(L-R) Chris Stezin, Liz Mamana, Kimberly Gilbert and Will Gartshore in Theater J’s production of “The Religion Thing”. Photo by C. Stanley Photography.

Written by local playwright and Helen Hayes Award winner Renee Calarco, The Religion Thing is the inaugural production of Theater J‘s admirable Locally Grown initiative, which aims to adapt the principles of community supported agriculture to theater and the arts. Described as a “comedy about relationships, faith and the fine line between compromise and regret,” perhaps the play’s main weakness is a problem of mismanaged expectations. The key word there is “comedy,” and that is far from what the play delivered.

Unfortunately, the problems go beyond misleading advertising and lie more with a script that is poorly structured and about as subtle as a sledgehammer. What might have been a nuanced and entertaining examination of issues that arise in contemporary relationships is instead a melodrama that would give the average Bollywood film a run for its money. My intellect and soul felt bludgeoned after last night’s performance, leaving what was left of my spirit in some dark corner of the theater, whimpering in the fetal position and sucking its thumb.

The problems with the piece manifest themselves from the very outset. The marginally relevant opening segment, set as a stand-up comedy routine, is likely meant to start the play off with a bang, perhaps even a shock. Instead, it falls completely flat and is the perfect illustration of how good actors don’t necessarily make good comics, and vice-versa. The story itself centers around two white collar, thirty-something couples living in the District. Mo, played by Liz Mamana, was raised Catholic and is now married to the Jewish Brian, played by Chris Stezin. Mo longs to be a mother while Brian is hesitant, largely due to his growing desire to raise a Jewish child. In the opening scenes, the couple finds out that Mo’s best friend, Patti (Kimberly Gilbert), has become a born-again Christian and has married fellow evangelical Jeff (Will Gartshore) after a very brief courtship. We also learn that Jeff sought refuge in the church to “cure” himself of his homosexuality. He has been with men in the past, but he considers his first night with Patti as the moment he lost his virginity, because those men “don’t count.”

Dealing with just one of these conflicts would be a challenge to any playwright, for each merits serious discussion. However, Calarco does not stop there. She throws in subplots involving alcoholism, abortion, infidelity and more. The result is a story that is so heavy handed and weighty that it feels totally contrived. For example, in addition to her already myriad problems, we find out that Patti was also a clerk for Ruth Bader Ginsburg, and that she is leaving a successful law practice to be a stay-at-home-mom (oh yes, she’s also pregnant by her questionably heterosexual husband). No one has the right to pass judgment on her choice, but working for a Supreme Court Justice? Even daytime soap operas would consider that a bridge too far.

The cast does its best with less-than-ideal material. Mamana and Gilbert manage to draw hearty laughs during the few moments of sunlight that peek through the schmaltz. Likewise, Stezin’s Brian brings some levity with his observations of Jewish culture, although even some of those jokes went over the head of anyone who lacked that specific upbringing. In the play’s most effective sequence, Joseph Thornhill appears as a vision in a dream of each main character. For those few minutes, short-lived as they may be, Calarco achieved the blend of comedy and drama she sought. Sadly, after these imaginary episodes, an image popped into my head of a prospector searching for gold. Upon hitting the mother lode, he doesn’t stop to gather his riches, but rather decides inexplicably to keep on digging. Eventually, the mine collapses, burying the miner in his own ambition.

Theater J’s production of The Religion Thing runs at the District of Columbia Jewish Community Center through January 29, 2012. Full schedule and ticketing information is available here. $15-$60.