By Carolyn Hayes

Pick at a scab long enough, and you’ll uncover the wound. “This Is How it Goes,” by Neil LaBute, is no stranger to underlying unpleasantness, be it racism or marital conflict, digging in to nasty mindsets with mature themes and salty language to match. In choosing to include this boundary-pushing text in its 43rd season, University of Detroit Mercy Theatre Company is essentially grabbing its commitment to “mirror what is transpiring in our culture” and achieve “a deeper understanding centered on social justice” by the horns.

Admittedly, such an undertaking is as commercially risky as it is artistically venerable. Yet under the direction of Greg Grobis, this equally caustic and humorous production shows that opening up a conduit into the worst of ourselves can be as wildly amusing as it is critically revealing.

The story is alternately about, told by, and commented on by a Man (Patrick O’Connor Cronin), who guides the audience through the events as they happened – or, perhaps, will happen, or are currently happening. That the Man is as unclear about the device as the viewer is the first indication that this world exists beyond a narrator’s ultimate control; the compulsion to recount the tale feels somehow bigger than the people in it.

Thus, between these far-removed bridging confessionals, a series of vignettes begins that reunites the Man with his high school crush, Belinda (Claire Hardy), and inserts him into her life with fellow classmate Cody (Henri D. Franklin), whom she married.

The representative feel of the reenactments is emphasized in a storybook-inspired concept by scenic, costume and properties designer Melinda Pacha, who uses three oversized easels to quickly swap out line-drawn backdrops and limits the physical realms to the essentials. Further anti-realism comes from snappy lighting cues (by designer Rudy Schuepbach) that keep time with the Man’s abrupt and tonally distinct asides.

However extreme, the compartmentalized nature of the design works to further divide the highly subjective, analytical narrative segments from the more opaque and objective scene work. Without the benefit of clarification, these interactions are laid open to interpretation as layers are peeled back to reveal ever-more illuminating layers, exploring attitudes about race, class, marriage and social blinders.

As one of very few black residents of their Midwest town, Cody is particularly mindful of his public image and vast professional success, which has contributed to longstanding tensions between him and his white wife and pits him against the Man’s irreverent humor. And here, no subject is immune from scrutiny – the characters refuse to let taboo-skirting platitudes lie, stopping at nothing but total candor.

With no revelation left unearthed, no character here emerges entirely good; each betrays some kind of private ugliness, often in surprising ways. Even more importantly, however, none of the characters can be dismissed as simply bad; despite grave missteps, their humanity and complexity prevails. It’s a tricky feat, but one that succeeds here through skillful balance in direction and performance.

The production is characterized by an affably loose feel, verging at times on sloppy. But what it lacks in sharpness, it makes up in a remarkable fluidity between unbearable discomfort and tension-severing comedy, especially in its adversarial male actors. At first blush a harmlessly irreverent joker, Cronin’s Man loses and wins back favor on the strength of his disarming, exceptional averageness, stumbling and backtracking through his storytelling duties.

Conversely, the stoic Franklin easily folds comedy into his conflict, brightening a stern portrayal without losing any of its well-earned gravitas.

Hardy, on the other hand, exudes plaintive sweetness as the lonely, bored, tepidly rebellious stay-at-home mom, but lacks venom when called upon to exude assertion or derision; her words feel borrowed and ill-fitting in the midst of climactic build.

Ultimately, “This Is How it Goes” follows through on its intention to challenge and provoke the viewer, leaving an indelible impression that should extend past its two-plus hours. With a daring script selection and bold production choices to match, Grobis and company bravely force the issues at hand, addressing sensitive and often offensive topics with a unique buzz of seriocomic intensity.

While the show title is taken from the Man’s mouth as he prefaces each scene, there is a deeper suggestion hovering at the edges: Is this a comment on some kind of larger inevitability? Are the events of the play to be accepted as merely “how it goes,” these patterns and responses imprinted on us individually and as a community? Or can they be changed?

It’s fitting that the play is cited as taking place “yesterday,” as it shows considerable power to make viewers contemplate the kind of “today” they’d like to make.