SOME FRESH FUN FROM MIXXED NUTTS

The improv troupe Mixxed Nutts bears an off-putting label and works from a stage that belongs to another show. But no matter. “A Party With Mixxed Nutts,” performed by an all-black comedy ensemble, is a professional, fresh and funny late-night excursion at the Richmond Shepard Theater.

The members’ talents were nurtured in the Harvey Lembeck Comedy Workshop. Their debut in an Equity Waiver house is without set, lighting or sound design--the producers might at least have backed the artists with a scrim to lock them into their own world--but there’s no denying the players’ quickness, wit, their deft characterizations, their sassiness and alternating wholesomeness.

The three-man, three-woman cast bills itself as the area’s only black improvisation group. That’s probably true but beside the point. The material is black-themed in patches, as in a scripted number, “Say What?,” and a few other ethnic brushstrokes, yet the majority of the exercises eschews black culture, as in wondrous-eyed Ron Trice’s audition for the Gong Show and an audience-suggested cup- and-saucer routine that turns sexy by Roxanne Reese and Lou Adams.

Other performers, equally crafty, are Michelle Davison, Cheryl Harvey and Cal Gibson, the group’s founder.

Performances at 6848 Santa Monica Blvd., Hollywood, are Fridays and Saturdays, 10:30 p.m., through June 14; (213) 462-9399.

‘JULIUS CAESAR’

Actor Walt Beaver’s Julius Caesar quietly mirrors an imperialist whose creative imagination appears a bit dulled when he falls to conspiratorial knives as he nears the age of 58.

Not a robust portrait, this Caesar in the Globe Playhouse at the Shakespeare Society of America is a dictator whose weaknesses (as Shakespeare wrote them) are softly illumined by a benign manner and aging gait. The play’s central issue, social order (Caesar) vs. a plea for liberty (the doctrinaire republican Brutus), could be better focused in the production. But clear diction compensates.

Delbert Spain’s direction is paced with sufficient speed and a clean line prevails. The production is competent as opposed to riveting.

Armand Asselin’s Mark Antony is deceptively compelling; his oratory in the famous crowd scene is ripe with manipulative passion. Anthony Embeck’s Cassius em-bodies leanness and hunger; Gary Allen Poe’s Brutus is a touch bland but vocally persuasive. The imperial women (Katherine Henryk and Janet Newberry) are beauteous but hard to tell apart.

The assassination is awash in white and red, and Caesar’s spirit hovers over the last half of the play. But a greater manipulation of light and shadow in the murder scene would greatly augment the sense of danger.

Performances at 1107 N. Kings Road, West Hollywood, are Thursdays through Sundays, 8 p.m., through June 7; (213) 654-5623.

‘HEART OF A DOG’

This one-woman West Coast premiere is scattered with stabbing images: “Death’s blue bubble from nose to chin.” It also dramatizes its self-described mental landscape: “Midnight in the mind of an artist.”

That artist is the playwright herself, Terry Galloway (who has performed the autobiographical role in New York). Her character is deaf, and she is talking to her dog about her manic life: “What is the proper etiquette for suicide?”

The dog is a huge model of that great old Victor symbol, a cutting irony. But actress Debbie Devine and director Ivan Spiegel, who staged that moving Sylvia Plath piece a few years back, “Letters Home,” are unable to make compelling the playwright’s “clamorous humiliation.”

Devine, twitching her foot, snapping her fingers in a jazz beat, sipping beer amidst litter, is strident, arch, cynical, occasionally touching, but never warm or funny--intended qualities dearly missed. The one-act is grueling and pretentious. Perhaps it takes the playwright herself to pull it off.

Performances at 2330 Sawtelle Blvd., West Los Angeles, are Thursdays through Sundays, 8:30 p.m., until June 29; (213) 478-0898.

‘MANDRAGOLA’

Machiavelli’s early 16th-Century bawdy farce, “Mandragola,” has continued to have contemporary appeal. But that’s hard to tell from this hammy production at the Off Ramp Theater.

Director Helen Borgers allows the actors to play to the audience rather than to each other. The plot is amusing: A gullible old man (Wayne Winton) is duped into approving an adulterous tryst between his wife (Leah Joki) and a desperate lover (Stephen Wilbur).

Too many of the eight-member company are caught in a parody instead of a character. The single amusing creation in the show is Ray O’Connor’s friar but he’s not from Renaissance Italy. The production’s stilted style is quaintly vaudevillian. Machiavelli’s cynicism loses its sting. Set (albeit flappy) and costumes by Libby Jacobs are in-period.

Performances at 1953 Cahuenga Blvd., Hollywood, are Thursdays through Sundays, 8 p.m., Sunday matinee, 2:30 p.m., through May 24; (213) 498-1982.