The holidays sing at this 1940s club

As a convincingly plotted musical, “1940s Christmas at Club Sweet Lorraine’s,” now at the Playhouse Theatre Players, has some obvious limitations. However, as a cabaret showcase for some terrific musical talent, “Lorraine” is a robustly satisfying entertainment in the best spirit of the season.

The musical is set during World War II in a New York City nightclub, a hot spot where the races and celebrities intermingle freely. The paper-thin story line touches upon the troubled relationship between Silk (George Bouldin), a womanizing singer and emcee whose relationship with his songstress girlfriend, Irene (Suzanne Nichols), is about to unravel. Mostly, however, “Lorraine” is a straightforward revue featuring talented performers singing Christmas songs and other popular standards of the period. The audience is urged to sing along.

There are a few too many botched lines and slow cues, not to mention a couple of unconvincing celebrity “cameos” that could be jettisoned. Still, director Sharon L. Graine succeeds in establishing a warm and welcoming family atmosphere that is the real point of this show.

That and, of course, the singers, all polished professionals who know how to sell a song. Nichols is a particular stand-out, as are Kaleo Ashlly-Simpkins as Sarah “Sassy” Vaughn and Melissa Bryant as a languorously laid-back Billie Holiday. Although she’s more of a belter than a crooner, Pamala Fender is a no-holds-barred delight as Peggy Lee, whose smooth rendition of “Skylark” is a highlight.

-- F. Kathleen Foley

“1940s Christmas at Club Sweet Lorraine,” Playhouse Theatre Players, Brewery Art Colony, 600 Moulton Ave., Los Angeles. 8:30 p.m. Saturdays, 3 p.m. Sundays. Ends Dec. 23. $25. (323) 227-5410. Running time: 1 hour, 40 minutes.

‘Hug’-ably earnest yet so irascible

So much effort and so many high spirits have gone into “A Don’t Hug Me Christmas Carol” at the Lonny Chapman Group Repertory Theatre in Burbank that taking the production to task feels a bit like beating up the puppy you found in your Christmas stocking.

To belabor that image, this particular puppy does stay on the paper. Unfortunately, that paper happens to be Phil Olson’s book and lyrics, portions of which are messy in the extreme.

The action, which is, of course, set at Christmastime, transpires in a sleepy tavern in northern Minnesota owned by Gunner (Olson) and his wife, Clara (Therese Lentz). Cheap, grudging and perennially disgruntled, Gunner is jealous of his wife’s former romance with Sven Yorgensen (amusing Doug Engalla, filling in for regular cast member Chris Winfield), a native son who went on to become a prominent pop performer and composer. For her part, the sadly childless Clara is fed up by Gunner’s refusal to consider adopting a child, not to mention his grinding irascibility. When Gunner falls through an ice hole and winds up in a coma, he is visited by three Christmas spirits who show him the error of his Scrooge-like ways.

The cast also includes Mark Atha as Gunner’s goofy pal Kanute and Emily Trempe as Kanute’s ex-girlfriend Bernice, for whom Kanute still carries a flaming torch. The mostly able performers have fun cavorting, while much of Paul Olson’s original music is memorably hummable. The spectacular set by Winfield, Phil Olson and Sean Mulcahy, who also directs, is full of neon beer signs, license plates and other wonderfully convincing kitsch. But many of the gags fall flat, the lyrics can be inanely far-fetched, and Olson’s Gunner comes off as annoyingly taciturn rather than adorably grouchy.

There are laughs to be had, but one wishes that the local brew imbibed so freely on stage had flowed into the audience, to loosen things up a bit more.

-- F.K.F.

“A Don’t Hug Me Christmas Carol,” Lonny Chapman Group Repertory Theatre, 10900 Burbank Blvd., North Hollywood. 8 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays, 2 p.m. Sundays. Ends Jan. 27. $20. (818) 700-4878 or www.lcgrt.com. Running time: 1 hour, 45 minutes.

