Theatre in Review: someone spectacular (Pershing Square Signature Center)One inconsolable person is a tragedy; six make a comedy pilot. That's the takeaway from someone spectacular, which consistently mines humor, sometimes to its detriment, from some of life's most appalling sorrows. Playwright Domenica Feraud isn't afraid of the toughest subject matter, often pulled from her personal experience. Her previous work, Rinse Repeat, was a classic family drama built around a young woman's eating disorder. This time out, however, her very real gifts as a writer sometimes distract from the subject at hand; someone spectacular is an often-entertaining evening that sometimes feels out of touch with its broken heart. Feraud assembles the members of a grief support group for their weekly meeting, plunging them into uncertainty when Beth, their counselor, doesn't appear. Irritation sets in, followed by mild panic and arguments about how to proceed. To be sure, grief has made them resentful and prone to outbursts: The unhappily married Nelle, mourning her late sister, confides not to her husband but to her cactus plant. Thom, plagued by suicidal thoughts, has scandalized the room by stepping out with other women soon after his wife's death. Lily, a self-described retired actress, retains her sense of the dramatic, incorrectly describing her mother as a murder victim and casually trashing everyone else's tastes in books and theatre. "My mom was the best," she says. "And her death has made me the worst." When someone notes that she isn't that bad, Lily responds with an insult and an F-bomb. As time passes and Beth fails to show up, Feraud maintains a tart, argumentative mood. "Grieving in the summer sucks," Nelle grumbles. "The sun is shining and everyone's tanning on their shitty rooftops, and it feels like a giant 'fuck you' from the universe." The immaculately groomed Evelyn, a survivor of a traumatic childhood, cooly notes that her mother was "bipolar with schizophrenic tendencies. Plus, some Munchausen by proxy for fun." Trying to settle a dispute over who suffers the most, Thom says, "Loss is loss. Twenty years ago, our dog died. It took me fifteen years to even entertain the thought of getting another dog." An incredulous Lily snaps, "But three months to start dating?" The dialogue is seeded with pointed comments about SoulCycle, Grey Gardens, Joe Rogan, and the best-sellers of Colleen Hoover; anyone hoping for Kleenex and a little sympathy had better walk on by. Like her characters, Feraud is gifted -- perhaps too much so -- at deflecting pain with smart, snarky remarks. It's the laughs you're likely to remember, not the struggle to manage the ongoing agony over a loved one's loss. Indeed, it takes time to notice that, for all its strengths, someone spectacular is a vehicle without a motor. Rinse, Repeat generated considerable suspense over the possibility of its heroine, stuck with her dysfunctional family, backsliding into self-destructive behavior. Here, Beth's non-appearance cues a round robin of confessions that threatens to descend into a game of Can You Top This? Hints -- including flickering lights and a pinging noise that could be a heart monitor -- are dropped, suggesting that something strange is afoot, but nothing comes of it. Still, the director Tatiana Pandiani brings the tiny legion of the walking wounded to life with a talented cast. Leading the way is Alison Cimmet as Nelle, bitterly (and often hilariously) convinced that her suffering is unique. Checking her calls, she murmurs "It's my husband. He's been needy lately," before dropping her phone on the floor in utter contempt. She's also an expert at upsetting Jude (Delia Cunningham, both fearful and a tad self-righteous), the group's newest recruit. "You emotionally blackmailed [Eveyln]!" Jude demands. "No one likes a sore loser," murmurs Nelle, smug in triumph. Ana Cruz Kayne's Lily needs only a single word and a deathly stare to wither Nelle for unthinkingly referring to Into the Woods as a film. (She dismisses the latter as "the Disney propaganda where they were too scared to kill Rapunzel because I guess death isn't something Disney cosigns.") As Julian, the group's de facto peacemaker, Shakur Tolliver, amusingly tables the idea of consulting the office's stoner receptionist regarding Beth's whereabouts, muttering, "Last week, his shoes didn't match." Also fine are Gamze Ceylan as the "freakishly intuitive" Evelyn, who unearths a major secret about Jude, and Damian Young's Thom, a natural stoic who can't help stepping on the others' psychological toes. I mean it as the highest praise that the scenic collective dots has created a crushingly dreary office reinforced by Oona Curley's institutional lighting; Siena Zoe Allen's costumes are highly suitable for each character and Mikaal Sulaiman has provided a handful of suggestive sound effects. Everything in someone spectacular is well done, but it remains a staged (if especially rowdy) therapy session, an outburst of emotion with no dramatic arc. The challenge facing everyone -- of continuing with life in the face of catastrophe -- is difficult to address in the format of a relatively brief one-act play; indeed, it's something they will spend their lives working out. They provide a certain brittle entertainment but, after a while, Nelle's comment, that Beth is "a solid B-minus grief counselor," seems to stick. Maybe Beth got tired of her clients and decided to take a break. --David Barbour 
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