You would hope that by the year 2012, the American public would be fairly well educated about the Holocaust. In addition to the historical records and stories from survivors, there have been countless works of art that have illuminated that dark chapter in human history. And yet, according to Michael Arve, director of the production of Arthur Miller's "Incident at Vichy" currently on stage at MuCCC, he received several "disturbing messages" on the reservation phone line saying that the Holocaust is a myth. It is remarkable how far the human mind can go in rationalizing and distorting the facts to suit individual realities.

That is, ironically, one of the points that "Incident at Vichy" drives home. Set in German-occupied France during World War II, the show's specifics deal with the Holocaust. But its themes and messages go much deeper, beyond a specific place or time. It raises questions about how people - even, to an extent, the victims - can go along with such seemingly unthinkable horrors, some of which are still happening today. It is a powerful, thought-provoking work that has lost none of its relevancy.

"Incident at Vichy" takes place in real time, in just one scene, in just one place: a holding room in Nazi-occupied France in the early 1940's. The play opens with nearly a dozen men getting rounded up off the streets and placed in the room without any explanation. Slowly, the men, led by the artist Lebeau (Kevin Indivino), try to piece together why they are being held (hint: it has to do with their religion), and what it could mean for them given the rumors swirling around Europe about Germany's labor camps in Austria. Some of the men smugly argue that the idea of death camps could not possibly be true. It's inhuman, for one, and impractical for another - why would the Nazis waste free labor? Some get increasingly hysterical as the potential finality of the situation sinks in. Some say nothing at all. And some start to think about escape.

While the situation itself is intense, the real drama of the play comes from watching the characters react to their plight and interact with one another. It's not a particularly rosy portrait of humanity. Classism and racism rear their heads almost immediately in several ugly, petty displays, even among the potential victims themselves. Certain characters embrace their fatalism, while others talk themselves in and out of accepting what's going on instead of fighting against it. And most interestingly, the Nazi soldier assigned to oversee the proceedings (with the help of a spectacularly creepy turn by Jim Valone as the "professor" in charge of the "examinations") wrestles with his conscience in the face of his unspeakable orders.

Given that "Incident at Vichy" is basically all dialogue - there are no scene changes, and very little action - it requires a cast capable of delivering Miller's exacting, insightful words. The large cast put together for this production is, for the most part, up to the task. Several members of the 15-man cast have practically no lines, while others carry the bulk of the show. Especially impressive are David Spiro as the psychiatrist Leduc, Roger Gans as the Austrian Wilhelm Von Berg, Tom Bigiongiari as the actor Monceau, Carl Webeck as the German officer, and Jamie Burrows as Bayard the electrician.

Spiro is relatable, exuding a detached intellectual curiosity in his role as the imprisoned psychiatrist. It's a pivotal role, essentially prompting the rest of the captives to express and defend their arguments, and then checking and rechecking the mental somersaults they all go through (including himself). Spiro executes it all nearly without flaw, and his heavy late-play conversations with Gans' Austrian prince are so understated that they remain believable. (A minor note: toward the end of the show I attended, Spiro started to deliver some of his lines with his back toward the audience, making him difficult to hear.)

Gans is noble and aristocratic through and through; he never breaks character for even a second. Even when he says nothing, Bigiongiari's actor character projects an air of snooty prissiness, and that's a compliment. Carl Webeck manages to make a Nazi at least partially sympathetic, which is no easy task. And Jamie Burrows does the proletariat proud with his thoughtful, observant electrician.

The trick with a play so reliant on dialogue is that every line must be delivered exactly right. At the production I saw the rhythms had a tendency to go slightly off, especially in the beginning of the play, robbing the proceedings of a bit of intensity. This got better as the number of actors on the stage dwindled. Additionally, there were several minor line-reading bobbles - nothing major, but enough to tell that the actor was stumbling over his words. It's understandable given the complicated script, but it's a reminder to the audience that they are watching a play, instead of existing as part of a living, breathing scene.

Note that select performances - including Thursday, January 12, and Saturday, January 14 - will feature post-play talkbacks with survivors of the Holocaust.

"Incident at Vichy"

John W. Borek Presents

Through January 14

MuCCC, 142 Atlantic Ave.

$10-$20 | 234-1254, muccc.org