LA Weekly

THEATER PICK  DAUGHTERS OF HEAVEN Michaelanne Forster’s play, which is receiving its U.S. premiere here, studies two adolescents who committed a crime that shocked New Zealand in the 1950s. (The play’s subject was also recounted in Peter Jackson’s 1994 film, Heavenly Creatures.) Pauline Parker (Amanda Jones) and Juliet Hulme (Brittania Nicol) are a pair of madly romantic souls who cling to one another in a time of stifling conformity. Besides completing each other’s sentences, they write novels and poems together, listen to Mario Lanza records, and inhabit a pagan fantasy world in which they reign as goddesses. That is, until they murder Pauline’s mother (Brenda Beck) and are put on trial for the act. The play is half-narrated by Bridget O’Malley (Kerry McGrath), a housekeeper for Juliet’s middle-class parents, and her tone echoes the period’s rigid morality (especially against the girls’ platonic lesbianism) while providing a common-sense foil for both the “educated” hypocrisy of Juliet’s parents and the girls’ breathtakingly delusional behavior. Director Judith Bohannon and an extremely committed ensemble grace this tale with a poetic sadness that makes the show a memorable evening, even though the small stage at times seems built for a dollhouse. Jones, in particular, is a talent to watch, and the intensity of her Pauline is almost frightening. Randy Pool’s outstanding costuming authentically re-creates the 1950s, although one actor inexplicably sports the kind of hippie hair that probably would’ve gotten his character at the time arrested quicker than the girls. Alexia Robinson Studios, 2811 W. Magnolia Blvd., Burbank; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; thru April 26. (818) 842-4755. A BrittaniaJones Production. (Steven Mikulan)

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Daughters of Heaven

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Fortinbras

John Szura

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Jesus Christ Superstar

GO  DON JUAN Molière’s take on the mythic Spanish rake is steeped in the psychology of Mediterranean Catholicism, in which rebellion against God finds expression in sins of the flesh. The play, which created a firestorm of trouble for its author, begins with Don Juan (Elijah Alexander) holding forth on the earthly delights of a good cigar to his servant Sganarelle (J.D. Cullum) and ends with the unrepentant libertine dragged into the fires of hell. In between, we find him bounding from one woman to another, promising marriage to each in exchange for a night of pleasure. Alexander is fine as both Don Juan the rascal-trickster and the swashbuckling sensualist, but the show belongs to Cullum, who clownishly combines the outrage of a moral conscience with narrow-minded puritanism. As on point as the ensemble is, though, over time a suspicion deepens that this play — or, perhaps, translator Richard Nelson’s adaptation — lacks the rhetorical gunpowder of Molière’s more famous satires. More important, there’s no sense that an idea is being explored, or even a plot with any tension developed — there is simply a chain of scenes that run their course. This feeling is reinforced by Michael Michetti’s production, which hasn’t settled on a unified theme or look. Instead, the show relies upon a pastiche of costumes and comic moods that, in an earlier time, would’ve been called “postmodern.” A Noise Within, 234 S. Brand Blvd., Glendale; in repertory, call for schedule. (818) 240-0910, Ext. 1. (Steven Mikulan)

 
GO  FORTINBRAS This revival of Lee Blessing’s Hamlet redux picks up at the end of the original tale and has strong contemporary resonance due to the (literally) torturous past seven years under the Bush administration. Fortinbras (Greg Baglia) arrives in the aftermath of the regicide, and from his entrance it is clear that Blessing’s tone is sardonic, commenting on both the original work and itself. One of the few survivors in Shakespeare’s Elsinorian debacle, Fortinbras learns of the course of events from Horatio (Blair Hickey) and Osric (A.K. Raymond), but decides that since he’s “lucked into” the throne, he will “replace the whole story” of what happened, settling on a fabrication about a Polish spy as the catalyst for the massacre. While Fortinbras gets comfortable, he is visited by the ghosts of the dead royals, who all try to persuade him to tell the truth, except for Ophelia (Dagney Kerr), who merely wants to jump his bones. The other aberration is Hamlet’s ghost trapped inside a television set, a strange, anachronistic twist that sticks out like a rapier through an arras. Maria Cominis’ direction keeps the laughs coming but sometimes plays to the crowd a bit much. Baglia’s cleverly minimalist set design stretches elements to their full effect, and Tina Zarro’s costumes are perfectly in period, with modern accents. The cast give solid performances overall, but Kerr, playing Ophelia as a Courtney Love–esque sardonic slut, and Raymond, as the deferential straight “man” Osric, stand out. Secret Rose Theatre, 11246 Magnolia Blvd., N. Hlywd.; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; thru May 3. (323) 769-5858. A Theatre Neo Production. (Mayank Keshaviah)

 
IMAGOFEST In this bill of one-act plays, three playwrights explore the detritus left behind when a romance passes its sell-by date. In playwright Matt Sauter’s “The Divorce Party,” young wife Monica (Juliet Quentin Archard) abruptly announces her desire to divorce her lumpen husband, Terry (Mike Daily). The couple’s impressionable young daughter, Annie (Anne Asland), looks on in horror as her parents then go through with a previously planned birthday party. Director Bonnie McNeil’s feverishly paced staging gives the constantly flowing venom additional zest. Asland is heartbreaking as the long-suffering daughter — and she has some touching moments with Andrew McReynolds, playing her mentally handicapped cousin. In Alex Aves’ complex breakup chamber piece, “The Other Side of Everything,” a young artist (Aves again) lures her married ex-lover (Nick Cimiluca) over to her apartment in a last-ditch effort to get back with him — or die trying. Director May Quigley Goodman’s staging crackles with rage and despair, with Aves in particular offering a desperate turn as the damaged lover. Playwright Allan Smith’s plodding “Twice on Sunday,” in which a young man (Jeremia Heitman), paralyzed from the legs down following a suicide attempt, is nursed by his generous sister (Alison Evans), lacks the plot needed to rise above its consistently glum mood. Director Roger Mathey’s inert and static staging diffuses any potential tension or emotion the piece might be able to engender. Stella Adler Theatre, 6773 Hollywood Blvd., Hlywd.; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 7 p.m.; thru April 6. (323) 465-4446. (Paul Birchall)