E-Mail This Article to a Friend Love among the ruins Neil LaBute’s The Mercy Seat at the Lyric BY SALLY CRAGIN

There was no shortage of heroism on display on September 11, 2001, and in the days that followed. But it took Neil LaBute, the bard of moral turpitude, to find a small corner of downtown New York where the terrorism was more emotional, and waged "on the hearts of those we profess to love." That’s from the preface to The Mercy Seat, a two-character, one-act play set during the night following the day of Ground Zero. Eric C. Engel directs the regional premiere at the Lyric Stage Company that opens this Friday with Robert Pemberton and Paula Plum. (The original debuted New York in December 2002 with Sigourney Weaver and Liev Schreiber.)

The premise is bleakly noir and surprisingly tender. Ben Harcourt, who is married, has been having an affair with office mate Abby Prescott, who’s several years older. The first of many ironies is that their illicit love affair saved them both that morning (they were having a quickie in her apartment when the towers came down.) Does Ben get in touch with his family? Or does he "wipe the slate clean and start over," as LaBute writes? If Ben flees, he remains a hero, and his legacy is complete. But is it worth the lie?

"The events in New York are the catalyst for the discussion," Engel suggests. "It makes their plight seem at once all the more ridiculous and all the more sublime. I think that kind of tragedy makes us realize in one breath that our days are numbered and that we need to make the most of our personal happiness and realize what our responsibilities to each other are."

But this is Neil LaBute, so there’s sexually explicit language and psychological intensity. "There are places where we feel we’re doing Beckett, and other places where we’re doing Albee," Engel continues. Paula Plum agrees that "with LaBute, there’s such a raw cruelty to the language"; she adds, "Their entrapment is double — they’re in this hellish lie that has made up their life for the past three years, and they’re in this other hell, the hell outside." (The apartment is close enough to have a view of the devastation.) For Pemberton, "9/11 is happening right outside their door — literally. It’s this constant presence that’s felt and reverberates." The Lyric Stage production team plans to change the configuration of the theater so that seats encircle a small playing area, underlining the sense of entrapment these two characters suffer.

"Most people in relationships," Engel goes on, "from time to time allow themselves to fantasize about how much less complicated their life would be without the other party if the other party were to disappear. There’s no guilt — there’s no mess — there’s no divorce. That’s the kind of fantasy Ben pursues. One can immediately argue, ‘Where’s the responsibility?’, but if we’ve done our job, people’s feelings will shift over the play. Whether or not Ben and Abby can get away with it is less important than the place they allow themselves to go."

Pemberton looks for grace in Ben. "He’s trying to redeem all the screw-ups he’s had in his life. That’s admirable and noble, and it’s also coarse and ugly." And as in much of LaBute’s work, the actor concludes, there’s a tantalizing "possibility they can actually live happily ever after. And that’s the fascination of this play — the magic — especially after 9/11."

The Lyric Stage Company presents The Mercy Seat March 19 through April 1 at the Lyric Stage Company Theatre, 140 Clarendon Street in Boston. Tickets are $22 to $41 ($10 student rush tickets are available a half-hour before performance); call (617) 437-7172 or visit www.lyricstage.com.