Transforming, in just over an hour, from stiff formality to loose intimacy, Bock's divine comedy ends up being a celebration of downtime, of those secret parts of our lives untouched by working life. The play's most revelatory moments take place not under bright lights at the conference table, but in dreamlike flashbacks. Similarly, its rhythmic elasticity and mesmerizing humor derive to a greater degree from moments of silence -- when the characters do nothing more productive than fiddle with their car keys, stare into space, or doodle on the table -- than from all the worthy career speeches put together.
Upon closer inspection, the floor of James Faerron's set ceases to look like that of a high school gym. It's really a detailed architectural blueprint of a house. Not the building details, mind you -- only its barest outline. Similarly, a job is just a job. It's not a life.