Harry Clarke was born out of the dysfunctional matrix of paternal abuse and maternal collusion that plagued Philip Brugglestein from childhood through adulthood. David Cale’s “Harry Clarke” is a complex psychological study of dissociative identity disorder that explores the provenance of that condition from the point of view of a man (Billy Crudup) who fled one identity and was pursued by a second that alternately brought him pleasure and pain.

Cale’s script is carefully developed with a well-defined dramatic arc. It features interesting, well-developed characters with engaging conflicts that drive a plot rich in twists and turns, holding the audience’s interest for the entire eighty minutes. Under Leigh Silverman’s astute and unobtrusive direction, Billy Crudup engages in a dramatic battle with the script and comes up the clear victor, unearthing Cale’s treasures and bringing Harry Clarke to life with inexorable energy and irrepressible wit. Alexander Dodge’s sparse set and Alan C. Edwards’s judicious lighting contribute to the production’s success.

Crudup plays twelve characters in addition to Philip Brugglestein and his cockney doppelgänger Harry Clarke: the abusive parents, the police officer who awakens Philip to tell him of his father’s death, Mark Schmidt and his family (father, mother Ruth, sister Stephanie), Luke from Camden (whom Philip/Harry meets in a bar), and attorneys Brad Gould and Ryan. Crudup gives each of these dynamic characters unique personalities, facial gestures, and body movements with the ease of turning a page and the skill of one of the stage’s most accomplished actors. One can see Crudup’s characters not only in traditional performance but also in the actor imagining these characters “in his head.” He even sings Stephanie’s song “Wide Back Boy” with seductive charm.

Philip and Harry make it to England. How and why constitute the play’s resolution, and revealing more would require a spoiler’s alert. The journey from Indiana to England provides ample opportunity for Harry to regain control over Philip and place him in challenging—albeit fascinating—situations. Each requires Philip to grapple with his personality, his superego, and his tolerance of risks that might result in Philip losing complete control to Harry.

Cale’s expansive character study of young Philip Brugglestein from South Bend, Indiana and his alter ego Harry Clarke raises rich and enduring questions: Are there limits to what one does to escape verbal, psychological, and perhaps sexual abuse to preserve one’s life? Is one always in control of the circumstances surrounding the techniques of survival? “Harry Clarke” successfully questions all assumptions about individual identity, ego strength, and personality, leaving the audience wondering just how much they know about themselves and their choices.