ACTOR BRIAN KERWIN PREFERS STAGE

For the next few days, Brian Kerwin would prefer not to hear the word ape. The star of Dino DeLaurentiis’ coming epic “King Kong Lives” is trying very hard to concentrate on his opening Thursday in Steve Metcalfe’s “Strange Snow” at the Coast Playhouse.

“But,” he said haplessly, “Dino’s company keeps calling, saying, ‘We want you over at the zoo.’ ”

The movie, he explained, “is your basic ‘Kong’ film, except that this time, I play the Jessica Lange (love interest) role. Kong isn’t really dead; he’s in a coma. They give him a heart transplant, but he needs a blood transfusion, so I go off to get another Kong--and it turns out to be a female, who takes a liking to me. We’re the heroes, the Army’s the bad guys ‘cause they want to kill the apes. The apes are friendly but misunderstood. And when they get shot at, they get vicious.”

All of which serves as a welcome counterpoint to his portrayal of a Vietnam veteran in “Snow,” which he originated in a bravura performance at the Old Globe in 1984.

“The thing about doing it again,” he noted, “is that you end up being haunted by what you did in the past. I did a run-through the first day and when I got lost, I could fall back on this peculiar cushion: what I did in San Diego. That’s bad. I wish I could get some kind of memory erase/lobotomy and just start fresh.

“Hey, we may be making the biggest mistake in the world, trying to fix something that ain’t broke. But even though what we did down there played like gangbusters, I always felt there was no need to rehash it. That was beautiful--but if I’m going to do it again, I’d like to find a new angle, maybe bring a little more wealth to it.”

The story of Megs’ reunion with a former Army buddy (now living a “lousy, secluded, reclusive” life with his spinster sister), was instantly affecting to Kerwin, 37.

“I was a no-holds-barred draft evader from ‘68-’72,” he emphasized. “I went to college every bit I could. There was no way I was going to go over there (Vietnam). And I was into the whole hippie thing, flashing peace signs, protesting the war. But for some reason I still have very strong feelings about the awful injustice that went on, what they did to all those men. I still can’t forgive the government for what it did--and really, it did nothing to me.”

At the time, Kerwin was at USC Film School. He was admitted “during the days when all you had to do was show up and say, ‘Hi, I’m a cinema major.’ ” After graduation (and a few acting classes, “just as a lark”), he moved to Oregon and a succession of jobs: in the forest service, for Bird’s Eye vegetables and Carnation dog food. (“ That was a fascinating job,” he said. “I estimated that I lifted 21 tons of frozen meat every day.”)

Later in New York, the Illinois native tried his hand at running a handcrafts store, as a street musician and furniture builder.

Back in Los Angeles, Kerwin took a stab at screenwriting, had a job as an usher at Mann’s Chinese Theatre, and gradually found himself being drawn into the then-undeveloped theater scene. A revival of “Loss of Roses” garnered “better reviews than my mother could’ve written,” and agents took notice. “The next year I made two features, two pilots, two miniseries, two movies for TV. So one little Equity Waiver play made this boy’s career.”

Yet, after a two-year stint on TV’s “Sheriff Lobo” (“It had its drawbacks, but it paid bucks and bucks”), Kerwin found he had to prove himself again: “The type of person I am, the way I look--I’m perfect fodder for the television mill. I wanted to avoid that. I wanted to be an actor , I wanted to do it right. ‘Cause TV ain’t acting.

“Thank God I held out for ‘Torch Song Trilogy,’ ” he added. (Kerwin played the fickle Ed in the 1984 staging at the Huntington Hartford.) “Before that play, I couldn’t even get a meeting for ‘The Right Stuff.’ Afterwards, Neil Simon, Brian DePalma and Francis Coppola wanted to meet with me. The one that panned out was Marty Ritt (who cast him opposite Sally Field in 1985’s ‘Murphy’s Romance’).”

“Somehow, being on the stage adds credibility,” he mused. “For my money, I’d rather be there anyway. That’s where the fun is.”