Little of Consequence Unfolds in Thin ‘Murphy Bed’ : David Paterson’s new work is a good if slight step in the right direction for the Grove Theater Center. But the three fine actors can’t plump it enough.

The terrific news for Orange County theater about David Paterson’s “Finger Painting in a Murphy Bed,” at the Grove Theater Center, is that Paterson worked on rewrites with director Kevin Cochran and the cast nearly to opening night.

This is new. Garden Grove has been a place for revivals--not for fresh draft revisions and scripts on which the ink is barely dry. (Indeed, the young company’s only previous production was also new--Cochran’s version of “Dracula.”)

Paterson’s, though, is closer to one’s notion of a new play, and its Bronx setting and New York sensibility even make one think that Garden Grove is New Haven.

That’s in the first few minutes, especially when Jase Draper--as New Yorkish an actor as we’ve seen since Joe Mantello and John Turturro--falls into a collapsing Murphy bed in the living-room set. His character, with the bothersome comic name of Ludlow Smuldanski, has his PJs caught on the bedsprings.

Ludlow is “slow,” like Forrest Gump. Unlike Forrest, though, Ludlow has a seriously developed nasty streak and under no circumstances will allow his sister Myra (Anette Sanders) to date and fall in love. She’s his--until Myra’s date for the evening, Reginald (Briant Wells), begins to show some interest.

That is the sum total of the conflict in “Murphy Bed,” and it’s quite clear that Paterson is going after nothing more than a small, lighter-than-air comedy.

Very early, the play feels slight and glib in a sitcom tradition, and you keep expecting it to gain some weight along the way. It is about nothing more than two people struggling to experience a quality date and is never anything other than a thin one-act straining to become a full-length work.

Paterson has suggested in interviews that Ludlow is the central character. He is certainly the central irritant, but he is neither the one who changes (that’s Myra) nor the one we root for (Myra and Reg), nor the ones who build from start to finish (again, Myra and Reg).

*

Of course, the same thing has been a legitimate complaint about Forrest Gump. Forrest and Ludlow function at a different rhythm, even different language and mind, than many of us. Taken in one aesthetic direction, Forrest becomes a mythic picaresque vehicle on which the American story can play itself out. Taken in another, Ludlow is also a vehicle--in this case, an updated Puck from “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

Which is fine, only it makes no sense. Puck screws up, like Ludlow, but he also makes things happen and makes magic. Ludlow’s simple agenda is the status quo: Myra taking care of him, him doing his finger paintings and no other men allowed. That, and showing off his talent for quoting Shakespeare.

*

In this way, Ludlow is the worst kind of literary conceit--a theatrical name-dropper without portfolio. His personal tragedies, including lost parents, are never directly felt--only indirectly, through Myra. His obnoxious antics are only as cute as Draper makes them, and even here, they are more obnoxious than anything else.

Ludlow’s pathos is nothing compared to Myra’s, as she struggles against her intense self-dislike, expressed by her sniping at Reg at every opportunity. But if this is a myth, Reg is a prince, and eventually Myra will see the light.

The point is that Myra and Reg work at this together; they, and the play, make Ludlow superfluous. She sees that she’s worth pursuing because Reg pursues her. Paterson’s play is about the chase, not about how to cope with a mentally disturbed brother.

While he’s still finding his play, Paterson at least has some very good actors to anchor things. Cochran has worked long enough with this play and cast that his hand is invisible; Sanders, Draper and Wells visibly humanize the often glib, TV-influenced writing (Reg: “(Ludlow) keeps you on your toes.” Myra: “Yeah, well, that’s why I wear flats.”).

*

Sanders stresses the hard shell Myra has grown around her and, wisely, doesn’t let her simply turn into a softy at the end. As the story’s prince, Wells suggests that guilelessness is hard work, that nice guys get that way with experience. Draper enjoys letting us see Ludlow’s mental wheels spinning new schemes and eggs the Puckishness for all its worth.

It’s just not worth that much. Much care went into something so slight, from Mark Klopfenstein’s yellowish apartment to David M. Darwin’s night-into-day lights. We can only imagine what this company would do with not just a new play, but a fresh one.

(BEGIN TEXT OF INFOBOX / INFOGRAPHIC)

* “Finger Painting in a Murphy Bed,” Gem Theatre, 12852 Main St., Garden Grove. Thursday-Saturday, 8 p.m.; Sunday, 7 p.m. Ends April 9. $18.50-$24.50. (714) 741-9550. Running time: 2 hours.

Anette Sanders: Myra

Jase Draper: Ludlow

Briant Wells: Reginald

A Grove Theater Center production of David Paterson’s play. Directed by Kevin Cochran. Set: Mark Klopfenstein. Lights: David M. Darwin. Costumes: Leonard Ogden.