Well-Seasoned Greeting

When a postal worker (Andrew S. Barth) on the brink of going postal sneeringly proclaims, “I hate my job; I hate kids,” and then proceeds to gripe about the holiday horrors of the sorting room, you suspect you might be in Grinch territory sans Seussian rhymes.

“The Christmas Letter” at the Copperview Theatre lacks cute characters and pat endings. This is a grittier, sometimes foulmouthed contemplation that, ultimately, supports the seasonal goodwill while raising some uncomfortable questions.

It reads remarkably well, considering it was written as a collective project by Barth, Caleb Humphreys, Randy Irwin, Andrew Kamenetzky, Derek Roche, George Sheldon and Christopher Wojtylko. There’s sentiment, but not the sopping hankie kind. As director, Wojtylko instills a slight edginess to prevent a maudlin mess. He also designed a set that includes a mailbox, two benches, a locked-up newsstand and an out-of-order snack machine. The play begins and ends with grainy holiday home videos, some of which include the seven characters.

Picking up the mail, the postal worker discards an unstamped letter to Santa Claus onto the floor of a small train station. He’s unwittingly connected himself to six strangers and their memories of Santa Claus and Christmas.

A dirt-encrusted, homeless “urban jeweler,” Frankie (Irwin), brings comfort to a football jock, Shane (Humphreys). Shane’s best known for having paralyzed a man in a certain Sunday bowl game in September. He’s angrily conflicted because this tragedy has become his fortune on the talk-show circuit, with a possible book deal in the works. Frankie doesn’t beg; he sells his twisted, colored wire to save up for an old sleeping bag.

A jittery, greasy-haired girl hugging a clean, white teddy bear steals the letter, hoping for something better as she waits for her heroin dealer, nicknamed Santa Claus. A simple-minded boy (Sheldon) who speaks to a photo of his little dog reminds a troubled Father (Wojtylko) of pure-hearted faith.

The formula isn’t original. The less fortunate remind the more fortunate of their blessings; wisdom comes from the disadvantaged. Each mourns the time they lost innocence and ceased to believe in St. Nick.

The twist in this universe is: Santa is real. A disgruntled elf (Roche) is looking for new work, perhaps as a Keebler elf. He grumbles about conditions at the North Pole and his recent demotion to stable elf.

This isn’t a package, neatly wrapped and pretty. But it’s an interesting exploration into the nature of giving and the power one person has to affect another.

BE THERE

“The Christmas Letter,” Copperview Theatre, 1953 Cahuenga Blvd., Hollywood. Dark until Jan. 8, then Fridays-Saturdays, 8 p.m.; Sundays, 2 p.m. Ends Jan. 17. $12-$15. (323) 469-4343. Running time: 1 hour, 30 minutes.