The lights come up on a stage that is empty except for two chairs and the men who have spent the last ninety minutes dazzling the audience. As one, we leap to our feet and cheer. Hugh Jackman and Daniel Craig bow to the house, balcony, right, left, center. They look at each other with genuine warmth, glowing with pride at a job well done. The lights dim, and when they return for a second bow, Jackman points to friends in the audience, while for the first time in the evening, Craig breaks out in a huge grin. They wave, they exit, we jam the aisles to leave the theater.

A Steady Rain is a play that lingers in the mind, and when rewound and viewed in reverse, best makes sense. Like the film Memento, it actually starts at the end of the story. We think we know what it’s about in the first few moments. Jackman and Craig do a credible job as two Average Joe Chicago cops bitching about the job. We think that any minute, they may launch into a discussion about “da Bears,” and how the Cubbies always get trounced. They’ve gotten passed over for promotion to detective status three times, while fifty guys who have less seniority and lower test scores, but who just happen to be “ethnic,” have leaped over them. They’re mad, and hell yes, they resent it, but they’re two good guys who are just doing their best On The Job.

There’s been a lot of speculation, much of it in print, as to whether or not this dialogue is really worthy of Broadway, and the steep $125 price tag for an orchestra seat. It could easily be presented in a much smaller house. After all, the set is practically non-existent, and when you get down to it, it’s just two guys talking, sometimes to each other, sometimes out to the audience. Is the Broadway run all about the movie stars? Yes, absolutely, and that’s the point. Jackman and Craig together are like a great tag team, tennis match, tug-of-war. It’s hard to think of an Off-Broadway theater that could contain the magnitude of the emotional give and take which transpires between these two gifted performers.

The writing is deceptively simple. Two boyhood friends, Joey (Craig) and Denny (Jackman), are partners on the beat. They’re longtime pals, and Joey is almost a part of Denny’s family. He’s the lonely, single “brother” who gets invited over to dinner on a regularly basis, largely because he drinks way too much when he’s alone. Denny is a solid family man, with a beautiful wife, great kids, and a warm, cozy home. But from the beginning, something just isn’t right.

In short order, we’re informed that Denny and Joey had frequent fist fights as kids, with Denny the perpetual victor. This is easy to believe; not only does Jackman tower over Craig physically, but the force of personality he exudes clearly overshadows the shorter, quieter man. We wonder at first if Craig, as an actor, is really in the same class as the charismatic Jackman. But what’s introduced almost immediately is the fact that Denny has a violent temper, and no problem unleashing it on someone who is clearly not his physical equal.

The munificence of the frequent fix-ups over family dinners that Denny arranges for his buddy takes a sour turn when we learn that Rhonda, the latest date disaster, is a hooker, who runs into the night weeping. Denny runs after her, while Joey is concerned about Connie, the wife who has fled upstairs in tears.

From this point on, events snowball out of control. Denny and Joey have different takes on the tragic events that follow, each by turns affectionate, disgusted, enraged.

As the evening progresses, Craig’s acting skill becomes more and more obvious. He is a world class listener. All aspiring actors should be required to observe him quietly taking in Denny’s increasing desperation at the realization that he is being sucked down deeper and deeper into the pit of quicksand he himself has created.

Jackman never lets down for a moment. His bravura performance hits emotional peaks and climbs ever higher. Craig wisely doesn’t try to top him; instead, with supreme self assurance, he plays under Jackman, and by the denouement, they are eye to eye.

And we are left with the two mismatched chairs on stage, Craig in his now rumpled suit and Jackman seeming smaller inside his plaid shirt. As the lights go down, we in the audience prepare to cheer.

A Steady Rain
Gerald Schoenfeld Theater (formerly the Plymouth)
236 West 45th Street.
212-239-6200
Orchestra seats, $125
Limited engagement, through December 6, 2009

Michall Jeffers is a longtime theater critic, and active member of Drama Desk, Outer Critics Circle, American Theatre Critics Association, International Association of Theatre Critics, and Dance Critics Association. Her reviews, commentary, and celebrity interviews are read in print and online. Her eponymous cable TV show is syndicated throughout the tri-state area.