Facing death in the Deep South

Novelist Ernest J. Gaines grew up picking cotton in Louisiana and went on to win a MacArthur “genius” grant, so he knows a little something about extraordinary journeys. “A Lesson Before Dying,” adapted by Romulus Linney from Gaines’ novel, and now playing at the Actors Group Theatre, follows a poor, nearly illiterate young African American’s trip from an ill-timed visit to a corner store to the electric chair.

It’s rural Louisiana, 1948. A botched trial and an all-white jury have landed Jefferson (Malik B. El-Amin, effectively understated) on death row, the first man in the parish to face execution in 50 years. Jefferson’s godmother (Vivian Vanderwerd, substituting for Baadja-Lyne at the reviewed performance) enlists the local plantation schoolteacher, Grant (the tightly wound Eddie Goines), to help the condemned “die like a man.”

Trouble is, Grant can barely live with himself or his race. Like the white public defender who likened Jefferson to little more than a hog, this educated black man has nothing but contempt for “ignorant” folk like Jefferson who can’t keep themselves out of trouble.

No surprise that the teacher will end up learning from his student. But the two men’s path toward mutual and self-respect packs a genuine wallop, primarily because Gaines never lets you forget the near-annihilating conditions under which Southern African Americans had -- still have -- to defend their own value.

This production, a collaboration of Doxie 4 Productions, the Actors Repertory and the Actors Group, shoehorns itself onto a tiny stage crammed with rough-hewn wooden furniture and dusty blackboards. But while the show’s physical size may be small, Penny L. Moore, who directed and designed this “Lesson,” mines Gaines’ fierce moral clarity and depth of feeling to reveal the scale of the play’s soul. It’s a mighty one.

-- Charlotte Stoudt

“A Lesson Before Dying” Actors Group Theatre, 4378 Lankershim Blvd., Universal City. 8 p.m. Fridays through Sundays. Ends Feb. 18. $15. (818) 585-8880. Running time: 2 hours, 15 minutes.

‘Love, Lies’ and resourcefulness

A fledgling company trying to help get momentum going at the Ricardo Montalban Theatre is on the boards again with a new name and a new presentation. The Nosotros American Latino Theatre, which presented a double bill of one-acts in the fall, is back as the Ricardo Montalban Repertory Theatre Company, with another double bill of one-acts -- this one improving promisingly upon the fall’s.

The first, more intriguing play echoes Jesus’ final days. The central character in Arthur Meiselman’s “The Wafer” is a revolutionary (Antonio Vega) who plans to sacrifice himself, believing that his execution will prompt the people of his unnamed country to rise up against their oppressors.

Also set during a time of repression, Katrina Elias’ “Red Colombian Sky” envisions a fading prostitute (Estrella Tamez) -- is she an angel of death? -- who comforts such men as the young resistance fighter (Michael Kours) who’s just been savagely beaten.

Company leaders David Llauger-Meiselman and Felipe Alejandro directed the respective plays, which are presented under the banner title “Love, Lies and Revolution.”

As in the fall, the audience is placed on the long-underused Montalban Theatre’s stage, which has been sealed off from the much larger auditorium to create a 60-seat performing space. Production values are limited, but this company makes an art of resourcefulness.

At once stylish and pulse-pumping, Llauger-Meiselman’s staging of his father’s “The Wafer” incorporates big-screen video reports (by brother Erik Llauger-Meiselman) on the sharply dressed thugs who are in power. Some scene-tweaking obscures the story line, but Vega’s performance -- virile and commanding, yet humanized by doubt -- galvanizes the piece.

The magical realism of “Sky,” unfortunately, is only fitfully effective, which leaves it less successful at conveying the presentation’s overarching thoughts about the sometimes high cost of trying to change the world.

-- Daryl H. Miller

“Love, Lies and Revolution,” Ricardo Montalban Theatre, 1615 N. Vine St., Hollywood. 8 p.m. Thursdays and Fridays, 3 and 8 p.m. Saturdays and Sundays. Ends Feb. 25. $16. (800) 595-4849 or www.rmrtc.org. Running time: 1 hour, 30 minutes.

‘Aboriginal’: Play or polemic?

As a provocative slap in the face of disenfranchisement, “The Aboriginal Treatment Center” at Art Share Los Angeles could hardly be more assertive. Ron Allen’s raw, ultra-poetic examination of the African American experience rips into its targets to locate the true nature of freedom within one archetypal black man’s mind.

Purposeful rage attends the manic maneuvers of this Thick Knot Rhythm Ensemble offering, its kinetic and verbal metaphors a springboard for abstract excoriation. After a feverishly opaque intro by author Allen, recovering addict Tyrone Smith (Jemal McNeil) enters, wearing coveralls and tap shoes and wielding a janitor’s bucket.

Settling in with a porn magazine, Tyrone is unprepared for what comes next. Three women (Erinn Anova, Lynne Conner and Dee Freeman), clad in blue, glittery creme and red, circle Tyrone with stylized intensity. From the house comes an evangelistic judge (Lamont A. Coleman) with half-white face, who yanks Tyrone into a nonlinear trial for his very soul.

Under director-designer McNeil’s free-form guidance, “Aboriginal Treatment Center” has the courage of Allen’s convictions, and its invested players tackle their agitprop duties with fervor. McNeil’s strong presence and Coleman’s outsized resonance are studies in ferocious contrast. All three women deliver Allen’s text and Nikki Brown’s pointed choreography with aplomb, and Tamara L. Curry carries the epilogue as Tyrone’s crack-ridden, roller-skating replacement.

However, the site-specific whole is more guerrilla performance art than fully realized dramaturgy. The blend of urban profanity and cosmic spirituality does not automatically equal a theatrical statement. That should be irrelevant to the modern mind-set that Allen seeks to stimulate.

Still, whether “Aboriginal Treatment Center” is a comprehensive play or a noteworthy polemic is debatable. Viewers can and should decide for themselves.

-- David C. Nichols

“The Aboriginal Treatment Center,” Art Share Los Angeles, 326 S. Hewitt St., L.A. 8 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays, 4 p.m. Sundays (noon and 4 p.m. Feb. 18). Ends Feb. 18. Adult audiences. $15. (323) 960-1055 or www.plays411.com/aboriginal. Running time: 1 hour, 10 minutes