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Red is my kind of play; cerebral yet laced with a passion whose dosage straddles the line between poison and remedy. Where much theatre dwells in the granularity of raw human drama, begging the question as to whether it’s possible to achieve any greater insight now than in the past, Red chooses instead to confront the trials of civilization. Think of it as climbing Abraham Maslow’s hierarchy of needs and focusing attention on its apex, the need for self-realization. The vehicle for expressing the pinnacle of self-realization?

Art, of course.

The scenario for this Tony award-winning play is a what-if set during a specific, and apparently pyrotechnical, period in the career of 20th century abstract expressionist Mark Rothko. Bare facts offer a structure; in 1958, Rothko accepted a commission by Seagram & Sons to paint murals for the high-end Four Seasons restaurant, located in a modernist architectural landmark designed by Philip Johnson and Ludwig Mies van der Rohe. He later rejected the commission, returning his cash advance to Seagram & Sons out of an apparent objection to his art serving as background for rich diners.

Smartly conceived and written by playwright and screenwriter John Logan, Red inhabits the period in between embracing the commission and detonating it. Delivered as a 90-minute burst without intermission, the play teases out the thread of thought that prompted Rothko to reverse course through interactions with his young assistant. Yet the point is not so much to engage in speculative biography but to provide the framework for a more philosophical discussion of art’s meaning and function. The scene, which occurs on a beautifully designed set that invites audiences to inhabit Rothko’s studio, is rooted in the clash between people of different status. Here we have the novice and master, or the young and the, ahem, less young. It’s a battleground of wills fierily enacted by Tony Abatemarco and Patrick Stafford, but necessarily not a power struggle. As Rothko pontificates on his process and the nature of art, delivered by way of Nietzche’s thoughts in The Birth of Tragedy, he lords it over his assistant Ken who, in time, grows enough to jab with his own piercing insight at the true price of commercialized and commoditized art. It’s a potent chemical reaction, which fizzes, pops, flashes, and ultimately bangs on stage in an absolutely riveting piece of theatre. When Rothko and Ken prep a canvas with a solid base coat of paint, the relationship between the two men finds its most energetic expression as we watch them dance around each other in the work of painting. Such is the sort of flourish that marks caryn desai’s astute direction, which infuses a philosophical piece with a meaningful human dimension.

The International City Theatre can be consistently relied upon for good productions. With Red, they exceed their usual excellence with a tour-de-force that should not be missed.

Red runs Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays @ 8 p.m. and Sundays @ 2 p.m., through Sept. 15. Tickets are $38 on Thursdays and $45 on Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays. Preview tickets are $29. International City Theatre is in the Long Beach Performing Arts Center, 300 E. Ocean Blvd. For reservations and information, call the ICT box office at 562.436.4610 or visit www.InternationalCityTheatre.com.

Frédérik Sisa is the Page's Assistant Editor and Resident Art Critic. He sometimes feeds his personal blog and, on occasion, tweets. Contact him at fsisa@thefrontpageonline.com.