When U.S. destinies are made manifest

Jon Robin Baitz sees America as a nation in denial. In his new play “The Paris Letter,” he focuses on two areas of delusionary behavior: sex and money.

He unifies these attention-grabbing themes in the same powerful character, a money manager -- magnificently portrayed by Ron Rifkin -- who tries to maintain as much obsessive control over his own sexual nature as he does over his clients’ fortunes.

The man trips. The play triumphs.

More than any other Baitz play seen in Los Angeles, this one fully fleshes out the playwright’s thoughts. Staged by Michael Morris at the Kirk Douglas Theatre in Culver City, “The Paris Letter” is Baitz at his best.

It’s about 10 times more engaging than “Ten Unknowns,” the pallid Baitz play presented at the Mark Taper Forum in early 2003. Two Baitz plays in the ‘90s at the Taper, “The Substance of Fire” and “Three Hotels” were intriguing, but each felt shackled by a restrictive structure.

With “The Paris Letter,” Baitz overcomes his tendency to step on the brakes too soon. This is a big play, with three acts and nearly three hours, covering four decades with a fragmented chronology that might momentarily confuse. But this is one of those occasions when more is more -- nothing seems repetitive or unduly discursive.

If Baitz’s work has sometimes seemed too controlled, that’s also true for the life of his central character Sandy Sonenberg. Sandy overcame his initial aversion to taking over his father’s business -- shepherding the investments of a group of Jewish immigrants who came to mid-century America. He made a lot of money, so he eventually adjusted to his career.

His sexual interests, however, were more passionate. In the winter of 1962-63, fresh out of Princeton, Sandy had a torrid affair with a dashing young bistro owner, Anton Kilgallen. But he felt such guilt that he finally forced himself to reject homosexuality, through years of costly therapy with the famous Dr. Moritz Schiffman. Eventually he married the celebrated chef Katie Arlen, and he tried, unsuccessfully, to become a father figure to her son.

Sandy and Katie were introduced by their mutual friend Anton, and Katie is aware of her husband’s earlier proclivities. But for years, all seems quiet on the sexual front.

As the century draws to a close, however, Sandy meets a young fellow money manager, Burt Sarris, who kindles long-suppressed desires -- both sexual and professional. Burt not only challenges Sandy to do something tangibly good with his money, but he looks awfully good to Sandy as he says it. Soon Sandy is dangerously mixing business with pleasure -- and at the worst possible time, as the market boom begins to go bust.

Baitz opens the play with a violent scene that depicts the final breakup of Sandy and Burt. It’s reasonable to wonder if he’s giving away the ending of the play too soon. But as he goes back and delves into what led Sandy to that point, the delving is fascinating.

Most of the second act takes place in the ‘60s, with four of the five cast members appearing as different characters.

Soon after the third act begins, we learn that we haven’t seen the ending after all. Baitz has another couple of plot twists waiting. He should ignore anyone who finds this third-act plotting too manipulative. It provides the sort of theatrical frisson that was missing from much of his earlier work.

The play’s structure allows most of the actors to shine in two roles. Ron Rifkin, a veteran of Baitz’s plays, is a tiger as he embodies the older Sandy’s battle with his impulses. He makes it clear that Sandy’s love for his wife isn’t counterfeit. Then he provides some of the play’s comic relief as the fervent gay-converting psychiatrist.

Neil Patrick Harris plays young Anton in the ‘60s and Burt in the turn-of-the-21st century. The double casting helps motivate Sandy’s infatuation with Burt -- who looks so much like his first crush. Yet Harris delineates the two men’s mannerisms enough to establish that they are, in fact, different men.

Josh Radnor moves adeptly from the older Sandy’s stepson to the young Sandy himself. Patricia Wettig transforms from the touchingly open Katie to Sandy’s more hardened mother in the ‘60s, whose determination to go on “dates” with her son help the psychiatrist make his point about smothering mothers.

Lawrence Pressman has only one role, the older Anton, but it’s the play’s most surprising. This audience-friendly fussbudget, who’s also the direct-address narrator, becomes much more than an observer. Pressman pulls it off with aplomb.

Michael Brown’s set probably isn’t as detailed as the off-Broadway set will be next year in New York (under a different director, Doug Hughes, and perhaps with a different cast), but Christopher Akerlind’s lighting helps distinguish various locales. Like most of Baitz’s plays, “The Paris Letter” is about words more than images. This time the words add up to something extraordinary -- a compelling tale that asks a distracted society to wake up.

*

‘The Paris Letter’

Where: Kirk Douglas Theatre, 9820 Washington Blvd., Culver City

When: 8 p.m. Tuesdays through Saturdays and Dec. 20; 2 p.m. on selected Wednesdays, Saturdays, Sundays and Dec. 23; 7 p.m. Sundays. Dark Dec. 24-25.

Ends: Jan. 2

Price: $19 to $40

Contact: (213) 628-2772 or www.KirkDouglasTheatre.org

Running Time: 2 hours, 55 minutes

Ron Rifkin...Sandy Sonenberg/ Dr. Schiffman

Neil Patrick Harris...Burt Sarris/ Young Anton

Lawrence Pressman...Anton

Josh Radnor...Sam Arlen/ Young Sandy

Patricia Wettig...Katie Arlen/ Lillian Sonenberg

By Jon Robin Baitz. Director Michael Morris. Set by Michael Brown. Costumes by Alex Jaeger. Lighting by Christopher Akerlind. Sound by Adam Phalen. Music by Nathan Wang. Production stage manager Lisa J. Snodgrass.