Changes wrought by fate -- and by courage

The title of Lyena Strelkoff’s “Caterpillar Soup” refers to the process that occurs in a cocoon before it delivers a butterfly. That’s an apt metaphor for this intimate solo account of an accident that Strelkoff suffered in 2002 and of its life-altering aftermath.

As Suzanne Teng’s New Age music swells, Kathi O’Donohue’s subtle lighting silhouettes a gesticulating figure in a wheelchair. The figure is Strelkoff, whose fine-boned beauty and soul-baring eyes suggest a fawn in the forest, establishing her theme alongside a stylized projected tree.

After having “the best orgasm of my life,” lifelong tree-climber and dancer Strelkoff joined boyfriend Dean, who emerges as “Caterpillar Soup’s” other heroic figure, for a hike in Malibu’s Charmlee Park. Halfway up a tree, she heard “a very loud crack.” A rotted branch and a somersaulting 25-foot drop left her instantly paralyzed from the waist down.

Throughout, “Caterpillar Soup” combines the gentle lyricism of a Ziggurat Theatre Ensemble outing (Strelkoff is a founding Ziggurat member) with harrowing clinical details, as if an origami crane were made from diary entries. Under Paul Linke’s delicate direction, Strelkoff shares her experiences and encounters over the last two years with grace, dry humor and radiant spirituality.

As a performance piece, “Caterpillar Soup” might be somewhat tighter, but that is beside the point. If such intensely personal material defies standard theatrical assessment, so too does Strelkoff’s vast emotional range, which could melt granite. In her regenerative hope and raw honesty, this wholly courageous artist is, in the truest sense, both humbling and inspiring.

-- David C. Nichols

“Caterpillar Soup,” Ruskin Group Theatre, 3000 Airport Drive, near Santa Monica Airport, Santa Monica. Reopens Jan. 8. 8 p.m. Saturdays, 2 p.m. Sundays. Ends Jan. 30. $20. (310) 397-3244. Running time: 1 hour, 45 minutes.

*

A ‘Miracle’? Well, not quite

Few American dramas carry the critic-proof sway of “The Miracle Worker.” Since its Tony-winning 1959 Broadway production starring Anne Bancroft and Patty Duke (who won Oscars for the 1962 film), William Gibson’s reworked “Playhouse 90” teleplay about teacher Annie Sullivan and her blind, deaf-mute pupil Helen Keller has become a deathless regional title.

The property’s familiarity precedes the honorably intended staging at the Long Beach Playhouse Studio Theatre. Amanda Karr’s Annie and Chloe Stager’s Helen are undeniably valiant. Karr is an innately eloquent actress, and she and the mimetically gifted Stager meet the emotional and physical demands of their roles with the same ferocious precision that sprays scrambled eggs and silverware about during the celebrated Act 1 breakfast table battle.

Indeed, by the cathartic ending, Karr and Stager almost recall 1957 television originators Teresa Wright and Patty McCormack.

Almost, for Robert Craig’s direction thwarts spontaneity and favors histrionics over naturalism, from the opening realization by Helen’s parents (Stephanie Schulz and James Rice) of their infant’s condition onward. Not everyone in the eager cast is as subtle as Dan Cole’s double-duty doctor-instructor or Michael Kieselstein’s cynical half-brother, as narrative efficiency replaces nuance.

Among the serviceable designs, Vincent Roca’s minimalist set is dominated by his moody lighting, Donna Fritsche’s lavish costumes and Ron Wyand’s saturated soundtrack.

Audible sniffles at the reviewed performance indicated that audiences will readily embrace “Miracle Worker,” although this attractive yet overwrought revival is hardworking without quite being miraculous.

-- D.C.N.

“The Miracle Worker,” Long Beach Playhouse Studio Theatre, 5021 E. Anaheim St., Long Beach. Reopens Jan. 7. 8 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays; 2 p.m. Jan. 16 only. Ends Jan. 22. $20. (562) 494-1014 or www.lbph.com. Running time: 2 hours, 10 minutes.