‘Rose With Two Aromas’ at Bilingual Foundation / ‘Lemming’ at Powerhouse / ‘Much Ado’ at 21st St. / ‘Two Over Easy ‘ at Off Ramp

A feminist comedy from Mexico that skewers machismo may not be revolutionary here, but dramatist Emilio Carballido’s “Rosa de Dos Aromas” (“A Rose With Two Aromas”) translates with flavor and raucous humor in its West Coast premiere.

The two-character play, alternately performed in Spanish and English by Theatre/Teatro at the Bilingual Foundation of the Arts, is a tangy production, tartly directed by Margarita Galban and deliciously performed by Irene de Bari and Maria Rubell.

They play wildly mismatched types, an urbane wife and a brassy beautician, who mutually and outrageously discover that the man they’ve come to jail to visit--the respective husband and lover in their lives, and the father of their children--is the same man.

We never see the cad because he’s in jail for molesting one of his students. (“He probably had her over the erasers and against the blackboard,” the wife bristles mockingly.) But as the satiric target of male dominance in a Latin society, the unseen philanderer is an important part of the play. Carballido, a major Mexican playwright, cleverly develops his character through the women’s scalding and often alcoholic dialogue.

The two women are not left unscathed either. They drink too much, and we see them at first as fools dutifully raising bail money. But Carballido’s thrust is to humorously signal the notion (certainly radical in a Latin country) that women can get by without men--if the macho stuff gets out of hand.

De Bari (the would-be sophisticate with the sleek apartment) and Rubell (the sexy hair stylist with the cute little beauty shop) richly leap from mutual disdain to a giddy state of sisterhood that is winning because the actresses (who perform in both Spanish and English) are wonderful together.

They breezily overcome a plot that is predictable from start to finish and that brazenly telescopes its twist ending. The rangy set design by Estela Scarlata is clean-lined and stylish, and jaunty, uncredited musical transitions contribute a sense of whimsy.

The play is very popular in Mexico City, where it is still running (at the medium-sized Teatro Coyoucan) after three years.

Performances are at 421 N. Ave. 19, in English Wednesdays and Thursdays, 8 p.m., in Spanish Fridays and Saturdays, 8 p.m., and Sundays, 3 p.m., through March 27. Tickets: $12. (213) 225-4044.

‘Lemming’ at Powerhouse

“A Lemming at the Front of the Line” is an ambitious failure. The protagonist is a frustrated tour bus driver who’s fighting technology and unfeeling society. He’d rather be at sea. At one point he calls himself Ishmael, as in “Moby Dick.” Actor Gunther Jensen, in this Vox Humana world premiere at the Powerhouse, sinks under the burden of this sophomoric role.

The entitled lemmings are playwright Gordon Chavis’ metaphor for Hollywood tourists. They are played with overripe, cartoony satire and, in some instances, as crude parodies of halting foreign accents. That’s insulting enough, but to hear playgoers guffaw at a Japanese character trying to talk English, and playing it for laughs, is shocking. Any American, not just Asian-Americans, should cringe.

There is one exciting actor, Van Quattro, who plays a vaguely dangerous, garrulous, burned-out case in a bar next to the bus terminal. He’s the true spirit of the production, next to the multipurpose set design by Rafael Sanudo.

Playwright Chavis’ ending is dynamic, and director Dan Berman stages that submerged moment well, but he can’t pull this fragmented, overblown work together.

Performances at 3116 2nd St., Santa Monica, conclude tonight through Sunday, 8 p.m., with a Saturday matinee, 3 p.m. Tickets: $12; (213) 392-6529.

‘Two Over Easy’

In this showcase trifle set in the 1950s and staged at the cozy Off Ramp Theater, Juliet Mills plays a brittle Dorothy Parker-type. She is married to a homosexual (unseen) who inadvertently leaves a nice-looking young man momentarily alone in their apartment.

The wife unexpectedly returns home, finds the youth in only a towel, and one thing leads to another. The appealing hunk (co-star and real-life husband Maxwell Caulfield) doesn’t leave. Romance blooms, the youth starts dressing up and making Hollywood casting calls until the desperate, boozing older woman realizes it won’t work and kicks him out.

Playwright Tom O’Malley gives Mills loads of fast, crackling and not unfunny one-liners. But they are relentless. No one talks like this except stand-up comics. Mills can’t animate her cut-out, cliche character. Neither could Dorothy Parker.

Caulfield, who plays the first act with no shirt, is OK to bland in a thankless role. The real star is the third character, a heaven-sent relief of a crab apple landlady (hilariously essayed by Dorothy Constantine) who lusts after the guy with the pecs. Technical credits are fine.

Performances at 1953 N. Cahuenga Blvd., run Thursdays and Fridays at 8 p.m., Saturdays at 5 and 8 p.m., Sundays at 2 p.m., indefinitely. Tickets: $15; (213) 465-0700.

‘Much Ado About Nothing’

The 21st Street Theater, which has enjoyed success in its eight seasons staging several contemporary British comedies, expands its repertoire for the first time to Shakespeare. It’s a gamble that is only moderately successful.

The pastoral lilt is not here. Director Carl Walsh, setting the play in 1820 Italy, has a sassy, well-spoken Beatrice (Kerry Gabbert) and a cynical if roughly modulated Benedick (Marc Royston). But their transition to love is too abrupt. And in the love-scarred subplot of Claudio and Hero, Kiloh Fairchild’s reaction to the supposed death of Hero lacks anguish.

Brief textual cuts by Walsh are harmless, but production values are spare. The show needs music, aurally and scenically. The most damaging austerity is Tony Falconi and actor Fairchild’s curiously empty set design: a clean rectangle of a whitewashed wooden stage with a bench next to a yellow slab passing for a garden wall, all of it set off by a purplish scrim. There goes the atmosphere, and the actors are hard-pressed to fill the void. The costumes may be 1820 Italy but, like the set, they are flavorless coats and buckles.

Line readings are intelligible, not soaring. Ironically, a minor player (Stan Goldman’s sexton) delivers the best Shakespeare. The villains (Sam O’Neal’s dour Don John and Stephen Speidel’s gruff Boracchio) contribute textured portraits.

Performances are at 11350 Palms Blvd. (Windward School), Fridays and Saturdays, 8 p.m., Sundays, 7 p.m., through April 10. Tickets: $8; (213) 827-5655.