As a critic, Night Is A Room, Naomi Wallace's new play now on stage at the Signature Theater, is somewhat of a challenge to write about. There isn't too much that can be revealed without, as I mention in my review of the show, compromising the plot, which hinges on a disturbing twist that throws into flux traditional conceptions of love, family, and fidelity. Suffice to say, the play is not one to strike audience members with lukewarm feelings, and whether audience members walk out or jump out of their seats in applause varies show by show. But if you're willing to offer yourself up to the story, and open your mind and heart, you are likely to come out of the theater profoundly challenged and moved.

At the heart of the storm is Dagmara Domińczyk as Lianna, a power-playing ad executive who revels in the well-rounded success of her life, making it all the more devastating as we watch it fracture and fall down around her. I was delighted to learn that Domińczyk is as thoughtful and passionate as she is talented, as she spoke to me about the powerful connection she formed with her cast mates and creative team, originating a role, coping with opinionated audiences, and learning how to politely tell your children that they won't be coming to see Mommy perform this time.

Could you tell us how you got involved with the project?

Well, a few months ago I got an email from my agent at UTA, and it said, "Hi, this is a new play. It's a bit fucked up, but I think you'll love it." And he was right on both accounts. And I read it in one sitting, and usually I don't do that. I'm a mom, and it takes me a while. But this one I couldn't put down. I loved the writing, I loved how fearless it was. And Naomi would hate me saying this, because she hates the word poetic, but it was! With the punctuation, and the breath, it's almost Shakespearian in its own small-scale way. Or like a Greek tragedy. And I thought the character was wonderful. And also a frightening thing to tackle, because there were aspects of her that I felt for and empathized with, but a lot of her was just not who I am at all -- the station in life and the way that she orchestrated the whole reunion [between Lianna's husband, Marcus, and his biological mother, Doré] is something that I would never dream of.

I was immediately into it, and it haunted me. It was an offer, so that was really exciting. I talked to [the director] Bill Rauch on the phone -- we had never met or anything -- and he just sounded like the kindest, most passionate man the way he spoke about the play and about the roles, and I could just tell over the phone that he would be completely nurturing, which is something this play really needed, a kind of a gentle hand, because it's so unique in a way, that kind of gentleness juxtaposed with the brutality of it. I felt very safe talking to him, and ready to tackle it, so I said yes. And we started rehearsal about two weeks after that.

Could you talk a little bit about how hands on director Bill Rauch and playwright Naomi Wallace were during the rehearsal process? Were you encouraged to develop the character as your own? 

Well, it was a little bit of both. It's interesting -- you know, Signature started as kind of a playwright's space. They honor the playwright very much. And I'm a writer too, so that really struck a chord with me. And I've never worked on a play before in tandem with the playwright and the director. Naomi was in rehearsals quite a lot, and they worked together beautifully - and they also know each other and respect each other. This is the first play they did together, but he [Rauch] was very familiar with Naomi's work. It was very interesting and also daunting to have the writer there, so that we could ask questions, you know the back stories and "well what does she mean exactly when she's saying this?" Part of that was really enlightening and kind of a gift and part of it was also frightening, because of course with a new play it's just a written work. And it's something to write something down and have another person act it out. Ann Dowd [who plays Doré] and I would say, we just don't know what we're doing here. Why are we saying this word? [Naomi] was very receptive, and would say, well, it's written this way, so let's figure out a way to make this work. There were lines that were changed a bit and certain moments.

What I really appreciated was, I had a bit of trouble in the beginning -- when I read it what I loved was that there was nothing about the physicality of the characters. Their demeanor was described, but not what they looked like. And for an actress, that's very refreshing. To read a play and not have it say, "Lianna, 42, slim, blonde." There was none of that, and it was really freeing. On the other hand, it was like, I know I have the stallion part down, but the upper class thing and then how she's so economical with her body and her gestures... I'm also an emotional person, and I react emotionally to most hints in my life. So in the beginning I would cry at every moment, and Naomi took me aside one day and said, 'let's work on this, this woman is trying to contain and compartmentalize her reaction, channel your strength.' So I would be wrong to say that it was easy-breezy, because it wasn't, but it was so rewarding. Bill was wonderful at being our advocate and also Naomi's advocate -- he walked that line beautifully. It was a very lovely rehearsal process. And a very calm one for as fraught as the material is and the story is. We were all there for each other and trying to tell the story and honor the story and I had a wonderful time and that fear dissipated and I just wanted to please the writer and my director.

