STAGE REVIEW : ‘Breaking Up’ Slender Fare, but Biting : Old Globe: Michael Cristofer’s play highlights the tortuous twists and turns in the breakup of two lovers.

Steve and Alice will never last. But isn’t it fun to witness their decline and fall?

Michael Cristofer’s “Breaking Up,” at the Old Globe’s Cassius Carter Centre Stage, takes great glee in highlighting every tortuous twist and turn in the protracted breakup of two lovers.

It’s slender fare for a full evening in the theater--really a long one-act. But at least Cristofer doesn’t let this duo off the hook, and there’s a bit of bite lurking within the laughter.

In the first scene, Steve (Jeffrey Hayenga) and Alice (Jane Galloway) relate what their romance was like in its early, heady moments, speaking directly to the audience in quick one-liners. If the play wasn’t 6 years old, we might suspect this first scene had been inspired by the currently hot TV series “Grapevine,” which uses a similar technique for even more superficial results.

But unlike “Grapevine,” “Breaking Up” doesn’t add up to a formulaic happy ending. The second scene starts in the middle of a screaming match. The rest of the play illustrates the crumbling of all that fledgling bliss.

There are brief respites from the downhill slide. At one point, the two even decide to get married. But it’s not because they’ve reached a lasting accord. No, they simply hope they’ll end the agony of their ups and downs by going to the altar instead of splitting up.

We must believe in an underlying irresistible attraction, at least once upon a time, if the play is to make much sense--and that initial scene isn’t hefty enough to carry such a burden, all by itself. Some old-fashioned suspension of disbelief is called for here.

But then Cristofer isn’t particularly interested in why this pair got together in the first place, or even in the specific arguments that trigger their many splits. For example, we never do learn what prompted the spat that opens the second scene.

Years later, the two principals still can’t pinpoint exactly what went wrong. But it isn’t for lack of trying. Neither one is the strong, silent, uncommunicative type. As their mutual insecurities repeatedly draw them together, then tear them apart, they verbalize what’s going on.

Yet it’s as if they’re trapped in the surf without a board. They crash into the beach only to be swept back out to sea, again and again. It’s this spectacle that interests--and amuses--Cristofer. And to some extent, we join in his mirth.

The actors help. Hayenga is a master at frantic neurosis. First Steve fears commitment, then he fears growing old without commitment; Hayenga works up a delicious lather in both frames of mind.

Sometimes, his thoughts streak ahead of his voice, so that he splutters half-formed words with the excitement of a kid who’s just learning to talk. But at other times, his tongue functions better than his brain, as when he analyzes the reasons for their mutual anxiety by calling forth Nietzsche and World War I, tiptoeing around any little details that are closer to home.

Alice is marginally more grounded, preferring a cleaner fight. As she tries to dodge the detours that run through Steve’s mind, square-shouldered Galloway is up to the task, commanding a repertoire of insinuating little glances and grimaces that cut to the chase.

Stuart Ross’ staging has the same blocking problems that often afflict the arena configuration of the Cassius Carter. From my vantage point, the most frustrating blocked sight line occurred at the play’s climax, just after Steve had been asking for one more minute of Alice’s time before she walks out the door.

After an intense squabble, made intensely funny by the addition of an innocent suitcase that the two of them grasp as they fight, Alice finally grants Steve his minute, but he is apparently paralyzed with silence for the first time in his life. Unfortunately, Hayenga’s face was visible only to the other half of the audience at this critical moment.

No such problems plague the one dream sequence, in which the twosome imagine a wedding ceremony that reflects their real thoughts rather than pro forma ritual. In this scene, the bed revolves, providing everyone with a good look at the suddenly surreal images.

The design generally isn’t this ambitious, despite a Ross quote in the Old Globe newsletter that makes the look of this show sound almost as vivid as that in “The Two Gentlemen of Verona” next door.

Endings of scenes are punctuated with sudden flashes of light, a gimmick that doesn’t add much and has been used elsewhere. But otherwise Richard Seger’s set and Michael Krass’ costumes for “Breaking Up” are restrained, fairly neutral, clearing the ring so that the boxing match can go forward without distractions.

“Breaking Up,” Cassius Carter Centre Stage, Simon Edison Center, Balboa Park, San Diego. Tuesdays-Sundays, 8 p.m., Saturday-Sunday matinees, 2 p.m. Ends Aug. 23. $21.50-$30. (619) 239-2255. Running time: 1 hour, 40 minutes.

Jeffrey Hayenga Steve

Jane Galloway Alice

An Old Globe Theatre production. By Michael Cristofer. Directed by Stuart Ross. Sets, Richard Seger. Costumes, Michael Krass. Lights, Ashley York Kennedy. Sound, Jeff Ladman. Stage manager, Jerome J. Sheehan.