Martin McDonagh has a shaggy dog to sell. But watch out, because he might be scamming you.

Mr. McDonagh built his reputation by writing highly off-beat character studies set in remote parts of Ireland. Simultaneously hilarious and horrific, his plays have typically been produced in smaller spaces such as the 6th and Penn Theatre (now called BlkBox and the home of ion Theatre, which has produced more of Mr. McDonagh’s plays than any single local company.)

With A Behanding in Spokane, Mr. McDonagh has written his first play set in the U. S., and Cygnet Theatre has mounted an admirable Southern California premiere of it. The problem is that the play’s quality isn’t up to its author’s reputation.

To give away very much would be to spoil what fun might be had from this 85-minute trifle, so let me just provide you with the set up. The play takes place in Carmichael’s downscale hotel room in “small town America.” Carmichael has come there because he has a lead on recovering a hand that he lost in a horrible act of brutality that was inflicted upon him 27 years previously outside of Spokane, Washington. He is dealing with Toby and Lisa, two local lowlifes. Also on the scene is Mervyn, the hotel clerk, who has, in turns out, has a history of his own with Toby.

I should also tell you that Carmichael is devoted to his elderly mother and is concerned that she hasn’t returned his calls in a couple of days.

Cygnet has done a marvelous job of creating the hothouse of a room in which the action takes place. Christopher Ward’s set design uses just the front of the Old Town Theatre stage, and there’s not a lot of room for the actors to maneuver. Yet, maneuver they do, thanks for Lisa Berger’s creative direction (though, because of the plot’s demands I’d guess that the far sides of the seating area do not get nearly as good a view as the center sections.)

Michelle Caron’s lighting mixes the unflattering hotel room light with the blare of seediness outside the room’s large window, which leads to a convenient fire escape. Bonnie Durben’s properties drive the action while remaining cleverly realistic (and sometimes nauseating). Jessica John Gercke’s costumes tell us exactly who each character is before any of the performers says a word.

The actors, too, are spot on. As Carmichael, a role that earned a Tony nomination for Christopher Walken, Jeffrey Jones catches both the passion and the wariness of a man on a quest. Carmichael waves a gun around a lot, but he’s also taken in by tricks played by small-time con artists.

As those con artists, Kelly Iverson and an actor known only as Vimel make for a matched pair, bumbling their way through and not getting their stories straight. Mike Sears plays the hotel clerk as a nerd who is fascinated by the characters who check in and out, to the point of being obsessed enough to spy on them.

None of these folks is particularly clever, and that’s part of the McDonagh “brand.” But, dull, foul-mouthed and violent Irish somehow seem funnier than dull, foul-mouthed and violent Americans. Plot points are repeated enough times that I wondered whether the playwright had some elaborate con going on or whether the play was a sketch that needed to be stretched to enough of a length to warrant a full production.

In addition, the ending wasn’t particularly satisfying, enough that it prompted my companion and me to speculate afterward on outrageous twists that the story could have taken but didn't.

I’ve consistently found Mr. McDonagh’s plays to be wonderfully weird. Despite Cygnet’s excellent production, this one just felt weird. The production runs through February 19.

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