Burns at EZTV / ‘In Same Breath’ at Theatre of Arts / “Oh, Doctor!” in Beverly Hills / ‘Side by Side by Sondheim’ at Hidden Hills Playhouse

Gregory Ian Burns combines white-bread good looks with a rye-bread wit. He’s perfectly cast in his own “Grazing With Frankenstein,” three spoofs of middle-American folkways, at the video gallery EZTV.

The show begins with “Ranger Greg,” who presents a brief lecture on how to survive in the wilderness, complete with video visual aids. The satire is mild, and the performance is unflappable, including a presumably unscripted question-and-answer session with the audience.

The comedy is more pointed in “Eddie Bovine and ‘The Power of Moo.’ ” Burns changes from his ranger uniform into a suit and tie and becomes an aggressive self-help guru, trying to sell us on the value of his costly seminars.

He poses the question: How can cows be so productive (in the milk department) and yet so content? Could it be their language? Soon we’re mooing along with Eddie and his charming wife, Nikki (Andi Matheny), who wears a name tag on her bare skin, just over the top of her black strapless gown.

Finally, in “Frankenstein,” Burns plays a Nebraska 15-year-old and his high school counselor, as they meet on Career Day. The boy tries to justify his decision to become an actor by re-creating his impromptu performance as Frankenstein, which he cooked up one afternoon at home, after seeing the movie. Burns’ audience is more impressed than the counselor.

Stefan Haves directed, assisted by Anna Grier’s videos and Andy Ross’ music and sound effects. EZTV isn’t much of a theater, but it does resemble the sort of place that might attract Ranger Greg or Eddie Bovine.

Two performances remain, at 8547 Santa Monica Blvd., West Hollywood, tonight and Thursday at 8 p.m. Tickets: $7; (213) 466-1767.

’ . . . In the Same Breath’

This program of seven short one-acts that were originally developed at the Actors Theatre of Louisville is an illuminating showcase for playwright Murphy Guyer, director Robert Spera, and some bright young actors.

Guyer’s “Loyalties” is the only play on the program at the Theatre of Arts that rises above the showcase category. A quiet dinner party erupts into a heated political argument, capped by a stunning surprise ending. The cast--Ron Brooks, Deborah Cowles Scott, Leah Robling and Tom Wiggin--helps make the denouement simultaneously unexpected and plausible.

Director Spera delivers a beautifully timed comic performance in Guyer’s “The Interrogation,” a meeting between two ex-lovers. Lauri Kempson also shines in this one, as well as in Mary Gallagher’s “Perfect,” an amusing conversation between two young women who try to gauge whether a potential lover is politically correct.

There are few surprises in Jason Milligan’s “Shoes” or Daniel Meltzer’s “Intermission,” but they’re well done, except for a slight hesitancy at the end of “Shoes.” The two non-realistic pieces are the program’s duds: John Patrick Shanley’s “Bad News on a Cracked Plate,” which is bad news indeed, and Jim Luigs’ “Cryptus and Cinerea,” a labored parody of an Elizabethan blood bath.

Performances are at Theatre of Arts, 4128 Wilshire Blvd., Thursdays through Saturdays at 8 p.m., Sundays at 7 p.m. Tickets: $10; (213) 466-1767. ‘Oh, Doctor!’

On the heels of a Caribbean version of Moliere’s “The Doctor in Spite of Himself” (“De Obeah Mon”) comes a burlesque version, circa 1937. Maybe some day we’ll see the French version, circa 1666.

“Oh, Doctor!,” adapted and directed by Kenneth Mars at the Beverly Hills Playhouse, is a creditable revival of its chosen style--complete with double entendres and other disreputable one-liners, mugging (Laurie Faso), leering (Kip King), cheesecake (Nikki Collins). As Count Boujolais Deboudoir, straight from the Borscht Belt, Herb Corben swallows a few words, but otherwise the jokes come across without strain.

Which is not to say that the audience finds them all that funny. For example, after an actor referred to “syntax,” another one replied, “You mean they got a tax on that now?” Dead silence.

Costumer K. Pikke Allen’s baggy pants outfits and Will Ryan’s clever incidental music try to create the right atmosphere, but it may be that Beverly Hills, 1987, just isn’t the right place and time for this sort of thing. We should be forced to surrender helplessly to riotous laughter, despite our better judgment, but our better judgment prevails too often at “Oh, Doctor!”

Performances are at 254 S. Robertson Blvd., Beverly Hills, Fridays through Sundays at 8 p.m., Sunday matinees at 3. Tickets: $14.50-$18; (213) 465-0070. ‘Side by Side by Sondheim’

Going to the Hidden Hills Playhouse is like taking “A Weekend in the Country,” which may be why Robert Schrock included that number from “A Little Night Music” in his revised version of “Side by Side by Sondheim.” But otherwise his editing doesn’t make much sense, and only two of his six singers are consistently capable of handling the material.

Those two are young and dashing Brad Craig, who justifies Schrock’s haphazardly placed inclusion of “Bring Me My Bride” from “A Funny Thing . . . ,” and Don Alan Croll, who skillfully sails through most of the flustered middle-aged male solos.

Bill DeLand’s voice isn’t up to the demands of “Too Many Mornings.” His “I’m Still Here” sounds better, but it also sounds odd for a man to recall when he “danced in my scanties.” Surely one of the women could have done this one.

Then again, Kathleen Dawson is too hyped-up for most of her songs, and her voice sounds fragile. Susannah Sofaer doesn’t have enough calluses to do “Broadway Baby.” Suzanne Battaglia’s voice is right for the ballads (though her phrasing could loosen up), but she lacks the style for lighter material.

Frank Basile delivers expert accompaniment, and Schrock’s staging is smooth. But why did he resurrect “There’s Always a Woman,” which may be the worst song Sondheim ever wrote?

Performances are at 24549 Long Valley Road, Hidden Hills, Fridays through Sundays at 8 p.m., through Nov. 21. Tickets: $12; (818) 992-4164).