Desperelics, a one man show written and performed by Alex Lyras and developed and directed by Robert McCaskill, introduces us to seven vibrant, intriguing, and passionate characters that a typical New Yorker will find none to familiar. But what is most uncommon about this refreshing evening of theatre is the care and effort that Lyras has invested in the show. The term self-indulgent, all too frequently descriptive of Off Off Broadway productions of original work, has no place here.

From the slick, multidimensional set to the otherworldly lighting, to the mesmerizing guitar accompaniment, every aspect of Desperelicsgives its audience more of what they came for while never failing to complement the writing and performing at its core. The characters who populate Lyras' imagination are many and varied.

The evening opens, "Terminator-style", with an eerily lit stage and a bespectacled figure, shrouded in darkness. This mysterious personality, we learn, is a former Columbia philosophy professor with a comically inflated self-perception who has recently been demoted, for "minor" sexual indiscretions, to the obscurity of teaching night classes at a continuing education center. He is followed by a Brooklyn fitness instructor more interested in a life-or-death game than in his overweight charge; a homebody dealing "product" out of a tackle box, and not always the kind you'd expect; a young but fading fast corporate refugee whose lofty goals are undermined by his questionable ambitions; and a poorly aging Jewish princess, from somewhere in darkest Long Island, who prefers her decaf black and her smokes with meat.

The evening concludes with two characters who are probably closer to home for Lyras: a youngs urban male recovering from a Blade Runner romance with the assistance of Jack Daniels, and an aging immigrant exhorting his grandson to never forget the contributions Greeks have made to dining culture. The sketches develop nicely, and are filled with the kind of gems that accuratley reflect the range of human absurdity. But these seven are no caricatures. Lyras clearly loves his menagerie, and invests them with the kind of vulnerability that keeps us on their side, no matter how disgusting their actions or reprehensible their attitudes. And just as importantly, Lyras respects their stories far too much to give them away all at once. Each character keeps his cards close to his chest, revealing each one slowly, purposefully. As a result, out attentions are with him with each new revelation, as we wonder just what else he holds in his hand. Apparent weaknesses often turn around and surprise us by becoming inherent components of character. The incomprehensible beginnings of the philosophy professor's rant, for example, let us know what it feels like to be one of his students, while the disconnected and meandering tale of the corporate drone becomes a metaphor for the man himself.

As the sole occupant of the stage for ninety uninterrupted minutes, Lyras does a marvelous job of holding our attentions. His performance is alive, spontaneous, and compassionate, and is fueled by a boundless energy that kept the audience chattering well after the show's conclusion.

There is much to enjoy in Desperelics,more than theater-goers will find in many shows at five times the price. Lyras seems to have poured one-hundred percent of all his talents into the production, and his care and compassion come through loud and clear. The show has recently been extended through March 1, so you have a few more weekends to catch an evening of theatre as rare Off Off Broadway as the standing ovation that will likely follow it.