Sometimes the act of hiding a thing will inadvertently highlight it. Such is the case with a Greek statue figuring prominently into Neil LaBute's "The Shape of Things," in which a fig-leaf cover-up puts a spotlight onto the statue's nether regions.

It's also true of ReAct's current production of the play, which inadvertently telescopes the bare cruelty of LaBute's world by neglecting some of its key components and obfuscating others.

LaBute's famously misanthropic work (see: "In The Company of Men"), also takes on a moralist edge, given the right treatment. "The Shape of Things" is no different — just when you reach the height of his cruel justice, the message behind the madness becomes clear.

ReAct loses the full flavor of LaBute's moralism by not allowing the madness to reach its necessary fevered pitch.

The title "Shape" is the shape of one man — Adam. Adam starts the play as an extraordinary nerd, having not had a date in two years. He's the type of guy who wears his watch to make love.

Then he meets Evelyn, starting the clock on the inevitable LaBute relationship time-bomb. Turns out, the Adam we first met was actually Clark Kent — and art-student Evelyn embarks on an Extreme Superman Makeover, subtly refashioning this dork into a dreamboat.

Of course, the transformation is not without consequence. By the end of the show, this nice guy is showing signs of becoming that lying, cheating, heartless stereotype we all know.

"Shape" (which has been around since 2001) seems almost prescient, given the current glut of reality shows that deal with this same change-your-looks/change-your-life philosophy. Adam's tragedy, as it is with those women on "The Swan," is that he dives right into this manipulation, obliviously acting as Evelyn's marionette.

Strong lead acting from David S. Hogan's likable-pawn Adam and Angela DiMarco's sexy, slithering Evelyn still doesn't capture all of LaBute's fertile sexual subtext. Supporting actors Mona Leach and Jeffrey Grimm as friends Jenny and Phillip simply mark time, never fully joining the fray.

Director David Hsieh employs a number of odd tactics — extras that wander the stage speechless, cheesy slide-show music montages — that keep the hard-hitting text from getting where it needs to go.

Paradoxically, had they realized all of LaBute's extremes, it might have softened the blows of a script that comes across here as pointless, preachy manipulation.

Note: Much of ReAct's stage equipment was stolen last week from Richard Hugo House, but the company is continuing this run with borrowed equipment.