Sam Shepard may be at the point in life where he's eligible for social security, but don't count on his having settled into easy, entertainment mode. Heartless may not be his best play— surely you can't expect a busy double tasker (actor as well as playwright) to hit home runs every time or to change his modus operandi — dark, enigmatic explorations of dysfunctional families.
His senior citizen status has clearly made Shepard very much aware of the grim reaper's hovering presence. In fact, death is as much a character in Heartless as the never seen dog belonging to the only male in the 5-member cast. That shift from focusing on dysfunctional males (battling brothers, abandoning fathers) to females has two not very sisterly sisters and an angry mother at the center of this new play. If there's one word that defines them as well as the other characters (including the never seen dog), it's abandonment.
Despite its disappointing aspects, Heartless — mainly that the pieces of this dramatic puzzle don't really add up to top tier Shepard — the familiar Shepardesque elements are all there. Instead of a food, fight we get some gross but amusing business involving jelly donuts and a scene in which the contents of a suitcase get spilled, re-packed, spilled again. There's also a supernatural touch. The cast is outstanding enough to make even the slow and pause heavy scenes interesting to watch. There's some potent dialogue, especially from the terrific Lois Smith's Mabel, and Jenny Bacon's dowdy but often funny Lucy. Daniel Aukin's laid-back direction and Eugene Lee's dark, minimalist scenery for a Hollywood Hills house on a cliff overlooking the ocean, reflect the playwright's face to face with the abyss.