There are productions that make you marvel at theatre and its endless ability to amaze, and then there are productions that amaze you because of their ability to do the exact opposite. Just before the curtain goes up on this production, the stage-manager/light board operator/house manager makes an announcement about cell phones and then says, “Remember there are two plays tonight. You paid for both so you should stay for both.” Within minutes it is pretty obvious why he feels compelled to ask you to stay for the second play.

To be certain, neither play is soaring in any sense. They seem to have been written on one of Arthur Kopit’s bad days. With plays like Indians, Oh Dad, Poor Dad, Mamas Locked You In The Closet and I’m Feeling So Sad, and Wings (which I saw with Jessica Tandy - a marvel), I guess he is allowed a few bad days. If, however you are going to choose a "Bad Day Play," then you better have some mighty talent to back it up.

Mortals Theatre either doesn’t have it or this was one of their bad days as well. These productions seemed to me more like the first run-through in the rehearsal process. Everyone has their lines memorized, but they don’t always remember where they are going or why. There are pauses in these two plays, during which you could unload a banana boat. Combined with a lot of useless action that signifies nothing, it makes for a trying evening.

Chamber Music is the story of eight women in an insane asylum. The women are — or at least believe they are — author Gertrude Stein, martyr Joan of Arc, activist Susan B. Anthony, politician Queen Isabella of Spain, Constanze Mozart (wife of the famed composer), pilot Amelia Earhart, silent-film actress Pearl White, and explorer Osa Johnson. They are a sort of board of directors who have to undertake a plan of action in order to thwart an attack by the men’s ward. Their plan is to kill one among them as a sign of their bravery and willingness to sacrifice.

The second one act, The Day The Whores Came Out To Play Tennis, is about six men at a country club holding their ground against a sea of beautiful but raucous women who have taken over the tennis court and happen to be minus their underwear. The women have cut the phone lines and are having a grand old time to the extent that they shimmy up to the window and all fart together. All the men can do is stay in that one room (a nursery) instead of driving over to the police station to report trespassing. It is never explained why. The only one who has a reason to be there, and whose performance thankfully rose above the waterline, is the butler, played by Zachary Zito.