Teamwork Pays Off in ‘Grapes’

Los Angeles City College has a tradition of putting professional actors together with students, and in the past, it seemed like a charming idea. But now, with Al Rossi’s staging of Frank Galati’s adaptation of “The Grapes of Wrath,” things have gotten very serious indeed.

With the school’s Theatre Academy collaborating with its new resident professional company, the City Playhouse, a creative combustion has occurred that no one could have predicted. No more than anyone could have predicted that this L.A. premiere, painstakingly true to Galati’s original for Chicago’s Steppenwolf Theatre (which played La Jolla Playhouse in 1989), is a stunning statement in its own right. It is as clear an illumination of the wrath that nearly tore down LACC’s neighborhood as one could hope for.

John Steinbeck’s saga of the Joad family, swept away by the dust bowl into the human hells of California, is a metaphorical tale of the loss of American innocence and the harvest reaped by American violence. The unrelenting tragedy is hardened by Galati into a ruthless downward curve of familial loss: Those who saw “The Kentucky Cycle” will know the territory--the intertwining lines of blood, revenge, faith and social injustice. It’s even harder at LACC than Steppenwolf’s restaging for PBS’ “American Playhouse.”

Tony Maggio’s Tom Joad is dynamite ready to be lit, but with a quiet, intelligent core. Mark Burnham captures the loss of innocence with deep compassion as the lapsed preacher who rides along with the family, while Persephone Laird’s Ma Joad becomes the paragon of every mother desperately holding her kin together. One could go on, through a remarkably consistent cast in which pros and students blend into a seamless whole.

Rossi, with superb technical support from Robert L. Howell (set), Randall L. Edwards (lights), John Samuel Patton (costumes) and Kim Loughran’s musical direction of Michael Smith’s eerie and spunky original score, has kept to Steppenwolf specs and standards--and at the same time, has made the play an unforgettable work of this time and this place.

“The Grapes of Wrath,” Camino Theatre, Los Angeles City College, 855 N. Vermont Ave. Friday, 8 p.m.; Saturday, 2 and 8 p.m. Ends Saturday. $7; (213) 669-5528. Running time: 3 hours, 10 minutes.

A Trio of One-Acts: ‘Blood! Love! Madness!’

A non-Asian group playing high tragic and low comic (and everything-in-the-middle) Japanese characters? What will the Politically Correct culture police say about this?

Well, it’s not such a leap from the Actors’ Gang’s last production, Tim Robbins’ hard-as-nails take on Brecht’s “Good Woman of Setzuan,” to their new show, “Blood! Love! Madness!,” the opener of the Gang’s first season at 2nd Stage.

This trio of one-acts, written by early- and mid-20th-Century Japanese playwrights Kichizo Nakamura (“The Razor”), Kan Kikuchi (“The Madman on the Roof”) and Yukio Mishima (“The Damask Drum”) share a sense of fable, ethics and injustice with “Good Woman.” They also share a disciplined commitment to good theater, wherever it comes from, and the simple idea that good actors can play anybody.

Somehow, Brent Hinkley’s and Dean Robinson’s staging remains both as delicate as a tea ceremony (beautifully accented by Lori DuPeron’s dance interludes) and as raucous as a sumo match. A barber at wit’s end (a cutting James Parks) is at “The Razor’s” heart, but it doesn’t prevent some large, scrumptious comic displays by Dan Parker, Gary Kelley, Steven M. Porter and Kenny Ransom.

The balancing act between the touching and the slapstick reaches its height in “Madman,” an acerbic and sweet tale that pokes fun at Japanese conformist traditions. Porter, again, is a spiritual heir to the Keystone Kops, while Teresa Jones, as the mad boy who wants to stay on the roof, is the face of innocent intuition. Between them are amazing turns by Shannon Holt as a phony shaman and Don Luce and Kate Mulligan as the flummoxed parents.

The balancing continues in “Drum,” about a janitor’s (a gentle Richard Schiff) unrequited love for a rich lady (Lauren Lane), and the cruel tricks foisted on him by jealous snobs (all under Xander Berkeley’s Grimm-like masks). Mishima’s story suffers from too many contortions, but the class divisions come through dramatically, thanks to Richard Hoover’s fine, malleable set, Alix Hester’s observant costumes and Kevin Adams’ precise lights.

