Channeling Strawberry

After a disastrous art show opening, a breakup with her boyfriend and a suicide attempt, painter Dana Fielding, the heroine of "The Sweetest Swing in Baseball," lands in a mental hospital.

Not laughing yet? Be patient.

She discovers she likes the security of institutional life, but her insurance will only cover a 10-day stay, so she needs to fake a condition complex enough to let her remain longer.

Counseled by other inmates, whose advice is questionable, she feigns a delusion that she's someone else. Choosing from the biographies on stock in the hospital library, she rejects Mary Tyler Moore and selects Darryl Strawberry instead.

Unfortunately, she knows nothing about baseball, and even less about the former Mets and Yankees slugger's scandal-ridden career.

Liz Jahren, starring as Dana/Darryl in the 6th Street Playhouse production of Chicago playwright Rebecca Gilman's 2004 play, wins both sympathy and laughter with a brave but bewildered attempt to scam her psychiatrists.

Giving a woman artist's impression of how a professional jock would act and talk, she struts, swaggers and slings around slang she clearly doesn't understand.

Directed by Elizabeth Craven, the four supporting players each take on two roles: Ann Woodhead as a haughty gallery owner and the hospital's aloof chief psychiatrist; Anthony Shaw Abaté as a rival artist and a stalker inmate at the hospital; Keith Baker as Dana's departing boyfriend and a gay alcoholic in rehab; Tamar Cohn as a promoter of Dana's art and a second doctor at the hospital.

While each player gave a persuasive performance on opening night, the chemistry among the actors really didn't begin to cook until the second act. That's at least partly because the play's later hospital scenes pack more emotional power and satirical punch than early scenes in an art gallery.

The abstract set design by Craven and David Lear uses a baseball diamond motif to good effect, and April George's lighting design accentuates scene changes on a nearly bare stage.

The cleverly written script has lots of fun with a variety of topics, including the nature of art, the value of fame and even gender roles, but the play's sharp focus never blurs.

In just two acts, each shorter than an hour, Craven and her cast gradually bring the comedy's central question to the surface without forcing it.

As the action naturally and comfortably progresses, the audience grows fond of this unhappy artist pretending to be a troubled athlete, but begins to wonder -- which one of them is ultimately stronger?

You can reach Staff Writer Dan Taylor at 521-5243 or dan.taylor@pressdemocrat.com.