Fabric of ‘Taffetas’ pleasing but thin

“A smile is a crooked line that makes everything straight,” goes the motto of “The Taffetas,” presented by Woodland Hills Theatre Group in Canoga Park. This 1988 bubble, subtitled “A Musical Journey Through the Fabulous ‘50s,” is slight, silly and sweetly entertaining.

“Taffetas,” conceived by Rick Lewis two years before “Forever Plaid” appeared, follows a sister act from Muncie, Ind., through its national TV debut on the Dumont network, complete with camera operator and applause sign.

Between medley after medley of ‘50s standards we get plugs for Galaxy Beauty Products and practiced patter from the beaming Taffetas. Interchangeable in home perms and gingham (courtesy of costume designer Don Nelson), they salute their Hoosier folks, answer fan mail and pray that Ed Sullivan tunes in.

That’s the theme park package, less subtle than a drag revue and not above swiping male Top 40 hits or using hand bells. Yet when the charming stars tackle their vocals and director-choreographer Noel Britton’s frisky moves in crisp harmony, the limits of the chiffon-thin concept dissolve.

As redheaded Kaye, rich-voiced Bianca Caruso has a satirical edge that recalls Joan Cusack. Kathi Funston gives enthusiastic Peggy straight-faced humor and potent chops, and Lauren Nasman finds endearing dimness in “natural blond” Cheryl. Britton’s antic, Chevy convertible-loving Donna completes a fluent foursome that tweaks the Lawrence Welk ethos with a bright assist from musical director Patricia Hannifan.

Los Angeles is apparently entering a cycle of girl-group tuners. “Beehive,” the grandma of the form, receives its belated local premiere in September, followed by Roger Bean’s newly revised “The Marvelous Wonderettes.”

Although “Taffetas” lacks the respective pop-culture drive and narrative heft of those sorority jukebox shows, it rustles its skirts in deft, crowd-grabbing fashion.

-- David C. Nichols

“The Taffetas,” West Valley Playhouse, 7242 Owensmouth Ave., Canoga Park. 8 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays, 2:30 p.m. Sundays. Ends Sept. 10. $28. (818) 884-1907. Running time: 1 hour, 40 minutes.

*

Groundlings gain comic altitude

Dependable laughs accompany “Groundlings Good Time Pig Farm.” This latest showcase from the comic institution features fewer ad-lib spots and more self-contained sketches than usual. Under the breezy direction of Roy Jenkins, “Pig Farm” is not exactly thematic, but that’s never stopped the Groundlings before, and the alternating writer-performers work their shtick with aplomb.

For example, the opening “Arclight” targets multiplex greeters, played to the geeky hilt by Andrew Friedman and Kevin Kirkpatrick. Wacky invention enlivens “Now You See It,” as Mikey Day and Michael Naughton pull us into their “science of invisibility” through video tricks. “Mr. and Mrs. Andrew Somers” presents Kent Sublette and Jill Matson-Sachoff as hysterically undulating newlyweds.

The riskiest skits involve children: Steve Little’s specially challenged object of affection in “School Ties,” or Day and Friedman’s “Lifelike,” a Dadaist study in self-devouring Muppets. At the reviewed performance, Matson-Sachoff’s graphic mom and Wendi McLendon-Covey’s mortified kid struggled not to break each other up in “Carpool,” to the crowd’s delight.

Old-school spontaneity drives “Eulogy,” which finds gnarly bikers Naughton and Friedman memorializing a volunteer corpse from the audience. Ben Falcone and Hugh Davidson go “Truckin’ ” with sleazy glee, and Davidson and Little lambaste Hollywood script conferences in “The Writing Is Good.” McLendon-Covey, Matson-Sachoff and the delirious Stephanie Courtney have a perverse field day as the “Naughty Little Bluebirds” of the finale.

Though this seasoned cast of crazies only occasionally takes us to hog heaven, they and the ever-rocking band -- music director Willie Etra, Howard Greene and Larry Treadwell -- are reliably diverting. It’s anybody’s guess as to what’s up with the title.

