Two Dunn One-Acts Up Front With Inner Lives

Most playwrights like to keep that most precious of narrative devices--a character’s back story--in the wings. For his one-act pair, “The Sterile Shadow” and “Coyote Summer,” at Theatre/Theater in Hollywood, writer/director Harry Dunn brings his back stories out on stage.

“Shadow” is much cruder in this regard than “Coyote,” as it shows us a young man named Bobby (Tanner Parsons) talking to an offstage shrink about his identity crisis. It’s imprisoning dramatically, since the piece can’t be anything more than Bobby revealing a past dominated by a now-dead older brother and deep confusion over women. This is only as theatrical as the actor doing the monologue, and Parsons lends Bobby a quiet desperation that never once indulges in emotional excess.

Some may carp that “Coyote’s” depiction of two female strangers meeting in a campground--unkempt, earthy Margie (Melissa Berger) and delicate, prissy Rydell (Denise Cochran)--is more of the same schematic and formulaic stuff that passes for comedy these days.

But they would be missing the wonderful intangibles here: how Margie projects her disgust for her own jilting boyfriend onto Rydell’s (Christopher Turman, who lacks a dominating edge) or how Rydell swings back and forth between her need for male security and Margie’s call for independence. Their back stories may be front and center, but Berger and Cochran uncover some sad and touching mysteries.

“The Sterile Shadow” and “Coyote Summer,” Theatre/Theater, 1713 N. Cahuenga Blvd., Hollywood, Fridays-Saturdays, 8 p.m. Ends Jan 5. $10; (213) 871-6985. Running time: 2 hours.

‘Masked Angel’ Declines at Cast

Bruce Dale’s “Masked Angel,” at the Cast Theatre in Hollywood, is a fable that seems lost in continental drift. It depicts the effect a young Danish Adonis-type who’s new to the States (Alexis Arquette) has on an American gallery owner (Ian Ross) with a bloated ego and a taste for sadomasochism. Ross’ cynical assistant (Peter Gregorycq) shares his boss’ corruption but not his girlfriend’s (Shandra Beri) careerism. Meanwhile, Ross’ key American patron (Marianne Bergonzi) acts like an aesthetic Mafioso and Ross’ favorite artist--a Russian (Alexa Hunter)--feels used.

It’s the sick, fetid Americans against the idealist Europeans, which is an odd spin on history. This isn’t as bothersome as how Dale’s play starts out with a complex rhythm and wit and gradually declines into obvious metaphors swirling around the warping of love into pain and the betrayal of beauty. Similarly, director Paul Warner’s initially stark imagery gives way to posings and a mannered Pieta tableau at the end.

“Masked Angel,” Cast Theatre, 804 N. El Centro, Hollywood, Wednedays-Thursday, 8 p.m. Ends Jan. 15. $10; (213) 462-0265. Running time: 1 hour, 15 minutes.

Sexual Confusion in ‘High Strung Quartet’

You feel underdressed sitting down to Leslie Irons’ production of Evan Bridenstien’s “High Strung Quartet (for Unstrung Voices)” at West Coast Ensemble in Hollywood. There’s John Ballowe’s glistening drawing room set, and then Irons’ handsome quartet of actors elegantly sit down in their best black evening wear.

But, like “Tamara,” things soon get messy between the characters, all nicknamed by David (Stefan Kalinka), who calls himself “Spoon”: “Lash” (Chuck Marra), Spoon’s roomie who swears too much that he’s not gay and likes “Sheets” (Yvette Heyden), who dislikes Lash but has her eye on “Brush” (Ron Houck), who has his eye on Spoon.

Sounds confusing, but unlike “Tamara,” “Quartet” isn’t messy enough. Lash’s and Brush’s confusion over their sexual identities triggers the four-way roundelay with the straight Sheets and gay Spoon as poles, but Irons fails in his deliberately static staging to make the confusion truly giddy and dizzying. While Houck nicely suggests a fine chap who can’t make up his mind and Kalinka infuses warmth into a hopelessly goody-good caricature, Heyden isn’t bitchy enough and Marra is hardly the effeminate-looking guy we’re told about in the text.

“High Strung Quartet (with Unstrung Voices),” West Coast Ensemble, 6240 Hollywood Blvd., Hollywood, Thursdays-Saturdays, 8 p.m.; Sundays, 7 p.m. Ends Feb. 2. $12; (213) 871-1052. Running time: 1 hour, 50 minutes.

Hunger After One-Acts at West Hollywood

Three courses of one-acts--or “Trois Entrees,” as it’s pretentiously called at the West Hollywood Playhouse--do not always make a meal.

Jeffrey Hatcher’s “Downtown,” for instance, concludes with a gimmick that undercuts what had been a slightly biting, cagey depiction of three young writers (Alexander Apple, Ray Ivey and Justine Madero) trying to out-do the Bret Easton Ellis/Jay McInerney crowd. The cast relishes tossing out Hatcher’s mean zingers; now, they should ask for a rewrite.

Lori Goodman has neither a gimmick nor an ending for her “Reservations for Two,” about a calm guy (Cooper Layne) trying to dine with his frazzled date (Veronica Blak). Blak loses control over her woman losing control, and all Layne can do is leave.

At least there’s a little more going on in Bob Krakower’s “4 AM (Open All Night),” such as whether Riley Wood’s married man will quit moaning to the diner owner (Richard Fast) and hit up on Molly Lorenz’ clearly single woman. There’s a potential sexual tension that completely escapes the cast and renders the scene vaporous.

Deborra-Lee Furness directed.

“Trois Entrees,” West Hollywood Playhouse, 666 N. Robertson Blvd., today, 8 and 10 p.m.; Saturday 8 p.m. Ends Saturday. $8; (213) 962-7056. Running time: 55 minutes.

‘Wide Torsos’ Leaves a Gap at igLoo

Any show that promises music by Yello, Mantovani, Throbbing Gristle, J. S. Bach, Jon Hassell and Brian Eno and a title like “Of All the Wide Torsos in All the Wild Glen” already sounds interesting.

But what our ears get with Paul Peditto’s play at igLoo in Hollywood is a meaningless assault, like a rattling heater blowing too much hot air. Peditto intends to give grotesquely comic heft to the American obsession with fame and physical make-over: Thus, his obese famous playwright Maxwell (David Robinson, in a numbingly nattering performance) is in a plastic surgeon’s waiting room before he goes under the knife. For no particular reason the doctor’s assistant (Maria Tirabassi) takes an interest in the plump scribe.

The rest is a tiresome duet, filled with musings about Esquire magazine’s values and the parallels between eating and sexual disorders. Chris Peditto didn’t so much direct as steer traffic, which really becomes a nonsensical jam when a delivery man from a hamburger joint brings in a pizza. Let’s add theater disorders to the list.

“Of All the Wide Torsos in All the Wild Glen,” igLoo, 6543 Santa Monica Blvd., Hollywood, Fridays-Saturdays, 8 p.m. Ends Feb. 4. $7; (213) 962-3771. Running time: 1 hour, 5 minutes.