A Stunning Portrait of Troubled Souls

Once you get past playwright Mitch Hale’s unfortunate title, “Painted Cakes (Won’t Satisfy Hunger)” at the Skylight Theatre has some juicy surprises in store.

“Cakes” takes place during one meeting of a 12-step program for addicts, but it’s neither self-congratulatory nor proselytizing. The quartet who made it despite a raging snowstorm are raging inside themselves, and having a devil of a time even getting to Step 2.

Aaron (S. Michael Bellomo) is a Vietnam War vet who never made it back into society. His addiction to the memory of the war is greater than any of his other addictions, a point not lost on Judy (Susan Metcalf). She’s an ex-flower child who did make it back into society, but realizing she’s become what her parents were has kept the booze flowing.

Group leader Joe (Greg Hobson) never explains his problems, except that he’s addicted to anything he can get his hands on. The saddest of the group is Ray (Eddie Young), poured out of a drunken family when he was a kid, already an alcohol and heroin addict, a hustler looking for johns to support him and his addictions.

These people are volatile chemicals, ready to explode, which they do in a chain reaction that leaves the church basement setting in shambles, along with the facades. Director Steve Tietsort (who also designed the clean-cut setting and lighting) knows when to light their fuses and when to let them fizzle out in frustration and anger.

Hobson and Metcalf are slow-burning flames, balanced by a sense of control that keeps their performances honest. Bellomo gives shadings to his standard vet character that keep it from becoming a stereotype. But the performance of the evening is Young’s confused hustler, a coiled animal kept in check by an inner vision that he is something better. Every moment, every glance offers an insight into a really troubled soul.

A pat ending, with too quick a turn-around by the vet, takes the edge off a stunning portrait of people at odds with their own salvation.

“Painted Cakes,” Skylight Theatre, 1816 1/2 N. Vermont Ave., Hollywood. Fridays-Sundays, 8 p.m. Ends July 19. $10; (213) 466-1767. Running time: 2 hours.

A Fine Revival of ‘Threepenny Opera’

When Bertolt Brecht and Kurt Weill put together the score of “The Threepenny Opera” in Berlin during the ‘20s, their statement was obvious: a backhanded slap at the decadence of German society in the decade that followed World War I.

The statement is well reiterated by director Michael Nehring (in association with Marc Handler, Darcy Marta), and particularly by musical director Ross Kalling at Friends & Artists Theatre. The score and the staging retain the hard-edged jaggedness they should have, and the lyrical moments are as light as strudel. Alisa Hawkins’ choreography is vibrant and inventive in its use of Robert W. Zentis’ old brick cellar setting.

Some of the performances may be a little mild-mannered (Wil Adams’ Peachum could stand some more acid) but overall they capture the flavor of the piece. Gregory Norman Cruz’s Macheath is deliciously malevolent while Cruz retains enough sense of humor to excuse his ladies’ adoration. Vida Vierra’s lascivious Jenny, and Maureen O’Hanlon’s wispy Polly couldn’t be better and, along with Cruz, are at the center of a fine revival.

“The Threepenny Opera,” Friends & Artists Theatre, 1761 N. Vermont Ave., Hollywood. Thursdays-Saturdays, 8 p.m.; Sundays, 7 p.m. Indefinitely. $15; (213) 664-0689. Running time: 2 hours, 50 minutes.

Apartheid Metaphors in ‘Three Card Monte’

With the political situation still boiling in South Africa, Daniel Du Plantis’ “Three Card Monte and the Royal Flush,” at the Fountain Theatre, has special significance. Like Fugard, Du Plantis uses his characters as metaphors for the injustice of apartheid.

Monte is a black man who has sneaked into a Capetown theater for 13 years to watch and study the performances of Sir Clive Morley, especially his Othello. This night he sneaks into Morley’s dressing room and confronts the actor’s racial sensibilities, along with his professional worth. Monte is South Africa’s black population questioning the decadent imperialism, and making points with little effort.

Director Anna Stramese knows the game they’re playing, and wisely keeps the stakes light and entertaining. Mike Pearce’s detailed and realistic dressing room setting is a good counterpoint to the sometimes outrageous shenanigans of Howard Malpas as Sir Clive, and Timothy Douglas as Monte, both of whom forget they’re playing icons and have a ball.

Nectar Redman and Garrison Thompson are also good as members of the theater’s company and are minor metaphors for other problems in troubled South Africa.

“Three Card Monte and the Royal Flush,” Fountain Theatre, 5060 Fountain Ave., Hollywood. Thursdays-Sundays, 8 p.m. Ends Aug. 2. $15-$17.50; (213) 663-1525. Running time: 1 hour, 50 minutes.

‘Color Me Black’ Skewers Stereotypes

“Color Me Black,” Randy Saint Martin’s one-man album of African-American stereotypes at Itchey Foot Cabaret, makes its statements clearly, with heart and usually with a smile.

If two of the segments don’t quite make their point yet, the others do. “Mr. Negro,” a semi-campy sendup of a young black man trying to fit into the white mold, is too light to hit home as strongly as it should. And “Sister Magnolia” seems to be still developing. She’s a fortuneteller, done up in fluorescent colors. A young man who wants her to cast a spell to bring his wife back home finds himself raked over the coals. The piece is funny and perceptive, but still looking for the heart it should have.

Where Saint Martin hits the mark is in two of his older pieces. “Bangin’ in the Wild West” has Saint Martin as a gang member giving a press interview while awaiting execution. It’s vivid and its social comment is wrenching, as the boy’s long-gone father walks into the room.

The same subject breaks the heart in “Little Man,” but this time from the viewpoint of a small child trying to decide which one of mama’s boyfriends he wants for a new daddy.

All of the pieces are watchable, and often illuminating. Saint Martin shifts gears easily from one character to another, even into his fire and brimstone African Baptist preacher finale in James Weldon Johnson’s “The Creation,” the only piece he didn’t write.

“Color Me Black,” Itchey Foot Cabaret, 801 W. Temple. Wednesdays, 9 p.m. Ends July 22. $10; (213) 960-2096, (213) 851-1762. Running time: 1 hour, 30 minutes.