‘Hilarions,’ ‘Dick of Death’ at Theatre/Theater; ‘Shakespeare’ by Theatre 40; “Cut on Bias” at Donald O’Connor; ‘Crime’ at Group Rep : STAGE BEAT

Announcing “The Hilarions: Gladiators of Comedy.” We know what you’re thinking. Another L.A. comedy group? Another late night grab-bag routine of bits and pieces of topical fluff? Another bunch who think they’re funny?

Cynicism is understandable, especially in an era of generally mediocre comedy performers. Put it aside: The Hilarions think they’re funny because they are.

We’re not talking improv here, nor desperate moves to get the audience involved. The formula is simple: write short, sharp and funny; play it the same way, and get off the stage for the next routine (last Saturday had 17). If they don’t laugh at this one, there’s always the next one.

This can create a gravy train effect, or worse, a lot of watch-checking. Not at Theatre/Theater. Whether it’s Bill Fagan and Cris Franco as “The Self-Righteous Brothers” singing “Hang Down Your Head, Tom Bradley,” or Cheryl Lawyer doing a mean Tracy Chapman, or Joe McCutcheon, Christina Welsh, Michael Caldwell, Fagan and Franco playing “The Safe Dating Game,” the show maintains a media-wise, smart aleck tone. This group knows its audience’s expectations, and nudges them unpredictably.

They rifle the pop culture files like precocious kids, while seldom losing track of where the skit is going. The finale, “The Phantom of the Ahmanson,” displays this beautifully, as it both skewers the show’s plot while giving us a ticket buyer’s nightmare come true.

(Its point--that it’s next to impossible to get “Phantom” tickets--was borne out since the clever lampooning of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s score hardly elicited a laugh; apparently, few in the crowd had seen the musical.)

Rachel Winfree’s Southern characters don’t really fit in this environment of trendiness, but Michelle Watkins’ drug-snooping “Good Seed” might be the stuff of a whole evening alone. You wish that the Hilarions would add greater weight to the side of political satire--it’s sorely needed nowadays, and the little they do is as funny as the Capitol Steps’ routines. But they know when enough is enough, and, like a good host, they bid you goodby at the door.

At 1713 N. Cahuenga, on Saturdays, 10:30 p.m., through Dec. 16. Tickets: $10; (213) 960-8865.

‘Shakespeare in a Nutshell’ A title like “Shakespeare in a Nutshell” suggests a neat, brief yet thorough survey of the Bard. The Theatre 40 production, a collaboration between director/adapter Arvin Shimerman and cast, has a different agenda.

It is on the neat side, though the second act focus on “Richard II” is far from brief--a bit long in the tooth in fact. And rather than a survey, Shimerman and company posit an argument for Shakespeare, a way to view his plays. The scenes, performed in modern dress, support the hypothesis.

What is that hypothesis? That Shakespeare was a good Elizabethan, who accepted a proper hierarchy in nature as a means of realizing goodness and preventing chaos. Order, or “degree,” keeps it all in place. The watch-phrase here is from “Troilus and Cressida”: “Take but degree away, untune that string/And, hark! what discord follows.”

Actors Michael Barak, Dee Croxton, David Himes, Robert Nadder, Lary Ohlson, Flora Plumb and Stephanie Satie bridge the scenes with casual conversation about this world view, supposedly to rescue it from the academic.

It sounds too much, though, like Shakespeare-can-be-fun group talk, and the substance of the discussion tends to turn the plays into exercises in dramatizing an ideology. That the playwright was satisfied to write a wonderfully unreasonable nothing like “Comedy of Errors” and a figure of pure evil like “Othello’s” Iago show that no good theater writer toes a line, even if he writes with the Queen’s blessing.

The evening’s interesting passage is the “Richard II” sequence, which reveals Shakespeare testing the degree of royal divinity against the reasons of State. But this morally ambiguous play is ultimately no proof of Shimerman’s point. Except for Plumb’s silly, follow-the-bouncing-ball manner with Richard’s lines, the actors give a good, honest, American reading--ironic in a show that suggests a pre-American, undemocratic view of existence.

