her element as the flighty Joyce, suddenly saddled with an infant that she has no idea how to take care of. The play's deadpan rhythms fit nicely with Steenburgen's natural persona, her sing-songy voice often illuminates Donaghy's dry humor (though her best moments usually lie in reactions, a hard thing to pull off sometimes). But then the play deflates as its more "dramatic" elements come into play. What begins as an agreeable comedy of manners becomes an unsteady meditation on responsibility and marriage and is decidedly less fun. This would be perfectly favorable if the transition was made with ease, but the tone changes so often you're unsure how to even categorize it. Is it an absurdist dramedy? Dark comedy? It's a noble move to keep viewers guessing, but doing it right up until the end becomes problematic. Thankfully, the cast weaves well through it, with Dillahunt and Thomas registering strongly (though a development involving their characters doesn't ring true) and Scott Pask's set design creating a welcome feeling of ominousness in its simplicity.
