An early Sondheim effort gets a new life

One wonders where the American musical might have gone had “Saturday Night” opened in 1955. Stephen Sondheim and Julius J. Epstein’s Brooklyn valentine, abandoned after producer Lemuel Ayers’ death, is a boulevard romp distinguished by one wonderful score. This sustains Chromo- lume Theatre Company’s premiere staging at the Stella Adler Theatre.

Set in 1929, the jaunty title number presents four hormonal Flatbush Avenue bachelors (Christopher Chen, Kevin Henry, Thomas Colby and James Daly). Married Hank and Celeste (Adam LeBow and Gwen Copeland) invite bouncy Mildred (Gabriella Sacci) to be the quartet’s moviegoing date.

Wall Street runner Gene (Nathan J. Moore) aspires higher, to the Manhattan of Cole Porter’s mythos. While gate crashing, he meets fake Southern belle Helen (Jennifer Bangs). They become smitten, to some of the warmest songs in Sondheim’s canon.

Epstein’s old-school narrative ends with Gene saved from disgrace by his rallying cronies. To quote the Act 2 anthem, “It’s That Kind of a Neighborhood.” As the memorable 2002 Musical Theatre Guild concert reading demonstrated, “Saturday Night” demands enthusiasm. Director-choreographer Jon Engstrom’s guileless cast embraces the Golden Age conventions.

Moore’s puppyish appeal is evident, if unseasoned, with a born dancer’s line. Bangs’ pertness and belt-edged soprano recall the emerging Nancy Dussault. Their colleagues are endearingly eager, including Alex Back’s pseudo-Casanova, Jamie McMurray’s dulcet band singer and Alissa-Nicole Koblentz’s rich-voiced female counterpart.

True, Engstrom’s proficient execution sometimes overstocks the summer-stock shtick. The pep-squad moves flirt with self-parody; certain revisions blur the intent, notably “A Moment With You.” Music director Gary Gray’s band prevails through some clinkers. Erin Welty’s bright costumes bolster a serviceable design scheme.

Yet Sondheim’s freshman efforts remain mint-fresh. Many established troupes no doubt are gnashing their teeth for not snagging this amiable charmer.

-- David C. Nichols

“Saturday Night,” Stella Adler Theatre, 6773 Hollywood Blvd., Hollywood. Fridays, 8 p.m.; Saturdays, 2 & 8 p.m.; Sundays, 2 p.m. Ends June 19. $15-$35. (310) 315-3537. Running time: 2 hours, 15 minutes.

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Swallow this propaganda now!

In “Focus Today” at the Powerhouse, the Burglars of Hamm confirm their status as Los Angeles’ goofiest social satirists. A rough-edged but hoot-worthy spoof on motivational seminars, this original play with music is, like previous Burglar efforts, deceptively slight. Yet beneath the surface hilarity lies a savage sendup of corporate America.

The “seminar” in question here is being presented by a motivational group hired for the occasion by a beleaguered software company. We, the members of the audience, play the company’s employees, coerced into attending this “inspirational” event by the big boss.

The tone is deliberately amateurish, the acting stiff, the vocalizing of the strictly squawk-and-belt variety. As a trio of bombastic “facilitators” acts out propagandistic scenes, we detail our reactions to the for-profit sermonizing in a special workbook. (A hint: Be careful with your answers. Your future could hinge on your final score.)

As with all Burglar productions, the play has been developed by the company. Music director David O collaborated on the original music, with Matt Almos, who also appears in the cast, directing. Other facilitators are played by Albert Dayan and Carolyn Almos. (Jon Beauregard and Selina Woolery Smith are regular alternates.) Lisa D. Katz does a neat job creating lighting effects with limited facilities, and Teresa Shea contributes “specialty costumes” that are amusingly cheesy. Uncredited slides and voice-overs are part of the fun.

The chief satisfaction of the evening, however, is watching these oh-so-sincere moderators progress from manic cheerleaders to Nazi-like functionaries bent on a blood-letting.

Downsizing with a vengeance, they get outsized laughs.

-- F. Kathleen Foley

“Focus Today,” Powerhouse Theatre, 3116 2nd Street, Santa Monica. Fridays-Saturdays, 8 p.m.; Sundays, 7 p.m. Ends June 20. $15. (323) 769-6334. Running time: 1 hour, 15 minutes.

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Blitz-torn but back together again

“The scars we leave,” goes the defining statement of “Goodnight Children Everywhere” at the Chance Theatre in Anaheim Hills. In its Southern California premiere, Richard Nelson’s 1999 Olivier winner about four Blitz-torn siblings reunited is a haunting contemplation of war’s unseen legacies.

Five years have passed since the children left London in 1940. Beautiful eldest daughter Betty (Desiree Lyons) remained, becoming a nurse. Vivacious youngest sister Vi (Erika C. Miller) returned from Wales seeking an acting career. Middle child Ann (Jocelyn A. Brown) married aging doctor Mike (Richard Comeau), whose child she is carrying.

