Theatre in Review: HA HA HA HA HA HA HA (Woolly Mammoth Theatre Company/The Public Theater)You find me at a disadvantage; the above entertainment is so borderline indescribable that I'm not sure I can convey its singular nature. Worse, if you attend a future performance, it may be quite unlike what I saw the other night. But if there were a show worth taking a flyer on, it is HA HA HA HA HA HA HA. Julia Masli, the writer and star of this bizarre comedy-meets-therapy enterprise, appears swathed in heavy fabrics, a tiny searchlight poised atop her head. Instead of her left arm, she wields a golden mannequin's leg, to which is attached a microphone. A kindly soul with a gently inquisitive face, she approaches various audience members and asks, in a heavy Estonian accent, "Problem?" And dammit if people don't respond, baring their seemingly deepest issues. It's only the first sign of the performer's astonishing control. The kicker is Masli, who never speaks more than five or six words at a time, is here to help, and she's task-oriented. Does a young man complain about overwork? She drafts him as her assistant, installing him at a desk with a laptop and tasking him with various research projects. A nice young woman admits to being insecure; soon she is onstage, too, making a giant sign that says, "I am confident." Another fellow, feeling the need to let go of his troubles, is dispatched to a shower stall upstage, where he works up quite a lather. And yet another is brought on to repair the chair that Masli, in a fit of emotion, has destroyed. In many ways, repair is the evening's theme; each person is told to take some positive action that will address their troubles. But how is it that everyone so easily complies with their orders? Occasionally, things go awry; Masli was clearly flummoxed with a man whose father is in the hospital, gravely ill; the prospect of death appears to be her guardrail. Then again, she mines gold from unexpected answers. Another, asked for his advice on getting over heartbreak, replied, 'I just slept with a lot of guys!") To be sure, the blank-faced way Masli receives these true confessions is its source of hilarity. How does she do it? We all talk about the unpredictable aspect of live performance, but Masli works without a net, taking whatever curveball is thrown at her and using it to turn the stage into a hive of activity. The volatility of the show's format only seems to energize her. In what may have been the funniest episode, a young man who is moving away from home called his mother to say he loved her. Her confused, nonplussed reaction -- clearly, she seemed to think, something had gone wrong -- had the crowd in stitches. Amazingly, given her kooky self-presentation, Masli has the room on her side from the get-go, with everyone willing to do her bidding. And her way of drawing us in and making us feel like a tiny community is uncannily healing. One person in the theatre's center section admitted to feeling overwhelmed by the chaos of the current world. Masli asked if anyone agreed with that sentiment, and unsurprisingly, she found more than a few takers. Underneath its non-sequitur laughter, the theme of HA HA HA HA HA HA is that we're all in this mess together, and we need to help each other where we can. Under Kim Noble's direction, the show has a small legion of lighting and sound designers credited with improvised lighting and sound scores. Their contributions are not obvious, to say the least. In any case, HA HA HA HA HA HA HA is the damndest thing I've seen in several seasons. When it was over, the audience hung around, unwilling to leave. I wanted to return as soon as possible to see how Masli might handle a different set of interlocutors. Clearly, she has the power to cloud our minds -- and to keep us laughing, empathetically. --David Barbour 
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