At first glance, Manhattan Theatre Club’s “Vladimir,” currently at New York City Center Stage I, might receive a “what’s new” reaction from the audience. But the importance Erika Sheffer’s well-constructed play takes us far beyond the boundaries of Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin’s Russia.

“Vladimir” focuses on the enduring themes of love and relationships, the dichotomy of freedom and oppression, and the struggle between good and evil. Erika Sheffer also explores how truth and the power of the pen interface with those enduring themes.

After Putin comes to power in Russia, things change for the Russian people. Wisely, the playwright here chooses to focus on two incidents that change how she and three others understand Putin and the power he wields globally. The first incident is the narrative’s protagonist Raya’s (a forceful and Francesca Faridany) encounter with Chovka (a broken and hopeless Erin Darke) in Ukraine. The second incident is her discovery of tax fraud committed at the highest level of the Russian government.

Chovka describes in haunting detail the human rights abuses by the Russian military in Chechnya. Raya has written about these abuses; however, she urges Chovka to tell her story publicly. Yevgeny (a calm but dedicated David Rosenberg) is willing to risk losing his life by using information from his government contacts to support Raya’s assertion of high crimes and misdemeanors at the Kremlin.

Raya’s close friend Kostya (a riveting and conflicted) Norbert Leo Butz) remains skeptical if Raya’s suspicions and warns her of the dangers of continuing to “poke the bear.” As evidence accumulates, he joins Raya in her insistence that exposing Putin is the only hope for Russia’s future as a nation and as a people. Despite death threats, imprisonment, and the risk of losing everything, the characters and their conflicts drive a believable plot whose themes encourage heightened awareness of the misuse of power, the importance of rage, and the need for compassion.

Daniel Sullivan directs “Vladimir” with sensitivity and awareness of the dangers of the maudlin. The creative team deftly sets the stage for the forward movement of the play.

In New York City, as she contemplates the dangers of returning to Russia, Raya addresses the audience at the end of the play and contemplates Vladimir Putin’s unchecked power in this pivotal monologue:

“Sorry, I am now traveling for few weeks, talking about what’s happening in my country, and eh, I’m supposed to go back tomorrow. I have ticket, flight from JFK, and everyone asking, my friends, my agent, people like you in audience, they ask: Are you afraid to go back? And they don’t say of who. They don’t use his name. Only, how can you go back? Aren’t you afraid? And it make me so… mad, that one man should have such power. One. Small. Not great intellectual, not insightful, only talent is finding ugliness and knowing how to use it. And yet this little man take up so much space. And I’m thinking . . . I don’t want to give this man such power. He does not deserve such power. And maybe it’s nothing what I’m doing, it is simple act by simple person.”

Erika Sheffer has sounded a terrifying alarm with “Vladimir.” There is no need to name names, or point fingers, or even go the political route. There are currently far too many men (yes, all non-apologetic cisgender males) across the planet. They come in a variety of ages, sizes, shapes, colors, and power strategies. But they all have the unique talent of “finding ugliness and knowing how to use it.” Our only antidote to this poison is ourselves and finding as Raya does, that one thing, that one act – simple as it is – that might save democracy and the planet from irreversible harm.