‘Sonata’ finds its way to harmony

Paul Mazursky and Michael Elias are preceded by their reputations in “The Catskill Sonata,” now in its world premiere at the Hayworth. Mazursky is arguably best known for directing such offbeat comedies as “Moscow on the Hudson” and “Down and Out in Beverly Hills,” whereas Elias co-wrote such goofy films as “The Jerk” before segueing into half-hour television comedy.

In this instance, it’s best to put your preconceptions aside. Elias’ play, staged by Mazursky in his first theatrical foray in 40 years, is no rollicking Borscht Belt retrospective but a surprisingly poignant period piece with a very serious purpose.

Set in the late 1950s, the action takes place on the patio of Rosen’s Mountainview Hotel -- a halcyon setting lovingly evoked by set and lighting designers Desma Murphy and J. Kent Inasy, respectively. Hotel owner Anne Rosen (Lisa Robins) routinely invites a select crew of artists for a free weekend before the start of her busy season. But it’s the height of the McCarthy scare, and Rosen’s reputation as a haven for communists is keeping the regulars away in droves.

Not Dave Vaughn (Kip Gilman), a hard-drinking television writer who seems largely untouched by the chaos surrounding him. But scratch Dave’s mordantly witty facade and you’ll find recent, raw loss -- the kind of personal catastrophe that makes his apparent blitheness all the more heroic.

Dave whiles away his time interacting with the hotel’s staff and guest, including his old lover Rae (Lisa Chess), a blacklisted concert pianist, and teenage busboy Irwin Shukovsky (Daryl Sabara), an aspiring writer who embraces the prickly Dave as a role model, with painful results.

Mazursky’s staging gets off to a slow start. Indeed, the play’s opening scenes are so muted they make us wonder if we’re wasting our time.

In this case, a little patience pays off. After the initial lull, Mazursky raises the stakes in intensity and purpose all the way to a shattering denouement. Masterly in his offhandedness, Gilman heads an exceptional cast in Elias’ amusing, unexpectedly wrenching play. Dave’s advice to young Irwin on what it takes to be a writer is hilarious, one of the most cogent analyses of the writerly art ever to be articulated on the stage.

-- F. Kathleen Foley

“The Catskill Sonata,” Hayworth Theatre, 2509 Wilshire, Los Angeles. 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays. Some exceptions. Ends April 14. $20. (800) 838-3006. brownpapertickets.com. Running time: 1 hour, 30 minutes.

*

Wilder’s ‘Skin’: seriously silly

In these apparently apocalyptic times, with berserk terrorists, bird flu and global warming ready to turn us into mincemeat, it’s reassuring to encounter Thornton Wilder’s “The Skin of Our Teeth.” Not that its message is comforting. The play confirms that humanity’s survival has always been touch-and-go. But end-of-the-world anxiety loves company, and Wilder has a way of delivering the darkest of truths with a jaunty avuncular touch.

Divided into three playful acts, the drama centers on a suburban New Jersey family that’s forced to muddle through an ice age, biblical flood and annihilating war. The fun -- yes, “Skin” can actually be quite a gas -- combines “Flintstones”-like anachronisms with Pirandello-inspired theatrical games.

The Actors Co-op revival, now at the Crossley Terrace Theatre, tries to out-madcap Wilder by occasionally erupting into pop musical numbers and embellishing the scripted asides with giddy improvisation. But the company, under the direction of Jon Lawrence Rivera, seems all too aware that it’s dealing with An Important Classic.

The songs (including such stick-in-your-brain hits as “9 to 5” and “You Light Up My Life”) are performed with an inhibited gaiety, as though no one really trusts the imported joke. And the presiding spirit of anarchy doesn’t go far enough -- the actors make gestures toward freedom but cling to the safety of their squarely interpreted roles.

A desire for adequacy hems in the spontaneity needed to reanimate Wilder’s vision. But given the unappealing stage design (the set is littered with sheets of ice that look like giant cellophane steaks), it’s impressive how much of the play’s serious silliness still manages to come through.

For those wanting to experience the more comically adventurous side of the man who gave us “Our Town,” this is an opportunity to catch an epic whose formidable cast size (whittled here to 11) makes it a rarity in our bite-size-loving repertory.

