A moving story of a complicated woman

Will McGarrahan and Anne Gottlieb in ''The Wrestling Patient,'' presented by a collaboration of three local theater companies. (STRATTON MCCRADY)

The remarkable, complicated life of Etty Hillesum has inspired a remarkable and complicated play, "The Wrestling Patient," now receiving its world premiere at the Boston Center for the Arts. If the play is occasionally messy, a bit unpolished, so too was the life.

This production results from the unusual and welcome collaboration of three local theater companies: SpeakEasy Stage Company, Boston Playwrights' Theatre, and the newly formed FortyMagnolias Productions. But the driving force behind it is clearly Anne Gottlieb - artistic director of FortyMagnolias, co-writer (with playwright Kirk Lynn and director Katie Pearl) of the play, and, in a luminous and beautifully transparent performance, Etty herself.

Hillesum was a Dutch Jewish woman whose family, unlike the more famous Anne Frank's, felt itself so securely assimilated into Dutch society that it ignored the growing Nazi threat for too long. Hers was also a deeply troubled family, with a history of schizophrenia and depression, and her own mental state was fragile and deeply sensitive.

Out of these difficulties, however, Hillesum crafted a moving legacy: a series of diaries, begun at the behest of her psychotherapist, a German Jewish follower of Jung named Julius Spier, and a host of letters to friends and family members. Gottlieb used these writings, published only decades after Hillesum's death at Auschwitz, as the inspiration and core of the play.

Gottlieb and her collaborators have stated, reasonably, that they did not want the play to focus on the tragic end of Hillesum's life, but rather that they hoped to illuminate the ways in which her internal struggles and personal growth helped her to confront the evil around her. But they also do not shirk from showing her life once she had been sent from her Amsterdam home to Westerbork, the Nazi "transit camp" through which Dutch Jews passed on their way to the death camps in Poland.

This makes for a lot of territory, both interior and in the world, to cover in a single play, and the strain sometimes shows in the play's structure and length. It's three occasionally unwieldy acts, and it runs well over two hours with a single intermission. More problematically, it has trouble finding a smooth balance and a consistent point of view: Is it about the unfolding of one woman's troubled psyche in horrible times, or is it a larger story of resistance and war?

It's both, of course, as it must be. But as it continues to develop, its authors need to weight it more in one direction or the other, so that we know where to look first.

I'd look, first and always, at Hillesum the writer, daughter, and lover, the woman we see most clearly in the first two acts. The world already has many worthy stories of heroism against external oppression. What makes Hillesum's life particularly fascinating is the way her internal demons tested and tormented her even as she faced those outside her. It's her messiness and imperfection, and her willingness to keep going anyway, that hold our interest.

"The Wrestling Patient" already has some strong scenes, some strange and engaging characters, and some memorable lines. In this production, it also has a fine cast - particularly Will Lyman as the therapist-turned-lover, Marya Lowry as Etty's histrionic mother, and Will McGarrahan as the "Wrecking Ball," a chilling and pervasive embodiment of Hillesum's deepest fears. Richard Chambers has contributed a moody, detailed but variable set that serves as both interior and exterior landscape, and Benjamin Emerson's sound design adds to the atmosphere - though the playwrights could make more focused use of the music that runs, like a thread of the civilized past, throughout.

They can also congratulate themselves on having shaped a provocative story this far. Now they can continue to refine and streamline it, so that Etty Hillesum's unique voice speaks to us in all its pain, self-deprecating humor, and devastating clarity.

Louise Kennedy can be reached at kennedy@globe.com.