At 241 Moreno Drive Beverly Hills High School campus, Mondays through Wednesdays, 8 p.m., until Dec. 13. Free. (213) 466-1767.

‘Cut On the Bias’ It doesn’t matter if we believe that performer Donna Cameron knew the women she depicts in her solo, “Cut on the Bias,” at Donald O’Connor’s Family Theatre. We just need to believe in the women.

Some, we do. There’s the wife who tries to break a cycle of violence in her family, only to find herself whipping her own kid. Or the widow who wants to keep the good memories of her dear husband, before Alzheimer’s conquered him. Or a mother who, despite her best efforts, watches her son turn to crime.

Those are the heavy ones, which Cameron is more confident with than the light ones. This, even though Cameron is a former circus performer and dancer (and still looks in terrific shape).

It comes down, as always, to the script, and skits such as “I Just Wanna Be June Allyson,” “I Rest My Case!” or “Divorce Charleston” are either cute but dumb one-joke ideas or limp comic relief. Since Cameron can act, and since her dialogue scenes make her appear as if she’s watching a tennis match, director Vincent Sherman should get another actor to join her.

At 12655 Ventura Blvd., Studio City, Saturdays, 2 p.m., indefinitely. Tickets: $10; (213) 466-1767 or (818) 761-8448.

‘Crime Watch’ C aveat emptor . Fans of farce, starving nowadays for just one good try at the form, won’t be appeased if they see “The Neighborhood Crime Watch” at Group Repertory Theatre. What they’ll see, among other things, is a fine idea for a farce squandered by actors, a director and a playwright who lack a farcical touch.

Craig Alpaugh’s play puts a thrill-seeking burglar and his guilt-ridden partner (E. Danny Murphy and John Davoli) right in the living room of an upstanding but scared citizen (Sherry Adamo). Her brassy neighbor, Mona (Claudia Fenton), is helping her host the block’s first crime watch meeting. The joke is that the guests are crazier than Murphy’s thief.

We see the joke coming a mile away, and once it comes, there are no more to top it. Alpaugh’s two-act then becomes laboriously weighted down with filler material (Larry Kelley’s shrink threatens to become the main character), tastelessness (Klair Bybee’s Father Bob screams out, “I’m not a rapist! I’m a Jesuit!”) and pure bunk (police cars surround the house, but the police take 10 minutes to announce themselves).

Well done farce is like a smooth double-play: if the second baseman’s toe didn’t quite touch the bag, we didn’t notice for all the coordination going on. The play’s obligatory swinging doors scene, for instance, has one error after another. It makes one wonder if director Dom Salinaro was keeping an eye on his players, who are uniformly one-dimensional, and can’t pace a scene so they’re a step--at least--ahead of us.

At 10900 Burbank Blvd., North Hollywood, Fridays and Saturdays, 8 p.m., Sundays, 5 p.m., indefinitely. Tickets: $12; (818) 769-PLAY.

‘Dick of Death’ Writer-director Michael Aquilante’s dreadful play on murderous corporate types, “Dick of Death,” is, according to the program at Theatre/Theater, “inspired by William Shakespeare’s ‘King Richard III.’ ” If only it were.

Instead, it seems to be inspired by “Miami Vice” outtakes, if they were filmed in a dingy garage. Jon Laskin’s Dick, through his real estate “syndication,” wants to take over the world. Rather than treat Dick as an obvious nut case--we’re not in a theatrical horror fantasy land like Ionesco’s--everyone acts as if Dick just might do it.

If this were film, you’d need big tracking shots, a seductive score, wild action and sexy stars in order to make us swallow it. On stage, you need language and some stark characters. The language is a hash of ersatz poetic prose; Eileen T’Kaye, in three roles, is the only actor, in a cast that tends toward soap opera histrionics, with the right idea of playing things absurdly over the top. Deadliest of all is Steven Kerry’s tinny live score--the best argument yet for theaters banning one-man synthesizer bands until they learn how to play in support of the actors.

At 1713 N. Cahuenga Blvd., Saturdays and Sundays, 8 p.m., through Dec. 17. Tickets: $10; (213) 962-9992 , (213) 856-4359 or (213) 871-0210.