LANDMARK’S ADAPTATION OF FAULKNER NOVEL

William Faulkner’s complex novel “The Sound and the Fury” would appear to defy adaptation. But co-adapters D. Paul Yeuell and Anthony Grumbach, Faulkner freaks since their days at Stanford, are adventurers in audacity.

“June Second” at the Landmark Theater has one big audience problem: If you are unfamiliar with “The Sound and the Fury” (1929) and Faulkner’s overlapping folds of time and stream of consciousness, the play’s emotional edge would appear to be considerably dulled.

The good news is that the show is strongly acted, by an ensemble of 10 actors playing 32 characters, and artfully directed by Yeuell.

The text goes to the heart of the book: the second of the story’s four sections, entitled “June 2, 1910.” It unravels the Southern familial roots of the anguished Quentin Compson (Grumbach) as he moves through the final day of his freshman year at Harvard. Psychologically, the youth is locked into an obsessive, incestuous love for his sister Caddy, whose rebelliousness and sexuality are impressively shaded by Stephanie Shroyer.

One of the troupe, Geoff Elliot, essays five roles equally well. His mercurial shift from the idiot Compson son Benjy to the rural Mississippi stud Dalton Ames (who impregnates Caddy and thereby enrages the brooding Quentin) is superb theater.

Developed at the Pacific Theatre Ensemble, “June Second” does capture the non-linear, disjointed style of the novel. Essentially, the adapters eschew Faulkner’s free associative grammar and syntax and most of his exposition and wisely stick to the dialogue.

It’s fun to hear how Faulkner’s well known characters might speak. Production design (Robert Mestman), costumes (Kitty Murphy), and music (Joanne Metcalf) warmly convey the sense of period.

But Faulkner’s theme of incest, peculiarly Southern here and tied as it is to the preservation and purity of the Compson family, is lost on the stage.

The fact that Quentin commits suicide needs stronger definition. And it’s baffling that the character of Herbert, the opportunistic Northerner and Caddy’s fiance, is cast with a black actor (Harold Surratt). The daughter of a declining aristocratic Southern family in 1910 wouldn’t do such a thing.

As the fated anti-hero, Grumbach employs a youthful sweetness that blends nicely with his Angst . Robert Jacobs’ Harvard roommate, Deeana Pampena’s quintet of vignettes, and Thomas R. Oglesby’s patriarch lend vivid texture.

Performances at First United Methodist Church, 6817 Franklin Ave., Thursday through Saturday, 8 p.m.; Sunday, 7 p.m., through July 12, (213) 466-1767. Tickets: $12.

‘A COUPLA OF GUYS WHO GOTTA DO SHOW’

Billed as a new vaudeville comedy, this production at the Powerhouse Theater is a jaunty late Saturday night diversion.

Writer/performers Dick Monday and Barry Lubin, who met while circus clowns, have perfected their teamwork to so guileless a point that a “A Coupla of Guys Who Gotta Do a Show” seems an appropriately artless title.

Of course, every move has a deceptive precision. The pair’s strength is physical comedy. The tall dark Monday is multitalented, as a supreme juggler, a master pantomimist (his hilarious French mime is the show’s highlight), and as an obsequious club host. Monday has the most mobile features since Red Skelton.

The short Lubin is the gnat of the show, thrusting and parrying. He’s the perfect (tin)foil. Michael Heatherton deftly directed, except for a tacky water-spitting ventriloquist act that unfortunately closes the show.

Performances at 3116 2nd St., Santa Monica, Saturdays at l0:45 p.m., through Aug. 15, (213) 392-6529. Tickets: $6.

‘WELCOME TO ANDROMEDA’

A quadriplegic man on his 21th birthday cleverly exploits an alcoholic rent-a-nurse into unwittingly helping him commit suicide.

The material, written by Ron Whyte and briskly directed by Jeff Seymour, is the stuff of bedridden television drama. But “Welcome to Andromeda” at the Gnu Theater is also a rather wicked comedic slice of the macabre, uneventful in retrospect but moderately pleasing in the experience.

That is due to the edgy acting of Sandra Kinder as the nurse-in-over-her-head and to the staunch performance of David Officer as a determined youth who cajoles his way to a fatal needle injection.

That concluding scene is humorously accompanied by the flickering lights from a birthday cake that domineering Mom (unseen) is cheerfully carrying up the stairs. Credit lighting designers Keith Endo and Kristin Coppola.

Performances at 10426 Magnolia Blvd., North Hollywood, Thursday through Sunday, 8 p.m., through July 26, (818) 508-5344. Tickets: $12.

TWO ONE-ACTS

Light material generating only one genuine performance, the one-acts at Theater Forty really scratch the bin to make an evening of it. The nexus of the program, a pair of actors performing their own written material solo, is ultimately too self-serving.

The performers utilize spare props on a wide stage backed by a dismal black curtain. The genuine performance is J.D. Hall’s shopping cart man in “Jubie,” written by Hall and directed by Justin Lord. Hall’s cheerful character is filtered through a rosy, sentimental view of living out of a cart.

Sometimes you catch a hint of sadness in Hall’s black street character but not often enough. Hall’s is a sleight-of-hand trick.

“Duse, Heartburn and Me,” written and performed by Stephanie Satie, is curiously directed by two people, Rick Friesen and Dennie Ventriss. One gets the impression that the actress directed it.

The work is a personal, self-congratulatory monologue about a lifelong love for the theater. The production brings to life, via the image of Satie in her dressing room, the very logo which accompanies this column.

Imagine watching our Stage Beat woman applying a makeup base while very seriously telling you about her training and dreams and performances with stops along the way for tributes to Eleanora Duse, Sarah Bernhardt, and the Moscow Art Theater.

Satie, to her credit, moves around a lot. Too bad the performance lacks any conflict, any point, any tension.

Performances at 241 Moreno Drive, Beverly Hills, Monday through Wednesday, 8 p.m., through July 15, (213) 465-0070. Tickets: $6.