Thom Pain (2005)

James Urbaniak appears to be composed of regular polygons, and so does Thom Pain. Playwright Will Eno's virtuoso monologue is a masterpiece of Beckettian geometry, smirkingly half-disguised as a spontaneous outpouring of personal history. Urbaniak navigates this deadly serious joke with brittle, bitter hipster aplomb, chewing over the relatively few agonies and fewer joys his character has suffered in his short life. ''Isn't it wonderful,'' he ventures, ''how we never recover?'' But Thom, brilliant as it is, remains an isolated aria of rapturous narcissism. Like the clever young people who will adore it, the show never quite transcends itself.