The Dish About Jean-Claude van Itallie

A lion of avant-garde theater in the 1960s, playwright Jean-Claude van Itallie has been a practicing Tibetan Buddhist for more than 30 years. He begins his one-man play, “War, Sex and Dreams,” at Highways, by blessing the space, chanting melodically. We are lulled, prepared for a calming meditation on life and art. Then, Van Itallie’s chant slides into a belted rendition of “Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin’.”

Call it a mission statement for this freewheeling hodgepodge of reminiscences. Van Itallie may be a spiritual man, but he’s also a savvy storyteller who has accumulated a wealth of anecdotes in his eventful life and career, from his childhood flight from the Nazis in his native Belgium to his watershed ‘60s plays “America Hurrah” and “The Serpent.” In short, his solo show is equally informed by spirituality--and sheer dishiness.

For the most part, it’s a delightful combination. Van Itallie’s gripping early memories of war-torn Europe, his adolescent realization of his homosexuality and his poignant account of a college friend who succumbs to drugs and madness are all delivered with pungent and writerly detail. However, Van Itallie’s candid but insignificant final monologue about escapades with “sex buddies,” past and present, seems misplaced, an inadequate summing up of a fascinating evening.

Although Van Itallie is not constitutionally a performer--or a singer, despite the boatload of tunes he warbles during the evening--he is a charming raconteur whose every movement has been purposefully plotted by director Joel Gluck. As for the singing, Van Itallie’s karaoke hubris, fueled by the splendid accompaniment of pianist Steve Sweeting, proves thoroughly gutsy and engaging.

BE THERE

“War, Sex and Dreams,” Highways, 1651 18th St., Santa Monica. Tonight through Saturday, 8:30 p.m. $15. (310) 315-1459. Running time: 1 hour, 30 minutes.