“Lovely Day,” the new play by actress and playwright Leslie Ayvazian, seems to feel it is doing a public service by putting a liberal and a conservative onstage to debate the Iraq war. This type of agenda can be deadly for drama (Can you imagine “Long Day’s Journey Into Night” as a well-meaning message play about the dangers of addiction?), and Ms. Ayvazian strides blithely into the usual traps. “Lovely Day” has thin characters that sound like mouthpieces for the playwright – and the dramatic arc of a Lincoln-Douglas debate.

The resident liberal of “Lovely Day” is Fran (Deidre O’Connell), a middle aged wife, mother, and sometime artist who recently joined a local anti-war group. Her conservative husband, Michael (David Rasche), served briefly as an Army officer (“in an office”) before becoming an advertising executive. They occupy a comfortable, blandly middlebrow suburban living room, where, mostly, they sit and argue.

The play’s principal action consists of Fran and Martin arguing about whether to allow their 17-year-old son, Brian, to enlist. There’s little spark in this, since Brian has no immediate plans to enlist. Moreover, the more these two talk, the more we realize how little they seem to care about each other – which makes it hard to get worked up about the specter of divorce. With nothing compelling at stake, the couple’s political monologues sound phony and scripted, like the point-by-point rundowns given by radio show callers.

Under the direction of Tony-winning actress Blair Brown, making her New York theater debut, the dialogue has a stilted, unnatural rhythm. Even when Fran and Martin interrupt each other, it rings false. Their relationship is both confusing and dull. Are we meant to believe that Fran may leave Martin over her newfound (and still protean) activism? Or are we supposed to see that she’s leaving him because he’s a bad listener, an out-of-touch father, and a belittling husband? After an hour of listening to tired blood-for-oil arguments and melodramatic rebuttals like “We are the world’s teenagers,” it’s hard to care anymore; I just wanted out of their living room.

Part of the problem is that Fran’s kookiness is hard to place – is she mentally unstable or merely spacey? The way Ms. O’Connell plays Fran, it’s hard to tell what’s behind that perky, oblique exterior. That mystery could have been a strength, were it not for this play’s dependence on pitched verbal battles. As it is, Fran’s vague surface refracts any attempt at engagement. Only in the play’s final moments does she plant her heels and argue passionately. Then, at last, Fran and Martin dig in for a real fight – not one of their usual measured “discussions” that signal emotion like a television sitcom.

“Lovely Day” has one thing right – in troubling times, audiences hunger to hear profound moral discussion in the theater. But that can’t be produced with a soapbox for a set and two leads who are essentially pawns.

Until February 12 (410 W. 42nd Street, between Ninth and Tenth Avenues, 212-398-2977).