On the lam in ‘Dahlia’

If you’re a fan of film noir, you’ll get a big kick out of “The Blue Dahlia,” now at the Pacific Resident Theatre. Even if you’re not, chances are you will still find this stage version of Raymond Chandler’s 1946 film classic vastly entertaining.

The story revolves around Johnny Morrison, a war hero who must go on the lam after his cheating wife is murdered. Of course, while he’s frantically trying to trace the real killer and clear his name, Morrison meets a classy dame with a mysterious past.

With the exception of a few embellished characters and a tweaked ending, adaptor Dan O’Connor, who also directs, lifts the film’s dialogue almost verbatim. Call this stage noir, but with a difference. Whereas the film, which paired the popular acting team of Alan Ladd and Veronica Lake, was a rattling potboiler that took itself very seriously, O’Connor’s staging is seasoned with a hearty pinch of parody.

That parodic quality is particularly evident in the second act. The first act is played in apparent seriousness -- so much so that a puzzling tonal rift splits the production. That divide is forgivable, however, considering the other virtues of O’Connor’s massively ambitious staging.

The technical elements are virtuosic, particularly Alexander Enberg’s versatile set and Audrey Eisner’s handsome period costumes. Cate Caplin’s musical staging is also noteworthy, while Matt McKenzie and Amir Khalighi’s sharp fight choreography would do a veteran stunt coordinator proud.

The large cast is also terrific. As Johnny, the Ladd role, Robb Derringer hard-boils his tough-guy character to just the right degree of rubbery resilience. A latter-day Lake, Katy Selverstone mingles high class and shimmering sex appeal. Matt McKenzie excels as a dapper, deadly gangster with a broken heart, while Steve Spiro’s brain-damaged vet appears poised to explode at any instant.

Legend has it that Chandler penned this screenplay -- his only work written directly for the screen -- while dead drunk. A few huge holes in the plot would seem to bear out that story. Whatever its derivation, this rich, flawed, tangled yarn has been given a fresh new twist by O’Connor and company.

F. Kathleen Foley

*

“The Blue Dahlia,” Pacific Resident Theatre, 703 Venice Blvd., Venice. 8 p.m. Thursdays through Saturdays, 3 p.m. Sundays. Ends Dec. 18. $20 to $27. (310) 822-8392. Running time: 2 hours, 15 minutes.

*

Listening to ‘Life,’ live from the ‘40s

In recent years, Frank Capra’s “It’s a Wonderful Life” has become a Christmas perennial, as familiar to audiences as “A Christmas Carol” or “The Nutcracker.”

In fact, the film has been so exhaustively rerun over the last decade or so that it has been arguably overexposed. However, even if you feel somewhat burned out by the oft-repeated tale of George Bailey, the small-town hero who is saved from suicidal despair by a lovable angel, you may find yourself warming up to the story all over again in “It’s a Wonderful Life: A Live Radio Play,” a West Coast premiere at Actors Co-op.

Adaptor Joe Landry has set the story in a 1940s radio station, a milieu perfectly evoked by Gary Reed’s cozy period set, which features “Applause” and “On the Air” signs, as well as a window that opens onto a panoramic vista of the Hollywood Hills, complete with “Hollywoodland” sign. In Landry’s play-within-a-play, a small cast performs an abbreviated version of the film in a live radio broadcast. The action is divided into acts, separated by station identification breaks and crisply performed advertising jingles.

Under Marianne Savell’s astute direction, five performers impersonate all the characters from the film, while a hard-working foley artist (Bruce Ladd) contributes a variety of hilariously low-tech sound effects.

As George, the role made famous by Jimmy Stewart, Rick Marcus is initially a bit bland but invests his latter scenes with such raw power that we are sucker-punched with unanticipated emotion. Lori Rom Steadman gives the potentially treacly character of Mary, George’s wife, a bracingly acerbic quality. Ronnie Steadman, Deborah Lynn Meier and Ted Rooney ably round out the cast in a variety of smaller roles. Rooney’s dead-on impersonation of the curmudgeonly Lionel Barrymore is a highlight of this familiar but gently diverting entertainment.

-- F.K.F.

