Top-notch ensemble makes Steppenwolf's 'Night' come alive

"I wouldn't want to live there," said the woman sitting behind me at a recent performance of Steppenwolf Theatre's "The Night Alive."

She was referring to Todd Rosenthal's wonderfully seedy set, a rundown Edwardian home in Dublin, whose parlor - with faded wallpaper peeling off water-stained walls and a layer of grime coating a bay window - had been turned into an SRO.

She had a point. With piles of books and clothes littering the floor, and a makeshift sink and toilet in the corner, it's not a particularly hospitable environment. But it reflects perfectly the messy lives of Irish playwright Conor McPherson's down-at-heel characters.

There's Tommy (the expressive, ever-genuine Francis Guinan), a lonely, middle-aged man with a good heart but not much ambition, who shambles through life working odd jobs. Sometimes he's joined by Doc (the affably endearing Tim Hopper), a dim dreamer who's a beat behind everyone else. He occasionally crashes with Tommy in the room he rents from Maurice, his uncle-turned-landlord played by the properly peevish M. Emmet Walsh, conspicuous for his nonexistent Irish accent.

More revealing, however, is the great stone wall and overgrown foliage that surrounds the house, suggesting how isolated McPherson's characters are. Divorced Tommy is estranged from his teenage children. Doc is practically homeless, shuttling from Tommy's place to his sister's, where his welcome has worn thin. Maurice is a widower using alcohol to numb his grief and guilt.

"The Night Alive" marks yet another eloquent, sobering examination of loneliness and despair from McPherson, who portrays masterfully the inner lives of lost, emotionally marginalized souls. And while I wouldn't place "The Night Alive" in the same category as "The Seafarer," "The Weir" or "Dublin Carol" - which I found more emotionally gripping - the play is solid, with a touch of menace (de rigueur for McPherson) and a nicely ambiguous ending.

It begins with Tommy - a most unlikely knight in armor - rescuing Aimee (played with understated vulnerability by Helen Sadler) from her abusive boyfriend Kenneth (a slickly sinister, slightly unhinged Dan Waller). He takes the bruised and bloodied young woman (and sometime prostitute) back to his room, where he tends to her wounds. The damaged souls establish a bond. Tommy's fierce protectiveness of the enigmatic Aimee, who might not be the victim she seems, prompts criticism from Maurice, who claims he's neglecting his own kids to dote on a stranger. Perhaps, but Aimee isn't the only one depending on Tommy, a self-described "mooch" and ersatz father whose unwavering sense of decency makes him de facto caretaker for all.

Clearly, one of director Henry Wishcamper's greatest assets is his top-notch cast, led by Guinan in yet another flawless performance from a Chicago treasure who speaks volumes even while saying nothing at all.