A strong ensemble cast makes this revival of A Lie of the Mind into an enthralling evening of theater ... but also a maddening midnight. By hour three, the background bluegrass is annoying, the limited staging grows stifling, and we're dying for a climax. Buried Child is more efficient, but Shepard's writing here, particularly when focused on Beth (and the excellent Laura Schwenninger, who plays her), makes one want to linger languorously in the language. I just wish the third act weren't so reliant on theatrical metaphor: Daryl Boling doesn't even fully render the transitions between the two tragic lovers; the leap into "stage-time" is awkward and the lies of the mind don't have enough life to them. I recommend it anyway, for the outstanding performances and the intimate theater, but watch your blood sugar levels for Act 3.