Go with an open mind. Go expecting no traditional play, no beginning-middle-end. War Zones is four vignettes united by their central character, four meditations on the relationships that most define her identity, four ink sketches on the same page, lines bleeding towards one another on paper left in misty rain. Go expecting a piece eclectic and quirky. Let yourself laugh during the endearing, playful courtship so well rendered by Marjory Collado and Robert Klein. (Their romance is a welcome diversion from the play’s heavier subjects of Alzheimer’s and eating disorders.) Go with no presuppositions, and you could find yourself in awe of a writer and cast who make you believe a woman struggling to find sympathy for her sexual assailant, because she believes he is troubled. Watch Matthew McNear play a disintegrating victim of anorexia, and find his portrayal so present that you forget the bulimic assailant he played thirty minutes ago. Go, and expect perhaps the few rocky stumbles inevitable when artists set their sights on steep, ambitious climbs. But go.