Damn you, Neil LaBute. Damn you for getting your audience caught up in your clever dialogue, your complex, well-drawn characters and compelling plotline, and then making us leave the theatre feeling defeated about the state of humanity.

Then again, it’s what you do, and few do it better. When you see a show by the playwright who brought you In The Company Of Men and The Shape Of Things, among others, you know you’re in for a caustic ride. Fat Pig, now playing at Studio Theatre as part of its LaBute festival, is no exception.

Fat Pig is the story of the romance between Helen (Kate Debelack) and Tom (Tyler Pierce). Tom’s a fairly nice guy with a mediocre personality and a severe lack of backbone. But he’s decent-looking. Helen is vivacious, often confident, and bracingly funny. Plus, she’s fat. Not pleasantly plump, big-boned or any of the niceties – she’s a big girl.

So where does this leave them? The play is less about any sort of physical challenges the couple has to face – Tom is sexually attracted to Helen, and Helen, while not thrilled with her body, is comfortable enough to achieve self-acceptance. It’s more about what society has to say about the couple, personified in the characters of Carter, (Jason Odell Williams), Tom’s shallow co-worker, and Jeannie (Anne Bowles), his shrill ex-girlfriend, and what power their judgment ultimately holds.

Debelack and Pierce have a chemistry to envy – their first encounter in a cafeteria (aided by LaBute’s unadorned language and snappy pace) is nothing short of adorable, their flirting at times bold, at times hesitant. Helen transforms before Tom’s eyes from someone with which to avoid eye contact to an intriguing figure, the memory of which keeps him smiling for the rest of the workday. The actors invest their respective parts with conflicting layers of self-loathing, self-awareness, tenderness and sexual energy. The supporting performances are solid, if a bit archetypical – everyone knows a callow office jerk like Williams and Bowles does well as your standard obsessive, clingy, bordering-on-insane scorned chick.

Studio’s sets are smart, accomplishing a lot with a little – a backdrop indicating a generic office floor is spare, but surprisingly effective, and the same goes for the cafeteria. The costuming for Helen, whether she be in a bathing suit or sleepwear, is often rather revealing, making her weight an undeniable focus point rather than an afterthought, as is appropriate for the play’s purpose.

As for the writing? To put it simply, it grabs you. Humor peppers the dialogue at every turn, and the exchanges between Tom and Helen ring true, whether they be expressing optimism, desire, reservation or resignation. The play’s deflating conclusion may not be a surprise, given the playwright or the circumstances, but the fact that it leaves us as devastated as it does is a testimony to the actors and playwright who trick us into desperately hoping for a happy ending.

Fat Pig runs through Feb. 12 at Studio Theatre. For more information about the LaBute festival, visit the theater’s Web site.