An offbeat probe of charismatic faith

Home-schooled Ezekiel is a Southern-born, Bible-bred naif who develops stigmata when his mother dies. Ranger Hardgrove is an irreligious huckster with an eye for the easy mark. Ranger pays off Ezekiel’s hellion half-sister, and away they go, Ezekiel guilelessly bleeding while Ranger bilks the faithful.

Their contrasts carry “Power in the Blood” at Alliance Repertory Theatre and provoke as much thought as laughter. Sarah E. Bewley’s seriocomic look at the paradoxes of charismatic faith has a cracked punch that often recalls Del Shores.

Bewley takes an admirably ecumenical approach, with a gift for regional character detail. Some structural choices need rethinking (the multi-character prologue, for instance, its expository details better left to dialogue revelations). Some jokes and bathos are unnecessary, and the surreal aspects merit more exploitation. We should be aware that Ranger does not see what Ezekiel means to him long before it erupts at the ending.

Still, director Jim Blanchette sustains interest, shifting his motel-room set decor to mirror the upward climb (though the scene changes were still being refined at the reviewed performance). Design assets include Brent Beath’s lighting and Robert Spuhler’s gospel soundtrack.

The acting is uniformly vivid. Adam Legg gives Ezekiel convincing, Parsifal-like purity, and Mark Sivertsen keeps Ranger grounded in snide reality. As Sister, the angular Deb Hiett is a house-rattling find. Royana Black fully inhabits her ambiguous reporter, and Candice J. Hincks plays Ezekiel’s first convert with unsettling aplomb.

That sums up “Power in the Blood,” hardly flawless but fascinating. Its timely aspects and potential may well intrigue skeptics and believers.

-- David C. Nichols

“Power in the Blood,” Alliance Repertory Theatre, 3204 W. Magnolia Blvd., Burbank. 8 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays. Ends Sept. 3. Mature audiences. (800) 595-4849 or www.tix.com. Running time: 1 hour, 50 minutes.

*

Taken for a laugh-filled ride

Given the much-bemoaned decline of the sitcom, there is something reliably comforting about “Groundlings May Be Closer Than They Appear.” Though this new vehicle from L.A.’s premier improv troupe seldom hits new territory, it offers a consistently slick and funny ride.

The title’s rearview mirror warning suggests travel themes, but the un-PC sketches and improvisations cross a wide swath of targets (and amusingly bad wigs), from come-as-you-are brunches and blood drives to theme-park shows and Andrew Lloyd Webber.

If the show seems pro-forma Groundlings, its ethanol-powered players (with alternates) are all pros on form. Director Steve Hibbert steers them so smoothly that even so-so skits get laughs.

Melissa McCarthy rules in “Rules,” a spot-on send-up of corporate seminars. Mitch Silpa is hilarious, whether mugging as Tim Brennen’s clueless songwriting student or in voice-over as the loon who keeps halting Andrew Friedman’s incoming message. Ben Falcone and Michael Naughton are fearless in “Brief Brunch,” their lunacy building to the incomparable Jeremy Rowley’s exposed topper. Rowley hurls himself against Naughton’s rival warrior in the Universal Studios spoof, and he and Jordan Black offer a devastating off-the-cuff MTV history lesson.

Damon Jones’ schizophrenic take on Subway spokesperson Jared Fogle and his ad-libbed soul singing with the loopy Stephanie Courtney are wickedly entertaining. Kristen Wiig’s bad news-bearing flight attendant is a hoot, and patient Larry Dorf embraces therapist Falcone’s mantra -- “Easy-Peasy” -- with gonzo glee. As ever, Wille Etra’s red-hot band keeps the energy high throughout this representative road trip.

-- D.C.N.

“Groundlings May Be Closer Than They Appear,” Groundling Theater, 7307 Melrose Ave., L.A. 8 p.m. Fridays, 8 and 10 p.m. Saturdays. Ends Sept. 24. Mature audiences. $20. (323) 934-4747, Ext. 37. Running time: 1 hour, 40 minutes.

*

Bar mitzvah boy is no youngster

Tutoring sessions in preparation for a bar mitzvah raise profound questions of faith for student and teacher alike in “Lessons” at the Lee Strasberg Institute. Wendy Graf’s bittersweet -- if highly formulaic -- new drama deals with issues of assimilation and crises of belief in a two-character setting.

Both characters are a bit out of the mainstream. Ben (Hal Linden), a successful shoe manufacturer and self-proclaimed “watered-down Jew,” has decided late in life to pursue the formal bar mitzvah he missed in his secular upbringing. Ruth (Mare Winningham) is a bitter, disillusioned former rabbi haunted by past tragedy who reluctantly agrees to give Ben Hebrew lessons in preparation for his belated coming-of-age ceremony. Ben’s ruminations on the loss of Jewish cultural and religious identity through successive generations is a central concern of the play, and of the West Coast Jewish Theatre, which co-produced it with the resident Group at Strasberg.

The quirky setup quickly darkens as Graf heaps sufferings worthy of Job onto the shoulders of her characters. Tests of faith ranging from terminal illness to terrorist attacks are ladled out with sitcom banter and the kind of implausible behavior that serves plot over realism. It takes the considerable acting talents of Linden and Winningham, focused by Adam Davidson’s direction, to untangle authentic emotions from sentimentality amid all the shamelessly manipulative heartstring plucking.

It’s manipulation in the cause of rekindling appreciation for an ancient faith, but by relying on the self-evident value of Hebrew rituals without providing much insight into them, the play’s lessons are really preaching to the cantor. Ultimately, this is a play more about reassurance than discovery.

-- Philip Brandes

“Lessons,” Marilyn Monroe Theatre, Lee Strasberg Institute, 7936 Santa Monica Blvd., West Hollywood. 8 p.m. Thursdays through Saturdays, 2 and 7 p.m. Sundays. Ends Aug. 27. $25. (323) 650-7777 or www.westcoastjewishtheatre.org. Running time: 2 hours, 10 minutes.