There’s a serious “ick” factor at the final roundup of Ensemble Studio Theater’s “34th Marathon of One-Act Plays.” From the elderly gentleman groping his wife’s breasts to a blood-stained sock — you don’t want to know — Series C strains too hard for shock value.
Luckily, there are some saving graces in this edition, which features works by playwrights in all stages of their careers, from 85-year-old Murray Schisgal (“Luv,” “Tootsie”) to young up-and-comers like Jon Kern (“Modern Terrorism”).
Kern’s “Hate the Loser Inside” boasts a tour-de-force comic performance by Brad Bellamy, as a celebrated football coach desperately trying to perform a TV commercial for a kitchen design company. As he flubs take after take, he unleashes a hilarious torrent of ever more colorful expletives.
The program’s highlight is Tommy Smith’s “Zero,” depicting a series of strained exchanges between the officious doorman (Shanga Parker) of an upscale apartment building and a new tenant (Curran Connor). The brief, hilarious vignettes reflect the love-hate relationship between city dwellers and the doormen who often know far more about us than we’d like to admit.
“I’m going to get an STD checkup now,” the tenant acidly says, when the doorman seems unduly interested in the stream of women visiting his apartment. That the tenant’s just dropped a box of condoms in the lobby only adds to his embarrassment.
Less successful is Clare Barron’s “Solar Plexus,” in which a young couple (Bradley Anderson and Diana Ruppe) engage in sexual consciousness-raising exercises led by a woman they’ve met at a party.
“Whenever I walk into a room, people feel good about themselves,” proclaims the so-called expert (Abigail Gampel), whose efforts are briefly interrupted by biological necessity — something that produced more than a few gasps from the audience.
Christopher Sullivan’s “Carry the Zero” had some nice moments in its depiction of a pair of small-town teenagers (Alex Herrald and Megan Tusing) sharing a car ride marked by personal revelations.
But Schisgal’s farcical “Existence” — about an Upper East Side couple gleefully reveling in their financial success, only to have their fortune swept out from under them — was a study in strained absurdism, partially alleviated by Richmond Hoxie and Kristin Griffith’s robust performances.