Theater Reviews: Backstreet: The Musical, The Good Woman of Setzuan, South Pacific and Hamlet

GO  I MADE OUT WITH HIM ANYWAY
Sex and the City 2 has nothing on this show. For less than the price of a movie ticket, you can enjoy a night of dating tales from the dark side, which recall the freshness and hilarity of the HBO show's first couple seasons, without any of the melodrama or fabricated storylines characteristic of both its last season and the beating-a-dead-horse-for-the-money film adaptations. What you get instead are two veterans of improv and sketch comedy, Evie Peck and Kirsten Eggers, describing their romantic maledictions — and male additions — in eminently quotable ways. The laugh lines are edgy, sexy and scandalous at times but always delivered with an understated, wide-eyed honesty that is reminiscent of both Phoebe from Friends and Flight of the Conchords. Evie and Kirsten break into song to describe their bad romances, seamlessly accomplished by the onstage appearance of Jon Lee, who co-wrote the numbers and provides the folksy guitar strumming. The transitions into and out of these songs, as well as between bits, is smoothly orchestrated by director Nick Hoffa, who keeps the show moving at brisk clip. I would be remiss if I didn't mention Kim West's airline–safety card diagrams of proper tongue technique that provide the perfect backdrop to a compact show (running one hour) that, unlike the aforementioned franchise, actually made me want a sequel. The Lost Studio, 130 S. La Brea Ave., Hlywd.; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m. & 10:30 p.m.; through June 24. (323) 960-1055, plays411.com/imadeout. (Mayank Keshaviah)

GO  MADAGASCARJT Rogers' intriguing drama is set at various times in a hotel in Rome and begins with three ostensibly unconnected monologues. A 20-something woman named June (Deana Barone) expounds with intensity about individuals who mysteriously disappear. A condescending matriarch, Lillian (Taylor Gilbert), confides how she copes with life's unpleasant realities. And a rumpled economist, Nathan (Sam Anderson), reveals his social awkwardness and professional limitations, contrasting his gracelessness with the brilliant charm of his colleague Arthur, sought after by governments and multinational companies. Gradually the links between these troubled people emerge. Haunting all three is the anguishing specter of June's twin brother, Paul, who, obsessed over by his mother and sister, escaped to Africa and then vanished without a trace. Rogers' rich, dense dialogue winds back and forth over decades, and comes full of twists and turns that startle the characters, as well as the audience. This provocative and enthralling ride is facilitated by three memorable performances (Anderson's confounded and melancholy paramour is indelibly moving). Director Brendon Fox's elegant staging works with Helen Harwell's set, Christian Epps' lighting, and David B. Marling's sound design to form the integral elements of this accomplished production. Road Theatre Company at the Lankershim Arts Center, 5108 Lankershim Blvd., N.Hlywd.; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; in rep through June 26. (866) 811-4111, RoadTheatre.org. (Deborah Klugman)

GO  SMALL CRAFT WARNINGS
Tennessee Williams never had much patience for slowly and gently unwrapping the pretty packages people dress themselves in before revealing their grubby, oft-mishandled hearts. Usually, bows and paper are hanging on only by one last desperate bit of Scotch tape at the top of the action. With mascara-smudged, tear-glassy eyes and the opening line, "I'm famished — lonesome — and famished," mentally touched Violet (Gina Manziello) shows that she has long transcended despair. Williams gathers the flotsam of a small, Southern California coastal town in the bar owned by Monk (Alexander Wells): "You're running a refuge for vulnerable human vessels," Doc (the excellent Barry Jenner) tells him, as the denizens feast on their daydreams of escape. More a series of monologues than a cohesive play, the pace drags until the talented but miscast Elizabeth Karr, as Leona, the beautician/matriarch and a central character, finally finds her footing. Still, the silent action staged by director Michael Murray is more riveting than the highlighted speeches. Even in near darkness, the way Violet wavers between satisfying Bill's pathetic arousal (Robert Dolan) and stroking Steve's buckled manhood (Norman Scott) is mesmerizing; though partially obscured, Steve's sloppy-drunk devouring of two hot dogs transfixes. In fact, in a strong cast, Scott's Gumby-like physicality, stiffened only momentarily by a sharp, vocal rebuttal of his lot in life, is nothing short of a wonder. Classical Theatre Lab, Fiesta Hall in Plummer Park, 1200 N. Vista St., W.Hlywd.; Fri.-Sat., 7:30 p.m.; Sat.-Sun., 3 p.m.; through June 12. (800) 838-3006. (Rebecca Haithcoat)

THE SOCIALIZATION OF RUTHIE SHAPIRO
Anyone with personal memories of the 1960s might be forgiven for not recognizing the lunar landscape that playwright Barbara Nell Beery's colorless coming-of-age drama passes off as 1967 L.A. For a watershed year in such a culturally iconic decade, one could reasonably expect to find at least one issue of Tiger Beat or even a Davy Jones pinup in the bedroom of Beery's 12-year-old heroine, Ruthie (Claire Partin). But designer Jeff Rack's generic jumble of set pieces is as devoid of character-defining details as Ruthie is of the hormone-roiled obsessions of real-world adolescence. Instead, Beery's "memory play" about a secular-Jewish math prodigy's quest for popularity at her new junior high school is the kind of anodyne, life-in-a-vacuum fairy tale seemingly designed to reassure parents that their little darlings aren't dreaming up anything darker than comically corny routines for the school talent show. Beery's cumbersome device of having Partin step out of character as the adult Ruth to redundantly re-narrate already-played scenes proves hazardous to director Susan Morgenstern's attempt at close-focus intimacy. Worse, it wastes valuable stage time, which would have been better spent developing the implicitly imploding marriage of Ruthie's mother (Constance Mellors) and an absentee father. By the time Ruthie pays the price of being popular — by ostracizing her naively bigoted outcast of a best friend (Heather Keller) — the moment feels like a forced, bathetic footnote rather than the innocence-shattering act of cruelty that the grown-up Ruth claims it to be. Theatre West, 3333 Cahuenga Blvd. West, Hlywd.; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; through July 11. (No perf July 4.) (323) 851-7977. (Bill Raden)