A brainy, breathless Foreman extravaganza

“Radio Rick is on the air; Radio Richard doesn’t care.” This insidious jingle is one of countless catchphrases that delineate “Film Is Evil: Radio Is Good,” now playing at Cellwithin as part of EdgeFest 2003. The West Coast premiere of Richard Foreman’s abstract 1987 tract on communication is an arresting ergonomic display.

Avant-garde icon Foreman is among the world’s foremost purveyors of opaque shenanigans. Since 1968, his N.Y.-based Ontological-Hysteric Theatre has set tickling, impenetrable standards for passive-aggressive kinetic expression.

Like “Film Is Evil: Radio Is Good,” whose title indicates both its ideology and experimental vocabulary. Rampant verbiage and movement, multitiered amplification, a film sequence and other performance art elements intersplice across a calibrated palette, forming a surreal debate over cinema’s manipulation and radio’s stimulation.

Its referee is accountant Paul (Matthew McCray), initially spotted in mannequin mode manipulating the trademark red strings that bisect Paul Dedoes’ radio station set. As the dial-switching of co-director Al Sgro’s invaluable soundscape fades, station WSOS host Estelle (Michelle Ingkavet) informs Paul, “You’re not my Prince Charming.”

Under Sgro and co-director Edgar Landa’s knowing surveillance, this cues up a relentless metaphysical assault, bouncing Estelle off Paul and against WSOS owner Helena (Kristen Brennan), whose deadpan moxie speaks volumes.

Foreman’s work forgoes the forebrain for the medulla oblongata, and the Son of Semele Ensemble forces here radiate ontological hysteria without ego. A wry design scheme includes Jeremy Little’s dense lighting, Michele Barrett’s witty costumes and Mac Caudill’s film inset, which suggests Pasolini shooting through David Lynch’s coffee filters.

Besides McCray, Ingkavet and Brennan (all excellent), Jeremy Gabriel’s duck and snowman, Hahn Cho’s hangdog God and Landa’s celluloid Radio Rick and Richard make vivid impressions amid an ace ensemble.

Foreman’s theater-as-ordeal ethic is, as ever, an acquired taste. Attendees demanding explanations risk cranial liquefaction. Still, that “Film Is Evil” is even playing in Los Angeles bespeaks its innate chutzpah, and Foreman fans should flock.

-- David C. Nichols

“Film Is Evil: Radio Is Good,” Cellwithin, 3301 Beverly Blvd., L.A. Thursdays-Saturdays, 8 p.m.; Sundays, 7 p.m.; also Monday, Oct. 13, 8:30 p.m. Ends Nov. 9. Mature audiences. $12-$15. (323) 860-9970. Running time: 1 hour, 15 minutes.

*

Goheen’s solo outing teeters

In her solo show “Blak (Betrayal, Love and Kindness)” at the Lex, part of EdgeFest 2003, Marcella Goheen takes a traumatic incident -- the intrusion of a crack-addicted stranger into a young woman’s apartment -- and tries to broaden it into an emotionally charged drama.

That attempt, in this staging by reg e gaines, is only sporadically successful. Traumatic though it may sound, the actual plot is thin. From Goheen’s air of supercharged suspense, we assume that her female protagonist has been subjected to extraordinary trauma. However, as we later realize, the young woman merely chats with the intruder while he looks for items to steal. A remarkably accommodating robber, he even accepts her refusal to turn over a favorite ring.

Of course, even these circumstances justify raw terror, but in Goheen’s highly stylized, nonlinear treatment, the young woman’s fear strikes us as secondhand. The persistent reiteration of events may have been meant as a stylistic flourish, but within the context of this scant material, it feels more like filler.

Pacing is an ongoing problem, and Goheen’s unvaryingly ponderous line delivery doesn’t help, nor does her inability to sharply distinguish between her main characters. Although a two-time Tony nominee (“Bring in ‘Da Noise, Bring in ‘Da Funk”), gaines stumbles here, indulging his actress rather than disciplining her. Goheen is an intense, potentially authoritative actor, but in this unbalanced outing, she teeters between performance art and drama, an uncomfortable stretch that strains our attention.

-- F. Kathleen Foley

“Blak,” the Lex, 6760 Lexington Ave., Hollywood. Sunday, 7 p.m.; Monday-Wednesday, 8 p.m. Ends Oct. 15. $15. (323) 463-7310. Running time: 1 hour.

