‘Asylum’s’ Crazed Comedy Hits Close to Home

Brett Rickaby’s “Asylum” at the Court Theatre is a savage examination of family dysfunction so hilariously dead-on it makes you squirm. In one of the most crackling first acts in memory, Rickaby uses the setting of a modern-day insane asylum as the backdrop for his surreal “psycomedy,” which concerns the interactions of a horrible but terrifyingly typical family. The mom is the cheery Nurse (Diana Kay Cameron), the dad the sadistic Guard (Don Mandigo), the various siblings inmates, past and present.

Golden Boy (Gary Dean Ruebsamen), who has escaped the insanity and succeeded “outside,” returns for a visit, trailing the scent of freedom behind him. But hope sadly disrupts this closed family system. Screaming scenes ensue, accusations are leveled, and pressure tactics predominate as this wildly over-the-top but oh-so-believable clan falls back into its familiar pathologies.

Intermission finds you aquiver with hope and expectation, praying that the second act maintains the propulsive comic momentum of the first.

It doesn’t. Rickaby’s scathing allegory sputters into predictability and excess, complete with painful revelations about childhood sexual traumas and a self-consciously arty ending. For much of the time, however, “Asylum” is an E-ticket tour of Bedlam, led by director Harvey T. Jordan and his uniformly exceptional cast, which includes Jamie Denton, Brian McDonald, Erin J. O’Brien and Eric Lange. George Moes’ costumes and set, Genny Wynn’s lighting and Mark Farmer’s sound are essential to the atmosphere of glaring, echoing sterility.

The second play for Rickaby, an actor turned playwright, “Asylum” needs more analysis and therapy before it is released beyond its present confines. Still, it is an estimable effort, a fractured fairy tale reminding us that, when a troubled family turns in upon itself, the monsters under the bed are real, and the barbarians at the gate may be liberators.

* “Asylum,” Court Theatre, 722 N. La Cienega Blvd., Los Angeles. Thursdays-Saturdays, 8 p.m.; Sundays, 7 p.m. Ends July 30. $16 to $18. (310) 289-2999. Running time: 2 hours.

Sophocles’ Tragedy as Trailer Park Drama

Nancy Lantis’ hourlong comedy “Electra . . . I Hate My Momma & Stepdaddy!,” presented by the Eclipse Theatre at the Sierra Stage, superimposes a “Jerry Springer”-like television show on Sophocles’ timeless tale of murder and vengeance.

Amusing but slight, the playlet never pushes beyond the obvious parameters of its high concept.

Upon entering the theater, we assume the role of the “studio audience” at a sensationalistic, tell-all talk show, presided over by smarmy host Larry Winters (Will Collins). Today’s guests include Electra (Kirsten Roeters), a mini-skirted sexpot, and Clytemnestra (Terri Power), Electra’s mama, who has been poured into her clothing, with some left over.

Electra accuses Clytemnestra of murdering Electra’s father with the help of Clytemnestra’s lover Aegisthus (Matt Godecker), a toothpick-twirling slimeball with a Wesson Oil coif. When “mystery guest” Pylades (Paul Giovanni) appears, the stage is set for a spot of blood atonement.

Call this the Trailer Park of Atreus. Lantis, who also directs, encourages her actors to improvise, overlap their dialogue and generally wing it much of the time--an approach that works nicely, except for obvious gaps that seem suspiciously like line lapses.

The occasional self-conscious monologue further disrupts the flow of chatter, but the comically inspired Power and Godecker are double hoots as trash-talking slack-jaws from the hind end of nowhere, where marriage is a middle-school requirement, and possum is the other white meat.

* “Electra . . . I Hate My Momma & Stepdaddy!” Sierra Stage, 1444 N. Sierra Bonita, West Hollywood. Fridays and Saturdays, 8 p.m. Ends July 29. $12. (818) 247-2884. Running time: 1 hour.

As Plot Creativity in ‘Honey’ Drowns

Although director Robert Grande-Weiss keeps the action flowing in “As Bees in Honey Drown” at the Ensemble Theatre in Santa Barbara, Douglas Carter Beane’s utterly predictable comedy is the theatrical equivalent of a sand painting. Awash in camp, it leaves no trace.

Alexa (Jennifer Wydra), a flamboyant flim-flam fatale, hires fledgling novelist Evan (Michael Matthys) to write her life story. The gushiest force of nature since Old Faithful, Alexa dazzles Evan with her tales of jet-setting, bed-hopping and free-spending among society’s elite.

Even though Evan is homosexual, he falls head over heels for his dazzling new mentor.

The inevitable climax of the first act--which we’ve seen coming all the way from the Upper West Side to SoHo--leaves Evan bitter and disillusioned. As Evan sets out to scavenge the truth from Alexa’s murky past, we are subjected to a blow-by-blow etiology of Alexa’s progression from small-town waitress to big-city glam queen. Surprise! She modeled her phony persona on Sally Bowles and Holly Golightly, among other gay icons. As if we couldn’t tell.

Grande-Weiss and his eager young performers, particularly the dynamic Wydra, try their best to fill the void of Beane’s play with flashes of originality.

If Wydra can sing, she ought to hire on for the next available road company of “Cabaret.” She’d make a perfect Sally, a character far worthier of her abilities.

* “As Bees in Honey Drown,” Ensemble Theatre, 914 Santa Barbara St., Santa Barbara. Tuesdays-Saturdays, 8 p.m.; Sundays, 2 and 7 p.m. Ends July 23. $20 to $28. (805) 962-8606. Running time: 2 hours, 10 minutes.