-- David C. Nichols

“Groundlings Good Time Pig Farm,” Groundlings Theatre, 7307 Melrose Ave., L.A. 8 p.m. Fridays, 8 and 10 p.m. Saturdays. Ends Sept. 16. $20. (323) 934-4747. Running time: 1 hour, 45 minutes.

*

‘Little Armenia’ strives for drama

Sweetly intended and crammed to capacity with sincerity, “Little Armenia,” now in its world premiere at the Fountain Theatre, is one of those laboring little choo-choos that never quite reaches the summit of viable drama.

The play was commissioned by the Fountain, which is nestled in the heart of Little Armenia, an Ellis Island of sorts to Los Angeles’ Armenian community, now numbering about 500,000 and counting. The Fountain’s artistic staff picked three playwrights -- Lory Bedikian, Aram Kouyoumdjian and Shahe Mankerian -- then sent them into the neighboring community to interview residents of Armenian descent.

Those interviews form the basis of the play, which is obviously intended as an overview of the Armenian immigrant experience, as filtered through the perspective of Ashot (Ludwig Manukian), a struggling writer who functions as narrator. Three major story lines, each crafted by a different playwright, vie for pride of place in this busy piece, which has been broadly but effectively directed by Armina LaManna, who keeps the action brisk and obvious.

The production is laced throughout by an invigorating humor leavened with a healthy dose of genuine sentiment. Standouts include Anoush Nevart as a single mother struggling to raise her son on a minimum-wage salary, and Jack Kandel as a grocer with a heart ailment who is unable to accept his daughter’s Anglo boyfriend. Larger issues -- the Armenian genocide, the divide between the American dream and the American reality, and the fierce insularity of a beleaguered but proud people -- are touched upon, sometimes quite movingly.

However, despite a fair share of laughs and a few jerked tears, “Little Armenia” succeeds more as a community outreach than a fully fledged work of theater. At this point in time, this committee-designed choo-choo is still spinning its wheels.

-- F. Kathleen Foley

“Little Armenia,” Fountain Theatre, 5060 Fountain Ave., Hollywood. 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays, 2 p.m. Sundays. Ends Sept. 3. $25-$28. (323) 663-1525. Running time: 1 hour, 20 minutes.

*

Unintended frights of ‘Nightmare’

The mystery-thriller basics are all here: A wealthy older woman, living alone in the English countryside, is made vulnerable by illness. Caregivers and delivery people come and go, and a dissolute nephew skulks about. One or more of them may have an interest in hurrying her demise. What “Nightmare,” at Theatre 40, doesn’t have is that invisible hand that reaches out, grabs you by the shirt collar and pulls you into the story.

British writer Norman Robbins starts off OK, as he drops clues about which characters might or might not be trustworthy. Appealing performances are quickly registered by Dorothy Sinclair, as a gossipy shopkeeper who drops in to make deliveries, and Ursula Lovemore, as a sweet-natured neighbor who’s been hired to help the ailing romance novelist played by Gloria Stroock. The appearance of Michael Piscitelli, as the menacing nephew, heightens the element of danger. He immediately tries to pocket a trinket belonging to his aunt and, when caught, attempts to smooth her ruffled feathers with a mock cheerfulness that scarcely hides his greed and desperation.

The elegant surroundings, designed by Jeff G. Rack for a concurrent production of Neil Simon’s “Rumors,” hint at the amount of money at stake. Fatally, though, the story becomes mired in convolutions and needless banter, and Stu Berg’s staging develops little momentum or suspense.

“Nightmare” is predicated on the audience’s making certain assumptions, based on what characters say and how they behave. Motives are meant to be analyzed and reanalyzed. Yet this long, talky exercise seems hardly worth the effort.

-- Daryl H. Miller

“Nightmare,” Theatre 40, 241 Moreno Drive, on the campus of Beverly Hills High School. 2 p.m. Sundays, 8 p.m. Mondays through Wednesdays. Ends Aug. 30. $20 and $22. (310) 364-0535. Running time: 2 hours, 30 minutes.