*

‘Sus’ a powerful police parable

Uncanny pertinence underwrites “Sus” in its West Coast premiere as part of EdgeFest 2003. British playwright Barrie Keeffe’s 1979 social parable about a London police interrogation on Margaret Thatcher’s election night retains ample thematic impact.

Keeffe, perhaps best known for his 1980 screenplay “The Long Good Friday,” has said, “I write plays for people who wouldn’t be seen dead in the theater.” This certainly describes “Sus,” its title being shorthand for “under suspicion.”

The term originates with England’s 1824 Vagrancy Act, since rescinded. Intended to keep post-Napoleonic War soldiers from public begging, the measure allowed for convictions based solely on the arresting officer’s testimony. By 1979, as Conservatives ousted Labor, misuse of the law had built mass resentment in London’s minority communities.

This history drives Syzygy Theatre Group’s solid production at the Hudson. The one-act trajectory follows white detectives Karn and Wilby (Russell Milton and Ryan Honey), who alternate between voting updates and their jovial probe of black Delroy (Kevin Daniels).

He, an immigrant with an ever-burgeoning family on welfare, has experienced the “sus” system so often that he assumes the unspecified charges represent the usual runaround for vagrancy. With Karn and Wilby’s calculated revelation of a brutal death that hits home, “Sus” becomes an unsubtle yet striking study of racial profiling and police malfeasance.

Keefe’s dialogue crackles, given full rein by director John Ferraro’s forces. Teo Guardino’s set, Van Ramsey’s costumes and Michael Resnick’s sound and lighting are spare but effective, focusing attention upon the ribald, rending actors. Daniels, pitched between Adrian Lester and Cuba Gooding Jr., is going places fast. He, Milton and Honey play each contradiction to the hilt.

Sometimes they play them past the hilt, resulting in tonal imbalance. Ferraro could dial things back a notch at climaxes, and a dialect coach is needed.

Still, what with the recall, Rampart, the Patriot Act and all, the relevant power of “Sus” is obvious and recommended.

-- D.C.N.

“Sus,” Hudson Guild Theatre, 6543 Santa Monica Blvd., Hollywood. Thursday-Saturday, 8 p.m.; Sunday, 7 p.m. Ends Oct. 19. Mature audiences. $15; pay what you can on Sunday. (323) 960-4429. Running time: 1 hour, 15 minutes.

*

‘Other Shore’ a barren experience

If the actor’s nightmare is to be stranded onstage without rehearsal, the audience’s nightmare is to watch actors play theater games.

Regrettably, the Sons of Beckett’s West Coast premiere of “The Other Shore,” part of EdgeFest 2003, resembles nothing so much as an experimental theater class in which very green actors rehearse/emote/create a purportedly avant-garde show. To be fair, they are following a text -- a slight, prosaic one by Nobel laureate Gao Xingjian that was never performed in his native China but has been embraced in Europe, where the author now lives. The Europeans may be flattered by imitation, since his work shows the clear influence of Western modernism, from Brecht to Peter Handke, in its bare structure, archetypal content and skepticism of socially ratified meaning.

The play is essentially a series of individuation psychodramas: The group discovers the communion of language, then turns it against one another; the group, under the sway of a demagogue, gangs up on an honest man; a young man finds himself spurned by mother, father, girl and society.

Director Jeffrey Wienckowski includes some African dance and live percussion played by ensemble member Coati Mundi (who should stick to music). Jay P. Africa’s set is lovely if sparse, and Rebecca Blount’s lighting is effective.

Of the actors, only the impassioned Brian Johnson comes off well, particularly in a wordless, well-orchestrated sequence that has him manipulating “mannequins” into a group dance. It’s the one time these players are on top of their game.

-- Rob Kendt

“The Other Shore,” presented by the Sons of Beckett Theatre Company at Theatre/Theater, 6425 Hollywood Blvd., fourth floor. Fridays-Saturdays, 8 p.m.; Sundays 2 p.m. and 7 p.m. Special EdgeFest matinees Saturdays, Oct. 11 and 18, noon. and 4 p.m. Ends Nov. 9. $15. (323) 465-3136. 1 hour, 25 minutes.