It's amazing how quickly Mark Southers' Pittsburgh Playwrights Theatre Company has established itself as part of the community, reaching out beyond its Penn Avenue home for larger and newer audiences. Besides the Black & White Festival and the Wilson vignettes, there's James McManus' "Dorothy 6," which is being revived at the historic Pump House in Homestead.

		'Dorothy 6' Where: Historic Pump House at the Waterfront, Homestead. When: Sunday through Oct. 17. Sun. 6 p.m. Tickets: $12-$15; 412-441-2213.

First staged at the Penn Theatre in May, McManus' exploration of a steelworker's commitment to preserving the blast furnace known as "Dorothy 6" and the effects his resolve has on his family and friends finds its perfect setting in the Pump House. It marks the site of the Battle of Homestead between striking steelworkers and Pinkerton guards.

"Dorothy 6" is being revived with the hope that its new location may bring people from the local steel community who didn't have a chance to see the play in May, those who may have experienced first-hand the events McManus dramatizes. With that in mind, the Battle of Homestead Foundation and Rivers of Steel National Heritage Area invited Southers to the Pump House.

Now McManus' drama unfolds in the dim brick structure. The sunset glitters orange through the tall windows, as if nature itself is marking the end of the steel era with the same woeful understanding that McManus brings. Trains chug and whistle in the background on tracks built nearby to carry Carnegie's steel.

But it's not the setting that makes "Dorothy 6" come so vibrantly to life. It's McManus, who explores each character so fully, from the central character, Steamboat, who refuses to see his work and dreams end in one fell swoop with the destruction of the blast furnace, to Steamboat's teenage daughter, Rosy, nearly consumed by anger at her disintegrating family and community.

McManus deftly handles themes that have been dealt with by great playwrights before him, such as Arthur Miller, Eugene O'Neill and August Wilson. What happens to an individual whose dreams are smashed by a changing society? How does someone face up to his inability to achieve the American Dream? What's the difference between facing reality and giving up, and is it possible to do the former without the latter?

There's a lot to think about in "Dorothy 6," even more so since it speaks to Pittsburgh's own history. It's beautifully, even classically constructed. If it has any fault, it's that McManus wants us to know his characters too well, so each has a monologue expressing his or her innermost feelings. Perhaps not every one of these people would fall prey to such decisive moments of self-analysis and realization, at least not in real life. On stage, though, I bought it completely and never questioned their revelations, only relished the sensitivity with which McManus laid bare their souls.

Southers directs with equal sensitivity, allowing the slow pace of some scenes-- guarding the furnace, hanging out at the diner -- to play against the more furious scenes of fights, arguments and bouts of anger fueled by alcohol. He never ignores the humor of McManus' script, which keeps the characters very human and reveals the spark of their former lives.

John Gresh leads the cast as Steamboat. Most interesting about his performance is the complex integration of vulnerability and brashness. Steamboat is obviously a leader in the process of becoming, or accepting his fate as, a fallen leader. Gresh makes Steamboat's attempts at reaching out pained and tentative so that his horrible admission, "I ain't no more important than the coal that keeps Dorothy going," is filled with as much anger and frustration as misery.

Paul Stockhausen provides a nice complement to Gresh. Pigeon is a follower and Stockhausen is the consummate tagalong, with every muscle in his body straining to please. The dissolute drunk is never far beneath the surface, and it's easy to see that, without the wall of Steamboat to hold him up, Pigeon is falling too fast to be saved.

The rest of the cast is also strong, especially Ola Creston as Rosy and Joanna Lowe as Steamboat's wife, Dolly. Creston's Rosy is a fiery, rebellious yet very sensitive teen, too smart not to see the bleakness of her own future. Lowe allows Dolly to be the quiet center of her family, while still making clear her deep desperation and fear.

Gunther Kusior plays the brain-damaged Oates with careful attention to expressing Oates' range of feelings and not just his limited mental capacity. Oates' true inability to grasp what's happening is an interesting contrast to other characters' inability to admit it.

Claire Fraley brings a brassy humor and no-nonsense attitude to Dolly's aunt, Viola, a diner owner whose business suffers due to the closing of the mill.

Together, these characters form a complete world that reflects, comments upon and makes us think deeply about our own.