‘Orestes’: Humor among murderers

When you’re taking a revisionist whack at a Greek tragedy, it doesn’t hurt to bring a sense of humor to the table. That’s something Katharine Noon and her intrepid ensemble at the Ghost Road Company understand, to their audience’s benefit.

The adaptor and director of “Orestes Remembered: The Fury Project,” Noon infuses the tragic rhythms of Aeschylus’ “The Eumenides” with plenty of savage humor and contemporary bite.

Now in its world premiere at the Powerhouse, the play deals with the plight of Orestes, who kills his mother, Clytemnestra, who has murdered her husband, Agamemnon, for sacrificing their daughter Iphigenia. It’s all part of a complicated curse that began when Tantalus fed his son to the gods.

Even though he was following Apollo’s orders, Orestes winds up on trial for his life -- a sort of Olympian “Scooter” Libby proceeding, only in this case, the gods do intervene on Orestes’ behalf.

Preceded by “Elektra-La-La” and “Clyt at Home,” this is the final installment in Ghost Road’s adaptation of “The Oresteia,” scheduled to be mounted in its entirety next year. Like the other plays, “Orestes” was developed by the ensemble in workshops, but Noon’s sure hand is evident in this smooth transition from laboratory to stage.

Maureen Weiss’ witty scenic design -- a box that unfolds to reveal tiny playing areas -- looks a lot like a marionette theater, a double-edged metaphor that reflects the characters’ manipulation by the gods as well as the dwindling fortunes of the House of Atreus. Ronnie Clark is a convincingly anguished Orestes, but Christel Joy Johnson lacks a certain vibrancy as Electra, Orestes’ sister and co-conspirator, while Margaret Bodi, who plays Orestes’ reclusive cousin Hermione, seems simply glum. A drag turn by Brian Weir as Athena is a hoot, but it is cyclonic Cathy Carlton as a boozy, bridge playing Fury with a score to settle who becomes the whirling center of the show’s rage -- and humor.

-- F. Kathleen Foley

“Orestes Remembered: The Fury Project,” Powerhouse Theatre, 3116 2nd Street, Santa Monica. 8:30 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays, 7:30 p.m. Sundays. Ends March 31. $20. (310) 281-8341. www.ghostroad.org. Running time: 1 hour, 30 minutes.

A ‘Henry’ for Bard lovers

If you’re not on seat’s edge as “Henry IV, Part One” reaches its galvanic final battle, it’s the fault of neither company nor playwright. This sprightly Theatre Banshee rendition of Shakespeare’s historical epic apprehends a world of figures with quick dexterity.

Take actor Barry Lynch’s spot-on Falstaff, equal parts Orson Welles and Dick Shawn, who typifies a valiant ensemble. Every padded inch “the veriest varlet that ever chewed with a tooth,” Lynch devours the role. He has a fine foil in Seth Compton’s impetuous Prince Hal, beautifully matched with Andrew Leman’s eloquent King Henry.

Attacking meter with ease defines this cast, especially Matt Foyer’s brilliant Worcester and Josh Thoemke, a dynamic find as Hotspur. Mary O’Sullivan is a daft Bardolph, Fleur Phillips a vital Lady Percy. Dan Harper sharply contrasts Douglas and the Sheriff, David Combs resounds as Blunt, and so goes the invested troupe.

Prudently cutting the Arden edition, director Sean Branney molds his storytelling around set designer Arthur MacBride’s floor maps and a stark throne that upends into tavern bar. Costumer Laura Brody and lighting designer O’Sullivan make resourceful use of austerity, while fight choreographer Brian Danner earns high marks.

Branney’s pace rides at high speed to the occasional detriment of nuance and clarity. This affects exposition and asides that could confuse those unfamiliar with the Bard’s preceding “Richard II.” Yet the quips and quiddities of Falstaff and Mistress Quickly (Josie DeVincenzo) are tickling, the Welsh exchange of Lady Mortimer (Robyn Heller) and Glendower (John McKenna) mesmeric.

Such a tersely intelligent reading should only deepen as the run progresses. “Henry IV” may flirt with the frenetic, but it’s never boring, and devotees should be sated.

