Heedless passion, as if ‘Headless’

Part of our fascination with carnival freak shows is the distorted mirror they hold up to our own natures. In Lea Floden’s “Headless,” the more twisted that mirror, the better -- a sentiment taken to heart in Dan Bonnell’s inventive, atmospheric staging for Ensemble Studio Theatre-L.A.

Steeped in carny jargon and bizarre imagery, Floden’s drama takes place in the Depression-era Dust Bowl -- a time of drought, both climatic and spiritual. Drawn to a particularly seedy traveling troupe like moth to flame is Frank (Jon Beavers), the surviving heir of a tragedy-plagued family. Gangly, naive and bristling with unsettling intensity, Frank becomes obsessed with one of the carnival’s creepier attractions -- the amazing Headless Woman (an illusion fully realized in a deft bit of stagecraft). Backstage, Frank discovers she’s a fully intact, jaded single mother named Net (Salli Saffioti), shunned by her fellow carnies as a witch, whose rumored scandalous past strangely parallels his own tortured history.

A match made in hell, these kindred damaged spirits find themselves literally playing with fire. Their desperate love affair traces a bleak quest for personal redemption, with supernatural overtones.

Mirroring the characters’ splintered psyches, the story zigzags in time. Withholding key pieces of the puzzle provokes some head scratching in the early going and impedes sympathy for the characters, but the chronological fragmentation effectively furthers one of Floden’s primary themes: the impenetrable mystery that lies beneath a veneer of comprehensible behavior.

At times, though, the piece loses sight of the difference between evocative ambiguity and arbitrary murkiness. Furthermore, reliance on mannered expository monologue from various ensemble members proves a less satisfying shortcut than showing events and letting us form our own impressions. Keeping these limitations in check is a credit to the capable cast and Bonnell’s stylish presentation.

-- Philip Brandes

“Headless,” Electric Lodge, 1416 Electric Ave., Venice. 8 p.m. Thursdays through Saturdays, 3 p.m. Sundays. Ends June 24. $20 and $25. (213) 368-9552. Running time: 1 hour, 55 minutes.

A compelling new look at ‘Desire’

While researching another project, director Jeffrey Hayden learned that in mid-19th century New England many black, free farmers owned their land. That revelation inspired Hayden to cast African American actors in “Desire Under the Elms,” Eugene O’Neill’s durably cathartic tragedy set in 1850 New England.

It’s a fascinating new spin on a familiar piece. Hayden, whose previous production of “Fences” had a successful run at the Odyssey, returns to the same venue for what is in many ways an encore production. Charlie Robinson, who played the psychologically abusive Troy Maxon in “Fences,” here plays the even more toweringly abusive Ephraim Cabot -- a proud, “hard” man who builds not fences but endlessly constricting walls from the rocks of his farm’s stony soil.

Ephraim’s youngest son, Eben (David Batiste), is obsessed with recovering land that previously belonged to his mother. But when Ephraim brings home a new wife, Abby (Nadege August), Eben’s lust for Abby trumps his lust for land. The clash among this rocky trio results in a catastrophic upheaval.

Charles Erven’s sparse, spectral set foreshadows the misfortune to come. Among a gifted cast, Robinson and Batiste stand out, although August, perhaps a decade too young for her role, initially plays Abby more as a sex kitten than an archetypal siren. The broad New England dialect occasionally overtaxes the performers, while Hayden’s typically assured staging needs a jolt in the ploddingly paced final scenes. Despite those shortcomings, this worthy production has been richly reconsidered and bears our close attention.

-- F. Kathleen Foley

“Desire Under the Elms,” Odyssey Theatre Ensemble, 2055 S. Sepulveda Blvd., L.A. 8 p.m. Thursdays through Saturdays, 2 p.m. Sundays (exception: 7 p.m. this Sunday), 8 p.m. Wednesdays through June only. Ends July 29. $24 and $26. (310) 477-2055. Running time: 2 hours, 40 minutes.

Unexamined lives; it’s all about ‘Me’

Posing the paradoxical question of whether infidelity can be healthy for a relationship, Johnny Garcia’s “Satisfy Me” succinctly broadcasts in its title everything you need to know about the emotional depth of its characters.

Developed as a reunion project for an accomplished ensemble of New York University graduate acting program alums, Garcia’s comedy offers well-crafted performances and lively energy under Andrew Borba’s direction. In contrast to an unapologetic sex farce, however, it runs into trouble by trying to be overly thoughtful in the way it approaches a shallow sitcom scenario.

Temptation intrudes on the orderly if not exactly impassioned seven-year marriage of Jack (Garcia) and Julie (Josie Whittlesey) when Jack’s high school pal Woody (Victor Williams, from “The King of Queens”) reappears after a long absence seeking relationship advice. His fiancee (Kate Guyton) has just revealed her inability to stop having affairs -- like a nervous tic, it’s something Woody will just have to get used to.

