McCullers-inspired 7 Stages drama wavers

Through Feb. 22. 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays; 5 p.m. Sunday (Feb. 15); 2 p.m. Sunday (Feb. 22); 10 a.m. Thursday (Feb. 12) and Wednesday (Feb. 18). $22-$25. 7 Stages, 1105 Euclid Avenue, Atlanta. 404-523-7647. www.7stages.org.

Bottom line: Passable.

More well-meaning than especially meaningful, 7 Stages’ “FML: How Carson McCullers Saved My Life” clearly earns points for confronting important topics such as teen bullying, sexual identity and the transformative power of creative expression. But it loses ground for going about it in a rather unremarkable, wishy-washy kind of way.

The play follows a prep-school student named Jo, a plucky and forward-thinking young lesbian and an aspiring graphic novelist/artist. At frequent intervals, artistic director Heidi S. Howard’s staging comes to vibrant life, generally involving a lot of snappy video projections, despite some technical glitches on opening night.

Howard and scenic designer Elisabeth Cooper utilize every square inch of the company’s tiny Back Stage studio space, effectively positioning the audience right in the thick of things. The seating area is configured like gymnasium bleachers. Different “chapters” unfold in a classroom, where a few of the students’ desks are interspersed among the front row of seats, or around a set of lockers or on a basketball court (of sorts). There’s even a loft in one corner of the space for depicting Jo’s home life.

Literally, from a production angle, the show covers considerable territory, with no room to spare. Figuratively, as written by Sarah Gubbins, “FML” (a bit of texting jargon that can’t be specified in a family newspaper) is all over the place in a more problematic sense. It’s a real letdown from the up-and-coming Chicago playwright whose sharp and sophisticated “Fair Use” was mounted by Actor’s Express in 2009.

Aspects of this script feel unfocused, veering off-course on disjointed, distracting tangents. Most pointless is the character of Jo’s older brother, a presumably cool and caring role model who’s (inconceivably) totally oblivious to his sister’s soul-searching. While other segments dote on two of Jo’s overdrawn classmates, the bullies tormenting her only pose a nominal threat – relegated to drawings in her sketchbook instead of a palpable presence in the story.

As Jo, newcomer Renita James may not be physically believable as a pivotal member of the school’s basketball team (never mind her iffy skills shooting hoops in a couple of scenes). She possesses an obvious energy and emotion that’s initially ingratiating. As Jo’s circumstances and outlook deepen, however, the actress seems to choke in terms of digging beneath the surface to fully capture or convey the spiritual connection and creative inspiration Jo finds in the sad, dejected misfits from the famous Carson McCullers novel “The Heart is a Lonely Hunter.”

Dorothy Bell is oddly reserved and removed as the influential English teacher who introduces Jo’s class to McCullers. Not that the part need be portrayed as an eccentric Miss Jean Brodie type, but it does require a certain impassioned “attitude” that’s sorely absent in Bell’s performance.

“I like how much the characters think (and) how much they don’t say,” Jo notes about the book. Somehow, the same applies to “FML”: the play’s thinking is right; it’s in the saying of it that things come undone.