YOUNGSTOWN — I vividly remember learning about the death of John Lennon.

It was in my freshman dorm room at Miami University, where I was half-heartedly trying to study and sort of paying attention to the “Monday Night Football” game on a portable B&W television. Over the din of a hot air popcorn popper — those once-popular appliances that were about as loud as a 747 and also managed to interfere with television reception — I thought I might have heard Howard Cosell say something about a dead Beatle.

He did.

The next night we had a seance, trying to conjure Lennon’s spirit. We decided a lot of people were trying to reach Lennon that night, so we tried to summon Buddy Holly instead.

Neither responded.

Too young to have been affected by the assassinations of Martin Luther King Jr. or either Kennedy, Lennon’s tragic, violent death was the first person I didn’t actually know whose loss impacted me in unexpected ways.

That should make me the target audience for a play called “The Day They Shot John Lennon.” But James McLure’s play, which has three performances remaining in its run at Youngstown Playhouse, doesn’t have much to do with Lennon or even how artists can have an impact on their fans’ lives through their work, their creativity and their public persona.

Instead, Lennon’s death is simply the tool used to bring characters together from different walks of life who are reaccessing the choices they’ve made, contemplating their futures and / or looking for a human connection.

A critic should review the play he gets, not the one that he would prefer. Director Frank Martin and a talented cast create an often compelling production that doesn’t quite overcome its contrived structure.

Adman Brian (Carl Brockway) awkwardly hits on legal secretary Fran (Brandy Johanntges) as these two members of the Woodstock generation try to figure out how they ended up with the lives they have now.

Three high school friends — Sally (Meredith Pallo), Kevin (Joshua Yoder) and Mike (Cyrus Dzikowski) — skip school to work through their grief and their own personal drama. Sally and Kevin just broke up.

Morris (Terry Shears), a lonely old man who lives in the Dakota, tries to bond with Larry (Arcale Peace), the adult son of the Dakota doorman.

Silvio (Eric Kibler) and Gately (Chris DeFrank) couldn’t care less about Lennon. They just see the crowd as easy marks to pickpocket.

The four different stories unspool simultaneously, occasionally interact and ultimately come together (or “Come Together,” as the Beatles sang).

The play debuted about 20 years ago and the events take place 42 years ago, but some of the elements resonate just as strongly today.

Bitter, angry and disillusioned by what he experienced in Vietnam, Silvio spouts conspiracy theories and rationalizes his behavior. He’d be spewing his beliefs on QAnon sites instead of street corners today.

Kibler and DeFrank get the strongest of the four stories, and there’s an “Of Mice and Men”-like quality to their relationship. DeFrank’s breakdown in the second act is heart wrenching, and the loyalty Kibler conveys to his emotionally scarred friend gives Silvio a glimmer of humanity.

Shears and Peace elevate the writing with their performances, making the slowly developing bond between two very different men more believable than it has any right to be.

The push and pull of Johanntges’ and Brockway’s bantering is entertaining, and Pallo displays a knack for delivering skewering one-liners directed at her character’s ex-boyfriend.

In some ways, the intimacy of the Moyer Room performance space serves the play well, almost making the audience part of the crowd gathering outside of the Dakota.

But in other ways, the tiny stage forces Martin to play air traffic controller, juggling small groups of actors on and off the space like planes in and out of LaGuardia.

I’m guessing on a larger stage, the actors remain present most of the time, and lighting is used to direct the audience’s focus.

Martin uses music and soundbites (the play opens with that “Monday Night Football” announcement) effectively to set the scene and to accentuate the storylines. But his care isn’t enough to overcome some inherent flaws in the work itself.

If you go …

WHAT: “The Day They Shot John Lennon”

WHEN: 7:30 p.m. Friday and Saturday and 2:30 p.m. Sunday

WHERE: Moyer Room, Youngstown Playhouse, 600 Playhouse Lane, Youngstown

HOW MUCH: Tickets are $20 and are available online at youngstownplayhouse.org and by calling 330-788-8739.