-- David C. Nichols

“Henry IV, Part One,” The Banshee, 3435 W. Magnolia Blvd., Burbank. 8 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays, 2 p.m. Sundays. Ends April 15. $18. (818) 846-5323 or www.theatrebanshee.org. Running time: 2 hours, 30 minutes.

A little rewrite here and there

When a writer writes about a writer writing about writing, the going can get a bit tricky. No matter how far removed the writer character is from the writer, the proceedings can seem depressingly self-referential.

It’s not that Richard Martin Hirsch’s new play, “Atonement,” now at Theatre 40, doesn’t cast a wider net. Certainly, National Book Award-winning author Elijah Stone (Michael Oberlander) has other major issues to cope with other than his obsessive preoccupation with his career. There’s his troubled marriage to Laurel (Imelda Corcoran) and his all-consuming affair with Shaina (Meredith Bishop). Then there’s that mysterious older woman, Faye (Susan Morgenstern), who engages Hirsch in philosophical discussions of an uncomfortably challenging ilk. Chiefly, there’s Elijah’s complete rejection of his Jewish heritage, a knee-jerk contempt for all things spiritual that will take an unexpected toll.

The action takes place in Elijah’s mind and flashes back over the course of 12 years. The piece is extremely talky, sometimes mesmerizingly so, a rich intellectual effusion that treats far-flung issues of sin and faith and loss and salvation.

But sometimes, the effusion becomes simply effulgent, especially Elijah’s persistent whining about writer’s block. In this context, Elijah’s comment, “No one wants to hear about a writer who can’t write,” seems unfortunately ironic.

Director Howard Teichman and his able cast plunge into their material with considerable aplomb, although Hirsch’s unvarying verbosity seldom lets them come up for air. That the action transpires in Elijah’s mind doesn’t excuse that all the characters sound roughly alike. And while Hirsch’s first-act plot twist works neatly, his second-act “surprise” seems an unmotivated cheat that takes its toll on the play’s veracity. A challenging but desultory play, “Atonement” needs more tweaking on the path to redemption.

-- F.K.F.

“Atonement,” Theatre 40, 241 Moreno Drive, Beverly Hills. 8 p.m. Mondays-Wednesdays, 8 p.m. Thursday, March 29, 2 p.m. Sundays March 11 and 18. Ends March 29. $20-$22. (310) 364-0535. www.Theatre40.org. Running time: 2 hours.

A toxic take on childhood

The pre-show scene at Rude Guerrilla’s “Mercury Fur” is almost worth the price of admission: You walk into a dim black box, assailed by punk music.

The stage is littered with pizza boxes, dirty diapers, broken chairs, the surrounding walls spray-painted with obscenities.

Sibling party planners Elliott and Darren (Scott Barber and Justin Radford) have an important client coming. Given the state of “Mercury’s” outside world -- rioting, mass suicides, imminent bombing -- it’s almost no surprise to learn the party centerpiece is actually a small boy (Ethan Tryon-Vincent), about to be the star of a snuff film. Ugly stuff, but the brothers need the gig, so they leave the dirtiest work to a street urchin (Peter Hagen) and a cross-dressing lover (Alexander Price).

Ridley, a British playwright and filmmaker, specializes in childhoods protracted by catastrophe: His protagonists are mostly cornered child-men, trying to face adult problems (poverty, death, war) with nursery-sized emotional tools (games, stories). The results usually involve hearts and limbs breaking.

Rude Guerrilla understands that sometimes theater needs to be in very bad, almost toxic, taste to do its job. But its production, the U.S. premiere, does makes missteps. Some of the cast haven’t developed the technical skills to handle Ridley’s stylized language and Jacobean tone, and director Dave Barton’s pacing can get sluggish -- tough when this 2 1/4 -hour show runs without an intermission.

But the production is held together by the company’s commitment to the material, and, above all, a terrific performance by Barber, whose knowing, too human Elliott tracks every moment around him with wary pain.

“Mercury Fur” insists on its darkness but also its theatricality, and this scrappy Orange County group wins points for essaying such difficult material.

-- Charlotte Stoudt

“Mercury Fur,” Rude Guerrilla Theater Company, 202 N. Broadway, Santa Ana. 8 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays, 2:30 p.m. Sundays, 8 p.m. Thursday, March 15. Ends March 17. $10-$18. (714) 547-4688. Running time: 2 hours, 15 minutes.