Two self-destructive people, with nothing in common, and with no apparent redeeming qualities, meet in a bar, provide a few early hope-inducing laughs for the audience, sing a couple mildly amusing but forgettable songs, lament about life, meet a variety of uninteresting characters, and somehow survive to be miserable together for at least another day in a kind of weak Scottish relative of the Scorsese movie After Hours.

Midsummer received a lot of great reviews, which highlighted what a fun, exhilarating show it is. Huh? The best laugh line was provided by a Tickle Me Elmo toy, which was not one of the dozen or so characters portrayed by Chaon Cross and Patrick Mulvey, whose talents were the saving grace of the show, which went on for an hour forty minutes, seemed like two hours, and would have been better at an hour fifteen.

The most profound line of the night was offered, twice, like a lot of other lines in the show, by a parking lot machine, the unrealistic nature of which was brought home by the inability of the machine where I parked my car to operate without human intervention by a disembodied lot attendant.

Apparently other potential audience members were smart enough to look past the reviews, as the theater was practically empty. In that regard I felt sorry for the actors, particularly Cross, whom I have greatly enjoyed in recent sold-out productions of Life Sucks, Macbeth and Photograph 51.

As if the script weren’t enough of a burden, the actors also had to put up with the on-and-off stomping from the theater space above that would have distracted me enough to stop what I was doing, bang on the ceiling, and yell out “we’re trying to work here,” which, by the way, would have been the second best laugh of the evening.