The sisters and brother-in-law await baby brother Peter (Brian C. Weed), who departed for Canada as a tyke. He returns on the threshold of manhood, at which point “Goodnight Children” becomes a disturbing examination of the psychological damage these orphans endured.

Director-set designer Oanh Nguyen helms a resourceful realization. Miller’s deft ‘40s wardrobe, Ron Wyand’s period sound bites, Darryl B. Hovis’ lighting and Dean Anderson’s original music are evocative.

The impressive cast sports excellent dialects (courtesy of Michael Buss) and layered portrayals. The kids actually seem related, and though Weed needs more colors, he and the incisive Brown create unsettling electricity. Beach Vickers’ and Sarah Moreau’s father-daughter interlopers round out a fine roster.

Their sustained intrigue is remarkable, considering that Nguyen honors Nelson’s calibrated nuances at the expense of pace. For that matter, Nelson’s representative exchanges grow implausible on reflection, some discussions at best unlikely in postwar England. Nevertheless, the effect is vivid, and recommends these battle-scarred children.

-- D.C.N.

“Goodnight Children Everywhere,” Chance Theater, 5552 E. La Palma Ave., Anaheim Hills. Fridays, 8 p.m.; Saturdays, 4 p.m.; Sundays, 2 p.m. Ends June 13. Mature audiences. $15-$17. (714) 777-3033. Running time: 2 hours, 30 minutes.

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In need of a better listen to the heart

CJ Jones’ new solo show, “What Are You ... Deaf?,” features a lot of fancy footwork by this lean, limber deaf actor as he recounts being raised by a stubborn boxer father in St. Louis.

Jones feints, he parries, he does the pugilist’s signature kicky warmup move. He even does a “deaf rap” and a lip-sync to Stevie Wonder’s “Part-Time Lover.”

But perhaps Jones’ most frenetic move is the tap dance he does around the heart of his story.

His deaf father may have been an imposing figure, but Jones’ take on his upbringing -- straddling the worlds of deaf and hearing, black and white -- is decidedly lightweight.

There is some rich, fascinating humor in these sharp contrasts.

His deaf parents, raising a gaggle of hearing children, openly rejoice when young CJ falls ill and loses his hearing. Now he can join them in their household’s hearing-free zone, “the deaf kitchen.”

And though his father pretends to speak each of his children’s names -- pronouncing them all with a hoarse, inarticulate “oh-boh” -- to CJ he counsels a wariness of hearing people that resembles reverse racism.

There’s little conflict until, late in the show, we see the father’s abusive side and witness the shattering isolation of his dotage. And there’s scant exploration of how Jones grew, either despite or due to his father’s example, into a well-adjusted if reluctant family man.

Director Stephen Rothman keeps the show skimming along confidently. Actor Paul Raci gives lively voice interpretations at ringside, and Karyl Newman’s slide projections and Michael Gilliam’slighting seamlessly aid transitions. Jones’ memoir, though, could stand less sleight of hand and more gloves-off self-examination.

-- Rob Kendt

“What Are You ... Deaf?,” Deaf West Theatre, 5112 Lankershim Blvd., North Hollywood. Thursdays-Saturdays, 8 p.m.; Saturdays, 2 p.m.; Sundays, 3 p.m. Ends June 20. $20. (818) 762-2773; (818) 508-8389 (TTY). Running time: 1 hour, 15 minutes.

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A house built by ruthless people

Some people just rub you the wrong way. Take, for instance, the characters in “A Safe Distance,” nearly all of whom are black holes of negativity, forever sniping at one another. You’d never in a million years choose to be around such jerks, yet there’s no escaping them in Apartment A’s presentation of Maurice Chauvet’s new play.

Their behavior, as you can see, is contagious, because now I sound just as nasty. So let me begin again by talking about something positive, such as ... um ... oh, I have it ... the set. Janne Larsen’s design for a home in Central California has been built almost as sturdily as the real thing, from the built-in hutch to the cozy fireplace. It’s an impressive feat of carpentry.

The inheritor of this family home is a sweet-natured, openhearted woman (Rosemary Boyce), who enters through the sturdy front door accompanied by her wealthy computer guru of a brother (Peter Gregory). He hasn’t visited in a while, yet immediately he begins to pick apart everything from her housekeeping to her choice of fiance.

It turns out that he is on hand to attend her wedding, though he distrusts his soon-to-be brother-in-law and will fume about this through the arrival of the intended (Daniel Murray) and the gathering of their friends (Sarah Aldrich, David Roberts, Michael Gallagher, Leslie Brockett and Heather Long).

The performances, under Michael Angelo Stuno’s direction, are entirely believable, from Roberts’ sad-sack slacker to Gregory’s prickly sibling. But what’s the point of it all (a few amusing lines notwithstanding)? The wrap-up, which champions the families we make as well as the ones we’re given, doesn’t make much sense, since the protagonist has surrounded herself with such impossible people. Poor woman, but at least she has that lovely house.

-- Daryl H. Miller

“A Safe Distance,” Apartment A at the Electric Lodge, 1416 Electric Ave., Venice. Thursdays-Saturdays, 8 p.m. Ends May 29. $15. (310) 306-1854. Running time: 2 hours.