Olive and the Bitter Herbs is caustic, funny, and inventive without ever sacrificing truthful character observation to the deft deployment of zingers. Dorothy Parker would’ve loved it. She and the immensely talented Charles Busch would’ve had a good old time discussing wit, wisdom, and the snarky underbelly of life at a local watering hole.

As will you.

Olive ( Marcia Jean Kurtz) is an industrial strength sourpuss. She lives alone in a musty, colorless, East Thirties, apartment with innocuous tchotchkes and the kind of furniture gathering dust in thrift shops, and in a state of perpetually high dudgeon. Once a modestly successful actress-known for an extremely popular “Where’s the sausage?!” television commercial, (the author’s homage to actress Clara Peller in 1984’s “Where’s the Beef?!”), she now survives, one surmises, on Social Security and the odd residual. When Wendy (Julie Halston), her helpful, optimistic friend, suggests that Olive is combative, the older woman’s response: “You’re confusing vocal color with anger.” If it wasn’t for the sudden ghostly appearance of Howard (she intuits his name) in a faux antique Sears mirror, nothing would change in Olive’s life but the succession of dreadful schmattas. Wendy finds the mirror curiously imbues her with confidence. Olive is in love with its guest.

Among Olive’s perpetual complaints are those concerning her neighbors, a gay couple who make unendurable noise playing opera until nine o’clock at night and stink up her apartment with the permeating smell of cheese. Wendy invites the calm, classy Robert (David Garrison) and salty Trey (Dan Butler) to meet her friend. (Robert is drawn to the mirror). Conversation is barbed. The doorbell rings. Warm, affable Sylvan (Richard Masur) introduces himself as father of the president of the co-op board. Carol and Olive have had a confrontation over the new “Tuscan villa” lobby décor. Sylvan has come to apologize.

Attempting to enliven conversation, Wendy mentions that Olive is experiencing visitations. It seems that Sylvan’s daughter Carol organizes tours of local Jewish Temples with ghosts and that Trey is both intrigued by the paranormal and feels an affinity with Judaism—one Olive predictably disdains. Still, she allows herself to be railroaded into inviting them all back to share Passover Seder. Discovering the spirit’s name, Trey comments offhandedly he knew a man named Howard once, in Key West. “Howard lived in Key West,” Olive responds, “he was in real estate.” So, it seems, was Trey’s acquaintance. “Oh my God! Howard was my brother!” Wendy exclaims. Black out. End of Act One.

At this point, every player but Sylvan has his or her own motivation for proximity to the mirror. Trey even suggests to Howard (the glass) that he move next door. WHY they are all drawn to the ghost and how he, and unwittingly Olive, have inextricably connected the idiosyncratic group is a kind of really clever, dramatized acrostic. One climactic evening provokes revelations even mystery readers will find surprising and an ending that will raise eyebrows. I have an abiding image of Charles Busch with a table full of file cards relating his characters by intricate repositioning. He’s chuckling.

Marcia Jean Kurtz (Olive) is problematic. When she has dialogue, the actress effectively embodies the pugnacious, self involved, train wreck that is Olive. When she has nothing to say, however, Kurtz shuts down like a robot. There’s no registration of thought or feeling in response to what’s going on in the rest of the room, even, often, when Olive is addressed. Only in a brief, unexpectedly romantic scene with Sylvan does she seem to see anyone else. Perhaps it’s a directorial decision. The end result creates a disconnect.

Julie Halston (Wendy) is easy in her skin on stage. The actress creates a credible foil with little to do until towards the end of the play when an explosive speech makes the audience want to applaud…both the character’s sea change and Halston’s own doozy of a performance.

Dan Butler’s Trey has similarities to his role as Bulldog on the television series, Frasier. He’s brash, crass, and, well, chewy. Butler offers a welcome individuality in the speed of his speech and bluntness of his character’s physicality. Interactions with his mate are especially appealing for the way the two actors bounce off one another.

David Garrison (Robert) remains subdued until the second act when Robert’s sangfroid is given an opportunity to show what’s under the surface. The actor’s focus keeps him present even when observing. His gravitas is believable, his affection for the loose cannon who is his lover rather touching.

Richard Masur offers us a Sylvan composed of unshakeable sweetness and sunshine. From the moment Olive opens the door to Sylvan/Masur and his pitch perfect accent, the stage warms. Ever reliable, the actor’s open expression, visible reflections and well honed timing are an asset to the production as his character is ballast to the chaos.

Director Mark Brokaw is better with expression than movement. The former has fine rhythm, punch, and pregnant pauses. His actors are verbally whole characters. There’s an unnatural sameness to the way these varied people carry themselves and move, however. And a stiffness to their use of the stage.

Suzy Benzinger’s Costumes are beautifully apt, truly an extension of her characters. Anna Louizos’ Set Design is prosaic, impersonal and configured in a way that looks like a California sitcom set rather than a New York apartment. The placement of a window is as much a mystery as the plot.

You don’t have to be Jewish to have a great time at Olive and the Bitter Herbs, any more than you had to be Jewish to love Levi’s real Jewish Rye (an iconic 1979 advertising campaign). But it helps.

Photos by James Leynse:
1. (Left to right) David Garrison as Robert, Dan Butler as Trey , Marcia Jean Kurtz as Olive, Richard Masur as Sylvan and Julie Halston as Wendy.
2. (Left to right) Julie Halston as Wendy and Marcia Jean Kurtz as Olive.
3. (Left to right) Dan Butler as Trey, Marcia Jean Kurtz as Olive, Richard Masur as Sylvan, and David Garrison as Robert.

Primary Stages presents
The World Premiere Production of
Olive and the Bitter Herbs by Charles Busch
Directed by Mark Brokaw
59E59 St Theaters
59 East 59th Street
Ticket Central: 212 279 4200
Through September 3, 2011