Eighth Day of the Week is another in the long series of Loeb Experimental near-misses. This view of life in Poland just after World War II could have been as gripping throughout as it was in the few really effective spots, but poor direction and generally weak acting kept the script from fulfilling its promise.

Anthony Graham-White adapted a Marek Hlasko story full of characters and atmosphere. Agnieszka, a young woman relatively untouched by the war, passes an existence surrounded by hulks who are psychologically still under the Nazi rule. Her parents are aging and broken; her lover lost all but his physical drives in the concentration camps. One of her brothers still tries to live by Darwinian prison morality, while the other drowns his self-pity in vodka. Throughout their actions parade chorus-like groups of foul-mouthed and drunken toughs, the spawn of occupation.

Agnieszka's encouragement fails to help anyone. Her father is inconsolable, and her predictions of a better world to come infuriate the lover, who wants to be left to his memories of concentration camp life. Such an environment would tell on any optimist, and toward the close we find our heroine suggesting suicide to her alcoholic brother, a hint he does not take. With the end comes no resolution of problems, but only the prospect of a continued day-by-day existence in the future.

This voyage of a girl into despair is only fair drama, but the script has great possibilities as a sketch, a portrait of a country undergoing a reconstruction of its morality. To be entertaining, however, such a vignette must be convincing, and Eighth Day of the Week simply does not convince. The principal blame for this failure must fall upon the director Graham-White, who should probably stick to his adapting. I have seldom seen so many embarrassed-looking people on a stage, wondering where to stand, and, after they find a place, what to do with themselves. A little drill on delivery could also have helped.

Admittedly, the director had to work with some very amateur actors. Ray Gozzi, as the unalcoholic brother, was particularly weak. When he declaimed "I've been through a lot in life," in the very tone that one uses for "I've been to the Bick for an English," the play reaches a nadir.

Anne Lilley Kerr, who played Agnieszka, deserves the most credit of all the cast and staff. Showing a good deal of poise throughout, she helped her fellow actors when they had difficulties, and at times brought out the best aspects of the script. If one player could save an entire production by skill and determination, Miss Kerr would have done it; her effort was a joy to behold.

Graham-White's set with a Klee backdrop was interesting and the lighting by Ming (of Mongo, no doubt) had some imaginative touches. It is a pity that a little more attention was not paid to the cast, particularly the supporting actors and the toughs, for without it, the play was not poignant and affecting, as intended, but off-color and downright silly.