Simon valiantly carries off the tricky imaginary-conversation ploy, mixing time periods and states of mind in an often brilliant cross-fire of confrontations. Jake’s chief problem is that he’d rather write than live. Fed up, Maggie announces: “I’m getting out of your word processor.” Into his discombobulated mind rush the other women, accusing and excoriating. Of course Jake is creating these conversations, a paradox that Simon handles with Socratic slyness and some of his most affecting humor. Gene Saks’s staging has the fleetness of a Howard Hawks movie, the women are magnetic and Alan Alda riffs madly with the true Simon rhythm. Sentimentality seeps in, but like cholesterol there’s a bad and a good kind. In “Jake’s Women” it’s good for your heart.
