MAKIN’ HAY Playwright Matthew Goldsby’s musical may be set in the imaginary Texas backwoods, but the piece’s pedigree is pure Parisian, as the work is broadly based on Molière’s comedy, Georges Dandin. I say “broadly based” because Molière probably didn’t intend that his characters wear big ole cowboy hats or the occasional Nancy Reagan hairdo. George (David Atkinson) is a grouchy rancher who hits it big “black gold, Texas tea.” What should be a gusher of happiness instead dries up his marriage to the lovely Anna Lee (Rory Patterson). When a sleazy, slick shiny suit–wearing doctor (Steven Hogle) woos Anna Lee with love notes and a ten-gallon that looks like it could hold 20 gallons, the wife starts to weaken, unintentionally abetted on her adulterous way by her own greedy parents, and also by her earthy Mexican maid Lucia (Gina D’Acciaro). Molière’s sardonic spoof of class and middle-class hypocrisy is only tepidly well-served by Goldsby’s overly sentimental tone — and by a score that’s an unfortunate combination of simplistic melodies and lame, moon-in-june lyrics. Director Linda Kerns stages a production that never met a Texas cliché it didn’t want to lasso, while also opting to avoid exploring characters beyond dull ethnic and recycled Texas stereotypes. Brent Crayon’s workmanlike musical direction hits a variety of stock country-music marks, but the weakness is ultimately Goldsby’s treacly score and book. Patterson’s folksy Anna Lee has a wonderful country-crooner voice, and D’Acciaro’s droll Mariachi-influenced songs are a pleasure. Actors Co-op, 1760 N. Gower St., Hollywood; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2:30 p.m.; through April 5. (323) 462-8460. (Paul Birchall)
GO THE MYSTERY OF IRMA VEP: A PENNY DREADFUL Only the late Charles Ludlum, founding genius of NYC’s Ridiculous Theatre Company, could have combined so many hilariously affectionate Gothic send-ups in a single play: There are shades of Ibsen’s Rosmersholm, Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca, plus The Mummy, Falconcrest, The Werewolf, and many vampire tales. To make the madness madder, Ludlum designed the play as a quick-change tour de force, with two actors (Jim Hanna and Steven Shields) playing seven roles. The time is the 1880s, and the place is Mandacrest, the home of famous Egyptologist Lord Edgar (Shields), who has recently arrived with his new second wife, Lady Enid (Hanna). The portrait of the first Lady Hillcrest, Irma Vep (an anagram for Vampire), stares balefully down above the fireplace as the treacherous housekeeper, Jane (Shields), and the one-legged care-taker, Nicodemus (Hanna), discuss the family’s dark history. Wolves howl, thunder crashes, sliding panels slide, a portrait bleeds, costumes are changed at lightning speed and an ancient Egyptian princess (Hanna) is mysteriously resurrected. Director Andrew Crusse has assembled a brisk, funny rendition on the clever set by Shelley Delayne, and the two actors make broad comic hay of their several roles. The Hayworth, 2511 Wilshire Boulevard, L.A.; Thurs.-Sat., 8 p.m., Sun., 7 p.m., through April 4. (323) 969-1707. An Ark Theatre Company production. (Neal Weaver)
Raquel Krelle
The Mystery of Irma Vep
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THE PARABOX Set against Jim Priest’s minimalist backdrop of colored frames, this play, created and directed by Rachel Kolar and Lauren Brown, features the pair, described as “1” (Brown) and “2” (Kolar) clad in silver unitards with facial makeup that resembles circuitry. Initially, we see them via a silent video montage as theyfrolick at the beach. In the next scene, they discover a mysterious clear box at their door, the Parabox, and “1” tries it on her head, experiencing a maelstrom of sensation. Subsequently, the conflict between them escalates as the Parabox becomes a chimerical prop in the ensuing scenes that trace their lives through marriage, sex, war and divorce. While non-naturalistic experimental theater that doesn’t provide easy answers can be intriguing, this piece fails to challenge the audience in terms of medium or substance. The idea of featuring local music, in this case from bands Future Pigeon and Lucky Dragons, is also commendable, but there is too little of it in the piece to be meaningful. On balance, the look and feel are reminiscent of the parodic Robots from Flight of the Conchords but without the catchy music or humor. Son of Semele Ensemble, 3301 Beverly Blvd., L.A.; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; through March 29. www.postfactproductions@gmail.com. A Post Fact Productions Production. (Mayank Keshaviah)
WHO LIVES? Christopher Meeks’ play is engulfed in death: JFK has just been shot, schoolkids duck and cover, and renal disease is inescapably fatal. When blackhearted lawyer Gabriel (Matt Gottlieb) learns his kidneys are shot, it feels like karmic revenge for him being such a prick. Meeks has set the stage for Gabriel’s Scroogelike redemption, and when we learn that an anonymous group of citizens will vote on whether he merits a slot in an experiment, and highly competitive dialysis program, his life is literally at stake. Of course, he fails to be accepted into the program. In desperation, he threatens to sue, thus negotiating a deal that gets him both a machine and a spot on the seven-person board which decides whose life earns a reprieve. Here, Meeks’ plot grinds to a halt as the rest of the play alternates between scenes of Gabriel and his estranged wife, Margaret (Monica Himmel), arguing, and of the group — each a symbolic personality — debating cases that touch on racism, religion and suicide. Director Joe Ochman pushes the play dangerously close to didacticism — people don’t talk, they yell — and the overbearing black-and-white set and costuming bleach out much of the humanity that needs to be at the heart of this story about life and death. Pico Playhouse, 10508 W. Pico Blvd., West L.A.; Thurs.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m. & 7 p.m.; through March 29. (310) 204-4440. (Amy Nicholson)
