Carson Higgins, Kerstin Anderson, and Loren Lester Photo by Qinyi Hua

Seating is general admission among the space's thirty-three chairs placed beneath shelves of books and tchotchkes on three sides of the playing area. You're frequently no more than a few feet away from an actor.

The chaotic state of the living space is the work of Jerry (Loren Lester), a reclusive fellow in his 60s who has decorated the floor in crushed Zabar's coffee cups and newspapers containing the obituaries of people he's never met, such as baseball player Ken Holtzman and musician Milton Kaye.

"This is what is left of these people. Every single one of them... This is all that's left, in some cases."

Personal legacy, especially how it applies to family history and the control of how loved ones are remembered, is the main theme running through Everett's cozy, humorous drama. It's likely the motivation that brings Jerry's estranged son Charlie (Carson Higgins) back to establish a relationship with his father while his wife Kay (Kerstin Anderson) is about to give birth to their first child.

Jerry's inability to recognize Charlie, even after he identifies himself as his son, may be the first sign that the state of his apartment is a result of the onset of Alzheimer's, although, judging from my guest's reaction, his soapbox speech about The New York Times being a fascist publication may convince some audience members that his brain is functioning perfectly fine.

Charlie has an idea of how to gain his father's acceptance while preserving Jerry's personal history in the most positive light possible, but when a new character (Jerusha Cavazos) lets her presence be known, it becomes clear that he's far from knowledgeable about the full story.

Clocking in at 90 minutes, Obit. feels a bit thin on plot and relationship development as it draws its expected parallel between the fresh new mind entering the world ready to absorb information and the older mind losing the lifetime of information it's obtained. But Everett's dialogue is engaging and Feldman's cast plays it with the right degree of naturalism.

Walking back to the subway, my guest and I discussed if the play would have interested us as much if played on a proscenium stage, or if our enjoyment of the piece was more based on the intimacy of the production than the text. At this point, I'd say Obit. is at the promising work in progress stage, but with its thought-provoking subject and fine acting ensemble, it's certainly the kind of ambitious theatre that has lured people to walk down outdoor iron stairways into East Village basements for many decades.