Outraged that Woody would consider such an arrangement, Jack and Julie take him in for a few days, but there’s a hypocritical side to their disapproval. Jack is cheating on Julie with a sexy secretary (Samantha Quan), while Julie’s secret attraction to Woody blossoms in a notably heartfelt scene that cuts through the general silliness. Jack’s maladroit sister (Anney Giobbe) ties up some loose plot threads, and Christopher Michael Bauer supplies various supporting characters.

The disappointing limitation here is the single-minded pursuit of self-gratification that drives these characters. Like the air they breathe, it’s so natural and unexamined that there’s no way for them to move past it. Instead, we’re sold a facile rapprochement that isn’t earned with honesty or caring.

-- P.B.

“Satisfy Me,” Lillian Theatre at Elephant Stageworks, 6322 Santa Monica Blvd., Hollywood. 8 p.m. Thursdays through Saturdays, 7 p.m. Sundays. Ends June 17. $15. (323) 960-7789. Running time: 2 hours.

Confusion clouds state of ‘Missouri’

“Missouri Waltz,” a world premiere by the Blank Theatre Company at the 2nd Stage in Hollywood, is a perplexingly plotted play, written by and starring Karen Black (“Five Easy Pieces”). “Waltz” is, in broad terms, a musical, although the musical numbers, written by Harriet Schock with various collaborators, are largely interstitial, mere blips in the static of Black’s bizarre and undisciplined piece.

Black and Dana Peterson play Chrissie and Bea, dead sisters who haunt the beloved Missouri home where their family has lived for generations. When the sisters’ pregnant niece, Zoe (Whitney Laux), returns to the ancestral homestead, the ghosts combine their spectral forces to help save her inheritance from Bea’s conniving, lecherous husband, Anton (amusingly over-the-top Eric Pierpoint). Meanwhile, Bea’s unrequited admirer Jerry (Weston Blakesley) arrives to help save the day -- and, in the process, to revive his romance with Bea -- no matter that she’s dead and he’s not.

The heartfelt efforts of an able cast and director Angela Garcia Combs fail to smooth the ragged lapses in logic and inconsistencies in tone. Despite its many faults, “Waltz” has some undeniably moving moments during which you just might blink back a tear or two. More often it’s just a mess, an undisciplined blend of feminist diatribe, goofy character comedy and mustache-twirling melodrama that leaves us with the uncomfortable feeling that Black’s marquee value is the reason the play was produced in the first place.

-- F.K.F.

“Missouri Waltz,” 2nd Stage, 6500 Santa Monica Blvd., Hollywood. 8 p.m. Thursdays through Saturdays, 3 p.m. Sundays. Ends July 1. $22 and $28. (323) 661-9827. Running time: 1 hour, 30 minutes.

An antic ‘Dog’ on the loose

“A servant will fall from favor if he proves wiser than his master.” Such logic indicates why “The Dog in the Manger,” Spanish playwright Lope de Vega’s 1613 comedy of forbidden romance between the classes, is a classic.

“The Dog in the Manger” (“El Perro del Hortelano”) is perhaps the most popular play of hundreds by the prolific Lope, whose “Fuente Ovejuna” is the basis for Cornerstone’s current “Los Illegals.”

“Dog’s” title metaphor, drawn from Aesop, suits contradictory Countess Diana (producer Carmen Molinari), who rejects all suitors

He was pursuing lady-in-waiting Marcela (Yvonne Fisher), but he’d gladly marry nobility. Except, of course, he’s a menial. Desire and station henceforth duke it out, right up to the faux-happy ending.

This co-presentation by the MET Theatre’s La Comuna unit and the Ricardo Montalban Repertory Theatre Company enjoys David Johnston’s admirable Royal Shakespeare Company translation, and director Tiger Reel’s players merge formal poise with modern lunacy.

Molinari and Blendell, though atypically cast as Diana and Teodoro, have impressive technical clarity. Fisher’s fearless Marcela suggests Teri Hatcher’s gonzo sister, while Mike Mahaffey is a find as Teodoro’s antic lackey. A.J. Diamond and Stephen Nolly as Diana’s outre swains are other standouts amid a proficient cast.

Yet despite their valiant efforts, this transplanted staging feels swamped and under-appointed. Set designer Bo Crowell’s hanging screens are skimpily collegiate, and Alayna Falco’s kicky costumes and Lloyd Reese’s pungent lighting can’t fill the void. A venerable venue, the sizable Montalban renders the ardor arduous and the anarchy academic.

Scholars may appreciate “Dog in the Manger,” but it’s a puppy in a barn.

-- David C. Nichols

“The Dog in the Manger,” Ricardo Montalban Theatre, 1615 N. Vine St., Hollywood. 8 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays, 2 and 8 p.m. Sundays. Ends June 10. $25 to $34. (800) 595-4849 or www.tix.com. Running time: 2 hours, 40 minutes.