Pizza Man, directed by and starring Pamela Arndt, has much to recommend it. Amanda Navarez's delicate house music is a welcome deviation from the usual canned stuff. The prerecorded music, when it does kick in, is apt and evocative. The show has a point of view, and its tech elements fit into a unified world. The unit set, by Arndt and Tim Samland, is well-designed, with a clear eye for '70s detail. Arndt demonstrates a wide range of theatrical skills, despite being in the show from curtain to curtain - an overload of responsibility that often screams "vanity project." She and her costars are blocked effectively. The homework has all been done. The biggest problem she misses is one you'd have to be offstage to see; unfortunately, it all but undoes the first act.

Arndt turns in a lovely, naturalistic performance as Alice. Meanwhile, Alice's roommate, Julie, is played by Zoe Shields in an amplified sitcom style. It's like watching characters from Breaking Bad and 2 Broke Girls interact. It makes Julie's frantic behavior look even more ridiculous than it already is. Please understand, I don't hold Shields responsible; she's employing a time-honored mode of performance, and playwright Darlene Craviotto gives her a setup-setup-joke role that seems to demand it. It's a shame no one had the vantage point or perspective needed to see this dichotomy. Shields delivers each joke as if expecting a boisterous laugh track, so the dense silence that greets her every punch line must come as a shock.

To identify the second major issue, I'm obliged to hint at a plot point that isn't revealed till late in the first act. Suffice it to say Julie and Alice attempt to strike a blow against the patriarchy by dominating Eddie, an easygoing pizza delivery guy, embodied by Samland in a style halfway between that of his costars. I think a fascinating play could be written on the topic of whether such a stratagem could even be achieved. I'm fairly certain, however, that play wouldn't be a situation comedy.

Arndt writes in her director's notes, "I knew I wanted to do this show when I first read it in 1998." I'm guessing she was a young teen then, so it must've seemed edgy and cool. (Stick it to the man, Laverne and Shirley!) Craviotto's script hasn't aged well, though, assuming it made sense even then. From a feminist perspective, I find it unclear how abusing a pizza man does any good, nor why this play was named after him. Samland seems unable to justify Eddie's warm behavior toward women who gave him a concussion two hours ago; and really, who could blame him? More damningly, it's obvious within minutes that Alice and Julie aren't the victims of male oppression so much as their own ineptitude. Worst of all, the company doesn't sell pizza by the slice at intermission. That's just tragic.

MIDNIGHT SUN PERFORMANCE SPACE, PIZZA MAN, THROUGH FEB. 23, 8 P.M. THURSDAY-SUNDAY, THROUGH FEB. 23, $12-$18, 113 N. COLUMBIA ST., OLYMPIA, 360.250.2721