Theater Reviews: Bunny Bunny, Eenie Meanie, Little Fish

{mosimage}  ALWAYS — BUT NOT FOREVER Playwright Henry Jaglom’s Bergmanesque marital comedy focuses on the frenzied desperation of young wife Dinah (frequent Jaglom muse Tanna Frederick), who’s reeling from the recent unraveling of her marriage to handsome writer Jack (David O’Donnell). The play opens nine months after Jack’s departure, as the histrionic Dinah has managed to sweet-talk her ex into coming over one last time, ostensibly so he can sign their divorce papers. When Jack arrives, though, Dinah pulls out all the stops to seduce him home. Complicating Dinah’s plans are Jack’s understandable recalcitrance, and also the unexpected arrival of some friends, including Dinah’s rigid best pal, Lucy (Kelly DeSarla), and her long-suffering husband, Eddie (Bryan Callen). Jaglom’s comedy is an intensely intimate tale of heartbreak and the desperate lengths to which someone will go to stave it off. With his polished yet cozy staging, director Gary Imhoff pitches the piece with the mildly elegiac Chekhovian mood — complete with midlife dissatisfaction and unrequited love. Although the play’s overwritten midsection is occasionally inert, Frederick’s ferocious acting turn stirs it back into motion: Her performance rings powerfully with emotional pain. With her frowsy cascade of red hair and crackling, animated eyes, she often appears on the edge of madness. Sweet and affecting supporting turns are also offered by DeSarla’s brittle Lucy and by O’Donnell’s increasingly bewildered Jack. EDGEMAR CENTER FOR THE ARTS, 2437 Main St., Santa Monica; Fri.-Sat., 7:30 p.m.; Sun., 5:30 p.m.; thru Dec. 9. (310) 392-7327.(Paul Birchall)

ANON Guys like to hear about sex but never want to talk about it, especially when it comes to their own lives. Understanding this contradiction seems to be the motivation behind Kate Robin’s comedy-drama about an N.Y. couple (Kit Pongetti and Blayne Weaver) whose fling together begins to unravel almost from the start. The play, directed here by Chris Fields, makes some intelligent observations about psychological turmoil in the American bedroom, but careens, at its extremities, between sitcom and therapy. Echo Theater Co. at STAGE 52, 5299 W. Washington Blvd.; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 7 p.m.; thru Nov. 11. (800) 413-8669. (Steven Mikulan) See Stage feature next week.

{mosimage}  BUNNY BUNNY What’s most clear in Alan Zweibel’s play about Gilda Radner is his undying love for her through their 25-year platonic relationship. On Zweibel’s (Michael Cotter) first day as a writer for Saturday Night Live, Radner (Elisa Morse) finds him hiding behind a potted plant, intimidated by all the talent in the room. She joins him, and then volunteers him to write several sketches for her, giving him the confidence to join already established writer-performers such as John Belushi, Dan Aykroyd and Chevy Chase. Both Zweibel and Radner are part of the early glory years of SNL, Zweibel collecting several Emmys (Radner only won one), and both eventually leave the show. Zweibel moves to Hollywood to write for TV, although he was one of several contributors to Radner’s huge stage hit, Gilda Live. Despite living on opposite coasts, they keep in touch by phone and the occasional visit. Radner eventually marries Gene Wilder, moves west and makes a series of bad movies, before being stricken with ovarian cancer. Under director Todd Stashwick, the actors deliver superior performances, but the play glosses over Zweibel’s cocaine addiction as well as Radner’s ongoing battle with bulimia. Bill Glass plays all of the other characters so well, at times he nearly becomes the central character. HUDSON GUILD THEATER, 6539 Santa Monica Blvd., Hlywd.; Tues.-Wed., 8 p.m.; thru Oct. 24. (323) 960-5774. (Sandra Ross)

  CARNIVALE OF THE UNASSUMING An upper-class lady, the socially and emotionally constricted Viola (the captivating Michelle Zamora), wanders into a carnival. At the start, the tent appears to be your everyday traveling circus with a card-reading Gypsy (Ramona P. Gonzales, delightfully over-dramatic) and a charming, bumbling Clown (George Paez). But when Viola escapes her tarot reading and comes across the ringleader Baron von Scabbington (the sinister Luke Lizalde), he slams Viola into her past. The wayward heroine confronts her fears with the help of a talking mouse, Zamora’s playful puppets and a ballerina — who all illuminate her inner freak show. Co-writers Gonzales, director Selene Santiago, and Zamora have fabricated a fanciful world from the whimsical set. The play beautifully illustrates the idea that what is left unsaid is just as important as what is told — though some of the ambiguity weights things down. There are hints of Viola’s desires for true love and independence, but we never understand precisely what our protagonist is after or if she defies her bleak social position without her carny companions. Nevertheless, the production is magical. The pre-show “Silent Film,” written and directed by Alejandra Cisneros, is equally enticing. Tongue in Chic*ana Productions at CASA 0101, 2009 E. First St., E.L.A.; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 3 p.m.; thru Nov. 4. (323) 263-7684. (Sophia Kercher)

EENIE MEANIE Growing up in racially segregated Valley Station, Kentucky, writer-performer Teresa Willis never saw a black person till her family’s all-beige living room was entered by an intriguing African-American piano tuner. She integrated her doll collection just in case she might find a black friend, was fascinated by To Kill a Mockingbird, and her hero was Atticus Finch. Sent to a “Jigaboo High School” in the days of school busing, she was attracted by black men, partially because it scandalized her parents. In her solo show, Willis tells of coming to California, where she weathers the L.A. Riots, which unmask her boyfriend as a violent racist she distrusts more than the rioters. So long as Willis views her autobiography through the prism of race, she is fresh, provocative and funny, and the piece has structural unity. Toward the end, she abruptly reveals her own lesbianism, and though the connection between gay rights and civil rights may have been her point, the narrative focus splits disconcertingly nonetheless. Ultimately, she reverts back to her main theme, examining her elderly father’s emerging bigotry. It’s an engaging piece, ably directed by Elizabeth Swenson with an assist from Martha Demson, and Willis performs it well, but it resembles two plays, uncomfortably blended. Say Tiger Productions and THE OPEN FIST THEATRE COMPANY, 6209 Santa Monica Blvd., Hlywd.; Mon.-Tues., 8 p.m.; Sun., 3 p.m.; thru Nov. 23. (No perf. Oct. 23.) (323) 882-6912 or www.openfist.org. (Neal Weaver)