The Catastrophic Theatre's office is under construction. With a tag line of "We will destroy you," it makes sense.

This time, Catastrophic plans to destroy you via The Designated Mourner, another rare find by Wallace Shawn. In a surprising move (these people like to keep you guessing), the show takes place right in their tiny Sul Ross office. Talk about intimate.

"I have wanted to do this play for decades," admits Jason Nodler, artistic director, who just came off a successful run of Shawn's erotic Our Late Night. "We weren't quite ready to leave Shawn. And this play has never been in Houston before."

The Designated Mourner opens Friday night and runs through June 5. The play involves an imagined near future where the arbiters of high culture are targeted for execution. Following the life of Jack, a former student of English literature, his wife, Judy, and her famous writer father, The Designated Mourner plays out in a series of confessional monologues. The cast includes Greg Dean, Mikelle Johnson and special guest Paul Menzel, a Radio Music Theatre alum.

"We like to bring new people into the mix," Nodler says.

Setting Shawn's play in close quarters has a history. The New York premiere took place in a men's club with room for only 30 people. Shawn was in the cast, and it was directed by his longtime colleague Andre Gregory. Catastrophic will house 40.

Converting the office into a theater has been no easy job, but Catastrophic's relatively new managing director Kirk Markley is up to the task. "The question is: How do you do a play in a room?" Markley says.

No downsized ambitions

For a theater company downsizing in the venue category, its presence as it wraps up its third season is anything but small. Artistically, it has been on a steady roll, presenting plays rarely if ever seen in Houston, mixing high-profile new actors with seasoned company veterans, and garnering an unprecedented amount of critical praise. Some disclosure: I have been part of the cheer squad. I gush over Our Late Night here. Rave about The Strangerer here. Go bananas over Hunter Gatherershere.

And it's not just me, the entire critical community of Houston, small as it is, has given Catastrophic a hefty dose of deserved hoopla.

Nodler has a knack for picking plays that give audiences something to sink their teeth into. He named his company after Howard Barker's ideas of the Theatre of Catastrophe, where "the audience goes home disturbed or amazed." He also is deeply invested in the company concept, developing the talents of those around him, matching parts to people in a way where we see actors push into fresh territory.

As a director Nodler's particularly trusting of his actors' instincts.

"I don't stage a piece," he says. "I let blocking come more organically. "Seems to work."

The theater odd couple

Markley joined the team nine months ago after 16 years at Stages Repertory Theatre. "I was ready to learn new things," says Markely, who goes back with Nodler to high school days and participated in many an Infernal Bridegroom Productions show.

They make a curious team. Nodler, the quieter of the two, is pensive, takes long pauses before he says anything and carefully chooses his words. Markley is always smiling, like he has a secret (and he does). He's more eager to divulge. Together, they are a hoot to watch think through a conversation, a play or the future.

Just mention the idea of a permanent home, and their dynamic becomes apparent. Nodler dreams of a place of his own, for his company to flourish, hang out, and simply build community around the plays. Markley, the more practical of the two, emphasizes the long-term nature of that particular goal. The DiverseWorks residency has worked out well for now.

Associate director Tamarie Cooper is back part time from maternity leave and is still reeling from planning the best and biggest gala ever, which included old friend Jim Parsons of The Big Bang Theory. In terms of visibility, the gala knocked it out of the park.

"Jim shook every single person's hand," Cooper says. "He's the nicest, most gracious guy." For Nodler, the gala meant something else. "It was great to catch up with Jim," Nodler says in his characteristic humbleness.

He's glad to have his right hand lady back on board. Cooper, famous for putting her own life on stage, promises a new show in the summer of 2011. "I don't want to do a show about diapers," she says. "I'm thinking of returning to cabaret, like 20 Songs." The trio has worked out a system. "Jason is the visionary, Kirk builds the ship and navigates, and I'm Julie McCoy, the cruise director," says Cooper, who works from home so she can stay close to her new baby, Rose.

The team is dedicated to audience development. Nodler thinks about the audience as cultivating a group of friends who feel welcomed into the established mix of Catastrophic regulars. His counterpart strategizes hands-on ways to get new people in the seats. "We want to build an audience, not attract one," Markley says.

Can't pay much, still attend

Ticket prices are one way to expand the family. After the recession hit, Catastrophic changed to a "pay-what-you-can" policy. "It's been enormously successful," says Nodler. "And we will continue next season. " Markley likes how inclusive the policy is. "It removes the financial barrier," he says. "Every play we see a few people paying with pocket change or two wadded up dollar bills. We are so happy to see them."

While other theather companies are winding down their seasons, Catastrophic is ramping up. The reprise of the raucous Hunter Gatherers opens in June. Expect everything that shouldn't happen on stage to happen. It's one wild and enormously fun ride. Keep mom at home for that one, unless I happen to be your mom.

Fall takes off with Obie Award-winning playwright Lisa D'Amour's Anna Bella Eema. By November, Catastrophic gets back to its rock roots with Bluefinger, with music by Black Francis of The Pixies. Nodler adds, "We do plays about people and things that mean a lot to us." A simple formula that appears to be working.

There's more, but I am not about to spill next season's beans here. As I said, Catastrophic likes to keep you guessing.