Theatre in Review: Picked (Vineyard Theatre) Is it possible to be a playwright and yet be afraid of drama? I've asked myself this question more than once when attending plays by Christopher Shinn. A writer with a distinct point of view, he has, in plays such as Where Do We Live, Some People, and Four, created vividly drawn characters who have much to say about the small compromises that erode their souls daily. But his people are often plagued by a fatal passivity that leads to a kind of theatrical drift. More troubling is his apparent insistence on avoiding anything resembling a strong conflict -- the very thing theatre does best. In his pursuit of subtle character revelations and tiny twists of fate, he has at times come perilously close to creating plays that are, dramatically speaking, stillborn. Well, I'm afraid he's finally done it. I went into Picked wondering what it was about. Two hours later, I left the theatre wondering the same thing. The play begins with a meeting between Kevin, a young journeyman actor, and John, a film director of note. The latter has a wildly unorthodox plan tor scripting a science fiction thriller. (It sounds like something out an Ed Wood epic.) He wants to select a lead actor, then subject him to a series of intensive interviews accompanied by brain scans designed to reveal his inner conflicts. Then he wants the actor to play both lead roles -- playing one role looking like himself and the other digitally disguised. The idea of a writer-director stealing thoughts from actors' brains is kind of amusing, but don't expect a single laugh here. This large chunk of information - most of it film theory - is laid out in one of the most un-scintillating expository scenes ever. It's as if Shinn is daring the audience to be bored, in which case, it's the one moment when Picked succeeds magnificently. Kevin happily submits to the brain scans, even when John unhelpfully notes that it's "like being swallowed up by a giant vagina." (John is loaded with vulgar remarks.) He even accepts John's decision to give one of the two lead roles to another actor. It's soon clear, however, that Kevin's naive hopes for the project will be dashed. The film is a solid performer, both critically and at the box office, but it does nothing for his career. His hopes for an Oscar nomination are dashed. A budding friendship with Nick, his co-star, unravels completely. His girlfriend, bored with his self-absorption and worried about her own career, drifts away. He is left jobless, friendless, and loveless. There are, to my mind, two ways of reading Picked, and neither is satisfactory. You can see Kevin as the only honest, open, and truly artistic soul in a jungle of self-promoters. But, as written by Shinn and played by Michael Stahl David, he's so bland it's hard to believe he could get work as an extra. Or perhaps we're meant to see Kevin as a starry-eyed no-talent, chosen for a project that only pretends to say something. (As described by John, it has a reason-versus-emotion plot that sounds like every Star Trek film ever made; you'd hardly need a brain scan for that.) When someone does express interest in casting him, the project is a dumb family comedy about children with imaginary friends. In this interpretation, banality begets banality; talent is irrelevant and Kevin's unwillingness to play the game leaves him permanently disqualified. Neither approach explains why we should care about Kevin or what happens to him. Nor do they explain why, after all these years, New York playwrights are still focused on Hollywood as a city of phonies and compromises the theatre has plenty of both, you know. And they certainly don't explain why Shinn can't make something happen on stage. Under Michael Wilson's direction, the cast is as good as it can be, even if he can't really pace the action or dredge up any drama. Mark Blum handles John's talking jags fairly well, even given the wildly crass things he is occasionally given to say. Liz Stauber has little of interest to do as Kevin's girlfriend. As Nick, Tom Lipinski is saddled with a role that seems to be going somewhere, then more or less vanishes. Donna Hanover makes a couple of solid appearances, as a TV interviewer and a sympathetic casting agent. Rachel Hauck's setting -- a couple of couches on a raised deck surrounded by a transparent Plexiglas floor and backed by walls of perforated metal, is rather elegant, but is almost spoiled by the use of cheap-looking LED units placed under the stage. Russell H. Champa's lighting, Mattie Ullrich's costumes, and Jill BC DuBoff's sound are all perfectly fine. In any event, Picked is fatally afflicted with a feeling of inertia that seems linked to its lead characters passivity. Not for the first time, a Christopher Shinn play ends with a sensitive young man deeply disillusioned and wondering where it all went wrong. We are, I think, meant to feel for him; what I felt was, he'd better wise up and start making some choices.--David Barbour 
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