Homelessness: heartfelt musing

“ ‘Street Angel Diaries’ is not a play,” cautions its program notes -- a warning worth heeding in this multimedia meditation on the subject of homelessness. An immersive plunge into what composer-poet-creator Mary Lou Newmark legitimately characterizes as a separate society operating on downtown L.A.’s skid row, the piece combines music, poetry, movement, narrative and projected photographic art. Not all are executed with equal skill, however.

Newmark’s heartfelt central message frames the homeless as flesh-and-blood manifestations of a broken society, and an uncomfortable mirror that reminds us “we are a lot closer to falling apart than we are willing to admit.” Beyond stating these themes in one actor’s direct address to the audience, their most powerful expression comes not from any text, but through Newmark’s haunting score. Prowling an elevated walkway spanning the front and sides of the Boston Court Main Stage, Newmark strokes modernist musical sketches on her neon-lit electric violin -- picture Laurie Anderson on a good hair day, but aiming more at emotions than intellect. A discordant mix of live and recorded music punctuated with abstract audio effects assaults the viewer, reinforcing the theme of disintegration.

The dialogue is an equally fragmentary, often frustrating patchwork of evocative poetry, dry statistics and exposition, and snatches of purported personal histories of the homeless that are too brief to emerge as full-fledged characters. In these multiple abbreviated roles, the eight cast members deliver their lines with obvious passion, but when it comes to the choreographed elements in Darin Anthony’s staging, lack of formal dance training is apparent.

There are no surprises in the advocated point of view that homelessness is a tragic problem, and Newmark’s plea to recognize our connectedness as human beings is only a precursor to a solution. The piece ponders whether homelessness means more than lack of housing, drawing parallels with institutionalized populations -- but do such distinctions really matter when lives are damaged regardless?

-- Philip Brandes

“Street Angel Diaries,” Main Stage at Boston Court, 70 Mentor Ave., Pasadena. 8 p.m. today and Saturday, 2 p.m. Sunday. Ends Sunday. $25. (626) 683-6883, Ext. 106. or www.bostoncourt.org. Running time: 1 hour, 5 minutes.

Giving Dickens

an R-rated twist

Although King Herod was the original Christmas villain and Dr. Seuss’ small-hearted Grinch has the kids’ market cornered, that miserly Ebenezer Scrooge remains perhaps the definitive yuletide meanie.

“A Dickens Radio Carol” at Secret Rose Theatre aims to bring Charles Dickens’ immortal purveyor of humbug into this century. To that end, author Robert Norman Knight’s snide send-up of Dickens and radio drama has some bright ideas and a game cast. To those for whom the Farrelly brothers can do no wrong, this may suffice.

Using live microphones, hand-held scripts, sound effects and a colorful backdrop of hats, the outlines of “A Christmas Carol” get an irreverent makeover. Scrooge (A.C. Carter) is now the proprietor of an adult cinema, behaving atrociously to projectionist Bob Crotchet, until the ghost of Bob Marley ganja-shoves him into soul-searching. The three spirits are decidedly untraditional, especially Christmas Future (Amy Lawhorn), a popeyed extraterrestrial.

Knight directs this mulligatawny with a great deal of sass, and Robert Arturo Ramirez supplies a resourceful soundtrack. Trace Barrett, Rick Hopwood, Steve Howard and Adrian Rice are the men of the ensemble. Alexis Campanella, Jennifer Harper, Athena Palmer and Alice Walker are the women.

They all have their comic moments, but R-rated humor and rushed delivery works against seasonal warmth. This would be less problematic if the laugh quota was higher, or the frat-house vulgarity countered with consistent wit. It’s harmless enough, but even as a shameless parody this “Radio Carol” is still searching for the proper frequency.

-- David C. Nichols

“A Dickens Radio Carol,” Secret Rose Theatre, 11246 Magnolia Blvd., North Hollywood. 10 p.m. Wednesday and Thursday; 4 p.m. Saturday. Ends Dec. 21. Adult audiences. $12. (818) 766-3691, Ext. 5. Running time: 55 minutes.