‘Goldfish’ at Mise En Scene; One Acts at Theatre/Theater; ‘Loft Maiden’ at Al’s Bar; Improv at Theatre/Theater; ‘Distant Skies’ at Ensemble Studio

James Johnston’s “The Goldfish Bowl,” at Mise En Scene Theatre, is a barroom play to end barroom plays. A slice of raw naturalism, set in a bar on the Chicago Southside in 1967, its characters are so pathetic and so profane that they are likely to drive some theatergoers to forswear alcohol-tinged plays, and alcohol itself, forever.

Nevertheless, Gerald Castillo’s staging of this one-act never falls into a drunken stupor. It bristles with energy. True, it’s the energy of mean-spirited people trying to outfox each other and delude themselves. Or, to use the name of the bar and the analogy of the title, it’s the energy of imprisoned little fish swimming around their bowl. But it is a form of energy.

Perhaps some of the interest kicked up by this play stems from the sheer ugliness of the language. People who believe they’re accustomed to foul-mouthed plays may be in for a surprise. Johnston’s dialogue makes David Mamet’s sound refined. But it doesn’t feel fake, coming out of these characters--and that’s what counts.

The characters include a weaselly bartender (Jon Sharp), a pair of race-track shysters (Jay Richardson, Robert Ruth), a woman who tries to be one of the guys (Susan Kussman), a has-been small-time gangster (Al Bordighi), and a wealthy interloper (Robert Morris) and his hot-to-trot young wife (Robin Sims). Most of the action consists of people humiliating each other and pretending it doesn’t matter. Eventually, it matters.

The curtain-raiser, James W. Blinn’s “The Truth About Fidelity,” isn’t as slimy as “The Goldfish Bowl,” but it’s at least as cynical. A married couple meets an old college chum in a bar, amid thoughts of hanky-panky. The “truth about fidelity” is that it doesn’t exist.

Castillo’s “Fidelity” cast seems somewhat mismatched. Nor is the play well-crafted. The characterizations are strained to make a point (the venal money-grubber is named “Yeshiva Carrey”--is this anti-Semitic, anti-Irish, or what?), and the plot’s final gimmick is unbelievable and superfluous.

There are no playwright bios in the program; in fact, Johnston and Blinn are listed in the “Special Thanks” category at the end, along with the program photographer and other marginal notables. Johnston, in particular, deserves better.

At 11305 Magnolia Blvd., North Hollywood, Wednesdays through Saturdays at 8 p.m., Sundays at 2 p.m., through Nov. 13. $5-$10; (818) 762-2276.

‘Word Crimes’

Theatre/Theater is presenting three one-acts under the blanket title “Word Crimes,” which is also the name of the last and best play on the program.

In Gilbert Girion’s play of that title, three small-time hoods (Nick Flynn, John Nesci, John Pappas), waiting for the next step in a complicated criminal endeavor, engage in card games and unintentionally funny small talk. Jan Munroe directed his able actors with a keen ear--and a keen eye, too--for ragtag comedy.

Pappas wrote and directed the curtain-raiser, “Death and Taxes,” an intriguing absurdist duet performed by Nesci and Joe Kane. This one also has men shooting the breeze while waiting for what might be a criminal enterprise, but it’s slighter than Girion’s play, and also more stylized and mysterious.

The other piece on the program, Robert Hummer’s “Missing Dog,” is a total loss. Despite the presence of some well-regarded names (Tina Preston, Harvey Perr) in the cast, this satire of two socialites whose poodle is being held for ransom seemed so pointless and so shoddily performed last Friday that no one in the audience ventured so much as a single clap after it was over. Hummer directed.

At 1715 Cahuenga Blvd., Thursdays and Fridays at 10 p.m., through Dec. 16. $10; (213) 871-0210.

‘Loft Maiden’

The parking lot next to Al’s Bar, in the downtown loft district, is an ideal venue for “Loft Maiden,” a musical about an artist and her downtown loft. But “Loft Maiden” isn’t nearly as funky or eccentric as one would would expect from the location and the subject.

Instead, it’s not much more than a pleasant sitcom about a young single woman (Karen Detweiler), with the usual annoying and/or amorous neighbors, all of whom happen to be artists. One number, in which building inspectors dance into the loft to harass our heroine, is strikingly similar to scenes in “Mail.”

Writer Marc Kreisel makes a few comments about the vulnerability of artists to landlords, dealers and dilettantes, but he doesn’t say much about art itself. “Sunday in the Park With George” this isn’t.

The music, by Elizabeth Balogh and Scott Hitchings, adds some sex appeal to the proceedings, which are never less than smoothly staged by David Ruprecht and Miguel Delgado. But the sense, if not the sound, of the score stumbles in the second half, especially in a finale that, rather than summing up the story, takes it off into a subsidiary tangent.

At 305 S. Hewitt St., Fridays and Saturdays at 8 p.m., through Nov. 19. $12; (213) 680-2020.

‘An Evening on Thin Ice’

The comedy group Thin Ice aims for more than the usual improv program in “An Evening on Thin Ice,” Fridays at Theatre/Theater. It attempts to give us a “Noises Off” of the improv world, a look at what happens backstage before, during and after the improvs.

The backstage scenes, largely scripted in advance, dramatize the fictionalized personalities within the group more than they let us in on the secrets of improv. The characters are mildly funny, and these scenes work tolerably well.

That’s more than could be said for the improvised scenes themselves last Friday. Most of the improvs went nowhere, slowly, arousing not many laughs in the process. The best moments were Doug Stone’s.

At 1713 Cahuenga Blvd., Hollywood, Fridays at 11 p.m., indefinitely. $7; (213) 871-0210.

‘Under Distant Skies’

Jeffrey Kinghorn’s “Under Distant Skies,” at the Ensemble Studio Theatre, is a rather murky and forlorn one-act about a troubled Vietnam War veteran (Chris Hendrie) and the man (Carter Cole) who would love him.

They show up at a seedy hotel to keep a rendezvous with a prostitute (Lisa Robins), whom the vet has asked to simulate a Vietnamese woman he once knew. Plenty of action, including some knife-wielding and some ledge-walking, many stories up, results, but the play never comes to life in Charles Parks’ staging. Kinghorn’s dialogue tends to be repetitive and overwrought, and the performances follow suit.

At 1089 N. Oxford Ave., Thursdays through Sundays at 8 p.m., through Nov. 20. $10; (213) 466-2916.