Sam Shepard’s darkly funny and tragic family drama Curse of the Starving Class premiered in London in 1977 and then Off-Broadway at the Public Theater in 1978, winning an Obie Award for Best Play. Bruce Beresford direct a 1996 film version starring James Woods and Kathy Bates. It has been revived by Signature Theater Company in 2019. Despite this relatively recent production and its age, a new staging in Signature’s theater complex by a different company (The New Group), Curse does not feel repetitive or dated to the late 70s thanks to a muscular production by New Group artistic director Scott Elliott. When this unflinching portrait of the symbolic disintegration of the American Dream and the nuclear family was first produced, the country was reeling from Watergate and the first major spell of mass disillusion with our trusted institutions. In 2019, we were sharply divided by Trump’s populism and politics of rage. Now we are even more shattered and conflicted and Shepard’s bleak vision feels especially relevant.

The basic plot echoes the works of Chekhov, Williams and O’Neill with the dysfunctional Tate clan clawing each other over the fate of their home and ranch in California (Arnulfo Maldonado designed the hyper-realistic kitchen set.) Alcoholic dad Weston (a grizzled Christian Slater) plans to sell off the land in order to pay his enormous debts, mostly for bar tabs and restoring antique cars. Mother Ella (appropriately desperate and harried Calista Flockhart) has similar designs, but wants to use the profits to flee to a fantasy life in Europe. Their two children, Wesley (a zombie-like Cooper Hoffman) and Emma (razor-sharp Stella Marcus) seek to establish their own identities in different ways. Wesley wants to stay on the land and make it work while Emma, like her mom, indulges in elaborate dreams of escape involving fishing boats and becoming a mechanic.

Shepard uses the clashes of the Tates to develop his themes of alienation and disconnection from American society. No one trusts banks, institutes, or the country at large. When asked to describe a slick real-estate dealer (appropriately glib Kyle Beltran) looking to purchase the family spread, Emma tartly replies, “You know, ordinary, like a crook.” Also, the family is caught in an economic squeeze, unable to make their land pay. Ella often exclaims they are not starving, but not rich either. “We’re somewhere in the middle,” she declares. They are constantly opening the refrigerator, seeking sustenance which is hardly ever there. There are myriad images and references to food, eating and livestock. Emma has been saving a chicken to dissect for her 4-H Club, but Ella boiled it before the demonstration. Wesley brings a live sheep onstage (In one of the few instances of miscasting, Lois the animal actor appears a bit too well-fed for her role.)

Elliott has added an interesting detail: the parents are frequently reaching for pills to calm themselves down, perhaps a reference to the opioid addiction crisis. Ella confides to the audience that they are victims of a generational “curse,” keeping them at the bottom of the economic ladder (note the sameness of the characters’ first names, indicating a perpetuation of financial bad luck.) Similarly, Weston reveals he dug himself into a hole because of promises of “invisible money” (loans, credit cards, etc.) The Tates are the American family—hungry, broke, and soon to be homeless.

Elliott and his expert cast do not stress these themes, but the actors play the individual moments of despair and longing. Each are trying to get out of their individual trap and their objectives are forcefully conveyed. Though Slater and Flockhart seem too young for their parent roles, they beautifully inhabit them and ignite the rage which fuels their blighted dreams. Hoffman buries Wesley’s anger deep inside a shell-shocked exterior, letting it explode occasionally and making the eruption all the more powerful. The most chilling scene, masterfully staged by Elliott, takes place between Slater and Hoffman as estranged father and son. Like so many other Shepard dads and children, they are unable to communicate. Separated by a huge kitchen island, they fling accusations at each other, longing for connection and unable to make any. Marcus ably captures Emma’s caustic, spiky pique and fevered imagination. Beltran, Jeb Kreager, and David Anzuelo complete the tight ensemble with wry humor.

Perhaps the most telling elements of this Curse is the fact that the live sheep Lois does not upstage her human castmates. This is a gripping revival and should establish the play as one of the most important and revelatory of the late 20th century.

While Curse of the Starving Class explores America’s blighted domestic scene, Rajiv Joseph’s Dakar 2000 from Manhattan Theater Club, delivers a searing indictment of its foreign policy. This taut, effective two-hander combines elements of romantic comedy, spy thriller, and thoughtful drama. May Adrales’ staging blends suspense, laughs, and pathos.

The story is set in the titular Senegalese capital in the final days of 1999 when the world is on edge due to the irrational fear that Y2K will cause a massive computer outage and the edge of civilization. A seemingly feckless Peace Corps volunteer nicknamed Boubs crosses paths with Dina, a hardened State Department official. Boubs has apparently misappropriated building materials meant to fortify his lodging against imminent local threats. He intends to build a community garden instead. Dina reveals she has lost cherished colleagues in a recent bomb attack on an American embassy. As the two get closer, each manipulates the other to gain their own ends and one must reevaluate their most basic values. The conflict between Boubs and Dina symbolizes the strain between America’s urge to help the developing world and the necessity of dealing with international terrorism. Joseph’s clever and tightly-plotted script (slightly less than 90 minutes) examines the clash between humanitarian impulses and messy pragmatic reality.

Abubakr Ali as Boubs handles the brunt of the narrative, beginning the evening with a monologue set in the present and then the majority of the story is told in flashback. Ali captures Boubs’ attractive, almost adolescent naivete and skillfully charts his journey to sardonic, almost embittered maturity. Mia Barron has less to work with, but endows Dina with reams of subtext including her flinty acceptance of the unpleasant aspects of her job. You can see her mind working as Dina encounters the various twists and turns of Joseph’s intricate story.

Tim Mackabee’s suggestive revolving set, along with Alan C. Edwards’ lighting and Shawn Duan’s projection design, create a number of appropriate settings.

Curse of the Starving Class: Feb. 25—April 6. The New Group at the Pershing Square Signature Theater Center, 480 W. 42nd St., NYC. Running time: two hours and 45 mins. including intermission. thenewgroup.org.

Dakar 2000: Feb. 27—March 23. Manhattan Theater Club at New York City Center Stage I, 131 W. 55th St., NYC. Running time: 80 mins. with no intermission. nycitycenter.org.