Allan Miller’s ‘The Fox’: Elegant but a Bit Overwrought

Three’s more than company in Allan Miller’s “The Fox.” The pristine adaptation of D. H. Lawrence’s novella is given an elegantly crafted staging at the Skylight, even if the menage a trois does get a bit overwrought at times.

A lesbian couple have skipped out on society’s tsk-tsking by high-tailing it to a run-down farm in the English boondocks, circa 1918. When a perky young soldier with a penchant for shooting things shows up, he intrudes upon their idyll with ultimately disastrous results.

Pat Destro’s Jill serves tea and does needlepoint, while Anamyn Turowski’s Nellie tends toward men’s work clothes and outdoor chores. The actresses have a convincing rapport with each other, although Turowski’s performance is a bit flat. Interloping Henry (Bill Brochtrup) puts the moves first on Jill, then more intently on Nellie, although what he’s really got the hots for is probably the deed to the property.

All this plays out credibly in Act I, but director Dave Higgins’ paints it too purple in Act II. There’s enough sexual heat in the situation (although not between Brochtrup and the actresses) without Higgins having to spell it out by, say, having horny Henry swivel his groin at Nellie.

The script’s only liability is its implication that lesbianism is relatively elective, and therefore easily abandoned once a marauding male is on the scene. Higgins does nothing to mitigate this message, but nor does he especially fortify it.

Scott Storey’s Victorian set perfectly evokes the cozy farmhouse living room, complemented by Ray Thompson’s exquisitely dim and dappled lighting.

“The Fox,” Skylight Theatre, 1816 1/2 N. Vermont Ave., Hollywood, Fridays-Saturdays, 8 p.m.; Sundays, 7 p.m. Ends Aug . 15. $12.50. (213) 660-TKTS. Running time: 2 hours, 10 minutes.

‘A Doll House’: Color-Differentiated

Imagine Ibsen’s Nora slamming the door. OK, now imagine her doing it in color-differentiated triplicate. That’s the gimmick of director-adapter Kathryn Bikle’s plodding “A Doll House: Reconstructed” at the Basement Theatre.

The problem with this intellectual exercise is that Ibsen’s trenchant drama gets muddied for the sake of a gratuitous multicultural wash that reveals no insights that aren’t apparent in standard stagings. Add a clunky translation, some equally rudimentary acting and a text that’s 45 minutes too long and Nora isn’t the only one with grounds for a hasty retreat.

Page Phillips and Richard de Faut are the lackluster Anglo Victorian Nora and Torvald; Patricia Marina and Hugo Daniel are the modern Latino version and Sha’Ron McKee and Mark Gates are the 1990s African-American incarnation. The sundry Noras and Torvalds take turns as the other characters in the play when they’re not in the leads. None of these actors are up to the chief roles’ demands, although McKee and Gates do occasionally hit the right note.

“A Doll House: Reconstructed,” Basement Theatre, 464 E. Walnut, Pasadena, Fridays-Saturdays, 8 p.m.; Sunday, 2 p.m. (Aug . 15 only). Ends Aug . 28. $12. (818) 683-1651. Running time: 3 hours, 15 minutes.

‘Walk’ Crippled by Bad Writing, Staging

Peter Wren’s quasi-Saroyanesque comedy “Walk of Fame Cafe,” about a bunch of losers and others who traipse in and out of a dingy Hollywood chow dive, is pretentious, self-congratulatory filler peppered with a few zingy one-liners. Director John Terlesky’s Tamarind staging is only workmanlike, but at least it’s got a couple of strong performances.

A broke cafe owner, his boozing cook, a wanna-be novelist, a preening soap actor and the lesbian owner of a travel agency and her two female workers all frequent a place where tacked-up glossies pass for decor. Everybody has problems, but there’s not an original plot line in the house.

The strings that connect these prosaic dots are two homeless savants. Kirsten Getchell’s Jenny, the former MIT math whiz reduced by mental problems to life on the streets, is the most compelling persona onstage. But Wren has unfortunately allowed himself to play a gratingly idealized Vietnam vet. And even if you can stomach Wren’s vet--not to mention the wimpy writer whining about how women get fat and ugly once you marry them--the only saving graces are Getchell’s astute acting and Kathryn Zimmer’s sharp turn as the wise-cracking travel agency owner.

Both Jenny and the vet get themselves cleaned-up in the end and nearly all the others hook up with True Love. So little of this is tongue-in-cheek, though, that it will make you gag more quickly than a double chili cheese at a Hollywood hash counter. Hold the schmaltz.

“Walk of Fame Cafe,” Tamarind Theatre, 5919 Franklin Ave., Hollywood, Mondays-Wednesdays, 8 p.m. Ends Aug . 18. $15. (213) 466-1767. Running time: 2 hours, 20 minutes.

‘Lotto: Experience’ a String of Cliches

The title of “Lotto: Experience the Dream” tells you all you need to know about Cliff Roquemore’s pedestrian family-wins-fortune comedy at the Ebony Showcase. But it doesn’t warn you about the string of cliches that are sent tumbling out of the mouths of the poor actors in this production.

A resoundingly virtuous working-class couple (Donovan Womack, Darline Harris) with several near-grown kids and an annoying Aunt Mildred (Aloma Wright) are struggling to get by. Youngest son Spike (Dwayne Barnes) is a rap-head; elder son Junebug (Adam Jackson) is a ne’er-do-well and daughter Nett (Gloria Lynne Harris) has just brought home--gasp!--a white boyfriend. (“Friendship has no color,” she says.)

The family wins a $10-million lottery and trouble comes: “Money sure does change people, doesn’t it?” queries boyfriend Seth (John L. Bennett). Fortunately, Mother knows best. “Ever since we won the Lotto, this family hasn’t been the same,” she notes, just after coming up with a scheme to save the day.

Despite the slushy text, Womack, Barnes, Harris, Wright, Jackson and Jeris Lee Poindexter as the loafer Lester turn in credible work.

“Lotto: Experience the Dream,” Ebony Showcase Theatre, 4720 W. Washington, L.A., Thursdays-Saturdays, 8 p.m., Sundays, 3 & 7 p.m. Ends Sept . 5. $17.50-$19.50. (213) 936-1107. Running time: 2 hours, 30 minutes.

A Banal Grab-Bag of Poetry and Prose

Words Across Cultures’ first full production, “Crossroads,” at the Fountainhead, isn’t really theater. It’s a misguided and mostly wretched grab-bag evening of staged poetry and prose, with production values roughly equivalent to those of a junior college class recital.

The evening begins with Pedro Pietre’s banal “Suicide Note From a Cockroach in a Low Income Housing Project.” As with Chinua Achebe’s “Girls at War,” which follows, the narrative is chopped up and passed out, choreo-poem style, to a multiethnic chorus that appears to include a hefty contingent of amateurs.

Luis Valdez’s “Los Vendidos,” a didactic acto with a familiar message about stereotypes, is the only piece of actual theater on the bill, and it’s also the only bearable moment in the show. Still, even this work looks good chiefly by virtue of contrast with everything else.

“Crossroads,” Fountainhead Theatre, 1110 N. Hudson, Hollywood, Sundays-Tuesdays, 7:30 p.m. Ends Aug . 24. $10. (213) 243-8180. Running time: 2 hours, 5 minutes.