THE HASTY HEART
Keen Theater Company

If off-Broadway theater were a meal, Keen Company would be the meatloaf. And maybe the potatoes, too. Keeping their heads down in an age of heady irony and formalist experiment, this company actually uses the word “sincere” in their mission statement. Bravely reviving plays from the midcentury, they put decency and valor on stage without the postmodern undercutting we’ve come to expect.

Their most recent offering, “The Hasty Heart,” comes from the pen of John Patrick, whose name is all over the mid-century Broadway marquee. “The Teahouse of the August Moon,” “The World of Suzie Wong” – you have to doff your hat to him. Here Patrick wrote from his experiences in World War II, and seeing soldiers acting heroically on stage provides an almost physical sense of relief. But the topic here isn’t war or violence. Patrick tackles gentler themes, like fellowship and charity, using his wartime setting to illustrate man’s reliance on man.

In a Burmese hospital, men from the Allied forces recuperate under the brisk, compassionate care of their English nurse. Margaret (Emily Donahoe) has to corral the dear, boisterous boys – one each from Australia, New Zealand, England, and America. Yank (Chris Hutchison) has a stutter, but it just seems like a symptom of his bounding eagerness to express himself. Easy with affection and ruddy with health, he seems like our central character.

But when the dour Scots Lachie (heartbreaker Keith Nobbs) enters, the play falls toward him like a system in orbit. Lachie seems well, and believes himself to be well, but Margaret and the ward know he has only weeks to live. Their mission, to befriend and comfort him in his last days, nearly founders on Lachie’s intimidating self-reliance and misanthropy. They persist, and an unexpected gift of a kilt undoes him. In a tumble he discovers friendship and love – one from the men and the latter with Margaret. But when he discovers their motives, his contempt for pity nearly drives him out of their arms.

This is three, maybe five-hanky stuff. The craft of a great weepie – tempering it with humor, teaching with a light, unobtrusive hand – has nearly vanished. Director Jonathan Silverstein matches Patrick, keeping his own touch easy on the throttle. The single false note, struck when Margaret breaks down in tears, alerts us to how beautifully contained the rest of the play has been.

Everyone on board does excellent work, from the lanky Kiwi (a bright-eyed Paul Swinnerton) to the cheerful Digger (Brian Sgambati). Even what could be distractingly un-PC, Blossom the Basuto (I saw understudy Jimonn Cole), sounds instead as a steady chord about home-sickness. The other men have bluster to cover over their pain, but Blossom’s near silence lets him be the raw sound of loneliness.

In Mr. Hutchison, the play has an anchor – his transparency and humor set the tone. But Mr. Nobbs and Ms. Donahoe provide the thrust. With only a few touches, they create flash-lightning. The performance never overreaches, never gets too flashy. With costume (Theresa Squire), lighting (Josh Bradford), and sound (Stefan Jacobs) designers also doing charming, unobtrusive work, the Keen Company again shows us that simply doing “what is required” can be heroic.

MARRIAGE
Pearl Theater

“Marriage” is a comic satire in which no one is free from ridicule; in it, Gogol lampoons not only the institution of marriage, but everyone who participates in its rituals, from the lovers to the rejected suitors to the maids and butlers who serve them. The play has romantic intrigue, scheming relatives, awkward tea parties, slamming doors, and even a rotund gentleman by the name of “Omelet.” But in the new production at the Pearl the elements don’t come together to create the riotous fun they should.

Podkolyosin (Christopher Moore), a lazy, self-satisfied court counselor, is toying with the idea of marriage. So he hires a careerist matchmaker, Fyokla (Carol Schultz), to find him a bride. When his friend, Kochkaryov (Sean McNall), discovers the plan, he intervenes and takes over the job of marrying off Podkolyosin. Kochkaryov successfully scares off a cadre of idiots who come to woo the potential bride, Agafya (Allison Nichols), and succeeds in planting in the two the seeds of love.

Kochkaryov’s motives in this suit are a bit unclear. He has recently been the beneficiary of the matchmaker’s talents, and is now unhappily wed. But is he taking revenge on her by stealing business, or pushing his friend into a doomed marriage because misery loves company? Ms. Schultz fights to pump some air into her lead balloon of a character, and it is tiring to watch; what’s more, she can’t decide if the matchmaker is an old Jewish yenta or Andrew Dice Clay.

While there are a handful of funny moments, the humor degenerates into gags. The many clues by the show’s designers that we are supposed to be enjoying ourselves – cartoonish costumes (complete with fat suits), overstated make-up, sudden bursts of music, light changes that occur in time with the bang of a cane or the slam of a door – merely remind us of what we are missing.

“Marriage” is far from Gogol’s best work (the Pearl has only been able to turn up one other production in New York in the past 160 years). They had a chance with Ms. Nichols, who does her best to bring this play to life, and has a way of putting the other actors at ease every time she steps on stage. But unfortunately, even with this charming and lively performance, Ms. Nichols cannot single-handedly carry the show.

“The Hasty Heart” at Theatre Three until December 18 (311 W. 43rd Street, 212-868-4444).

“Marriage” at Theatre 80 until December 19 (80 St. Marks Place, 212-352-3101).