STAGE REVIEWS : PADUA HILLS FEST MOVES TO BOYD ST.

The Padua Hills Playwrights’ Festival used to take audiences on a magical mystery tour. Beginning in the afternoon and extending through sunset and into the night, the Padua pilgrims would hike from one evocative outdoor space to another. The plays were often mystifying, but the environment made them seem mysterious. The exercise and the night chill kept the playgoers awake.

This year, a radically reduced Padua Hills has moved to the Boyd Street Theatre, a cramped and airless downtown basement. Two programs of one-acts will be presented this weekend. There is no night chill at the Boyd Street; it’s up to the plays themselves to keep audiences from dozing.

It may be coincidental, but the first two pieces on the “A” program are uncharacteristically accessible by Padua standards, almost as if the playwrights understood that the venue would reduce an audience’s powers of concentration.

The evening begins with Julie Hebert’s “Strongbox.” While her adorable little girl (Alexis Petrakis) plays in the background, a young woman (Patricia Mattick) tells her single sister (Pattie Pierce Gardner) about recent trances she has experienced. During the trances, a “voice” takes her into her most “primitive place,” deep inside her psyche.

Judging from the reaction of the sister, the play serves as a primer on why this kind of psychological probing should either be done in complete privacy or under the care of a trained but disinterested therapist.

Still, when one of the sisters says “something dramatic is going on,” it doesn’t ring true. The play lacks fire. It’s nice that this woman is facing her feelings; what’s next?

What’s next is Susan Champagne’s “Take a Picture,” an amusing portrait of two unmarried couples trying to have a good time in Ensenada. This one resembles an extended Groundlings sketch more than a typical Padua Hills play.

The focus is on the two women. One (Molly Cleator) is a mousy newcomer to Los Angeles, the other (Roxanne Rogers) a quick-tempered slave to fashion. Though the cosmetic dumpiness of the former is overdone (especially if we believe her story about what she does for a living), the interplay between them is sharply etched in both the writing and the playing.

Greg Pace is ideally cast as the louder of the women’s mates, but Lee Kissman’s good looks and self-assurance seem out of place in the other man’s role.

Program “A” ends with Kelly Feeney’s “The Way a Woman Might Walk,” a picturesque but impenetrable performance piece.

“Walk” extended the evening to 3 1/2 hours Thursday, yet the audience valiantly refrained from snoring. Program “A” will be repeated tonight at 7:30, at 305 Boyd St. Tickets: $10; (213) 666-0704.