‘Zombie Attack’ at Cast; ‘Bells’ at Norris; ‘Frankenstein’ at International City; ‘Woyzeck’ at Waterfront

“Zombie Attack” has arrived, just in time for Halloween. It won’t be ghoulish enough for the Freddie or Wes Craven crowds, but then, they’re not known to frequent the Cast Theatre. For the rest of us, Justin Tanner and Andy Daley’s take on horror zombie movies is a funky, snide spoof that takes no prisoners and leaves no cliche unturned.

The subtitle for “Zombie Attack” could be “thirtysomething Nightmare,” as three young couples see a weekend at the late Aunt Eva’s cabin turn into a carnivorous adventure. Left alone before the living-dead neighbors decide to drop by for a visit, Cory and Buda and Shannon and Gary and Speed and Crystal start going for each other’s throats. It’s a great chance to skewer the middle-class aspirations of young adults, just as Tanner skewered lumpen proletariat types in his “Still Life With Vacuum Cleaner.” Tanner and Daley, who have a nose for hip camp, laugh all the way to the grave--and back.

They stick to a movie format, including bookending prologue and epilogue scenes, no curtain call, and constant good-natured winking at the so-bad-it’s-good style of B flicks. (To improve on this, programs shouldn’t be passed out until we leave, and the 80-minute show should move to late Friday and Saturday nights).

The direction, for all that, could be sharper, but the actors maintain the right attitude (watch Nanci Feldman flip out, and Joe Seely, French Stewart and Jamie Tolbert flip-flop in sneaky double roles). Watch, too, how Daley’s whole homey set is used and how Maro Hakopian’s costumes get funnier and bloodier.

At 804 N. El Centro Ave., on Fridays and Saturdays, 8 p.m., Sundays, 7 p.m., through Nov. 19. Tickets: $10; (213) 462-0265.

‘Bells Are Ringing’

“Bells Are Ringing” brought us those near-standards, “Just in Time” and “The Party’s Over.” The Betty Comden-Adolph Green book and lyrics and Jule Styne music also store, in time capsule form, the banal innocence of the 1950s. The capsule is again being opened at the Norris Theatre.

You do wonder why. The fun part of Stan Mazin’s production is looking at Nancy Dussault prance her perky best around the stage as Ella, a charming do-gooder, while thinking that this same actress did a Broadway stint as the Witch in “Into the Woods.” That’s a lot more interesting than the sophomoric dancing and subplots that try to upstage the central boy-meets-girl story (Ed Evanko, in mediocre voice, is the “boy”).

The program informs us that this show, by the Norris’ resident theater group, the New Place Theatre Company, “is by far the most ambitious production undertaken to date in terms of cast, cost and complexity.” Could be, but those aren’t the words for Ray Finnell’s sad-looking set or David Potter’s out-of-tune orchestra.

At Crossfield Drive and Indian Peak Road, Palos Verdes, tonight, 8 p.m., Saturday, 2:30 and 8 p.m., Sunday, 2:30 and 7 p.m. Tickets: $19-$27.50; (213) 544-0403.

‘Frankenstein’

Elaine Gerdine’s and Jay Julian’s version of Mary Shelley’s hypnotic novel, “Frankenstein,” at International City Theatre, is an extraordinary miscalculation on almost every level.

An exception is the casting: Robert Petkoff becomes properly anguished as Frankenstein; Robert Kennard gives eloquent voice to the Creature’s misery; and Alicia Wollerton’s Elizabeth personifies innocence. The performances lack staying power, though, because they are lost in a larger concept.

Julian has stated that his idea for this “Frankenstein” was to introduce the elements of a Greek chorus and dance movement. An idea is one thing; a stage picture is another. And the stage pictures here become unintentionally comic in the extreme. In one scene, the eight-person chorus, uniformly dressed in leotards of sickly flesh color and directed in every movement cliche from bad experimental theater scream “Fatigue!” and fall to the ground right after Frankenstein utters the same word.

Then there’s the burial of Frankenstein’s beloved William, attended by the immediate family in their Victorian best (Cathy Crane-McCoy did the costumes). So why are a leotard-clad pair lowering William’s casket into the grave? Julian’s concept argues that they represent extensions of the Creature as well as the creator’s dark side. Intriguing notions matter little, though, when they look this silly on stage.

They look sillier through a thick fog of dry ice, with Justus Matthews’ thunderingly dull synthesizer as music backup. And curiously enough, with all the effects, Don Gruber’s scaffold and platform set is barely exploited.

Gerdine and Julian unreasonably adumbrate Shelley’s novel, as the story’s most dramatic passages are jettisoned and replaced with breast-beating soliloquys that restate the obvious. A wish: that this show is a mere lapse in the life of a usually sensible theater.

At Long Beach City College, Clark Avenue and Harvey Way, on Fridays and Saturdays, 8 p.m., Sundays, 2 and 7:30 p.m. (no mat. Nov. 12), through Nov. 12. Tickets: $10; (213) 420-4128.

‘Woyzeck’

Turning the self-tortured title character of Georg Buchner’s “Woyzeck” into an undocumented Mexican worker, as adapter Charles A. Duncombe Jr. has done for Frederique Michel’s production at the new Waterfront Stage, is nothing compared to some past “Woyzecks.” (One version ended with the pathetic soldier standing trial instead of drowning.)

Duncombe’s identity change works from the angle of alienation, although it’s puzzling to see Victor Trevino’s Woyzeck in a military uniform handling toxic waste. Still, updating shouldn’t make Buchner’s masterwork murky.

The big problems include Michel’s evident struggle to make the 24-scene play flow from transition to transition, and a listless, not always audible young cast. Trevino makes his role look as difficult as it really is, which prevents him from finding Woyzeck’s emotional center. Duncombe fills the spacious stage area with such a large set that Michel never finds a way of negotiating it, causing huge holes in her staging.

At 250 Santa Monica Pier, Santa Monica, on Thursdays through Sundays, 8 p.m., until Nov. 12. Tickets: $12.50; (213) 393-6672.