‘Peasant’ a Scathing Political Folk Tale

Political theater can be deadly if it’s didactic or so satiric that the characters become cartoons. But “A Peasant of El Salvador,” at the Gene Dynarski Theatre, unfolds like a Central American folk tale. There’s a simplicity about the production that exposes in stark relief the shattering odyssey of a village farmer who loses his family and finally his life to oppressive U.”.-supported government forces.

The play is about campesinos, Central American culture, innocence, betrayal and rebellion. In the beginning, when we meet the beguiling entitled character (a touching, understated performance by Andres Carranza), the show’s heart is light, even entertaining, before events close 90 intermissionless minutes later with the 1980 killing of Archbishop Oscar Romero and the massacre of peasants on the cathedral steps.

Written in 1981 and originally performed by two mime actors in Vermont, the play by norte - americanos Peter Gould and Stephen Stearns has been expanded by director Del Zamora, with a cast of three men and two women performing multiple roles.

Although a wooden narrative device introduces scenes, the production is not preachy nor as unsophisticated as it appears. Brechtian devices are at work, and its cumulative horror is carefully integrated into the texture. The impact of this deceptive drama is in its quiet anger.

At 5600 Sunset Blvd., Thursdays through Saturdays, 8 p.m., Sundays, 7 p.m., through Dec. 23. $8-$10. (213) 281-8299 or 465-6500.

‘Losing’ a Mix of Good Play, Bad Production

We suspect that “Losing It In Cross Plains,” at Theatre 40, is a bad production of a good play. But some in the audience who occasionally sniggered and uncertainly applauded may argue that the show is a good production of a bad play. It’s interesting theater to fight about.

In any event, our opinion is that Janice Van Horne has written an ambitious, demanding play about a troubled family with incestuous poisons that is misdirected by Jill Andre at a noisy theatrical pitch. The director’s fetish for overlapping dialogue, which reaches its shrieking crescendo midway through the second act, is enough to drive you from your seat.

Sure, people talk over each other in real life. But it’s not wise to make that an aural motif on stage. There’s one rich performance, a ripely realized characterization by Rhonda Lord as the grasping wife of a callow brother (a tiresome figure played by James Bartz). Lord’s performance is the production’s single redeeming element.

There is also a dour little girl (Cara Conway, alternating with Danielle Price) who wordlessly mopes throughout the play and who has a knife fetish. The father and ill-tempered patriarch of this warped clan (Russel Lunday) is senile and vulgar. His daughter (Jenifer Parker) is wearisome. The old reprobate’s sister (Gloria Lord) and a sane drifter (Andre Barron) complete the homestead.

In all this bad blood, with momentary full-lipped kisses between brothers and sisters, you should still feel empathy for these forlorn people. But all you feel is a ringing in your ears.

At 241 Moreno Drive, Thursdays through Saturdays, 8 p.m., Sundays, 2 p.m. and 7 p.m., through Dec. 16. $12-$15. (213) 466-1767.

‘Party’ a Spontaneous, Cagey Brew at the Cast

Remember “Animal House”? L.A. theater has found its answer to that movie. It’s called “Party Mix.” Hey, Dude, where’s the beer?

There’s overlapping dialogue here, too, but playwright Justin Tanner stages this madhouse of a spontaneous party at the Cast Theatre with cagey craftsmanship. The seemingly endless collection of characters (thanks to multiple role-playing) appear to have materialized off a dank Hollywood street corner.

Everyone will have a favorite character, but ours is Thea Constantine’s brassy street girl, her black hair scrunched up in a garish knot like a bird’s nest. Whiney Laurel Green and screechy Shawna Casey are probably your neighbors if not your kids.

The kitchen dump of a set, with the suggestion of a cozy makeout parlor in the back, was designed by hulking Andy Daley, who also is part of the grungy ensemble (and co-wrote the now cult-status Cast hit “Zombie Attack” with Tanner).

“Party Mix” is affable in its messiness, lifelike and endearing as some dumb parties are.

At 804 N. El Centro Ave., Wednesdays through Fridays, 8 p.m., though Dec. 31. $10 ; (213) 462-0265.

Hughes’ ‘Horniness’ a Touch of Dyke Noir

Rape, lust, boiler room female cops, women who drive each other crazy. This show isn’t a mere play--as the host of this hard-boiled radio drama says on stage, “It’s the Welllllll! . . . of Horniness.”

Seen any dyke noir theater lately? The Celebration Theatre brings you Holly Hughes’ pulp rendition of sordid frightfulness, a slapstick brew which plays like a lesbian’s fantasy of “The Heidi Chronicles.” Unable to resist her lust, the lascivious, goldilocked Lacy Gardner slips under a table in a fancy public restaurant to make love to her dinner companion, her derriere bobbing in the air. Who said lesbians can’t make fun of themselves?

Playwright Hughes, of course, “the Sapphic Supervixen” as the program touts her, is one of the “NEA Four” who were rebuffed by the National Endowment for the Arts. She’s not in the show, which is too bad because, while outrageous, it could use her danger.

Directed by Claudia Lake, the production is burlesque, like a dumb, baggy pants vaudeville skit extended over two acts. No matter what your persuasion, there are riffs and whiffs of erotic images--hemlines and legs entangled up, double entendres, that sort of thing--all in the spirit of “The Welllllll! of Horniness.”

At 426 N. Hoover Ave., Fridays, Saturdays, 8 p.m. ; Sundays, 7 p.m. ; through Dec. 16. $12-$15. (213) 666-8669.

Solid Acting, Direction in IgLoo Double Bill

Karma Theatre, at a venue aptly called the IgLoo, is staging a pair of two-character one-acts, notable for solid acting and direction on a squalid set and dank stage. Budget imperatives aside, the work deserves more imaginative production values.

What redeems the evening is “Spittin’ Image,” another post-Vietnam drama from Stephen Metcalfe, author of “Strange Snow.” It features a gripping performance by Michael Newland as a boisterous but lonely truck driver visiting the younger brother of a buddy killed in the war. Newland’s pain disguised as bluster is delicately shaded by director Bruce McIntosh. The comparatively passive Shane Patrick McCullough does well in an essentially reactive role.

The second and shorter show, “Final Placement” by Ara Watson and Mary Gallagher, dramatizes a meeting between a harried social worker (Victoria Haas) and a disturbed, dim child abuser (Amy Lloyd). Director Max Mutchnick calibrates the growing tension.

At 6543 Santa Monica Blvd., Tuesdays and Thursdays, 8 p.m., indefinitely. $10 ; (213) 960-8870.

‘Sliding Dog’ a Movie Biz Joke Sans Laugh

Dennis Redfield, a charter member of the trailblazing Company Theatre of the ‘60s, would appear particularly suited to direct the bizarre comedy “Sliding Dog” by the Actors Conservatory Ensemble at the Lex. But this Hollywood industry comedy by Richard Evans would defeat any director.

The play is maddening, by turns self-conscious, arty, talky, silly, incomprehensible. It’s a maze of dead-end verbosity, non sequiturs, L.A. imagery, cars, dementia. In movie terms, it’s a fractured mixture of “Sunset Boulevard,” “Day of the Locust” and “Frankenstein.”

The actors survive. Burr DeBenning is amusingly florid and arch and Mark Haining’s scurrying, wheel chair-bound landlord is fun. John Westmoreland’s inventive set design, full of eye-popping welding effects from Evans and Robert Moore, is the star of the show.

At 6760 Lexington Ave., Fridays through Sundays, 8 p.m., through Dec. 9. $10 ; (213) 463-6244.