‘ORINOCO’: MYSTERIOUS JOURNEY DOWN A RIVER

In “Orinoco,” over-the-hill showgirls Fifi and Mina, adrift on a tramp steamer on an exotic South American river, can’t understand the sudden and mysterious disappearance of their captain and crew. They awake to an empty ship, stare out at the passing lush jungle and talk, cavort, yell, even dance. No one is at the helm. Where is the boat taking them?

As you might have surmised, the journey is symbolic, the mood dreamlike, the tone non-realistic. “Orinoco” (named after a river in Venezuela) was written in 1979 by popular Mexican playwright Emillio Carballido. His plays have been a liberating influence in Mexican theater, so long drenched in traditional realism.

Staged in both Spanish and English by Theatre/Teatro at the Bilingual Foundation of the Arts, “Orinoco” is a welcome West Coast premiere. But the production, a two-woman romp by actresses Carmen Zapata and Laura James (Marie Curi replaces James in the Spanish-language version), is a fractured and exhausting experience.

Director Margarita Galban gives Zapata and James too much rope. One of the play’s surprises--and its conscious intent--is its humor (imagine Carol Burnett and Lucille Ball aboard the river vessel in Conrad’s “Heart of Darkness” and you get the idea). But Zapata, for all her dramatic credentials, appears awkward and miscast as a tattered, blowzy, cynical cabaret entertainer. James is much better as the rosier character, but she also needs shading. The pair’s dance sequences are conceptually on the mark but resemble self-congratulatory showcase turns.

Physically the production benefits from a sharp deck-side ambiance, vague netherworld lighting, garish dresses, and a musical touch (by Dixon Hughes) that winsomely underscores the mingling of illusion and reality. The English translation is by Margaret Peden.

Performances at 421 N. Avenue 19, in Spanish on Wednesday, Friday, 8 p.m.; matinee, Sunday, 3 p.m. English: Thursday, Saturday, 8 p.m., through Nov. 30, (213) 225-4044.

‘HIGH HOPES’

Another kind of fantasy theater is the domestic comedy that is so slick it is absurd for the wrong reasons. “High Hopes,” at the Eagle Theater in Beverly Hills, is glib and too often farcical. Nevertheless, production values are smart.

The catch here is that two gay women (played brightly enough by Katie Mitchell and Susan Kohler) decide to have a baby. They have been hiding their relationship from their parents, who think their daughters are mere roommates. It’s time to tell conventional Mom and Dad, who are ill-prepared, to put it mildly.

Adding to the merriment is the obliging brother of one of the lesbian lovers. A real pal, he offers to commingle with his sister’s lover and father the baby. No test tube baby for this family!

All this occurs in a comfortable Manhattan apartment. Characters slam doors, scream, glower, nervously endure the human carnival. Playwright Julianne Gavin and director Susan Obrow skate through the lesbian issue with a measure of aplomb. But the experience is too glossy, like watching a Mary Tyler Moore sitcom with a perverse plot twist.

What’s interesting is that if the play’s gay lovers were men in the same predicament, the play would be dated and corny. But since the angle is gay women, the play is supposed to fly. It doesn’t. But the effort to draw human comedy from lesbian anxiety is a welcome and fresh departure and, in that sense, the play is a beat ahead of its time.

Mitchell and Kohler impressively work against stereotypes, and the bemused character of the brother is deftly performed by Peter Schreiner.

Performances at 182 N. Robertson Blvd., Thursday through Saturday, 8 p.m.; Sunday, 7 p.m., (213) 465-0070. Runs indefinitely.

‘FEVER OF AN UNKNOWN ORIGIN’

Plays about AIDS can be traced back to “Nightsweat,” which opened in New York in May, 1984. Shortly thereafter, before “The Normal Heart” and “As Is,” there was Steven Holt’s “Fever of an Unknown Origin,” originally staged two years ago at the Theater for the New City in New York. The West Coast debut of Holt’s play is at the Fifth Estate Theater, receiving a so-so production from a so-so cast.

These plays, plus others that have contributed to a dramatic mini-wave, share a mission. But a mission with little art, even on such a gigantic subject as AIDS, can be informational at best. And that’s the extent of the achievement in this local production of “Fever. . . .”

The play deals with a rejected lover who returns to comfort an AIDS victim during his dying days. Holt’s writing is itself insightful. But director John Callahan’s staging is clumsy, too many of the performances are cliched, and the central and true lover of the victim is an unbearably whimpering, tiresome, fawning caricature of slobbering devotion. Such misdirection shoots down the work’s credibility. But among the eight-member cast, Jim Casey as the golden boy-turned-victim, Max Phillips’ durable buddy and Waide Riddle’s callow, self-serving hustler create some telling images. A cramped stage and tattered production design put everyone in harm’s way.

Performances at 1707 N. Kenmore Ave., Hollywood, Thursday through Saturday, 7 p.m. (213) 666-0434. Runs indefinitely.

‘DIG HERE FOR MONEY’

Al’s National Theater is truly a different theater. But it’s such an authentic dive, sharing space with Al’s Bar in downtown Los Angeles’ warehouse district, that a play dealing with hookers and pushers takes on a life that it couldn’t have anywhere else.

James O’Connor’s “Dig Here for Money” is terribly overwritten and trite; but actor Leopoldo (Papi) Mandeville is the man, a jive man, that is, the king of pimps. His clothes and gold chain may be a generation out of style, but the picture of the exploited seems off the streets.

The prostitute in this grab bag is Crystal. She’s tough, and actress Zelma Livingston, as a sudden replacement last weekend, admirably negotiated her role, compelled as she was to reading lines from a hand-held script.

Crystal’s tormentor is her crazed, religious sister, a emotionally crippled believer who tries to reform the neighborhood. Stephanie O’Connor is well cast in the role but unfortunately burdened with too many relentlessly strident Christian tirades. Her character demolishes the play, but actress O’Connor captures the feverish vaguely demented look of the zealot. Ray Adams is a second-string pimp. And Peter Drain directed.

The audience sits at tables, and drinks are available during the show. Push aside the black curtain and buy ‘em at Al’s. And if it’s not too noisy out in the bar, you can follow the dialogue on stage.

Performances at Hewitt and Traction streets, matinees only, Saturday and Sunday, 3 p.m., through Nov. 9, (213) 484-0290.