“It’s a Wonderful Life: A Live Radio Play,” Crossley Terrace Theatre at Actors Co-op, 1760 N. Gower St., Hollywood. 8 p.m. Wednesdays through Fridays, 2:30 and 8 p.m. Saturdays, 2:30 p.m. Sundays. Ends Dec. 23. $30. (323) 462-8460. Running time: 1 hour, 15 minutes.

*

The funny thing about politics ...

Typically, the title of “Groundlings Super Squadron: Defenders of the Universe” conveys little of the show’s content. Fans of L.A.’s improvisational mainstay may find this Jim Rash-directed parade of alternating writer-performers in sketches and ad-libs reliably funny, albeit uneven on the originality front, some spot-on political bits notwithstanding.

“Gored in the Bedroom,” for example, is a set piece about marital self-help books that turns on audience input. What refreshes this time-honored technique is Kevin Ruf, who hilariously channels Al Gore in every lisping detail. Hugh Davidson’s “The Incredible Bolt” nails U.N. Ambassador John Bolton, his ill-repressed outrage ending in one of the few superhero jokes. In “Bless This Child,” new parents Kent Sublette and Stephanie Courtney trill a roundelay while treating their infant doll like a Frisbee. The comically choreographed “On Patrol” finds Annie Mumolo scoring as an LAPD officer on a rap-happy ninja trek. Other standouts include “Surprise!” by Mumolo and Kevin Kirkpatrick, a mega-disastrous anniversary party saga, and “The ‘We’re All Going to Die’ Guy,” with Ruf, Kirkpatrick, Davidson, Steve Little and Steven Pierce harpooning seafaring film cliches.

At the reviewed Thanksgiving weekend performance, a gap persisted between printed lineup and on-stage playing order. Some blips are glaring, with Sublette’s juror-from-hell in “The Trial” and Mumolo and Little’s “Old West” bordello sketch undeveloped notions, even with Mumolo as accurately named Crazy Fannie. Newcomers should have fewer qualms, and music director Wille Etra’s band would rock out during Armageddon.

-- David C. Nichols

“Groundlings Super Squadron: Defenders of the Universe,” Groundlings Theatre, 7307 Melrose Ave., L.A. 8 p.m. Fridays, 8 and 10 p.m. Saturdays. Indefinitely. $20. (323) 934-4747, Ext. 37. Running time: 1 hour, 50 minutes.

*

‘Heavyweight’ relaces the gloves

In 1955, Rod Serling penned an elegy to a failed fighter in a corrupt system. When it aired as a “Playhouse 90” telecast in 1956, “Requiem for a Heavyweight” made Serling famous and took critics, audiences and awards organizations to the mat. A similar impact attends the mounting of this classic by Chestnuts Productions and Theater West, centered by Michael Harrity’s knockout turn as boxer-on-the-ropes Mountain McClintock.

Once nearly the world heavyweight champion, McClintock has hit the skids. Possibly brain-damaged, prematurely old by his 30s, McClintock has nothing left but devotion to manager Maish (George Tovar), a misjudgment of epic proportions. Maish, indebted to gangsters after betting against his own fighter, manipulates the Mountain’s dumb loyalty into exhibition wrestling, which appalls trainer Army (Daniel Keough). What will happen when McClintock realizes how Maish has used him?

That question fuels Serling’s narrative, lovingly directed by Howard Storm. Despite some period dust mites of pace and attitude, the histrionic punch remains intact. Designer Jeff Rack provides excellent multiple settings, a seamy locker room revealing an Edward Hopper-esque bar with ease.

Harrity, whose craggy features and powerful physicality often suggest John Wayne, gives a wholly heart-wrenching portrayal. Keough gives Army old-school force, and Tovar exudes nervous oiliness as Maish. Bruce Liberty, Matthew Hoffman, Lynda Lynet and Dan Dunn are other standouts in the noir-flavored cast. At the reviewed performance, understudy Claire Partin went in for Selah Victor as social worker Grace. Though Partin’s readings are hesitant, her sincerity is evident, which typifies this two-fisted revival.

-- D.C.N.

“Requiem for a Heavyweight,” Theatre West, 3333 Cahuenga Blvd. West, L.A. 8 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays, 2 p.m. Sundays. Ends Dec. 10. $20. (323) 851-7977. Running time: 2 hours, 15 minutes.