Theater Review : ‘Sisters’: Unlikely Family Ties : Wendy Wasserstein’s Study of Siblings Runs Only Skin-Deep

The man who inexplicably falls for the oldest of “The Sisters Rosensweig,” in the play of the same name, sells fake furs for a living. He calls them “synthetic animal protective coverings.”

Although the play is not as fake as the furs--Wendy Wasserstein drew on aspects of her own family when she wrote it--it still feels fairly bogus at the Doolittle Theatre. The characters are synthetic people in synthetic situations. The play’s “protective coverings” are the many wisecracks that Wasserstein can’t resist, no matter how unlikely they may sound at the particular moment.

It’s as if Wasserstein issued a challenge to herself: Throw together a bunch of wildly disparate characters. See how they fight, then see how they bond. Although four of them have Brooklyn Jewish roots, even these four could hardly be less alike. But don’t worry how credible any of it seems--just include enough funny lines, and maybe the audience won’t notice.

Which is not to say that Wasserstein was thinking only of laughs. There is evidence that she was attempting to make a statement about the value of one’s roots in general and the danger of Jewish assimilation in particular. She also addresses the plight of a woman whose bisexual lover leaves her.

But these subjects have been treated more perceptively elsewhere. Indeed, the Doolittle season that’s ending with “Sisters” began with a much more cogent and moving play about Jewish assimilation, “Conversations With My Father”--directed by the same Daniel Sullivan who did “Sisters.” And the previous Doolittle show, “Falsettos,” delivered a funnier, more poignant account of a woman and the gay man who loved her.

Wasserstein’s play is even more reminiscent of “The Three Sisters”--but only because self-conscious, often awkward references to it are scattered throughout. They serve primarily as reminders of how much more cohesive and touching Chekhov’s play is.

The three sisters here are twice-divorced Sara Goode (Mariette Hartley), a big macher for the London branch of an Asian bank; never-married Pfeni Rosensweig (Joan McMurtrey), a globe-trotting journalist; and very-married Gorgeous Teitelbaum (Caroline Aaron), who’s “Dr. Gorgeous,” a pop psychologist on Boston radio.

They’ve gathered at Sara’s stately townhouse in London to observe Sara’s 54th birthday. Wasserstein immediately paints their contrasting personalities in primary colors. At one point they discuss who’s being “too obvious,” but actually this could be said about nearly everyone in the play.

Sara has adopted a quasi-English accent and tends to talk to people as if life were one long job interview. Indeed, her regular male escort (Ian Stuart), an aristocratic twit, is more of a professional convenience than a personal interest. Naturally, her daughter Tess (Debra Eisenstadt) rebels and contemplates running off to newly liberated Lithuania with her boyfriend Tom (Barry McEvoy)--that’s where his roots are.

Hartley has shifted her posture into high rigidity to portray Sara, and her voice is sharply commanding. But she hasn’t forgotten that sly smile she used so well in her commercials, and it, too, fits Sara, for she’s not as humorless as her humorless daughter says she is.

Hartley’s accomplished performance takes this play deeper than anyone else on stage, but she still can’t make us believe that Sara would allow a complete stranger, the furrier Mervyn Kant (Charles Cioffi), to make a beeline for her bedroom within hours after meeting her. Nor can Cioffi convince us that he would behave this way with this particular woman, who has all the come-hither qualities of a martinet. He doesn’t seem all that desperate.

Aaron’s Gorgeous gets most of the laughs in the play, because her character is, by and large, a cartoon, no more dimensional than Linda Richman on “Saturday Night Live.” In an interview in the program, Wasserstein said a man would have written Gorgeous as “a cliche”--as if she isn’t one now.

As Pfeni, recently turned 40, McMurtrey is saddled with yet another unlikely relationship--with a bisexual theater director (Richard Frank). Frank pushes the gay stereotype so far that Pfeni seems ridiculously naive to hope for a satisfying love life with him--this, from a woman who ought to be the worldliest of the sisters. She consoles herself with a renewed interest in writing about important subjects. Yeah, sure.

Or, to quote one of Gorgeous’ favorite phrases, “Pish, pish.”

* “The Sisters Rosensweig,” Doolittle Theatre, 1615 N. Vine St., Hollywood. Tuesdays-Saturdays, 8 p.m., Saturday-Sunday matinees, 2 p.m.; Sundays, 7 p.m., through Aug. 7; Thursdays, 2 p.m., Aug. 11-Sept. 15. Ends Sept. 18. $15-$46. (213) 365-3500 or (714) 740-2000. Running time: 3 hours.

Mariette Hartley: Sara Goode

Caroline Aaron: Gorgeous Teitelbaum

Joan McMurtrey: Pfeni Rosensweig

Charles Cioffi: Mervyn Kant

Debra Eisenstadt: Tess Goode

Richard Frank: Geoffrey Duncan

Barry McEvoy: Tom Valiunus

Ian Stuart: Nicholas Pym

Center Theatre Group/Ahmanson Theatre presents the Lincoln Center Theater production of Wendy Wasserstein’s play. Directed by Daniel Sullivan. Sets John Lee Beatty. Costumes Jane Greenwood. Lights Pat Collins. Sound Guy Sherman/Aural Fixation. Production stage manager John Vivian.