‘More’? Actually, a bit less, please

As she frankly admits in her solo show “More” at the Falcon, Yeardley Smith has always wanted “more” -- more from her family, more from her personal relationships but, most pressingly and pointedly, more from her acting career, a source of obsessive preoccupation throughout her life.

Smith (and don’t mispronounce her name. It’s Yard-ley) had a long Broadway run in Tom Stoppard’s “The Real Thing” while she was still in her teens and soon scored a starring role in the cult series “Herman’s Head.” However, it was when she was cast as the voice of Lisa Simpson on the animated series “The Simpsons,” now in its 17th season and still going strong, that Smith entered the realm of television legend.

One of the steadiest gigs in a notably itinerant industry, the role, by all reports, earns Smith several million dollars a season. By most logical and objective measures, Smith has been a resounding success. It’s by her own impossibly exacting standards that she falls short.

Cheerfully admitting that she suffers from a lifelong “personality disorder,” Smith spends the bulk of the evening detailing her perceived failures, both private and professional. That dubious premise, Smith’s off-kilter perceptions of her own unworthiness, is ultimately undermined by the faint but redolent whiff of the self-congratulatory.

Smith is most gripping when she recounts the painful breakup of her family, her own romantic travails and, most particularly, her long and painful struggle with bulimia -- a comprehensive how-to primer on the disease that is not for the faint of heart or stomach. But her recapitulation of every single beat of her professional life, from obscure film roles to botched auditions, is so belabored that she might as well be reading from her resume. And, in light of the fact that she is so perennially and gainfully employed, Smith’s bitter complaints about her career seem strikingly whiny.

Director Judith Ivey, a Tony-winning actress in her own right (“Steaming,” “Hurlyburly”), initially staged “More” off-Broadway and again officiates over this West Coast premiere. By all accounts, the show has been trimmed and streamlined in the interim, as evidenced by Ivey’s locomotive pacing, which never falters. Neither does Smith’s performance. Elfin in appearance and squeaky in voice, Smith is an authoritative stage presence who, despite the obvious deficits in her material, is eminently watchable throughout.

Keith E. Mitchell’s metaphorically apt scenic design features a central set-piece of watermelon-colorful stairs. Near the top step hangs a big silver star, almost out of reach. Jeremy Pivnick’s keen lighting and Robert Ramirez’s sound are also faultless and fitting, integral elements in this visually handsome production.

Smith isn’t the first “Simpsons” star to dive into the solo show genre. A decade or so ago, Nancy Cartwright, the voice of Bart, performed the one-woman “In Search of Fellini” to mixed reviews. More recently, Dan Castellaneta, the voice of Homer, did a perplexingly surreal one-man turn in “Where Did Vincent Van Gogh?”

However, Smith’s outing is the most exhaustively confessional -- and the most problematic. It all boils down to a few simple questions. Is Smith’s own life, however charmingly presented, sufficient fodder for a solo show? Does she shore up her personal reminiscence at long last and dazzle us with some universal truth? The answers are, sadly, no and no.

Through it all -- the binging, the purging, the four-hour-plus exercise jags at the gym -- Smith’s relentless self-absorption never wavers. By play’s end, Smith has achieved lasting love, new self-acceptance and a genuinely sweet gratitude for her many blessings. One suspects that the daily discipline of punching a time clock might have hastened her epiphany.

*

‘More’

Where: Falcon Theatre, 4252 Riverside Drive, Burbank

When: 8 p.m. Wednesdays through Saturdays, 4 p.m. Sundays

Ends: March 6

Price: $30 to $37.50

Contact: (818) 955-8101

Running time: 1 hour, 40 minutes