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We learn that Bobby is a crude, ignorant wife-beating slob who dislikes his sister. We see Betty as a college dean and aging married with children beauty who has a past enlivened with much promiscuity. Betty’s sexual encounters still haunt her. As the two siblings rant at one another gradually Bobby gets to the truth of why he is helping his sister clear out a cabin late night during a thunder storm. The cabin is full of lies as nothing is as it seems and the truth refuses to be discarded with all the books.

Formatted as a play-within-a play, the cast members are both participants as Numberless and sympathizers with them. The plot is cliched, trite and predictable – a contemporary “Mad Max” style rock fantasy. The players are manic, hyper sensitive and over-the-top; the singing consists of screaming and mind-numbing garbled harmonies. I’m can’t find anything artistic or stage worthy to justify spending $20 -$25 and 90 minutes of your time attending Rise of the Numberless

The two are alienated by a bitter divorce that finds Denny only spending weekends with his dad, Ky. On their sixty mile journey from Denny’s soccer game to Ky’s home, the two awkwardly try to communicate but bitterness and teenage angst get in the way. Denny resents his father who tries, fumbles actually, to relate to his son. Ky is totally out of touch with Denny and the more he tries, the more resistant and awkward Denny feels. There are many funny and poignant moments filled with natural dialogue that gets us to hope that Ky will somehow relate to young Denny.

Director Brandon Bruce (also with Christine Scarfuto adapted the play) found some theatrically interesting staging techniques to spice up the dark story of misuse of power, revenge, the status of women, cruelty, and incest. Utilizing a five man chorus, dressed on ancient white togas, the chorus underscored the show’s action, delivered songs, made suggestive movements and acted-out several characters including mad-men.

Less successful is what happens between these speeches when Callow, in quiet, informal chat mode, fills in the background and history supplied by historian/author John Bates. The problem is neither with the history nor the resulting monologues, but with their delivery. Perhaps the theater is just too large and cavernous a hall. Perhaps Callow was tired on opening night..

Buoyed on the back of some affecting performances and a haunting lesson, Steppenwolf’s “The March” rises above its flaws for the most part. It’s a multi-faceted look at all strata of life in the late days of a war and the infamous man, his march and the people left in the ruination.