If only good intentions were good theater. Then I could happily praise Swing State, which comes to New York from Chicago’s Goodman Theatre with considerable pedigree. Rebecca Gilman is a writer of stature whose plays include the highly-praised Spinning Into Butter; the director is Robert Falls, Gilman’s frequent collaborator and an acclaimed interpreter particularly of American drama.

But the deeply earnest show never goes beyond it’s good intentions. The title is clue, wanting to be an overarching, open-ended metaphor that can be read both as both hopeful and worrying.

The play itself remains dry-docked in metaphor, with scarcely a line or action that doesn’t feel like symbolism.

There’s not much of a plot, but here’s what I can say: On a Wisconsin farm, Ryan, a young man with a good heart and lots of problems, has been taken in by an older couple of whom only the wife, Peg, remains. Ryan struggles to gain a foothold of normalcy, but life works against him.

I should leave it at that, but I’ll only add that the action—clearly meant to keep us on the edge of our seats—is both predictable and manipulative. The best aspect of Gilman’s writing is its mordant humor, but paradoxically that’s the element that Falls’ very literal production tends to glide over.

Among the actors, Bubba Weiler (Ryan) creates a likeable, nearly three-dimensional character; three others don’t, but the failure lies largely in the script.

Many will want to like Swing State for its message, and I include myself in that group. But this is sad yet familiar territory, and Gilman and Falls haven’t found a way to make it feel like more than that.

Photo by Liz Lauren