How do you channel night after night such strong feelings of pain, of rage, what's your approach as an actress for getting to that point?

You know, this is the first time I've been in a play since college where I'm on stage the entire time. Which is really great and I love it, but on the other hand it's very draining. This play is super draining - I feel completely invigorated and completely exhausted every single night. There have been days where I walk in and I say "Ann" -- we share a dressing room -- "I don't think I can do it today." One day she said, "Just give into the fatigue. Tell yourself you don't have anything to give today, you're just going to go onstage and tell the words that you have been given to tell the story to the people watching, and that's it." That's all you can do. And it was a very kind of clean piece of advice, because that's all I try to do is go on the stage and use the words I've been given to tell the story. But because the play is so beautifully crafted and written, the story takes over. Nine out of ten times when I'm on that stage and like five, ten minutes in, as long as I listen and just give myself unto the storytelling, it happens -- those emotions come. It's when I start worrying about what I'm supposed to be feeling that I fuck myself. Our job as actors I think is to make people feel, but we don't make people feel because of what we feel, we make people feel because of what we're doing onstage. So I always have to remind myself, what are you doing here, not what are you feeling; the feelings will come from what you're trying to do to the other actor, to the other character. And also we've been given some great moments in the play -- they weren't written as "have a complete emotional breakdown," there was not even one stage direction "and now she cries," or anything like that. That just kind of comes when it comes. One time before I went on, I said, "Oh shit, I don't think I'm going to cry tonight." And the moment I let that thought in, I didn't. The story was told, and I was there, but I felt like such shit, and I reminded myself that whatever comes out of you as long as it is in the moment and as long as it's in response to what's happening on stage, however that will manifest itself, in tears or not tears, or laughter, it'll be okay. One show I really let that get to me, but since then I really don't think about it that much. I just really try to be present and let the story take over. And it really does.

Bill said right before previews, "We built a beautiful world, and we're in a container, and we're swimming around in this container; we built our little borders so we know what the story is. But within that container we can be fluid." Things will change. And that makes it alive and fresh every night.

You touch on another thought I have, which is that another major moving part is the audience that you get. My audience was particularly rowdy - gasping, laughing like crazy.  

The audiences are so interesting. In most plays you do, you can kind of count on knowing, they're with us tonight. This one, we learned very quickly on that we cannot bank on anything, because the reactions vary show to show. There have been shows that are dead silent, and we think, 'Oh shit, they just totally hate it.' And then at the end we get raucous applause. There have been shows that start off, 'Oh my god, they're laughing and they're with us,' and then really heavy silence. There have been people saying things out loud that we hear!

They're moved! And then there are some nights when we look down and the whole front row is asleep. It changes so much that you don't feel bad about the reaction because the story is so specific and so kind of out there and so shocking in a way, we can't fault people for reacting the way they do, because everyone brings to it their own life experience. And so some people will totally go along for the ride, and some people will resist and some people will walk out. It's a whole added and very alive element. As you're trying to be present on stage, you're still aware, and this is a very small stage, very intimate, so we hear every single yawn, or breath or gasp or sniffling -- we hear it all. You try to take it in without letting it sway you even though you respond to it, because you can't help it.

I haven't a friend who's seen it three times now, because she's crazy and she loves me and she says her favorite part now is watching people around her watch it for the first time. (Laughs) It's been fun to tell my friends, come see me and I'm not gonna tell you a single thing about it.

I was wondering about your strategy for mentally preparing for these intense physical moments.  Do you have to try to block out the audience?

I'm aware of them, and it's for them. But, not to sound selfish, but we're allowing them to take a look into these people's lives. So I appreciate them and love them, but I don't give them that kind of -- not power -- but I guess influence.