“Blood! Love! Madness!,” 2nd Stage, 6500 Santa Monica Blvd., Hollywood . Thursdays-Sundays, 8 p.m. Ends May 31. $10; (213) 466-1767. Running time: 2 hours, 15 minutes.

Hudson Theatre Keeps ‘The Survivor’ Alive

Before it’s undone by paint-by-numbers dramaturgy, Susan Nanus’ “The Survivor,” her adaptation of Jack Eisner’s memoirs of the Warsaw ghetto, emotionally reveals a gallery of scrappy teens defending their people against the Nazis. Sasha Nanus’ Hudson Theatre staging wisely doesn’t show us the monster (we see something possibly worse--the thuggish Jewish collaborators), but it also doesn’t show us deeper conflicts in the young ghetto army.

As a result, “The Survivor” is ideal for young people unaware of this tragedy but tired stuff for those who know their history. Nanus’ play screams for a deep, inner moral crisis, since Jacek’s (Adam Philipson) tale of survival is untheatrically preordained. It’s up to the actors to keep it alive, and--led by the solid Philipson--they take on the bad guys with a confidence beyond their years.

“The Survivor,” Hudson Theatre, 6539 Santa Monica Blvd., Hollywood . Thursdays-Saturdays, 8 p.m.; Sundays, 2 and 7 p.m. Ends June 28. $17-$20; (213) 660-8857. Running time: 2 hours, 20 minutes.

EZTV’s ‘Hot Heart’: An Updated ‘Antigone’

For his not-quite-comedy-not-quite-tragedy “A Hot Heart for Chilling Deeds,” at EZTV, writer-director Kevin Carr has rampaged through Sophocles’ “Antigone,” pillaging from it and just about every other source like a wigged-out post-graduate student on his last adolescent rush. He wants to turn the original upside down, so Antigone’s prim sister Ismene (Jane Porter) becomes the focus, making Sophocles’ heroine (Sharon Green) mere support. Set in a vaguely high-tech, Greco present, this Carr-ified Sophocles is more about electronic media (TV mostly) than it is about individual conscience versus the State.

This Ismene is climbing up the ladder in Creon’s media empire, and has no time for Antigone’s antics. Her video playbacks of advertising become blurred with images of the inner family revolt (the triple monitor display is the real star of this show). Just as blurred are the lines between what we think we know of the classic text and the cliches of the dysfunctional American family, with Carr’s sisters sparring with expletives.

While Porter and Green show off some real mercurial effects (Porter’s plunge into hysterics has to be seen to be believed), the real energy is up on the screen. Is this theater’s future?

“A Hot Heart for Chilling Deeds,” EZTV, 8547 Santa Monica Blvd., West Hollywood . Fridays-Saturdays, 8 p.m. Ends May 23. $12; (213) 466-1767. Running time: 2 hours, 20 minutes.

‘The Third Day’ Misses Mark on Passion

Don’t ask why author-director Thomas Wood Fenholt’s rock opera about Jesus’ resurrection, “The Third Day,” is appearing in the funky Young Moguls’ Coffeehouse long after Easter.

Heavily borrowing from everything including Handel, “Jesus Christ Superstar” and Michael Nyman, Fenholt posits his resurrection tale in a trashed-out present where Roman guards rap and disciples don baseball caps while angels twirl about in chiffon lace. Early choral displays suggest something ethereally effective, but nothing can rise above a deadening, cloddish pacing made worse by a cast having to act with mikes in hand and an uncooperative playback system. Amid it all, Steve Sharkey’s Thomas shows the limber range of a Phil Ochs and Michael Keuther’s Peter sings with what this story is meant to be about--passion.

“The Third Day,” Young Moguls Coffeehouse, 1670 N. Hudson St., Hollywood . Sundays, 4 p.m. Ends May 31. $12; (213) 480-3232, (714) 740-2000, (310) 423-4626, (213) 461-1833. Running time: 2 hours.