Thoughtful Approach to ‘Memoirs of Jesus’ at Matrix

What if Christ had kept a diary? Harry Cornelius Cronin’s one-man drama “Memoirs of Jesus” at the Matrix Theatre proposes that he did exactly that. In the olive grove shortly before his arrest and crucifixion, Jesus reflects on his life, the duality of his human/divine nature and the bitter destiny he now faces. “How did I come to this place? I’m a man who likes to look at the stars.”

In Cronin’s conception, Christ is first and foremost a man, one who comes slowly to the realization of his own miraculous power and who ever after struggles to balance his ordinariness with his divinity. The strict fundamentalist will breathe fire at Cronin’s dramatic license with such scriptural matters. This Christ is in open conflict with his mother, Mary, a dogmatist who deplores her son’s association with lowly fishermen. This Christ yearns for people to pray naked, stripped of artifice and fancy trappings. This Christ cures a leper, only to later see that same man engaged in an act of unspeakable brutality.

Still, Cronin’s play is thoughtful and respectful, if not always inspired. Andrew Robinson, who plays Jesus, goes a long way toward smoothing over Cronin’s occasional missteps, such as the interruptive passage in which Mary Magdalene gives Jesus her philosophical take on worldly love. Portraying Jesus Christ ranks among the most difficult and potentially damning of acting assignments, yet under the capable direction of Angela Paton, Robinson renders a Christ at once gentle and tormented, full of passion, longing and soulfulness. Robinson’s performance, coupled with Cronin’s flashes of genuine insight, make for a worthy--and at times, divine--evening.

* “Memoirs of Jesus,” Matrix Theatre, 7657 Melrose Avenue, Los Angeles. Mondays-Tuesdays, 8 p.m. Ends Dec. 13. $12. (213) 852-1445. Running time: 1 hour, 5 minutes.

‘Tanglin Hearts’ Also Tangles Story Line

“Tanglin’ Hearts,” a country-Western musical at Theatre 40 very loosely based on Shakespeare’s “As You Like It,” has some toe-tapping numbers and a few engaging performances. However, these factors can’t compensate for the feeling of being trapped in a “Hee Haw” rerun.

Zora Margolis wrote the lyrics, Peter Spelman the music. Despite uneven voices and deadening acoustics, the show features some bona fide chart-busters that would be right at home in a Clint Black roadshow. If only the plot were as contemporary.

Folksy aphorisms result in a few genuine yocks (“If wishes was fishes, we’d have us a fry”), but the desultory book by Margolis and Charlotte Houghton is more a series of music cues than a sustained story. Jan O’Connor’s halting direction is a sorry failing in a show that cries out for briskness and glitz.

Among the cast, Gene Ross plays a monumentally dastardly villain who could give J.R. Ewing a good name. Drawling and droll Lori Thimsen makes comic hay as an over-the-hill roadhouse proprietress. Cliff Berens plays the perennial underdog with moronic panache; jaws don’t get much slacker than this.

“Tanglin’ Hearts” wouldn’t make such a bad cast album. If only there were more of a show tucked in around the music.

* “Tanglin’ Hearts,” Theatre 40, 241 Moreno Drive, Beverly Hills. Sundays-Tuesdays, 8 p.m. Ends Dec. 13. $10. (213) 466-1767. Running time: 2 hours, 25 minutes.

‘Love Talker’ Slips at Theatre 1761

Combine the mythological elements of Euripides’ “The Bacchae” with the steamy sexual allegory of Christina Rosetti’s “Goblin Market” and you’ll have some idea of what Deborah Pryor’s folk fable “The Love Talker” at Theatre 1761 is all about. Unfortunately, Pryor’s classical story structure and frequently poetical language are vitiated by her risible regionalism and her unintentionally parodic portrayal of hill folk.

The placid pastoral existence of Bun (Colleen Cochran) and her younger sister Gowdie (Ebba-Marie Gendron) is shattered when Gowdie wanders into the forbidden woods, where she falls under the sway of the goat-god (Donald Wayne Jarman) who dwells there. Gripped with lust, Gowdie persistently conjures the spirit, while the prudish Bun just as determinedly tries to cast out and destroy the seductive entity.

But as Bun later learns to her everlasting sorrow, you don’t mess with Mother Nature--or the god Pan for that matter. Gowdie’s bacchantic revels culminate in a blood sacrifice, while the spirit of the wood and his puckish bacchante (Toni Hood) look on.

It takes a great deal of sophistication to play callow characters, and this youthful cast, although sincere, is hard-pressed to mitigate the excesses of Pryor’s backwoods dialect. Instead of firmly grounding his performers in reality, heightened though it may be, director Robert Houston Broyles plays up the parody, leaving Pryor’s play stranded in the dark of the moon with no dawn in sight.

* “Love Talker,” Theatre 1761, 1761 N. Vermont Ave., Los Angeles. Tuesdays-Wednesdays, 8 p.m. Ends Dec. 21. $10. (213) 660-8587. Running time: 55 minutes.