To the Lyons, the Wyeths, the Antonescus, and the scores of ofher unhappy families now populating New York's many stages, we can add the Stones, the dysfunctional clan at the heart of David Bar-Katz's simultaneously overstuffed and underwhelming new play, The Atmosphere of Memory, being presented by the Labyrinth Theatre Company at the Bank Street Theatre.

Despite the work's many shortcomings, the extraordinary performances of Ellen Burstyn and John Glover make the play a worthwhile theatrical experience. Their exquisitely detailed, thoroughly beleivable renderings of Claire, a venerated actress who radiates deep feeling (even when it's not there) and Murray, her narcissistic, insensitive, but ultimately truth-telling ex-husband, are practically master classes in the art of stage work.

After a three-decade absence from acting, Claire has returned to the stage to portray a version of herself in the autobiographical play penned by her son Jon (a less-than-effective Max Casella). She's a little bit Arkadina, a little bit Amanda Wingfield, maybe even a little bit Medea -- Bar-Katz overtly throws in these references and a few others -- but the luminous Burstyn also gives Claire a much-needed veneer of warmth and sincerity.

But not even the real Ellen Burstyn could save Jon's play -- an epic mess full of bizarre time-traveling sequences (none of which make much sense), a ridiculous singing narrator (Sidney Williams), and a seemingly choice part for Jon's live-in girlfriend, Helen (a fine Kelley Curran). Previews are unsurprisingly tense, with the show's leading man, Steve (a passionate David Deblinger) and director/actor Mike (Charles Goforth) losing patience and tempers.

Jon finally decides the way to fix the play is to get input from Murray, from whom he's long been estranged, and his sister, Esther (the excellent Melissa Ross), who is unhappy about being the inspiration for Helen's character. He is convinced that there is some dark family trauma that he's suppressed or repressed and which needs to come to light to make the play coalesce.

Their impromptu family reunion doesn't go smoothly, to say the least, and eventually goes from bad to worse once Jon unvelis the hundreds of notebooks and tapes he kept as a child of every family conversation. Claire is alternately bemused and distraught; Esther is mostly horrified; and Murray takes the opportunity to say whatever is on his mind -- no matter the cost. Eventually, there is some sort of resolution, but it's neither original nor dramatically satisfying.

Director Pam MacKinnon, who has done a great deal of excellent work in recent years, can't get a firm hold on such self-indulgent material, and she's not helped in her mission by the Bank Street Space. While the audience is seated around three sides of the stage, the work never quite feels as intimate as it needs to due to the enormous amount of excess space outside the main playing area. (David Gallo has done a bang-up job with the set, regardless).

Still, the superlative work of Burstyn and Glover will linger in one's memory long after the rest of The Atmosphere of Memory has been happily forgotten.