Orgasm Decathlon Can't Save Apt. 3A

According to Richard Dawkins, science and faith are incompatible. But Jeff Daniels’ play Apartment 3A eschews science for a far more pressing question: Can the liberal, upper-middle-class, NPR-listening set ever find faith and hope in its bleak, Starbucks-addicted existence?

When the story opens, Annie Wilson (Marianna McClellan) is having something of a crisis. She recently walked in on a long-term boyfriend’s impressive gymnastic feats with another woman and has a thankless job as a fundraiser for a local PBS station. Her existence lacks any spiritual drive or religious reason. The answer to her overwhelming problems proves to be a quick decision to change scenery by moving into a brand new apartment. Before long, she finds herself involved in two relationships­—one with a colleague intent on bedding her, and one with a married next-door neighbor intent on staying platonic. Both men bring Annie what she lacks: optimism and a love of life.

If this story is starting to sound a little too sappy, it should be noted that Daniels’ sharp sense of humor keeps the play from deteriorating completely into a religious tract, although it certainly toes this line. Daniels, a talented actor in films such as Dumb and Dumber and The Squid and the Whale, has a couple of plays under his belt, and it shows. There are several laugh-out-loud scenes, such as a pointed threat during an on-air PBS fundraiser to kill Big Bird if more money is not pledged. Other hilarious bits include a detailed discussion about the mating habits of polar bears, a comic theology discussion over lunch, and Annie’s counting off a sense-shattering 10 orgasms during a marathon sex session. While these scenes could have been sickly subversive, the play is infused with an easygoing, gentle Midwestern vibe that keeps the most seemingly outrageous scenes from becoming offensive. New Yorkers accustomed to edgier fare may find it either refreshingly warm and friendly or dull and lacking backbone.

The cast does little to change this impression. As Annie, McClellan puts in an admirable, if slightly unenthusiastic performance. Her Big Bird speech comes off as a lackluster version of Peter Finch’s manic breakdown on live television in the film Network. While a good portion of the audience chuckled, the scene had the potential to be 10 times funnier. Similarly, her second long monologue, a passionate appeal to find the “spirit to truly believe,” fails to be really moving. The idea works on paper, but the execution leaves something to be desired. Jay Rohloff is charming enough as her doting co-worker, Elliot, but has little going for him beyond a vague likability. His awkward attempts to win her heart are cute at first, but become tiresome very quickly.

But at least he isn’t as obnoxious as next-door-neighbor Donald, played by Doug Nyman. Donald is written as a lovably eccentric painter. He’s lonely and looking for a friend, but utterly devoted to his wife, who is in Rome for an indefinite amount of time. Unfortunately, Nyman’s nasal twang and constant harassment of Annie come off as unappealingly creepy, and the audience is left a little confused when Annie begins to fall for him. For some reason, director Owen M. Smith chose to clothe Nyman in a sports coat and orange turtleneck for the entirety of the play. This, in conjunction with a short beard and moustache combo, makes Donald look more like an overachieving member of the Young Conservatives club than a bohemian painter. This is a major flaw in the play—the plot hinges on Annie’s dilemma of having to choose between the two men, and it is hard to see what attracts her to Donald.

As the play reaches its conclusion, Daniels unveils a twist ending that, even if unexpected, is uninspired and more likely to cause groans than shouts of surprise. The play is over-handed, and Daniels, a talented playwright, has crafted a work too concerned with preaching a message of hope and not concerned enough with allowing its characters to breathe and move freely. Annie’s ability to cast aside her cynical atheist viewpoint for an uplifting renewal of faith seems unlikely to have been prompted by a few limp conversations and less-than-inspiring testimonials. The play is entertaining and pretty enough, with a sparse but attractive set complete with plenty of colorful lighting. As a complete package, however, Apartment 3A feels stale. Rather than rush out to the nearest church, the majority of the audience will most likely leave, grab a Starbucks, get in their cars, and listen to NPR, unfazed and unchanged by this theatrical performance.