Fantasy, Nightmare Mix in ‘Riffs & Credos’

J.M. Barrie called death “an awfully big adventure.” In “Riffs & Credos” at Playwrights’ Arena, Gene, a Catholic priest dying of AIDS, is embarked on the ultimate Outward Bound trip. Deep in a coma, he drifts in a hallucinatory dream.

Gene doesn’t question the concept of a hereafter. It’s just that he hasn’t quite figured out whether he’s climbing Jacob’s ladder or descending Joseph’s well. Despite all his agonized prayers and musings, he’s lost due North.

Nick Salamone’s “Riffs & Credos” is the stuff of fantasy and nightmare. A sequel to his earlier work, “All Soul’s Day,” the play is a vividly dramatic re-creation of one man’s final moments.

The priest, Gene (Steve Tschudy), a practicing homosexual until the time of his ordination, has stringently kept his priestly vow of celibacy, but the cost to his psyche--not to mention his friends--has been dear.

Gene’s former lover Sunny (Salamone), himself an AIDS sufferer, is a tenacious disbeliever who remains defiantly carnal as he faces his own end. Val (Jon Powell), Gene’s sometime lover turned platonic companion, is as repressed as he is cerebral. Jan (Elizabeth O’Connell), Gene’s longtime gal pal, nurses a subterranean passion for the priest.

The ensemble brings a sense of urgency and mission to the play, which is sensitively directed by Jessica Kubzansky. In Jim Byrkit’s scenic design, the white-swathed stage becomes the penumbra of light into which Gene will shortly journey.

Itself a big adventure, “Riffs & Credos” is an authoritative glimpse of the unknowable.

* “Riffs & Credos,” Playwrights’ Arena, 5262 Pico Blvd., Los Angeles. Thursdays-Saturdays, 8 p.m. Ends June 11. $12. (213) 466-1767. Running time: 1 hour, 25 minutes.

‘Life After Birth?’ Is Long on Laughs

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Walter feels displaced, insecure. Perhaps it was all those years of being called “butt-head” by his bratty brother. Or maybe he shouldn’t have adopted the Cleaver family as role models.

Kathleen feels ugly, unlovable. Raised in the shadow of her sexpot sister, she still imagines herself the archetypal dweeb, complete with braces, glasses and dowdy band uniform.

Naturally, these two were made for each other.

“Is There Life After Birth?,” now at the Tamarind, is a wacky boy-meets-girl comedy that is long on laughs, though sometimes short on substance.

Playwright Jeffrey Alan Arbaugh, who also plays Walter, borrows a bit from Woody Allen, a bit more from Robin Williams, throws in a selection of vintage television snippets, then melds all into his own distinctively manic style.

Director Don Most’s sure sense of comic timing complements Arbaugh’s humor throughout, as does Ken Radcliffe’s witty sound design. Cathy McAuley is delightful as the pretty but gawky Kathleen, the neurotic of Walter’s dreams.

The play soars, despite some turbulence in the second act, in which Kathleen turns unmotivatedly capricious. Also, there’s a corny “last leaf” metaphor that was shopworn when O. Henry used it.

For the most part, however, Arbaugh is a witty chronicler of life in the down-and-dirty singles marshlands. Kathleen and Walter’s ungainly mating dance makes a couple of amorous whooping cranes look like Astaire and Rogers.

* “Is There Life After Birth?” Tamarind Theatre, 5919 Franklin Ave., Hollywood. Thursdays-Saturdays, 8 p.m.; Sundays, 7 p.m. Ends May 29. $15. (213) 466-1767. Running time: 1 hour, 50 minutes.

‘Into the Woods’ a Pleasant Surprise

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Like the classic fairy tales upon which it is based, “Into the Woods,” currently at Actors Co-op, bears frequent repeating.

For those already familiar with the show, this version will be a pleasant surprise, at least in most particulars. In the intimacy of this small theater, not a single word of Stephen Sondheim’s wonderful lyrics or James Lapine’s book are lost. This production is not a big-budget extravaganza, but rather a comfortable bedtime story.

The show’s designers have worked ingeniously to scale. The sets, costumes and lighting are handsome and versatile. Teresa Klorer’s miniaturist choreography nicely fills the postage-stamp space. Robin Strand’s direction is nimble, never claustrophobic.

Unfortunately, some of the performers are vocally strained by Sondheim’s virtuosic score, but even if a few voices are not Broadway caliber, the show stands up to the occasional clinker.

Sondheim’s “giants in the sky” may have been cut down to size, but they still loom tall in this production, which has been reduced but not diminished.

* “Into the Woods,” Actors Co-op at the Crossley Theatre, 1760 N. Gower, Hollywood. Thursdays-Saturdays, 8 p.m.; Sundays, 2:30 p.m. Ends June 19. $15. (213) 964-3586. Running time: 2 hours, 50 minutes.

Fine Rendition of a Dated ‘Working’

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What a difference a decade makes--particularly when the decade in question ends with one of the most ravaging recessions in post-Depression history.

A musical based on Studs Terkel’s book “Working,” at the Colony’s Studio Theatre Playhouse, first opened in the late ‘70s. A little more than 15 years later, it seems surprisingly anachronistic.

Proud goldbrickers, the play’s secretary and editor probably would not survive long in today’s drastically downsized corporation. The glamorous hooker doesn’t even mention AIDS. Many modern-day educators would likely be happy to change places with the schoolteacher, who frets that she can’t find time to teach spelling “between weaving and clay.”

Even paperboys have gone the way of the Pony Express rider, replaced largely by an adult work force.

Fortunately, the voices are good and the performances heartfelt. Director-choreographer Todd Nielsen has a solid grasp on composition and pacing. Richard D. Bluhm’s utilitarian scenic design is user-friendly.

“Working” may not yet be a candidate for the time capsule, but it has mellowed into a nostalgic period piece, a barometer of just how quickly society can change--not always for the better.

* “Working,” the Colony at the Studio Theatre Playhouse, 1944 Riverside Drive, Los Angeles. Wednesdays-Saturdays, 8 p.m.; Sundays, 2 p.m. Ends July 10. $20-$24. (213) 665-3011. Running time: 2 hours, 15 minutes.

‘Down the Hill’ a Histrionic Wallow

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Playwright John Ford Noonan and director Dorothy Lyman have worked together before. Lyman directed the original Off-Broadway production of Noonan’s “A Coupla White Chicks Sitting Around Talking.”

Call this, their latest collaboration, “A Coupla White Chicks Sitting Around Twitching.”

“Music From Down the Hill” at the Odyssey deals with two roommates-patients at a private mental facility. These “chicks” clash, bond, slash and despond in a shallow wallow of histrionic pain.

Lisa Picotte and Lee Garlington are accomplished actresses who tackle their roles as the mentally disturbed roomies with all the conviction of their craft. However, the fact that they must slash themselves at predictable junctures and persistently chat with a teddy bear undermines their efforts, however heroic. Lyman’s journeywoman direction is an equally thankless task.

As for Noonan’s play, the plot is too neat, the sentiment too easy, the metaphor too forced and the characters too picturesquely insane to be credible. If only the mentally ill were this adorable--or this easily cured.

* “Music From Down the Hill,” Odyssey Theatre, 2055 S. Sepulveda Blvd., Los Angeles. Thursdays-Saturdays, 8 p.m.; Sundays, 7 p.m. Matinees May 22 and June 5, 2 p.m. $17.50-$21.50. (310) 477-2055. Running time: 2 hours, 35 minutes.