‘LYSISTROTSKY’ A LIVELY UPDATE OF A CLASSIC

Lysistrata (Elaine Vaan Hogue) wears an eye-popping aerobics outfit. Her favorite oracle speaks through the comic strip inside a gum wrapper. The sex strikers brandish water pistols instead of mere buckets of water against the men who assail them. Their goal is to stop the war between the “Yankee Doodles” and the “Wodkans,” who speak with Russian accents.

You get the idea. Ben Donenberg’s “Lysistrotsky, or Who’s on Top?” takes the Aristophanes classic through several modern hoops--and it lands on its feet, surprisingly intact. Although Donenberg changes most of the details, he respects the original’s theme, plot and spirit. Because the original was so irreverent anyway, it adapts well to such treatment.

The result is akin to what Burt Shevelove and Larry Gelbart did in “A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum” and “Frogs,” though the current production--in a parking lot next to Al’s Bar--is a long, long way from big-name ballyhoo. The Shevelove shows also benefited from Stephen Sondheim scores; Babbie Green’s wan little songs for “Lysistrotsky” don’t begin to fill the gap.

Parts of Donenberg’s adaptation and staging need adjustments: Why introduce a German woman into the Soviet-American match-up? Is it fair to either sex to pit two women against one man in a wrestling match? The ending could use a more sharply defined sense of climax. Generally, though, “Lysistrotsky” is a lithe and lively entertainment for a Sunday afternoon.

Performances are at 305 S. Hewitt St., Sundays at 2 p.m. (213) 625-0385).

‘THE RIVALS’

Unlike Donenberg, director Tom Ashworth didn’t change the title or the text of his classic comedy--”The Rivals” at the Megaw--but he did add bits of business that enrich “The Rivals” without violating it: A servant precariously shaves his master as they discuss how to lie with delicacy and discretion; an older man’s wig flies off as he declaims about his own coolness.

Everything is well thought out, and Sheridan’s tributes to romantic perversity are confidently spoken. The only element that’s slightly off is the casting of Carol Jones, too brisk and bright (and a few years too old) to play Lydia Languish.

The other actors are fine: Pat McAneny’s blustering Mrs. Malaprop, Cheryl-Ann Wilson’s fluttery Julia, Robert Dean Kozak’s bemused Captain Jack, Michael Holmes as the obstreperous Sir Anthony, Bruce Winant’s slimy Fag, and Mark Ringer and Bob Papenbrook as the naive Acres and the know-it-all O’Trigger, respectively. As Faulkland, Will Dalley has contracted the 18th-Century version of what Stephen Sondheim called the “Why-don’t-you-love-me-oh-you-do-I’ll-see-you-later blues.”

Tony Potter’s fields of colored light provide an intriguing backdrop for Jeffrey Flosi’s mobile set and Osa Danam’s period costumes.

Performances are at 17601 Saticoy St., Wednesdays through Saturdays at 8:30 p.m., Sundays at 5 p.m., through Nov. 2 (818) 881-8166).

‘DEATH OF A MINER’

A powerful story struggles to break out of Paula Cizmar’s “Death of a Miner,” and sometimes it succeeds in Lonny Chapman’s revival at the Group Rep.

Cizmar’s heroine gallantly carves out a life for herself as a coal miner--and a supervisor, at that. Yet when she’s killed in a cave-in, her widower has to fight for her death benefits. Many of the individual scenes live up to the potential of that situation--especially those that feature David Orr, who doesn’t make one false move as the troubled widower.

The play isn’t as strong as its parts, though. Its structure is unnecessarily complicated--a web of flashbacks and flash forwards that are too flashy for such a solid story. Transitions feel arbitrary, and the stakes at intermission should be greater.

Then there is the loquacious title character. From her first scene, she goes on and on about her love of the land and then about her unhappy family history. Not only does her verbosity seem out of place, but it gives us too much of her too soon. All things considered, Karen Ragan does well with the character, despite makeup and hair styling that are too urban-glamorous.

Paul Gandolfo’s set does its difficult job without too much confusion, but must a sheet serve as a door? Joe Taggart’s washed-out lights don’t hint of the scenic effects that the title character describes so often, nor is a sense of reality established when a miner takes his guitar into the mine in the opening scene.

Performances are at 10900 Burbank Blvd., Friday through Sunday at 8 p.m., through Nov. 1 (818) 769-PLAY).

‘GANGSTER LULLABY’

The detective, admitting he was stumped, turned to the audience. “Maybe you guys can help,” he said. “You’ve been here a couple of days.” His remark drew the evening’s biggest laugh; though we had really been there a mere 150 minutes, it felt like a couple of days. Actors Alley’s “The Gangster Lullaby, or Who Killed Boss Moss?” is so long and leaden that it isn’t so much a whodunit as a whocares.

It was developed out of cast improvisations, though three writers (Mark Measures, Amy Roberts and Robin Share) and two directors (Share and Measures) deserve particular blame. Apparently no one cut or otherwise edited.

At least twice too many suspects (13) may have bumped off Boss Moss. When the audience is asked to select the killer, some of the suspects receive no votes--those should be the first to get the blue pencil. And some of them not only drop clues but also sing and dance, for no reason except to prolong the evening further.

Performances are at 4334 Van Nuys Blvd., Mondays through Wednesdays at 8 p.m., through Oct. 8; (818) 986-7440).

‘WHO’S MAMA’S BABY’

“Who’s Mama’s Baby, Who’s Daddy’s Child” is an airbrushed portrait of a warm-hearted foster family, currently numbering nine.

Writer Gertrude Jeannette carefully defused every situation that might have exploded into real drama. We never meet the mother who’s trying to take back her terrified daughter from this family; we’re supposed to believe that a kid who’s already hustling his body is overnight transformed into a little lamb--and after being beaten with a belt. Running such a family can’t be this easy--or this sappy.

Jeannette made a tentative stab at turning her show into a musical, but the songs go nowhere and add nothing. The performers do add a degree of interest. Gamy L. Taylor directed.

This Cambridge Players production continues at Angeles Mesa Presbyterian Church, 3751 W. 54th St., Fridays and Saturdays at 8 p.m., Sundays at 3 p.m. (213)294-4446).