What’s said in the foyer stays in the foyer. Ah, if only it were that easy. In the self-contained world of Kenneth Lonergan’s 2001 play “Lobby Hero,” information leaked in slippery confidence can quickly compromise nearly every character foolish or bored or desperate enough to reveal it. Because, in the dead of night in the lobby of a Manhattan high-rise, an average guy is the keeper of everybody’s secrets, and he has nothing to do but talk.
This is the premise of Lonergan’s contemporary classic, whose layered themes are dexterously explored in a riveting new production by Palm Beach Dramaworks. Originally scheduled for the dark COVID year of 2020, the show is well worth the wait, its heady mix of ideas—from corruption and sexism in policing to the racial gap in criminal prosecution—delivered with sharp humor and in relatable language, without fuss or pretense.
Jeff (Britt Gordon Michael) is the glue binding everyone together. A laid-back 27-year-old security guard working the night shift at a New York apartment building, he’s trying to rebuild his life after a somewhat checkered past—dishonorably discharged for drug use after three years in the Navy, issues involving gambling and prostitution. But he has plenty of potential, he’s told again and again; he’s a couple of airport books away from discovering his purpose.
One of his cheerleaders, albeit in the form of tough love, is his strict supervisor William, electrically played by Jovon Jacobs in a way that alternately suggests scolding parent, drill sergeant and self-help guru. William is agitated when we first meet him, and for good reason: His ne’er-do-well brother has just been arrested in connection with a murder, and William has been asked to corroborate a false alibi to protect him.
Like the rest of the quartet of “Lobby Hero,” William talks too much, turning Jeff into an accessory to a crime, lest he blab to the pair of police officers who frequent his building: Bill (Tim Altmeyer), a veteran cop who routinely abuses his position of authority, and Dawn (Elisabeth Yancey), his rookie partner, three months on the job, whose personal relationship with Bill assumes its own criminal undertone during the course of the play.
J. Barry Lewis directs the action with trademark invisibility, with minor details that speak volumes toward achieving a lived-in verisimilitude, including multiple instances of overlapping dialogue when the intensity ratchets up. The actors’ body language is a continuous master class in this subtle art: Note the way in which the marvelously understated Michael, as Jeff, nearly takes a pratfall off his wheeled office chair when Dawn casually reveals that she has an interest in him—or the way he backs away in retreat when it becomes apparent that he has said too much to a police officer.
Unless he needs them to issue a threat, Altmeyer’s Bill positions his hands near his crotch as a default reminder of the power he wields in the testosteronal world of law enforcement. As the most unambiguous villain in an otherwise ambiguous play, Altmeyer is nothing short of dazzling as he muscles his way through every conversation—the corrosive loudmouth at the local bar who is granted immunity by his uniform.
You may find yourself sympathizing with the other three characters at various points throughout “Lobby Hero,” imagining how you would handle scenarios in which there are no good options. The fundamental humanity embedded in this first-rate production will inspire you to explore them all.
“Lobby Hero” runs through Oct. 29 at Palm Beach Dramaworks, 201 Clematis St., West Palm Beach. Tickets cost $84. Call 561/514-4042 or visit palmbeachdramaworks.org.
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