Theater Reviews

ME TOO This new play by a former West Wing writer (Mark Goffman) and the producers of Thank You for Smoking proves that sometimes truth is stranger than fiction. Based on an actual event, the play deals with a hopeless romantic named Andrew (Jeremy Glazer) who has had a tough time finding love. During a routine visit to his doctor and friend Geoff (Greg Pitts), he connects with Lucy (Danica McKellar) through the Internet and falls hard for her. As Andrew and Lucy’s relationship warms up, Lucy discovers that she has cancer, and in a moment of well-intentioned deception, Andrew pretends to suffer from it as well, believing that his love will make Lucy better. While the play explores some honest emotional territory, its story of the all-too-familiar lovable loser reads more like television with its sitcom-y humor and cuteness. Director Zeke Rettman similarly makes some choices that would play better on the small screen. While McKellar palpably guides us through the emotional swings of a cancer patient, Glazer remains a bit vanilla throughout. Pitts (Mr. “Oh-face” from Office Space), however, shows his serious side and gives a nuanced portrayal of a man in a loveless marriage. Room 9 Entertainment and Garmar Ventures at the STELLA ADLER THEATER, 6773 Hollywood Blvd., Hlywd.; Thurs.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 7 p.m.; thru June 25. (323) 960-7745. (Mayank Keshaviah)NAKED IN IDAHO Sean Michael Welch writes normality-with-a-twist tales that work better on paper than onstage. Each in this pair of middling one-acts has a single, outlandish absurdity that jars his average folks from routine, with overblown results. In Boise, Idaho, it’s a Rasputin-looking novelist (Scott Rognlien, with gusto) who narrates, loudly and portentously, the actions of the bored couple (Mark Schrier and Hara Finnegan) one table over; the man and wife (Jake Johnson and Maia Peters) of Try Not to Step on the Naked Man have just inherited from his ever-tasteful Great Aunt Gertrude a bare-assed behemoth named Frank (gentle Michael Cornacchia) who calls himself “Art,” as in “Living Work of.” Welch’s setups and unhinged denouements require directors Aaron Samson and Eric Normington to commit to either playing it straight or playing to the rafters. Frustratingly, they choose instead to play it safe with an unambitious blend of both that offers some laughs at the expense of tension and energy. An uncertain cast seems equally adrift, though the capable Rognlien and Cornacchia — one manic, the other calm — perform like they’re in two different, but quite fine, stagings. THE NEXT ARENA AT THE RAVEN PLAYHOUSE, 5233 Lankershim Blvd., N. Hlywd.; Fri.-Sat., 9 p.m.; thru June 17. (818) 771-7202. (Amy Nicholson)

ONE WAY TICKET TO HELL Like the 1998 staged movie parody Reefer Madness, writer Drew Taylor and composer Robert Cioffi’s musical is a jocular sendup of a 1950s film that hyperbolizes on the degenerative effects of marijuana. Perhaps even campier than its ’90s predecessor, this musical staging of One Way Ticket to Hell missteps in featuring songs that, instead of moving the story forward, restate plot points and, in effect, grind the show to a standstill, which wouldn’t be as much a problem if the songs were at all memorable. The cast is great, Josh Prince’s choreography is impressive — especially given the small stage — and Richard Hochberg directs with aplomb. But Taylor’s cloyingly bad jokes, uninspired subject and clumsy attempts at narrative only serve to mock the genuine talent that has gone into mounting this production. The musical Reefer Madness was a wickedly funny parody with vicious subdermal ire for conservative social mores. One Way Ticket to Hell does little more than beg its audience to chuckle at obvious jokes. The 1930s movie Reefer Madness is an extreme example of a misguided and fear-mongering culture, worthy of satire. The movie One Way Ticket to Hell is just a bad film. LEE STRASBERG CREATIVE CENTER, Marilyn Monroe Theater, 7936 Santa Monica Blvd., W. Hlywd.; Thurs.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 3 p.m.; thru Aug. 6. (866) 811-4111. (Luis Reyes)

21A Playwright Kevin Kling (Lloyd’s Prayer) seems to have ambiguous feelings about public transportation. 21A is a bus route in Minneapolis, and Kling’s 12 characters are all skillfully played by Eric Hailey. When driver Ron abandons his bus and passengers for a long, contentious coffee break, nobody seems to mind much, despite the presence of a gun-toting loose cannon who fancies himself a Robin Hood of Municipal Transport. The eccentric riders include a middle-aged woman whose husband and cat are both named Bob, two pushy street missionaries, a student, a man who insists desperately that he is “Not Dave!”, a mentally retarded boy and his sly alter ego, and a homeless man suffering from peculiar delusions. To crank up suspense, there’s a gun shot at the end of each monologue, but it’s only near the end that we discover who’s shooting and why. The production’s most ingenious touch involves the use of props to represent the characters, so that all of them can remain on the bus at once, even though Hailey can embody only one at a time. Hailey has a knack for juggling multiple characters and accents, and Ben Kusler’s discreet direction serves to tie up the slightly disjointed proceedings. MET THEATER, Great Scott Theater, 1089 N. Oxford Ave., Hlywd.; Tues.-Wed., 8 p.m.; thru June 21. (323) 957-1152. (Neal Weaver)