By Kathi Scrizzi Driscoll

Dashiell Hammett makes all the difference in "Lillian."

William Luce's one-woman play is about legendary playwright/author/activist Lillian Hellman, but much of it concentrates on her 30-year romance with Hammett, writer of such detective fiction as "The Thin Man" and "The Maltese Falcon." Anyone hoping to learn more about Hellman as writer will have to look elsewhere — her Broadway successes with such plays as "The Little Foxes" and "The Children's Hour" are mentioned only in passing.

But focusing on her time with Hammett proves to be a good choice to make Hellman likable and more approachable: Actress Cait Langstaff's portrayal is forceful and often hard-edged when discussing other aspects of Hellman's life. When she talks of Hammett, however, her expression and voice soften and her face shines with a clear, palpable love — even when she is heartbrokenly railing against his "casual women" and stubbornness.

Langstaff is never less than commanding in the Hellman role. She makes the 90-minute, two-act piece seem like a natural conversation with a formidable woman as we join her in the waiting room of a hospital where Hammett is dying of cancer. She ably switches demeanors and accents as she becomes other characters for her storytelling, and is particularly entertaining when she recounts running away as a child in New Orleans after a slight by her father.

The script by Luce ("The Belle of Amherst") is more focused when concentrating on Hellman's memories of Hammett, and the connection to their appearances before the House Un-American Activities Committee in the '50s. His choices of moments from Hellman's childhood seem random and not particularly telling, though — and one has to wonder why those are there when so much of what was a full, fascinating life is not. The play opens with a leap into early stories from Hellman's life with little introduction or explanation, but settles into a rhythm once the connection with Hammett is made.

The play is set in 1961 (though that's not made clear in the program), and the actress is dressed in a white-trimmed beige suit with two-tone pumps, and a wig in a short, curled style of the time. Although Langstaff doesn't look old enough (and isn't) to have had a 30-year romance, she is so convincing that that realization will likely come to most theatergoers only after they drive away from the Payomet tent — if they think about it at all.

Director Ted Kazanoff keeps Langstaff moving, nervously prowling the waiting room as she reminisces and acts out her memories without making the actions seem forced. Her use of cigarettes as a main prop, however, is less successful. While they give Langstaff something to do with her hands and allow a stance that immediately signals Hellman's tough demeanor, they are not actually lit and so "burn down" at an unrealistically slow pace as Langstaff carries them around for long monologues, only occasionally stopping to puff or snuff them out.

Extra kudos go to Langstaff, though, for persevering Sunday night during a thunderous downpour. She didn't miss a beat, but only raised her voice in a way consistent with Hellman's emotions so she could be heard above the deluge of rain on the tent roof.