Theater Reviews : ‘After the Fall’: Mind Over Miller : Ambitious Vanguard brings to life a mental landscape of conflict with strong acting, wise direction and the proper mood.

Ambition! Thy name is Vanguard! What other storefront troupe in Orange County could take on Arthur Miller’s “After the Fall” and hope to get it even halfway right?

The revival of this self-lacerating meditation on phony innocence by the Vanguard Theatre Ensemble actually manages to get enough right to compensate for what’s wrong.

Miller wrote a theatrical piece that works more like a montage than a play and has inherent problems never solved by the original 1964 production in New York. So the Vanguard really has taken a big bite.

“After the Fall” requires several things that are in short supply. One is an actor capable of beating his breast for two full acts without haranguing the audience so willfully that it turns against him in self-defense. Another is an actress whose natural beauty is so out-of-this-world that we can at least entertain the notion that she’s a sex goddess on the order of Marilyn Monroe.

There are other requirements, of course, namely a large company of risk-taking actors, a director who understands what he’s after and plenty of luck.

As Quentin, the protagonist who is Miller’s semi-autobiographical stand-in, Michael Allen delivers a creditable portrait of a deeply alienated, twice-divorced lawyer groping his way toward the future through a foul past, his own and that of recent history.

Quentin suffers from what may be the characteristic affliction of the 20th Century: survivor’s guilt. He blames himself not just for escaping the failure of his two marriages but also for evading the unspeakable horror of the Holocaust.

Because “After the Fall” takes place entirely in Quentin’s mind, all of us are privy to his abject self-pity, cynicism and self-reproach. By extension--because he is the mythic Everyman--we, too, are guilty. We’ve all been kicked out of Eden. We’re all branded.

But like every biblical hero who harbors the dream of salvation, Quentin is not without hope, even in the midst of the Red Scare. He wants to smash the false idols within himself.

He says he wants “to be ‘good’ no more! Disguised no more! Afraid no more to show what Quentin is! That decency is murderous! Speak truth, not decency. I curse the whole high administration of fake innocence! I declare it: I am not innocent! Nor good!”

If Allen lacks the world-weary angst of a Marcello Mastroianni (Miller imagined him in the role) or the sophisticated shading of a Jason Robards Jr. (who originated the role), he makes as impassioned a storefront Quentin as you’re likely to find. Allen may falter at times, but what he doesn’t do--and this is key, because he never leaves the stage--is wear out his welcome.

*

Wendy Abbas plays Maggie, Quentin’s second wife, Miller’s obvious stand-in for his own second wife, Marilyn Monroe. Abbas’ work at the Vanguard has been good for some years; she is a dedicated actress. But as Maggie, she has made a breakthrough.

Part of the reason is that she looks exactly right for the role. Abbas has the sort of beauty that often works against her, a face so stunning that it becomes a distraction. This time her face belongs . It is totally in character.

Perhaps freed by that, Abbas draws a bead on Maggie and hits the bull’s-eye with her portrait of a self-destructive, sexually magnetic star who is fragile and vulgar, rugged and sensual, adorable and hateful.

Maggie had no self-esteem before she became famous, and she doesn’t acquire any afterward. Her alluring beauty is not just exploited by others; she has learned to exploit it herself.

Maggie’s paradoxical innocence, rooted in her lack of self-esteem, hinges on the belief that her body is all anyone wants from her. Worse, it is all she feels capable of offering.

Jill Cary Martin plays a third major role with great and necessary warmth. She is Holga, a German archeologist whom Quentin meets after his breakup with Maggie. Holga is the one figure in the play who faces the reality of personal and cosmic guilt head-on without special pleading.

Because the role is oddly underwritten, Martin, who played a fine Elizabeth Proctor in the Vanguard’s revival of “The Crucible,” has the task of breathing life into Holga purely on the strength of her acting. She succeeds admirably.

(It is one of the peculiarities of “After the Fall” that Holga has been given so little dialogue compared with Maggie and Quentin, especially in a play that contains some of Miller’s best writing. When Quentin holds forth, his soliloquies have a Shakespearean ring.)

Director Dan Rosenblatt addresses the play’s large issues without shying from its graphic details. Not to have dealt equally with both would have been dishonest, undermining the essence of “After the Fall.”

Rosenblatt also has stuck with Miller’s uncompromising idea for the scenic design: a primordial cave emblematic of Quentin’s mental state and civilization’s grim track record. It is cement gray, multitiered and topped by a pillar suggesting the entrance to Auschwitz.

“After the Fall” is not often revived because it is such a tough play to bring off. The Vanguard’s ambition in mounting it makes it that much more valuable.

* “After the Fall,” Vanguard Theatre Ensemble, 699 S. State College Blvd . , Fullerton. Thursday-Saturday, 8 p.m., Sunday, 5 p.m. Ends June 10. $12-$14. (714) 526-8007. Running time: 2 hours, 35 minutes.

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Michael Allen: Quentin

Theresa Finamore: Felice

Wendy Abbas: Maggie

Jill Cary Martin: Holga

Ron Baker: Dan

Stuart Eriksen: Father

Joyce Eriksen: Mother

Sophia Lee: Elsie

Cynthia James: Louise

K. Robert Eaton: Lou

Bruce Hart: Mickey

A Vanguard Theatre Ensemble production of a play by Arthur Miller. Directed by Dan Rosenblatt. Producer: Howard Johnston. Scenic designer: Chuck Ketter. Costume designer: Michelle Eden. Lighting designer: John R. Vasquez. Stage manager: Kelly Fullerton.