There are moments every night that are so intense that you kind of forget about the audience, and that's when you know you've really been doing your job. You want people to go away moved, or you want people to think about their life or think about things in a different way. That's why we do it, otherwise we could just do it in a living room. We do it for people. but because of the nature of the story a lot of people aren't going to be on board. I remember one moment, Ann was in a very kind of vulnerable moment on stage, and quit visibly in tears and was talking to Lianna, and Lianna had this very 'eh' reaction, like I didn't give a shit, and the audience laughed. And I remember we got off stage and Ann was so upset: "They don't get it, they don't understand me, they're laughing at me." We do a good job consoling each other, and I have to remind her -- as she reminds me a lot too -- some people will not want to go there and empathize. They won't, they're just voyeurs. But we cannot blame them or fault them for it. Some people will never get what happens between Marcus and Doré or between Lianna and Doré.

Several people in their seventies and eighties have come up to me and said, "This is one of the best things I've ever seen. It is so moving, thank you so much." And it makes you feel really good when you hear that. New York audiences who have been going to the theater for decades who say, "I will not soon forget this" -- it's really a nice thank you to hear

I'm trying to think about the word you said -- strategy. I don't really have a strategy. It just kind of takes you over. Ann and I like to read poetry before we go on. And we read some poems and we close the book and then we just say, "Love you!" And we go onstage and we do it. That's it really.

It sounds like building such a powerful connection between your fellow actors, and Bill Rauch, and Naomi Wallace has really made this like a family. 

It really is true, and we wonder about the play and in the hands [of other people], you know we feel very protective over it now. But I guess when you originate a role or when you tell the story for the first time you hope it has life beyond you, but also worry like, oh god in the hands of people not equipped... or (laughing) I don't know... I told Bill the director and Bill [Heck] the actor, in the hands of the wrong people this play would be a fucking disaster. (Laughing) I mean it could be awful!

I love Bill Heck, he's one of the kindest and most selfless actors I've ever worked with. He's such a family man and so enthusiastic and such a good actor. And Ann and I... I don't know, it's like we feel like we've known each other all our lives. I feel like Ann and I will know each other for the rest of our lives. She teaches me so much every day, just by who she is and her attitude and what she's gone through in her own life and the kind of actress she is and the kind of mother she is. I'm like a sponge around her. I've told her that plenty of actresses have written memoirs, and 'Hi! You're next.' She's so wise and so accessible and we just hold each other up on that stage. I don't know how it would have worked if other people had been cast or this particular dynamic wasn't happening. Because it really does help when you trust someone so completely and you love them. It's much easier to be at odds with them on the stage and battle them knowing that you love them deep down inside.

So what's coming up for you? Maybe some well deserved rest? 

I've been vetting opportunities for other plays now, but after this I need... going into this, my husband's an actor too, and he was shooting an movie in LA and London the exact dates of this play and rehearsal. I quit smoking a week in, too, because I gave myself a date. I quit smoking, my husband left, my dog died, it was just the fucking worst... (laughing) but I guess that's where all of that emotion was coming from. I had an outlet for it.

And I just finished writing my second novel a few days before I started rehearsal, so that worked out nice, so after this is done I'll be editing it and then hoping to sell it again. And I feel like there's stuff that's coming out, but I don't even remember, I don't know! I'm just going to sit home and do nothing.

Relish in the normalcy of your family.

No, really! You know, my nine-year-old son -- I have two boys, six and nine -- and they both are very into movies and the arts and he saw Golden Boy, which I did like three years ago on Broadway, and he loved it, just loved it. And he keeps saying, "Why can't I see this one Mommy?" Well it's like... NC-17. And I kind of gave him the PG version of the basic, basic plot. "But when's it gonna come out on DVD so I can watch it when I'm 18?" Well, I don't know if it's gonna come out on DVD...

He FaceTimed me between shows and he said, "Were you good? Were you good today?" And my six-year-old, his friend came over one day and he said to me, "Wait a minute, you do the same play every night?" Yep, every night. "Doesn't that get so boring?"

He couldn't quite wrap his head around it... we do the same play, with the same words, every night.