Capturing Gorey’s Gothic Giddiness

Edward Gorey is an acquired taste, like Charles Addams used to be, like Saul Steinberg still is. Gorey, whose drawings are probably more familiar than his writings, is sort of halfway between them, his ghoulish Edwardian tone not unlike Addams, his penchant for stressing what he doesn’t say balancing Steinberg’s knack for drawing what couldn’t possibly be there.

However, all is made giddily clear in West Coast Ensemble’s super production of Stephen Currens’ collage of Gorey’s work, “Gorey Stories,” with music by David Aldrich. The work’s clarity--and indeed its bright allegiance to Gorey’s Gothic giddiness--owes a lot to the accomplished guidance and unquenchable humor of director Tony Tanner, who staged New York productions in 1977 and 1978.

Tanner has put together an exceptional ensemble (Toni Drago, Sel Vitella, Liz Sheridan, Alden Millikan, Christina Saffran, Peter Lavin, Christy Barrett, Michael Abrams and Michael Donovan), which he joins in Act II as befuddled novelist C.F. Earbrass. Accents are impeccable, the sense of humor and joy in the ridiculous are unbridled, and the insight into Gorey detail enthralling.

In one of the show’s memorable sections, “The Curious Sofa,” Gorey describes a few days of erotic Edwardian shenanigans, with allusions that are all the more salacious--and innocent--because he never explains what is being done. The viewer must fill in the blanks.

It’s that effort that keeps Gorey intriguing and always surprising, as with the fascinating “Sinking Feeling” (whatever is that thing!), the hypnotic “Doubtful Guest,” in which Donovan shines as an odd being which “came 17 years ago/ and to this day/It has shown no intention/of going away.” Gorey can satirize as well; opera buffs will giggle at “The Blue Aspic,” which features Saffran’s jewel-like soprano.

Darren Server’s musical direction, Ramsey Avery’s sets, Jerry Abbitt’s lighting and Susan Watanabe’s costumes are as Gorey as can be.

“Gorey Stories,” West Coast Ensemble, 6240 Hollywood Blvd., Hollywood. Thursdays-Saturdays,8 p.m.; Sundays, 2 p.m. Ends March 1. $17.50; (213) 788-5900. Running time: 1 hour, 30 minutes.

A War Zone for Macho Egos in ‘Bombers’

Jon Swan’s “Bombers,” at the Burbage Theatre, is one more coming-of-age play--and the author cops out to monologues in which his characters further the plotline. Yet his handling of dialogue within scenes, excellent performances and Joe De Guglielmo’s energetic direction keep “Bombers” from looking as minor as it really is.

Bombers is a three-member gang (not the street type), dedicated to preserving its status quo and furthering bachelor macho images and the phony dreams those images bolster. Tony Callucci (Robert Kelker-Kelly), Mike Fagan (James Victor) and Davey Rubin (Brett Vadset) all but ignore the current war zones surrounding their Brooklyn habitat.

What they can’t ignore is Gina Morelli (Orly Sitowitz). In Mike’s paranoid nightmares on the eve of their wedding, Gina tortures him--and she also holds the key to their secret pasts. Breaking up the old gang is hard to do.

Bombers they’re not, as Gina loudly proclaims, but bond they do, realistically and authentically, in all performances, especially Kelker-Kelly’s abrasive, volatile Tony, and Sitowitz’s equally abrasive and ambitious Gina. This is a nicely modulated production of one of those growing-up plays it seems every playwright must write.

“Bombers,” Burbage Theatre, 2300 Sawtelle Blvd., West Los Angeles. Thursdays, 8:30 p.m.; Fridays-Saturdays, 8 p.m. Ends March 8. $15; (310) 478-0897. Running time: 1 hours, 10 minutes.

‘Reconciliation,’ U.S.-Italian Style

Set across the East River in Greenwich Village’s Little Italy, John Patrick Shanley’s coming-of-age play, “Italian-American Reconciliation,” at the Richard Basehart Playhouse, covers much the same territory, with a couple of nice twists that set it apart.

Here the old gang is intent on staying together, even if it is reforming, as Huey Bonfigliano (Mark Costello) asks his buddy Aldo (Al Septien) to plead his case to Huey’s ex-wife.

The centerpiece of this uneven play is a balcony scene, with the ex-wife Janice (Sheryl Samuels), in a baggy housecoat, listening without pity or humor as Aldo speaks his piece for Huey. It’s a lovely, poetic piece of writing, and Samuels and Septien skillfully seize the moment and make it their own. They act as though they’ve never been out of Little Italy.

Alice Jankell is also authentic as the girl Huey has been passing time with, but even under Tom Fraser’s incisive, clear direction, Costello’s Huey and Jeanie Van Dam’s Aunt May seem to be from some other part of the country. Van Dam, particularly, seems unwilling to give up her pleasant smile and personality in favor of Aunt May’s bitter sharpness and opaque wisdom.

“Italian-American Reconciliation,” Richard Basehart Playhouse, 21028-B Victory Blvd., Woodland Hills. Wednesdays-Thursdays, 8 p.m.; Sundays, 7 p.m. Indefinitely. $18; (818) 704-1845. Running time: 2 hours, 5 minutes.

Rough Edges Scalp ‘The Bald Soprano’

No director is listed for this revival of Eugene Ionesco’s “The Bald Soprano,” at Carpet Company Stage.

That’s where the problem lies; the actors did it themselves.

Although this is certainly a lucid and respectable treatment of the absurdist classic, its rough edges and self-indulgences might have been smoothed out and kept in check by a director with a sure vision.

Linda Kerns stands out in the group as Mrs. Smith, the only one with a flawless accent, the only one who lets her honesty illuminate the absurdist development of the script. The ensemble work is good, as Ionesco allows his characters to slowly sink into the verbal cacophony he saw developing in the world, but most of this cast errs in adding their own sense of absurdity to Ionesco’s, which lessens his.

“The Bald Soprano,” Carpet Company Stage, 5262 W. Pico Blvd., Los Angeles, Fridays, 8 p.m.; Saturdays, 8 & 10 p.m. Ends Feb. 23. $8; (213) 876-5713. Running time: 55 minutes.

Wollner’s ‘Kid Purple’ Needs to Grow Up

Donald Wollner’s “Kid Purple,” at Theatre of Arts, is one of those inept black comedies that should give producers and directors pause before they’re revived. Wollner’s point about people who are “different” (in this case a boxer born with a pigmentation error that leaves his head purple) is clouded by simplistic development.

The playwright is not aided by a predominantly amateur-looking cast, most noticeably Jerry Morrison, as the plum-hued lead, who sounds as if he’s stumbling through his lines for the first time.

“Kid Purple,” Theatre of Arts, 4128 Wilshire Blvd., Los Angeles, Fridays-Saturdays, 8 p.m.; Sundays, 2 and 7 p.m. Ends Feb. 23. $14.50; (800) 773-3752. Running time: 1 hour, 45 minutes.