Which is not to say it does not achieve something worthwhile: an updating of absurdism for Gen Xers, starring their own kind but writ and choreographed by their elders. (Poor Gen Xers; those boomers just won’t let go.) That marriage of the new stand-up/improv elite with the disgorged pain of a great comic writer suffering through a long stay on a planet America clearly spinning off its axis is what I have not quite seen before. Most neo-absurdist playwrights, your Will Enos and Annie Bakers, are gently compassionate satiric observers. They don’t have Zaks out there in the dark going louder, faster, quicker, funnier, smarter, clearer, for goodness sake. Martin did.