Various casts have had a crack at deciphering what Albee was up to, and this one is an effective ensemble that offers special appeal and a reason for seeing the production. Albee’s plays are always a challenge, as they demand attention to his rhythms and are laced with acerbic dialogue and sometimes metaphysical ideas. Albee has often tended to entice audiences to ponder his meanings, resulting in stimulating discussions.

Glenn Close and John Lithgow play Agnes and Tobias, an upscale wife and husband living with regrets and fears in an appropriately upscale home, as elegantly designed by Santo Loquasto. They are haunted by the untimely death of their son, sleep in separate bedrooms and sex appears to be a thing of the past. For a good way Tobias’s main function is mixing drinks in this heavily imbibing household.

But in the play’s climactic moments Lithgow, astute actor that he is, tears loose as Tobias to reveal how much emotion he is capable of when long-simmering feelings and concerns rush to the surface. It is a performance that keeps building to a peak and makes for a standout turn worthy of award consideration.

As for her character, Close is slyly convincing as the matriarch who manages to look in control, and Albee has given the character some zinger lines that break through her veneer. She has one speech in which she amusingly, and somewhat bitterly, wonders what it would be like if she had been a man. She also speaks of death, and while she pours out her unhappiness, she at one point expresses some tenderness toward Tobias in memory of what their relationship may once have held. But basically, Agnes is a dissatisfied wife and mother with a sharp tongue. Close is especially good in handling a long, revealing statement of her take on the life she has been living. Agnes also suspects Tobias of having had an affair, and while we wonder if there might have been one with his sister-in-law, the issue is never resolved.

Staying with them is Agnes’s sister Claire, played by the superb actress Lindsay Duncan. She loves to drink and is adept at spewing Albee’s brittle dialogue. Her nasty edge carries its share of humor, as well as enlivens the drama. (Albee can be quite funny even when dealing with serious issues.) Martha Plimpton is especially outstanding as Julia, the daughter of Agnes and Tobias. She comes home after the break-up of the most recent of her four marriages accumulated even though she is only 36 years old. Julia explodes with anger when, expecting to have what was her room, she finds it occupied by two family friends, Harry and Edna. She wants them to leave and at one point brandishes a gun.

It is Harry and Edna who symbolize what Albee would appear to be driving at in the play. Skillfully played by Bob Balaban and Clare Higgins, they have arrived at the house uninvited, presuming on the friendship with Tobias and Agnes, with the intention of staying with them because of an unexplained, terrifying fear of being where they are. By bringing this fear into the already shaken family, they are regarded as coming with a plague that can be infectious. Harry and Edna have enough fears of their own, but it is difficult to say no to their friends. At one point it looks as if they may leave, but it is only to fetch and bring back their belongings.

A key issue is whether to tell Harry and Edna to stay or go. Tobias has a split reaction. Although he doesn’t want them to stay, at first he hypocritically urges them to remain. The concept of fear being contagious hovers over the last act of the three-act play, and it is here that Albee injects the crisis that appears more metaphorical than realistic.