Juniper Productions presents Jessica Bedford's 'Splinter and Crack'

Directed by Harriet Power, the drama puts four strong actors in a situation that lacks stakes. Mary Elizabeth Scallen plays Rosemary, a literary-theory professor living alone in her family home. Daughter Andie (Julianna Zinkel) and son-in-law Craig (Alex Hughes) think she’s a hoarder. Or, in more gentle terms, a “gatherer.”

Not enough stuff

However, Sara Outing’s set design presents a tidy living room with a shiny white floor. Some newspapers are piled in corners and knick-knacks and framed pictures decorate the entrance hallway, but Rosemary’s colorful clutter is nothing compared to my house — and my wife insists we are not hoarders.

Rosemary likewise believes that her stuff, including boxes piled in Andie’s childhood room, is no sign of mental illness. Craig, however, wants to stop bringing their infant to Rosemary’s because it could be dangerous, and Andie agrees. “If I have to be the asshole here,” Craig proclaims, “so be it!” Congrats, Craig, you’re it.

Why can’t Rosemary just visit the kid? She’s conveniently afraid of bridges and tunnels, which is certainly a phobia but not a symptom of mental defect, making it a weak contrivance.

Knowing Rosemary will resist, the couple has hired television therapist Rick (Akeem Davis) to work his slick magic for an hour. Rick spars with Rosemary, but she’s sharp and feisty. When Rosemary deflects Rick’s queries with her own questions, Rick protests, “Don’t do that, that’s my trick.”

Chris Sannino’s sound design sneaks in dialogue echoes and laughter apparently emanating from Rosemary’s memories, plus various foreboding thrums and burbles, as if signaling that beneath Rosemary’s sane and justifiably annoyed persona lurks crippling mental instability. But it’s not in Rosemary’s dialogue or behavior, and we can plainly see that her house just isn’t that bad.

Manipulation nation

The irony of Rick’s TV career is the suggestion that he’s a manipulator seeking easy solutions; that assessment better fits the playwright. Much of the script’s 90 minutes is taken up by Rick and Rosemary’s banter, which plays like a tennis match if one doesn’t much care for tennis: a skillful yet tedious back and forth. There’s something about Rosemary collecting ceramic roses, though none decorate the set. Rosemary wants to keep “my belongings, my home, my life,” and Rick offers nothing better.

The space likewise disappoints. Designer Lily Fossner’s heroic efforts to add lighting to a long, rectangular non-theater space are clever and effective. Some practical lamps rest on the floor and furniture, and some are whimsically attached upside down to the ceiling.

However, the room’s narrowness and the need to move the audience across the stage probably compromised their ability to create clutter. Juniper’s mismatched audience chairs, reminiscent of the Independent Eye’s homey 1990s space, have a comfortable informality that adds to the sense that Rosemary’s house is not dangerous, simply lived-in. Craig, you asshole!

Eventually, the boxes’ contents are revealed — no, not severed heads, as I'd hoped. While a resolution emerges, it hardly feels like progress because none was needed. Scallen, onstage every moment, is convincingly proud and believably fearful, and Zinkel connects with her touchingly at the end. Nonetheless, Splinter and Crack lacks dramatic action, and even talented actors can’t hide that.