Milking the Moor for lots of laughs

Continuing its scholarly tradition of cross-pollinating Shakespeare classics with classic ‘70s rock, the Troubadour Theatre Company employs golden oldies by the Electric Light Orchestra to bring time-burnished gravitas to the tragedy of the jealous Moor in “OthE.L.O.”

Pronounced trippingly as a single word (oh-THEE-ello), the Troubies’ latest Shakespeare parody, like its predecessors, combines live music, impeccably timed slapstick, acrobatic choreography and occasional resemblance to its source in freewheeling antics that bear the signature earmarks of having been conceived amid intensive late-night tavern research.

Recognizing that reliance on verse was the closest Shakespeare could come in his pre-show tune Elizabethan era to giving voice to passions in song, the Troubies courageously liberate the Bard’s vision from its historical fetters. What better way to convey OthE.L.O.’s obsession with his wife’s supposed infidelity than through an anguished rendition of “Can’t Get It Out of My Head,” or to vent the depths of his rage toward her than with “Evil Woman” (both crooned with smoldering intensity by Eric Anderson in the title role)?

Once again, director-creator Matt Walker and his inventive troupe milk sustained hilarity from the slenderest musical conceit. Among the high points: Anderson and Erin Matthews’ spunky Desdemona getting things off to a rowdy start by recounting their courtship in “Do Ya”; the ensemble bursting into “Livin’ Thing” to celebrate OthE.L.O.’s victorious homecoming from the Woodland Hills wars; and Walker’s nefarious Iago working “Strange Magic” while the rest dance like puppets on his strings. Eric Heinly’s superb six-piece band handles the accompaniment with stylistic heft and authenticity.

The piece affords ensemble members Matthew Morgan, Breanna Pine, Joseph Leo Bwarie, Jen Seifert and Lorin Shapiro ample opportunities to display their comic skills. And if in demonstrating their equally accomplished dramatic chops they allow an occasional couplet from the Bard’s original text to survive intact -- well, we won’t hold that against them.

-- Philip Brandes

“OthE.L.O,” Falcon Theatre, 4252 Riverside Drive, Burbank. 8 p.m. Wednesdays through Saturdays, 7 p.m. Sundays. (In repertory with “Alice in One-Hit- Wonderland”) Call for schedule. Ends Aug. 26. $32.50. (818) 955-8101 or www.falcontheatre.com. Running time: 1 hour, 10 minutes.

Disturbingly upbeat ‘Women’

When one thinks of “The Trojan Women,” comic relief isn’t the first thing that comes to mind. Indeed, most directors endow Euripides’ tragedy with a dirge-like intensity more akin to a requiem than a play. In his lively but problematic staging, presented by Lodestone Theatre Ensemble at the GTC Burbank, director Alberto Isaac tries a strikingly different tack. Working from Kenneth Cavender’s timely translation, Isaac accords his material much due solemnity. Too often, however, he interjects Euripides’ harrowing tale with weirdly misplaced playfulness.

Dennis Yen’s haunting original music sets an appropriately woeful mood. Mina Kinukawa’s stark-white set and Christopher M. Singleton’s glaring lighting evoke the baking sands of the Trojan seaside where deposed Queen Hecuba (Emily Kuroda) and her terrified women await transport to slavery and concubinage.

Touching in her ravaged dignity, Kuroda’s Hecuba is the strong center around which a finely tuned chorus of bereaved womenfolk revolves. Janet Song’s memorable Andromache evokes the pure anguish of a mother facing her worst nightmare. Kelvin Han Yee impresses as the larger-than-life Poseidon, who prances and poses like a martial arts master.

However, Yee’s comically overblown Menelaus fails to assume believably human dimensions. And the sadly overstated Patricia Ayame Thomson reduces Helen to a seductive cartoon rather than the transcendent siren who destroyed a civilization.

-- F. Kathleen Foley

“The Trojan Women,” GTC Burbank, 1111-B West Olive Ave., Burbank. 8 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays, 2 p.m. Sun- days. Ends Aug. 26. $15. (323) 993-7245 or www.lodestonetheatre.org. Running time: 1 hour, 20 minutes.

Not made for each other, and yet. . .

A beautiful young woman. A much older man. Two lonely hearts. Paris. Sounds like the ingredients for an May-December romantic cliche, but playwright Charles L. Mee is chronically discontent with tidy formulas in his plays, and “Limonade Tous les Jours” at 2100 Square Feet is no exception.

Essentially a two-hander, the piece is one of Mee’s more accessible works: Compared to others that have appeared on local stages, its straightforward setting and narrative don’t invoke the epic sprawl of classical Greek dramas. The apparent simplicity is deceptive, however, in Michael Conners’ mixed but frequently compelling staging.

On the plus side, a striking, pitch-perfect performance by Megan Boone illuminates many layers of complexity in Ya Ya, a twentysomething French nightclub chanteuse with an unfortunate soft spot for patriarchal authority.

The disconnect between head and heart surfaces in Ya Ya’s initial cafe meeting with Andrew (Peter Lewis), a vacationing American in his 50s recovering from a difficult marriage to a younger woman. Neither is seeking love, and both are mature enough to recognize the attraction between them is wrong -- so naturally they’re in bed together by the second scene.

Where Mee surprises and delights is in the sharp, nimble dialogue with which these characters explore their conflicted natures.

Their age difference figures prominently in some particularly witty and poignant exchanges, but it’s only a launching point as their discourse spins off into human polarities on a dizzying number of vectors -- pitting rationality against spontaneity, art against shopping, and culturally divided menu ordering protocols.

Less successful are the overlong amateur videos of the frolicking couple dictated in Mee’s script -- a hackneyed visual shorthand for relationship that only slows the momentum. Likewise an oddball ballet sequence stumbles despite the skillful accompaniment by sopranist Ethan Lin.

A heady, hyper-analytical jumble of colliding ideas that defy neat resolution goes with the territory in every Mee play. Boone impressively grounds this abstraction in a complete character. Alas, Lewis’ detached and perpetually distracted Andrew takes disinterest in his charming companion past the bounds of credibility.

-- P.B.P.

“Limonade Tous les Jours,” 2100 Square Feet, 5615 San Vicente Blvd., Los Angeles. 8 p.m. Thursdays through Saturdays, 3 p.m. Sundays. Ends Sept. 9. $20. (323) 960-7785 or www.plays411.com/limonade. Running time: 1 hour, 45 minutes.