Alexis Scheer’s new play, “Breaking the Story,” begins with a bang, literally, and features several more before its roughly 80 minutes have expired. The central character, Marina, is a veteran foreign correspondent who clearly suffers from PTSD. We meet her in an unnamed war zone as she tries to report between missile strikes; yet the explosions continue intermittently, as flashbacks, even after she has moved to more peaceful surroundings — a house with a garden at Wellesley, Massachusetts — to ponder early retirement.

Unfortunately, there’s a lot of figurative whimpering between the blasts. Ms. Scheer earned acclaim several years ago with “Our Dear Dead Drug Lord,” another play that carries into an idyllic suburban setting ghosts of terror from abroad; in that work, a group of seemingly privileged teenage girls gathers in a treehouse to summon the ghost of a notorious Colombian cartel leader, Pablo Escobar.

Women are again dominant figures in “Story,” and in this case they tend to evoke generational clichés. Marina, played with credible grit by a “Billions” alumna, Maggie Siff — whose numerous stage credits include a compelling turn in last summer’s off-Broadway production of “Orpheus Descending” — is the deceptively unfussy Generation Xer who, beneath her stoic exterior, is torn between enduring ambition and gnawing regret.

Commiserating with her cameraman and lover, Beau, after their early brush with disaster, she frets that they “made a bad call.” Beau, who’s described in the character listings as “rugged, resourceful, and devil-may-care” — another cliché, that is, though Louis Ozawa’s laid-back performance makes him endearing — counters, “We got a good story,” and Marina retorts, “A story won’t tuck my daughter into bed.”

If her response hints at the glibness that will mar “Story” throughout, there’s at least a good punchline here: Cruz, Marina’s daughter by a former marriage, is 18 years old, and thus the play’s Gen Z representative. Portrayed by a spunky Gabrielle Policano, Cruz has plainly inherited her mom’s pluck, but her own ambitions involve pop stardom; she has a video that’s gone viral — naturally — and she feels entitled to use Marina’s journals as inspiration.

Marina, predictably, hasn’t been the most present parent: The most prominent maternal figure in Nikki’s life has been her godmother, an energetic socialite named Sonia, whose warmth toward loved ones and imperiousness with others are crisply conveyed by a stylish Geneva Carr. A beloved stage and screen mainstay, Julie Halston, also turns up, as Marina’s mother, Gummy, the token Boomer and — gasp — a Republican.

Yet Marina’s most vivid foil, and the character who gives the play its title, is its millennial: Nikki, a rising correspondent who identifies Marina as her mentor and role model — thus establishing herself as the play’s Eve Harrington. Brightly played by Tala Ashe, Nikki is at first all gushing admiration in her exchanges with Marina, but inevitably the two clash, most predictably over the duties and responsibilities a journalist should carry.

In one key exchange, Nikki explains why she turned down an opportunity to interview a subject whose views she finds repugnant. “You’re missing a lot of nuance,” Marina tells her. “It’s our job to tell the whole story, Nikki. Not just the part of the story we agree with. I mean this is why newsrooms are a mess right now, because you think every story has to fortify your echo chamber. But that’s not journalism, that’s activism.” 

All true, but the argument sounds more like a recited editorial than part of an actual conversation. A similarly canned quality can seep into the discussions Marina has with friends and relatives — including a dashing ex-husband, Fed (an affable, polished Matthew Saldívar) — as she tries to determine whether she can ditch her addiction to the adrenaline rush her dangerous job provides and settle into quiet domesticity with Beau, who also seems conflicted. 

Director Jo Bonney sustains a brisk pace, and respective sound and lighting designers Darron L. West and Jeff Croiter keep us on our toes during those periodic trips inside Marina’s tortured mind. Sadly, the dialogue in “Breaking the Story” offers less crackle — and, as its heroine might note, less nuance.