In an early essay Woody Allen assumed the role of a hanger-on whose anecdotes were all identical except for the name dropped. “Then Scotty Fitzgerald punched me in the nose.” “Then Ernest Hemingway punched me in the nose.” “Then Gertrude Stein. . . .” That story must have inspired Sean Miller’s shapeless new play about Hemingway and Fitzgerald landing in a Mexican jail from which only Gertrude Stein can spring them. While deciding whether to do so (or to deliver that well-deserved punch), she has to listen to a tedious recounting of their search for a golden phallus, ha ha. Despite a cityful of excellent actors begging for work, Journeymen director Frank Pullen has assembled a cast of astonishing mediocrity. Through 12/18: Thu-Sat 8 PM, Sun 3 PM. No show Thu 11/24. City Lit Theater Company, Edgewater Presbyterian Church, 1020 W. Bryn Mawr, 773-857-5395. $15-$20.