Cassia Thompson and Jordan Matthew Brown Photo by Todd Cerveris

The play's title character, Zack Munning (Jordan Matthew Brown), is the Edwardian equivalent of a twenty-first-century slacker nerd popularized by filmmaker Judd Apatow. Unkempt, preternaturally lazy, and strangely endearing, Zack is a 29-year-old man-child, who appears to be a direct ancestor to the roles perfected by Seth Rogen, Jonah Hill, or Jason Segel. He's the family ne'er-do-well, but his bumbling innocence may be his secret weapon.

Zack's conniving mother (Melissa Maxwell) runs a catering business out of her home, and her oldest son Paul (David T. Patterson), who is haughty and tightfisted, manages it. With revenue drying up, the arrival of Virginia Cavender (Cassia Thompson), a wealthy relative, offers a glimmer of hope for the scheming mother-son duo. Virginia (or, Jenny, as she prefers) is oblivious to the domestic machinations, including the presence of an inept parlor maid (Caroline Festa), who has been hired merely to keep up appearances. Nevertheless, Jenny seems content in the den of vipers and is drawn to Zack's innate goodness.

Meanwhile, Zack is trapped in an engagement to Martha Wrigley (Grace Guichard), a flirtatious and clingy neighbor. His predicament is made even more dire by the intervention of Martha's bullying father, Joe (Sean Runnette), who is hell-bent on seeing the marriage proceed.

As with other Brighouse works, Zack explores the friction of class distinctions, family duty, and traditional gender roles. Here, though, the issues feel plotted and schematic rather than developing organically from the characters. Therefore, the magnetic appeal of the shaggy underdog at the play's center remains elusive.

This isn't helped by Britt Berke's wavering direction, which attempts to inject some contemporaneity into the comedy. While the production perhaps wisely dispenses with Northwestern English accents, that choice, combined with broad comic delivery, makes the play seems out of place and out of time. This is a shame since, as a program note explains, Brighouse considered himself "essentially a regional writer." (Kudos to the Mint and the company's dramaturgical advisor Jesse Marchese for consistently providing outstanding biographical and contextual material.)

Additionally, the design elements contribute to the tonal confusion. Brittany Vasta's set effectively evokes the spare elegance of a middle-class home in a small Lancashire village, and Kindall Almond's Edwardian costumes gesture toward period authenticity. Yet, these are at odds with the pre-show music (Jane Shaw provided the arrangements and sound design), featuring pop songs and soft rock, and a rom-com scenic flourish (augmented by Mary Louise Geiger's ardent lighting effect) near the end.

The show's press information prominently prints a "spoiler alert," stating that "Zack comes out on top." While Zack may not be among Brighouse's finest achievements, the play might benefit from an approach that delicately plumbs the covert charms and trusts the surprises to emerge on their own.