A person who represents himself has a fool for a client, lawyers say. In theater, the same is true of an actor who attempts to direct himself.

That's the apparent problem behind Hunger Theatre's failed revival of Sam Shepard's True West, which the resurrected company's artistic director, Thomas Bazar, both directs and stars in. Before its four-year hiatus ended with last fall's Endgame, Hunger previously

suffered from the same lack of vision—save for an exciting revival of Shepard's Pulitzer-winning drama Buried Child, which Bazar did not direct or act in—but apparently lessons were not learned.

Bazar plays Lee to Vincent Quintiliani's Austin, brothers who are opposites: Lee is like the coyotes howling in the desert near their mother's California suburb, and Austin resembles the hapless family pets they stalk. Austin, a married screenwriter, wants to live free like his hard-drinking, petty criminal brother, while Lee sees greener grass on Austin's side of the fence.

Like Shepard's other works, True West also explores absent father issues, the mythical American West, alcohol-fueled self-realization and messy violence—but Hunger's production only succeeds with the latter.

When pressed, permed Hollywood agent Saul (Scott Robertson) buys Lee's ridiculous movie idea—one cowboy chases another across "tornado country" on horseback after both conveniently run out of gas while hauling horse trailers—the brothers effectively trade places in Shepard's archetypal struggle of brains versus brawn: Lee pecks out his screenplay on Austin's typewriter while a soused Austin burgles the neighbors' toasters.

This production drags through self-indulgent acting, with director Bazar unable to rein in actor Bazar's drunken cackling and empty pauses. Quintiliani's whiney Austin proves no match for Bazar's bluster; they create no plausible sibling connection, let alone the key reversal, and miss most of the play's humor. Robertson likewise skims the surface of Shepard's ironic—given his success after True West as a movie writer, actor and director, as well as star-spouse of Jessica Lange—Hollywood satire, and Gloria Salmansohn's entrance as the boys' mother fails to fulfill the scene's absurd punch.

True West receives no insight from set designer Melissa Nannen's bare-bones kitchen and Andrew Cowles' bland lighting. The production also egregiously, inexplicably and inexcusably skips Austin's celebratory bread-toasting, and ends the play without the iconic stalemate Shepard requires. Perhaps the director was too busy acting to notice.

TRUE WEST

Through June 10 (no performances Memorial Day weekend), Hunger Theatre at Christ Church Neighborhood House, 20 N. American St., 215-545-0876 or www.hungertheatre.org