STAGE REVIEWS : Dual ‘Lower Depths’ from Homeless Writers, Actors’ Gang

“Summer is a fine time for imagining death,” muses Natasha in Maxim Gorky’s “The Lower Depths.” This is as good an explanation as any for why we’re getting not one, but two simultaneous productions of Gorky’s sprawling four-act drama, circa 1900, about the Russian down and out. Both stagings have their roots downtown, but they couldn’t be emerging from more socially or artistically different groups.

Despite the differences, both “Lower Depths” have moments of such indelible impact that making a visit to each is as interesting a theatrical trip as there is in town.

At Stages’ outdoor space in Hollywood, director Michael McGee’s cast includes several homeless people. It has been developed through Skid Row workshops with the help of the Homeless Writers Coalition (HWC) and Pipeline. The veins of experience and authenticity run rich here.

At Al’s Bar in deep downtown, the Actors’ Gang, led by director Ned Bellamy, is coming from a different experience. After being lambasted by the New York critics for “Carnage” at the Public Theatre, and after coming up short with its disappointing “The Big Show,” the Gang clearly had something to prove.

Like an athlete coming back from injuries to make a statement, it has returned with an unforgettable “Lower Depths” that is itself a declaration on the meaning of performance. (The Gang has also greatly added to its ranks with several new faces.) There isn’t a finer group of actors in L.A.

Bellamy’s show goes for the jugular, more so than in any previous Gang production. McGee’s ensemble explores the ghosts and dreams of society’s forgotten ones. And Gorky’s text allows for both approaches (each uses Alexander Bakshy’s lucid translation).

The Gang may, in fact, go for the jugular too much in the third act, when emotions spill over into murder. It’s a small price to pay, though, for a group performance centered on feelings, especially since every other artistic choice is absolutely on the mark.

Setting, for example. Rather than keep the play in 1900 Russia, or Americanize it, Bellamy and company have merely moved it to Russia 1990. It’s still an American view of Russia, with a unique American energy, but everything from the garb to Luka the pilgrim’s suggestion to go north to Siberia, young man (John Bracci), is rooted in a truly desperate contemporary Russian landscape.

It’s a simple, superb idea, almost entirely conveyed through the actors on a black box setting of nothing more than a few boxes, sheets and plentiful bottles of vodka. It extends to the naturalistic performance style, a far cry from the Gang’s usual declarative attack. With a few smudges around the eyes, Sicily Rossomando’s sickly Anna, in a heart-rending performance, looks like death itself.

McGee’s choices aren’t always so well thought out. The program doesn’t specify the setting, but Bakshy’s text is preserved. So if we’re in Russia, it isn’t clear why Joel Parker soulfully sings about life on Skid Row, “smokin’ cocaine.” While Beau Billingslea’s Luka is full of mythic overtones muted by inner flaws, he also recalls Uncle Remus, making his Siberian travel suggestions sound a bit silly. The uncredited costumes and Francis Wells’ and Lionel (Stoney) Stoneham’s set are straight Skid Row--so why not set the action there?

Another difficulty is the inclusion at the start of revolutionist speechifying from Gorky’s very Marxist “The Mother.” The signal is that we’ll be seeing a Marxian “Depths,” and the use of Stages’ building as the landlord’s feudal lair beautifully emphasizes this.

But this Luka isn’t treated sardonically, as at Al’s Bar, where Bracci suggests that Luka may even be mad, and Lee Arenberg’s cynical Satin reviews the old pilgrim’s notions with acid-tongued wit. Luka is against revolution, but the HWC production exalts him, and Hugh Dane’s powerful Satin is in awe of him. The politics at Stages haven’t been fixed yet.

The performances, though, especially by the men, have been soundly fixed, and stand up well in comparison with the Gang. David Kristin (HWC) plays a more veteran, hardened Actor than Jeff Foster (the Gang), who pushes things to the limit, as with an excruciatingly held pause when the Actor tries to recall some verse. The Gang’s Pat Rowe and HWC’s Beatty are both central energy sources as Peppel.

The women at Al’s Bar, however, really show up their counterparts in Hollywood. As the rejected Nastya, HWC’s Michelle Jarrett is all attitude, while the Gang’s Shannon Holt sprays the stage with booze and a deeply felt venom. HWC’s Edris Cooper is a conniving Vassilissa, but the Gang’s Claire Wren is a monstrous terror. Gorky used lots of exclamation points, and the Gang leaves them all in.

The HWC people, though, accent the less tangible sense of surviving and, perhaps, thriving. The other theme here is art emerging from extremity and exorcisms, making this production close kin to August Wilson’s theater. With each of these “Lower Depths,” it’s a case of rising above.

The Actors’ Gang production is at 305 S. Hewitt St., on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, 8 p.m., until July 3. $8; (213) 478-7978.

The Homeless Writers Coalition production is at 1540 N. McCadden Place on Saturdays and Sundays,7 p.m., until July 8. $15; (818) 501-3993 or (818) 956-2263. All proceeds go the HWC.