Poe, Brook Photo by Craig Schwartz

There is music and there are songs, but this is not a musical. There are ghosts, but this is not a ghost fable. There is a plot, but this is not the point.

It is much easier to say what Whisper House is not than to decipher what it is.  The rambling world premiere production on San Diego's Old Globe Theatre stage features an Emmy Award-winning actor (Mare Winningham), a Tony Award-winning composer (Duncan Sheik) and an experienced director (Jason Hart).  Michael Schweikardt's scenic design is brilliant, with scrims and foggy shadows that define the mood around the huge spiral staircase.

It would seem that this play-about-something-that-could-be-illogical-fears had a lot going for it. But, as any chef knows, a collection of ingredients does not, in itself, make an inspiring dish.  In this case, plopping all the best into a pot and stirring it occasionally has created a less than flavorful stew. Kyle Jarrow's book and lyrics need serious adjustments.

Take the songs. The 8-member orchestra conducted by Jason Hart produces sounds that are somewhat haunting, in a rock 'n' roll kind of way, rather fun, and innovative.  The words, delivered by the two ghosts (a daring Holly Brook and an energetic David Poe), serve to tell tales of ghastly episodes and to warn the audience of mayhem to come.  In that latter vein, they resemble the admonitions and announcements of the Greek chorus, moving the play along and offering some audio variety.  On opening night, the sounds were more banshee than spectral, however, as the mikes produced screeching that threatened to do severe eardrum damage. Corrections later in the evening made the sounds more bearable. Yet, there are problems with the story-telling purpose. "The Tale of Solomon Snell," a long, windy number about a man buried alive, is one example. It makes no sense to those who do not know the reasons behind the Victorian penchant for coffins with bells attached.

The bells are a contrivance throughout the play.  Because the context for their peals, dings, and clangs is lacking in the script, they become noises without nuance.

The storyline is simple enough.  Set in WWII New England, the play focuses on Lilly (Mare Winningham), a lighthouse keeper, and her adolescent nephew Christopher (a wooden, but promising - he works so hard that he will surely grow into the role - A.J. Foggiano), who has come to live with her after the death of his aviator father and the mental breakdown of his mother.  Lilly has no experience with children, so their initial meeting and adjusting brings some welcome and delightful humor to the plot. As the plot thickens, Lilly shows that taking in is not the same thing as taking care. Changing and adapting is not something that she is wont to do, so poor Christopher is left to his own fears and devices.

Lilly's philosophy about fear is that it should never prevent one from achieving, yet it becomes clear that she would rather talk the talk than walk beyond her own mental and physical self-imposed confinement. The play's primary theme is fear. The ghosts that haunt each of the characters are reminders of what is lost by fearing to embrace the life-altering powers of change and chance.

Christopher's fears are justified and obvious. Who wouldn't be scared of the dark and the deep, given his recent history?  And his newfound benefactor does nothing to help allay them.

Lilly has taken over and run a lighthouse for  many years, so we can assume that she is not a stupid or incompetent woman, but her character as written is densely imperceptive.  Ok, so she has never been around children. But come on, it doesn't take a child psychologist to understand that this kid has had some serious trauma, including his current residential upheaval, and deserves communication and attention beyond "You ask too many questions" and bowls of sugarless oatmeal. An accomplished actor who can wring tears from a dry Kleenex when she has a decent part, Winningham makes the best of this unlikeable character, and her New England accent seems to fall easily off her tongue.  But she has been given too little to do and not much to accomplish in Lilly's stoic pessimism.  Until the final scenes, this agoraphobic and self-centered woman presents as patently unlikeable, except to the sheriff who hates her coffee but may be keen on her.

That her boarder and hired hand Yasuhiro (Arthur Acuna) falls in love with her is one of the play's unintentional mysteries. An immigrant from Japan, Yasuhiro has a story that could provide a much-needed depth to the play.  But his motivations are only touched upon, and his character, while touchingly wrought by Acuna, becomes just a symbol of American guilt and prejudice. Lilly realizes, much too late, that she has missed the transformative power of love.

Her fears have held her captive in her own little tower. In the long aftermath of 9-11 and its sequels of terrors and TSAs, we can relate. As each of the characters discovers, Franklin D. Roosevelt was right. Fear of fear is frightful.

But so is this play's hasty and trite resolution. The last scene shows a penitent, rather pitiful Lilly, who has missed the chance to love and to save others and herself. In the end, we see that Charles, the Sheriff, (a stoic Ted Koch) has missed the chance to become more than a friend to Lilly. Lieutenant Rando (a stilted Kevin Hoffmann) has missed the point of anything at all.  And Christopher has learned, much too late, to make his apologies meaningful, that things are not always what they seem.

Despite the dreariness of San Diego's recently stormy weather, this play's serving of theatrical stew is not comfort food.

"Whisper House" plays on The Old Globe stage in San Diego's Balboa Park through Feb. 21. Performances: Tues-Weds at 7pm; Thurs-Sat at 8pm; Sun at 7pm. Matinees on Sat & Sun at 2 pm. Tickets are $36-89.  Discounts for students, youth, seniors and groups. Reservations: at www.TheOldGlobe.org or 619-23-GLOBE.