For most of its 95-minute running time, “Five Models in Ruins, 1981” trudges along in a tonally haphazard manner. And then it abruptly delivers an exclamation mark of a scene.
When the women who have gathered for a magazine shoot and the photographer hired to snap their picture erupt into something out of a Greek tragedy à la “The Bacchae,” Caitlin Saylor Stephens’s new play, with LCT3, jolts to life. Is it earned? Not really. Does it work? Maybe not dramaturgically. But dramatically? Hell yeah.
Up until then, the most interesting part of the show had been watching the always compelling Elizabeth Marvel look intense as Roberta, a shutterbug in androgynous clothes and a bob haircut with one side rakishly pulled behind an ear — the play mentions the 1978 thriller “Eyes of Laura Mars,” about a clairvoyant photographer, but Marvel gives an “Eyes of Lydia Tár” vibe.
Roberta has gathered the models at a dilapidated estate that seems to be in Britain, since at least one character flew to Heathrow. It is superlatively rendered in chiaroscuro decrepitude by the set designer Afsoon Pajoufar and the lighting designer Cha See. Everybody is there to capture what Roberta says will be the cover of Vogue’s October issue. She has a great concept, too: the gowns Princess Diana rejected for her recent wedding. (This echoes a real photo shoot conducted by Deborah Turbeville.)
The whole enterprise feels a little ragtag for what’s supposed to be a prestige assignment. Roberta’s assistant isn’t there, she explains, because she doesn’t like men on set, unless she’s shooting them — but why would she have a male assistant then? This is just a harebrained way to explain why Bobby, as she’s sometimes called, is running around alone. As for the hair-and-makeup person, she was out partying the previous night, and she’s AWOL. Clearly the place doesn’t just look like it’s a “Grey Gardens” annex, it’s run like one as well.
Roberta’s subjects are at different stages of their careers. The wide-eyed Grace (Sarah Marie Rodriguez) is on the first rung of the ladder. Nearer the top is Chrissy (Stella Everett), a blonde alpha who claims to have bedded half of the rock and art-world stars on both American coasts.
Somewhere in between stand the acerbic Alex (Britne Oldford) and Tatiana (Maia Novi, the author of the play “Invasive Species”), whose defining traits are that she’s Russian and deadpan. These two women land many of the best lines, as when Alex, name-dropping a post-structuralist intellectual, says, “Tati, you know I can only handle truth when it’s coming from Julia Kristeva!”
Most of the play consists of the models striking poses in Vasilija Zivanic’s costumes and trading banter — both exaggeratedly arch — while Roberta busies herself moving props and readying her cameras, and jagged post-punk riffs boom between scenes.
Morgan Green’s production certainly looks opulent, in contrast to a threadbare plot that heavily relies on peacocking and petulance. “She just doesn’t have the bone structure!” Chrissy says of Tatiana. “She’s Eastern European,” Alex shoots back, “she’s literally made of bones and structure!” Sandy, a weary latecomer played by Madeline Wise, arrives just in time to add a few blasé bons mots (“Exhaustion makes me genuinely kind”).
But the quips don’t add up to much. Roberta, in particular, remains a cipher throughout much of the show. When we finally learn what was driving her — and what was making her so mopey — one of the revelations comes way too late, while the other feels pedestrian. Having painted herself in a corner, Stephens then goes nuclear. I certainly will remember the explosive ending.
Five Models in Ruins, 1981
Through June 1 at Claire Tow Theater, Manhattan; lct.org.
