Basking in 'Theories of the Sun'

Kathleen Akerley has a juicy hook for her lyrical, melancholy new drama, "Theories of the Sun": Tennessee Williams and Tom Stoppard have starring roles.

The great playwrights, lounging in a French hotel in 1963, are terrific tone-setters for the fanciful show, which obviously toys with realism in ways that would be familiar to the Williams of "Camino Real" and the Stoppard of "Travesties": History is flexible and things aren't what they seem.

The center of this play, opening at Catholic University's Callan Theatre, is an American woman and her daughter, who stay at the hotel after they arrive in France for a medical consultation. Something is profoundly wrong with one of the ladies, so they are consulting a noted oddball endocrinologist who sniffs his patients furiously and speaks English rather like Inspector Clouseau.

When Dr. Giraud is not doing his ludicrous work, a suave gray figure named Mr. Asher regales one of the women, Elizabeth Sweeny (played by Abby Wood) with scholarly myths about the sun, intriguing folk tales explaining its fiery flight and disturbing disappearance. These stories are often accompanied by the ensemble's strange ritual actions, sudden trancelike patterns designed to evoke the cosmic awe and bafflement of life and its end.

A lot is going on, and the first hour is verbally florid and dramatically oblique (shades of Stoppard, no?). But playwright Akerley, who co-directs with Jonathon Church and also plays Barbara Sweeny -- did we mention that the low-budget show is produced by her company, Longacre Lea? -- finds her voice once the women's secret and the large theme of death are out in the open.

Akerley writes some lovely speeches that you want to lean into, especially when the women are speaking; if Stoppard, Williams and the general tenor of magic realism capture your head, the ladies affect your heart. As Barbara, Akerley is touching and understated, and while Wood seems a little too one-dimensional as the fretful Elizabeth, it's to both performers' credit that it's easy to switch your faith in which of them is older.

Stoppard and Williams give "Theories" a ready-made heightened sense of possibility, and Akerley makes fair use of their personalities (the puzzler and the poet) and the dashing atmosphere that swirls around them. Williams is the more dominant presence, with Michael Glenn giving a particularly enjoyable, outsize performance as the drawling, sentimental yet emotionally ruthless writer. Stoppard is less aggressive, but Akerley pens appropriately sly lines for this joshing figure, wryly played by the lanky Dylan Pinter.

Jason Lott supplies plenty of whimsy as the quirky French medic, and Jason Stiles is pleasantly bemused as a dapper American with a subtle kinship to Michael John Casey's otherworldly Mr. Asher (go back three spaces if Asher's true identity still eludes you). For an extra dash of mid-20th century existential flavor, Daniel Vito Siefring plays the hotel's uncannily prescient proprietor, ready with drinks before the guests even know they're thirsty.

At times the show feels as if it wants to be played lighter and faster (perhaps casting its keynote sadness in higher relief), especially when the focus settles on Elizabeth and her discontents. At more than 2 1/2 hours, one might also argue that "Theories" could be shorter. But plays are meant to be beautiful, not perfect, and more often than not this one has enough well-judged moodiness and linguistic invention to keep its mysteries alive.

Theories of the Sun, by Kathleen Akerley. Directed by Kathleen Akerley and Jonathon Church. Scenic design, Hannah J. Crowell; costumes, Gail Stewart Beach; lights, John Burkland; choreography, Heather Haney; sound design, Neil McFadden. Through Sept. 7 at Catholic University's Callan Theatre, 3801 Harewood Rd. NE. Call 202-460-2188 or visit http://www.longacrelea.org.