One distinguishing characteristic of theater at Harvard is how practically any space can be transformed into a stage. The production of Lifeboat in the Cabot Underground Theatre is an example of this. The room is a small basement, not recommended for the claustrophobic. The eponymous hexagon-shaped boat eerily resembled a coffin without a top.

In this adaptation of the Alfred Hitchcock film, an ocean liner is shipwrecked, and the passengers wiggle on their stomachs and climb into the lifeboat. What follows is an unpredictable set of instances testing bravado and intellect. The lucky passengers are a pathetic bunch, each one more unlikable than the next.

Connie (Lisa Nosal) is the first character in the boat. As a tall leggy brunette of wealth, Nosal embodies the swank decadence of 1940s glamour. She's tougher (and taller) than most of the men. Only once does she loose her cool, when she slaps another passanger across and then has to slither back to him for reassurance. She seduces Kovacs (Dylan ) but the intimacy between them seems so forced.

Kovacs is one of the leading men. With his shirt unbuttoned theater most of the performance, he struts his manliness and often gets into a battle of the bulge with Rittenhouse (Hans Canosa). Canosa is also the director of the production, and casting himself in this role is a suspicious move, since Rittenhouse is the loftiest of characters in terms of intellect and smugness. Canosa appears comfortable, almost too comfortable, punctuating sentences with a cigar that is never lit but just licked at the end for effect. His character is enigmatic but haughty and egocentric.

One of the most disturbing characters is Mrs. Higley (Caitlin Anderson). It's a pity that her part is so small because she portrayed it with a catatonic stare and high pitched, mousy voice. Her entrance and exit create an expectation for weirdness that is not adequately fulfilled. Although one of the characters (played by Sami Shumays who does a convincing job as a drunk) has a leg amputated, the bizarreness of the characters' personze is not fully exploited. They are too relaxed for people who could at any moment perish.

There are plenty of confrontational moments. As a study of human nature, Lifeboat is revealing on the subject of the depths people will stoop to (and rise to) to save their life. But much of the delivery gets lost in all the strutting and posing the actors do. Moreover, there are moments when everyone on the boat is holding separate conversations which seem unimportant since none of them is discernable with all the mutter of activity.

The show is in your face. Literally. At the end, when the passengers are saved in an anti-climatic moment, a champagne bottle is popped open. At the performance I attended, a few audience members got wet. When the three women who serve as the sea whip sheets at the boat members to affect a storm, the sheets came dangerously close to slapping me in the face. These three women (Anatavia Marie Brown, Ji-Ho Lee, and Bianca Hovey) played their parts with a pokerface and really wailed the cast members during the "storm."

The blocking was awkward and, while my view was blocked several times, it must have been worse for those seated behind one of the leading characters because throughout his conversations his face could not be seen. Surely Hoffman was aware of how some scenes would have obstructed views, which can only lead to the explanation that somehow these moments were less important than others.