‘Only Light in Reno’ could be brighter

7:30 p.m. Wednesdays. 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays. 4 p.m. Saturdays. 2:30 p.m. Sundays. Through Jan. 26. $22-$35. Georgia Ensemble Theatre, 950 Forrest St., Roswell. 770-641-1260, get.org.

Bottom line: Frothy fun.

The last time we encountered Broadway chanteuse Libby Holman, she was fast on her way to becoming America’s most celebrated black widow. Holman’s husband, Zachary Smith Reynolds, an heir to the R.J. Reynolds tobacco fortune, had died of a mysterious gunshot wound, and the 28-year-old Jewish femme fatale was the prime suspect.

That was last January. The play was Topher Payne’s “Swell Party” at Georgia Ensemble Theatre, and the young Holman was played by Atlanta actress Suehyla El-Attar.

Fast-forward a year, and Holman is back at Georgia Ensemble in Payne’s latest work, “The Only Light in Reno.” This time, Holman, portrayed by venerable scenery chomper Shelly McCook, is a crusty and caustic observer on the sidelines of cinematic history. It’s 1960, and as a forest fire rages around Reno, director John Huston’s “The Misfits” — starring notorious Hollywood messes Marilyn Monroe and Montgomery Clift — is on the verge of going up in flames with it.

In case you are wondering what Holman had to do with “The Misfits,” it turns out she was a real-life friend of Clift.

But while “Swell Party” was undeniably Holman’s show, here she faces considerable competition from the verklempt Marilyn (Rachel Sorsa); Marilyn’s acting coach, Paula Strasberg (Elizabeth A. Genge); the sourly swishy Clift (Johnny Drago); and Elizabeth Taylor (Kate Donadio), who arrives in Reno for the premiere of Monroe’s film, “Let’s Make Love.” While Marilyn’s marriage to Arthur Miller (who was the screenwriter for “The Misfits”) is crumbling, Taylor has just hooked up with Eddie Fisher — to the dismay of Debbie Reynolds and the delight of tabloids everywhere.

Not much happens in “Reno.” But it sure makes a delicious setup for a nonstop catfight. Taylor and Holman, you see, get along like oil and water. Marilyn’s a mess. And the women all adore Monty.

Payne has a remarkable talent for taking a few threads of historical fact and weaving them into something wholly original and entertaining. He dispenses pithy, Coward-style one-liners with gay aplomb, while investing these larger-than-life personalities with complex emotional interiors. Thus, for all its giddy glamour, “The Only Light in Reno” appears to be a study of personal pain and public sting.

The problem here is that Payne can’t seem to leave anything out, and it’s hard to discern whose story this is exactly. Though director Shannon Eubanks thankfully manages to keep this ambitious, multifaceted script moving forward, we are subjected to the many issues, onstage and off, of Marilyn, Monty, Liz and Libby. Even Strasberg struggles with a personal matter, though she masks it by playing Marilyn’s baby sitter.

I enjoyed “Reno” but couldn’t help but wonder how it would have benefited from a stronger cast and smarter design. Indeed, the performances range from superbly effortless (McCook) to awkwardly amateurish (Genge).

It can’t be easy playing icons like Marilyn and Liz. Sorsa tries to do her best Marilyn imitation, and though she wobbles, she is charming and funny. Donadio doesn’t seem very Liz-like to me, vocally at least, but she transcends that weakness to sketch a portrait of a person who is poised and magnetic. The scene in which the unapologetically sloppy Libby calls out the gleamingly polished Liz is kind of wonderful.

While Monty may not be as familiar to contemporary audiences, film aficionados will have a clear idea of his demeanor, and Drago seems way off to me. His Monty is insufferably whiny and arch — not unbearable but close. And it seems like designers Abby Parker (costumes) and Jonathan Rollins (sets) could have summoned smarter togs and digs for this glamorous bunch.

“Reno” reads with all the guilty pleasure of a Hollywood gossip rag. But for all its naughty repartee, the darker material never quite coalesces, and it ends up feeling a bit thin.