In High Dungeon

  Over the years, I’ve found that it pays to be wary of TV stars that take to the stage—think of John Stamos in Bye Bye Birdie, Farah Fawcett (R.I.P.) in Bobbi Boland or Suzanne Somers in The Blonde in the Thunderbird. But Trust turns that particular preconception, along with a few others, on its head.

In fact, Paul Weitz’s new comedy Trust, at [Second Stage delights] in rattling people out of their complacency, and none more so than its characters, including millionaire Harry (Zach Braff) and his depressive wife Aleeza (Ari Graynor, updating Jackie Susann for 2010). Harry made a fortune founding a website, buying out his partners and then selling it for $302,443,000; Harry is also the kind of man who remembers the exact figure. Aleeza is a painter who no longer paints, preferring instead to wander around their enormous apartment all day, snapping at Harry and picking up a novel while he goes down on her. Theirs is not a happy marriage. So Harry does what most rational, unhappily married men do: He acts on an ad in the Village Voice about a sex dungeon.

There, in the first of many twists that should be more infuriating than they actually are (credit Weitz’s clever, funny dialogue and his cast), Harry runs into his former high school classmate Prudence (Sutton Foster), now working as Mistress Carol. Eventually Prudence and her Mensa-member boyfriend Morton (Bobby Cannavale) become entwined in Harry and Aleeza’s lives.

Trust isn’t exactly surprising; there’s a certain threadbare charm to the plot, even outfitted as it is with sex toys and an exploration of how much adults really just want to be told what to do. But director Peter DuBois has polished the script’s highpoints, aided immeasurably by the sleek, elegant and efficient set from Alexander Dodge, a set designer whose superlative work doesn’t get as much attention as it should. Weitz has also wisely refrained from allowing his characters unmitigated happy endings. The thread of melancholy and loneliness that runs throughout Trust never snaps, even as each member of the quartet appears to get what he or she needs most.

But if the show isn’t surprising, Braff is. Slimmed down since his last film appearance (when he looked like a greasy Don Knotts), Braff is a surprisingly engaging stage presence, turning in a beautifully crafted performance as a good guy with a boiling pit of rage bubbling just beneath the surface. The moments when that anger boils over are terrifying, and Weitz and DuBois use it as a litmus test for the characters that it’s turned against. Aleeza is aroused; Prudence is frightened. Of course, both women have their own issues with domination, and one of the nicest surprises about Trust is how they eventually deal with them.

Foster isn’t entirely convincing as a dominatrix, but then, Prudence seems unconsciously skeptical about her chosen profession. Foster’s best moments come when Prudence turns serious. Speaking in a low, commanding voice, Foster reveals facets of her talent that have previously been untapped in her Broadway musical performances. And Graynor makes a welcome return to the stage as the blithely bitchy Aleeza. If it were the ’60s, she’d be popping dolls; as it is, she comforts herself with an unfocused aim of her insults.

Only Cannavale seems occasionally out-of-place in the proceedings. Too obviously masculine to be threatening to Prudence or Harry and too gruff to seem convincing as a brain, Cannavale has to work against his growly voice to make his performance click. He eventually does, to some extent, though the tension is distracting. But as a light entertainment that flatters its audience by pretending to delve deeper into the murky depths of its characters’ loneliness than it does, Trust turns out to be the perfect distraction.

>>[Trust ]

Through Sept. 12, Second Stage Theatre, 305 W. 43rd St. (at 8th Ave.), 212-246-4422; $70.