Review: ‘Aliens’ lands (quietly) at Ion

Yes, a character does sing the line “I’m a Martian masterpiece from another dimension” at the top of Annie Baker’s “The Aliens.”

No, he is not one. (So far as we know.) Neither does the play have much to do with space visitation, despite its title.

And yet there is a real sense in which KJ (Brian Butler), the lost soul who croons that little tune in Ion Theatre’s sensitive staging of this wry and highly meditative work, doesn’t seem quite conversant with earthly life.

The same is true for his pal Jasper (Reed Willard), a more intense type who in his own way appears ill at ease with his particular place on the planet.

The two have staked out as hospitable a refuge as they can find in the back patio of the Green Sheep Coffee Co., a humble joint in small-town Vermont whose rutted old picnic bench seems to exert an irresistible gravitational pull.

(The look of the place as designed by Claudio Raygoza, who also co-directed the show with fellow Ion co-founder and artistic leader Glenn Paris, is as closely observed as Baker’s dialogue, right down to the ratty grass, peeling paint and distressed downspout.)

Soon these two 30-ish dreamers are bringing a newcomer, the teenage cafe worker Evan (Tyler Oakley), into their torpid orbit.

What we learn about all three is dispensed drip by slow drip, like the lazy percolation of a cup of cold-brew coffee. Jasper is writing a Charles Bukowski-inspired book titled “Little Tigers Everywhere.” KJ is a University of Vermont dropout who has recovered (more or less) from some kind of breakdown. Evan is a high-schooler who has issues with his mom, his country and the entire concept of fireworks.

The play’s deliberate pacing, with pauses long enough to be timed by sundial, will be familiar to those who’ve seen other works by Baker, a Pulitzer Prize winner in 2014 for “The Flick.”

“The Aliens” is the third in her trilogy set in fictional Shirley, Vt. (Ion produced the first, “Body Awareness,” in 2011, and New Village Arts Theatre staged a memorable production of “Circle Mirror Transformation” last year. "The Aliens" is a regional premiere.)

Baker’s intensely character-driven work is the kind of material Ion handles exceptionally well, and here the text also benefits from admirably committed acting.

Butler’s mellow, gently funny take on KJ makes room later in the play for difficult intimations of a seriously troubled soul. Willard capably captures Jasper’s air of aggressive self-delusion in his pained rants about an ex-girlfriend, yet also conveys a touching sense of protective tenderness toward KJ.

And Oakley, in the tricky role of the awkward and ever-tentative Evan, brings a telling physicality to his character. One silent scene in which he can’t seem to decide precisely how to stand speaks volumes about Evan’s discomfort in his own skin.

Still, something about “The Aliens” (which turns out to be one of the names KJ and Jasper once contemplated for their old band, along with Limp Handshake and Nefarious Hookah) feels vaguely incomplete. Or maybe, in a way, too complete.

As we learn more about these three, and then are rocked by a startling (if unseen) incident in the second half of this 110-minute show, the effect of such specificity is somehow like spotting a new star in the night sky that turns out to be just a passing plane.

There are still satisfactions to be had in Baker’s often exquisite care for her characters, and in the actors’ mastery of craft. But the world of the play at length starts to feel too circumscribed — like the tiny patch of turf you can’t help but hope Evan finds a way to escape.