The tabloid news that really sings

“Go three miles down the highway of youth / And make a left at 1974,” belt out dyslexic Robert Blake and opportunistic Bonny Lee Bakley from corresponding restrooms at Vitello’s, May 4, 2001. “Hang a right at rock ‘n’ roll / And bear left at ‘for rich or for poorer.’ ”

Other of its brazen lyrics would more directly convey the whacked attack of “Blake ... da Musical!” but this is a family newspaper. Such salacious cheer makes Rick Batalla and Henry Phillips’ twisted tabloid tuner that much more shamelessly enjoyable.

Former Troubadour Theatre Company member Batalla brings similar frenzy to “Blake,” revised since its 2003 New York Fringe Festival premiere. Set against Don Vitello’s Studio City eatery (dryly realized by designer Leonard Ogden), “Blake” dishes out musical theater pastiche and the free-fall irreverence of “South Park” on a cracked “Access Hollywood” platter.

Barring uneven dances, Batalla and co-director Kevin Cochran take full advantage of Batalla’s proudly outrageous book in their antic staging. Phillips’ rocking combo catapults his and Batalla’s blithely trash-talking songs, and the unfettered cast shoots across the itty-bitty venue like a button popped off packed designer jeans.

Batalla won the Fringe’s best actor award as Blake; his jaw-dropping turn explains why. Molly Benson matches him beat for demented beat, her Bonny pitched between Bernadette Peters and Pacoima. Travis Clark’s testy restaurateur, Bob Simpson’s indestructible waiter and Kate Danley’s unprintable fairy godmother are beyond hysterical. Vince Cefalu defies comprehension as Fred the Cockatoo.

Though anything but a great, let alone integrated, musical, as tacky Tinseltown travesties go, “Blake ... da Musical!” is da bomb. See it with someone you hate to love.

-- David C. Nichols

“Blake ... da Musical!,” GTC Burbank, 1111-B W. Olive Ave., Burbank. 8 p.m. Saturdays and Sundays. Ends Aug. 28. Adult audiences. $20. (818) 288-3855 or www.gtc.org. Running time: 1 hour, 25 minutes.

*

Success in nearly full ‘Measure’

Like “The Merchant of Venice,” with its troubling questions of anti-Semitism, Shakespeare’s “Measure for Measure” is a tough sell.

With its topics of abuse of power, sexual blackmail and the death penalty for premarital sex, the humor often plays uneasily within the context of its complex -- and seemingly cruel -- reflection on private, public and political morality.

Shakespeare Orange County, mounting a handsome “Measure” at the Festival Amphitheatre in Garden Grove, didn’t get the word. Under the astute direction of Carl Reggiardo, the company, despite unevenness among the supporting cast, realizes the troublesome text with refreshing clarity and comic ease.

This is accomplished without compromising the play’s somber heart as Duke Vincentio (an arresting Baron Kelly) pulls strings, unseen, while observing his licentious people and the behavior of his chosen deputy, Angelo. Chief among the bawds, fools and villains -- including Michael Nehring’s delicious backbiting gossip Lucio -- tormented Angelo (sterling Bo Foxworth) condemns hapless Claudio to death for impregnating his own betrothed and forces himself on Claudio’s novitiate sister Isabella (an intelligent turn by Katie A. Keane).

Sly asides and comic interludes elicit frequent laughter, yet the production still disturbs, its final scene a chilling reminder of the life-and-death control of the powerful over the powerless.

-- Lynne Heffley

“Measure for Measure,” Festival Amphitheatre, 12740 Main St., Garden Grove. 8:15 p.m. Thursdays through Saturdays; ends Aug. 20. $29. (714) 590-1575 or www.chapman.edu/shakespeare. Running time: 2 hour, 30 minutes.

*

Division is no plus for ‘Jane & Joe’

West Liang’s new experimental playwriting project, “The Legend of Jane & Joe,” is not exactly the stuff of legend. Its would-be claim to fame is in taking a fairly conventional love story about a contemporary young writer and an aspiring actress and splitting each character into three fragments, each portrayed by a different performer -- but this amounts to little more than an exercise designed to offer stage time to more actors.

Justin Huen’s staging introduces all three personas of each character at the same time; grammatical cues in each trio’s discussions signal they’re aspects of the same person. Jane is represented as a frisky flake (Lexi Karriker), a careerist (Elizabeth Al) and an optimist (Laura Hess). Joe’s individuated traits are vanity (Ethan Mechare), discipline (Parvesh Cheena) and fear (Liang). Also on hand are an older manifestation of Joe (Esequiel Ruelas) as frustrated writer, and personifications of Fate (Amy Lucas) and Love (Huen).

The most successful scene is a dream sequence in which Liang’s fearful Joe grapples with the nature of writing, as Hess’ more emotionally mature Jane suggests he’s so afraid of failure that he has to create a perfect imaginary world.

The obvious opportunity afforded by the split-personality conceit is to explore conflict between the different aspects of the fractured selves. But what we get is more like lock-step tag-team dialogue. Internal discord rarely amounts to anything more substantial than arguments among the three Janes over what to wear on their first date with Joe.

This lack of depth also carries over to the relationship itself, which unfolds in a blandly generic three-year arc of initial infatuation, quarreling over incompatibilities and breakup.

Exploring the affair from multiple perspectives offers little more than redundancy. The various pairings show us three ways to leave your lover, but it feels like we’ve sat through all 50 by the time this one’s over.

-- Philip Brandes

“The Legend of Jane & Joe,” Ricardo Montalban Theatre, 1615 N. Vine St., Hollywood. 8 p.m. Thursdays through Saturdays, 7 p.m. Sundays. Ends Aug. 28. $20. (310) 440-9710 or www.karmacoffeehouse.com. Running time: 1 hour, 55 minutes.