Audrey Heffernan Meyer and Jordan Lage Photo by Jeremy Daniel

Art of Leaving maintains the basic formula of its predecessors but updates the battle of the sexes with an arsenal of contemporary references to polyamory, self-esteem affirmations, and "feminist WOKE culture." The play, which revolves around the breakup of a marriage, and its title, slyly alludes to Ibsen's A Doll's House.

Set on the Upper East Side (Frank Oliva's sleek and sophisticated scenic design, which is nicely complemented by Lara De Brujin's costumes and Stacey Boggs and Betsy Chester's lighting, visually establishes the characters' economic status), the play gathers three generations of married or soon-to-be married couples.

Aaron (Jordan Lage), the domineering husband at the center of the play, makes Ibsen's Torvald seem like a winner of the "Husband of the Year" award in comparison. Adopting the strict mental and physical guidelines for male empowerment established by the proclaimed "Male Happiness guru" Dr. Stang, whose book offers the key to maintaining male superiority, Aaron constantly berates his wife Diana (Audrey Heffernan Meyer) for being too cheerful and optimistic. Her sunny disposition, he claims, "invalidates my melancholy when you throw your happiness in my face."

Felix (Alan Ceppos) and Esther (Pamela Shaw), Aaron's parents, represent the older generation who have weathered infidelities and secrets. Representing the younger are Jason (Brian Mason), Aaron and Diana's son, and his fiancée Caitlyn (Molly Chiffer). They have agreed to an open marriage–or, more accurately, Caitlyn has decreed it for them both. As Caitlyn explains her modern, independent view: "I don't need a man to complete me or define me, and if one partner doesn't work out, I'll have someone else to rely on."

Aaron has brought his family together to formally announce his intentions to get a divorce. Dr. Stang, after all, suggests that it is advisable for the husband to surround himself with people who will support him and who will comfort the wife "through the devastating loss" of her man. Diana, unfortunately, is the last one to know about the dissolution of the union.

The play's humor relies on old tropes like a middle-aged Jewish son with mommy issues, the cultural rebelliousness of the youth (Caitlyn, for instance, is a graduate student majoring in critical identity with a concentration on gender and sexuality), and the wealthy matron who prattles on about the sales at Bergdorf's. For extra measure, sentences are peppered with Yiddishisms like "bubbie," "tuchus," and "meshuggana."

Under Matt Gehring's direction, the cast gamely fleshes out these sitcom figures. Ceppos and Shaw initially face the task of demonstrating their characters' profound out-of-touch nature, but they later shift to showing the quiet strength that has sustained their long marriage. Similarly, Mason and Chiffer start by exhibiting relationship faddishness, yet they ultimately convey the genuine trepidation of entering a lifelong commitment. As the emotionally abused wife, Meyer is quite touching, maintaining her dignity and hinting that she may even get the last laugh.

Lage has the most difficult assignment of making the hypermasculine Aaron if not likeable then at least a subject of the audience's amused condescension. The actor, a founding member of the Atlantic Theater Company who, according to his bio, has performed in nearly two dozen plays by David Mamet, seems therefore to be right at home with the role. The character borders on a parody of the toxic males Mamet specializes in, but Lage manages to reveal glimmers of insecure boyishness underneath the bravado.

The performance garnered a fair number of laughs the night I attended, but these were mostly a tribute to the very hard-working cast. Fifty years ago, the marital revelations and commentary on gender roles as depicted in Art of Leaving might be considered titillating and risqué. Today–thankfully–they border on cringe.