The last time Philip Seymour Hoffman teamed up with playwright Bob Glaudini, they scored an unlikely hit with 2007’s “Jack Goes Boating” — an affectionate depiction of so-called losers looking for love.
Hoffman went on to star in and direct the movie version of “Jack,” but he’s just behind the scenes in Glaudini’s newest play, “A Family for All Occasions.”
This time they’ve ramped up the miserabilist naturalism even further — though the show turns out to be a rare, surprisingly affecting combo of bleak and heartwarming.
A claustrophobic feeling weighs over the proceedings, which take place in a shabby living room, with stairs, doors and a hallway suggesting the rest of the house. Because of the Bank Street Theater’s seating arrangements, parts of David Meyer’s ingenious set are blocked from some audience members’ view. This is a blessing in disguise — unlike some lucky customers, I couldn’t see a slovenly character (seemingly) pee.
There are no middle-class comforts here: Glaudini is among the few writers to cast the spotlight on those who grind it out. Here, he and Hoffman have handed over one of those hard-luck types to the wonderful character actor Jeffrey DeMunn (Dale on “The Walking Dead”).
A retired electrician who tinkers with old lamps at home, DeMunn’s Howard is less active than reactive, and a total pushover. His overworked wife, May (the tart Deirdre O’Connell), grunts at him, too tired to make conversation.
His teenage son, Sam (Charlie Saxton), is a sullen slob who spends hours designing a new video game. Daughter Sue (Justine Lupe), not much older than Sam, comes and goes at odd hours, usually in a micro-skirt.
Change barges in with the arrival of Oz (William Jackson Harper), a young black man who turns a brief encounter with Sue into a relationship — at least on his end.
Like the set and its blind spots, the play leaves a few stones unturned, most notably with its women. The Mike Leigh of “Life Is Sweet” and “High Hopes,” whose influence looms large over the show, would have dug deeper with May and Sue.
This is especially frustrating in May’s case, since O’Connell is such an evocative performer. When she tries out the foot-massager Oz brought her, the look on her face and the way she curtly says, “OK” and “Oh, oh,” speak volumes.
But Glaudini makes up for those problems by foiling expectations. Sam, for starters, recoils from physical contact in a way that’s borderline pathological. And he may actually be as smart as he says he is.
The most interesting connection is the one between Oz and Howard, who’s won over when Oz drops the obscure “malefic” in a sentence.
Howard is impressed: “Words are a hobby of mine,” he explains.
DeMunn may just break your heart as this quiet, lonely man, trying to make the best of the crummy hands he’s dealt. When a new family member falls into his lap, you can only hope he’ll get it right the second time around.