The Actors' Group delivers a smart change of pace with its current production of David Mamet's "November." The show is a brash, irreverent comedy about a failing American president who pardons a Thanksgiving turkey to reenergize his reelection campaign.

Like most of Mamet's plays, the production is not so much about what happens, but about the words that make it happen. His language is jagged, vulgar, and dominating — influenced by dialogue written by Harold Pinter, whose "The Homecoming" closed last week at the University of Hawai'i.

TAG often returns to Mamet in choosing its season, previously mounting his "Glengarry Glen Ross," "Oleanna" and "Boston Marriage."

On Broadway in 2008, "November" starred Nathan Lane, who could get laughs by reading the back of a cereal box. The TAG production, directed by David Farmer, features Russell Motter — who gets good results from the material.

While it is not a one-man play, it is dominated by its central character — who never leaves the stage, delivers most of the lines, and grinds up supporting roles like dry leaves through a shredder.

He is Charles Smith, disliked and likely to be a one-term president. He's got only $4,000 in his campaign fund, no prospect of a presidential library and a wife in tears over having to move out of the White House.

But he's nothing if not a motor-mouth — brokering, cajoling, and threatening to banish opponents to the wilds of Bulgaria.

Motter slips easily into that role and wears it easily for two acts, riding the dialogue like a surfer on a powerful and tricky wave — skirting obstacles and staying an instant ahead of verbal wipeout.

Playing against a powerhouse role like this one is an exercise in keeping from being run over.

Neal Milner loses that game as an adviser who can't manage to get out a line before it's trampled on by his boss. Lito Capina is the frustrated representative of the turkey lobby and D. Tafa'I Silpa is the American Indian caught like a deer in the president's headlights.

Patrice Scott, as the lesbian speechwriter, is the only character who manages to give as good as she gets, rising above jet lag to blackmail her way into a same-sex wedding.

Lastly, the president's bank of telephones functions as a strong presence, as deals are made and broken with a string of unseen characters, while a representation of the Oval Office provides a credible backdrop.

But ultimately, this is Motter's evening to shine, pushing out a torrent of political incorrectness and standing tall as a character who is both aggressively amoral and outrageously comic.

Joseph T. Rozmiarek has been reviewing Hawai'i theater since 1973.