-- Charles McNulty

“Skin of Our Teeth,” Crossley Terrace Theatre, 1760 N. Gower St., Hollywood. 8 p.m. Friday and Saturdays, 2:30 p.m. Sundays. $30. (323) 462-8460. Running time: 2 hours

*

Saying a long goodbye to life

Sam Shepard’s “Seduced,” written in the ‘70s and now in a rare revival at Circus Theatricals, is less of play than a surreality show.

We -- and a couple of starlets flown in for the occasion -- spend a little mixed quality time with Henry Hackamore (Neil Vipond), a reclusive old tycoon with more than a passing resemblance to Howard Hughes.

Aided by manservant Raul (Patrick Vest), Hackamore has walled himself in from the world, holding kangaroo court from his recliner in an airless dark room. Disheveled and down to his underwear, he’s terrified of germs, sunlight, and his own mortality. To take the edge off, he invites old flame Luna, a full-throated siren (elegantly played by Francesca Ferrara), and Miami (Emily James), a Minnie Mouse blond with a permanent moue, to drop in for a visit. Hackamore wants their stories, their flesh, their pure feminine force. But of course, all they end up doing is reminding him he’s going to die.

Shepard doesn’t take full advantage of his set-up, although director Elise Robertson nicely fills in some of the blanks. But “Seduced” is really a showcase for veteran actor Vipond. He burrows into every nook and cranny of Hackamore’s longing, paranoia and wit, and it’s his terrifically grounded performance that transforms Shepard’s free-form character sketch into a flesh-and-bone story of a man saying goodbye to life, a ferocious mistress he loved not wisely but too well.

-- Charlotte Stoudt

“Seduced,” Circus Theatricals Studio Theatre at the Hayworth, 2511 Wilshire Blvd., Los Angeles. 7 p.m. Sundays. Ends April 15. $20. (323) 960-1054 or www.circustheatricals.com. Running time: 1 hour, 45 minutes.

*

A distant ‘Gilgamesh’

In Iraq, a powerful leader leads a preemptive strike against a supposed enemy, he drags a coalition of the willing into the fray, and the results are disastrous all around. Sound familiar?

The epic of “Gilgamesh,” now being staged by the Theatre @ Boston Court, takes place around 3000 BC, a collection of ancient tales dealing with the fundamentals: justice, pride, mortality.

This show, sourced from Stephen Mitchell’s verse translation, certainly looks gorgeous. Melissa Ficociello’s two-tiered rampart set glows as if the sun had warmed it for centuries, thanks to Jeremy Pivnick’s lighting design.

Alex Jaeger’s opulently draped costumes complement the lyrical style of Stephen Sachs’ adaptation. And Sachs, directing with Jessica Kubzansky, composes a dazzling series of stage pictures using minimal elements: a long table, a muslin curtain, a few rough-hewn poles.

But all of this stagecraft doesn’t really bring the myth any closer to us.

Despite committed work from the cast, “Gilgamesh” feels declamatory and solemn, as though everyone involved remained a little too respectful of the text to make it their own. The result is something more anthropological than immediate.

-- C.S.

“Gilgamesh,” the Theatre @ Boston Court, 70 N. Mentor Ave., Pasadena. 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays, 2 p.m. Sundays. Ends April 8. $30. (626) 683-6883 or www.bostoncourt.org. Running time: 1 hour, 35 minutes.

*

‘Space’ isn’t sure where it’s headed

“Space Therapy,” writer-director Justin Tanner’s outre study of three couples in marital counseling on a space ship, boasts an ace cast and some jaw-dropping howlers that can’t be printed here. Whether this latest work by the author of “Zombie Attack!” and “Pot Mom” reaches its final frontier is less certain.

Hurtling over designer Gary Guidinger’s amusingly campy set, “Space Therapy” posits bestselling author Bryn Masters (Mary Scheer), the posturing guru of “relationship boot camp” for a schematic mix of the mismatched.

Dan (Jonathan Palmer), a repressed clod, has lost all yen for cat-fancying Helen (Maile Flanagan). Sex-starved Connie (Julie Brown) bemoans how vitriolic Russell (French Stewart) stops cruising men only for procreation. Longtime partners Walter (Tom Fitzpatrick) and Lonny (Ed Martin) merely appear to be the healthiest pair.

In between Bryn’s abusive sessions, these suburban asteroids, tended by replicant Monroe (Guilford Adams), commingle in ways that recall Tanner’s “Wife Swappers.” This is where things stall. Tanner’s skill at scatological invective remains unrivaled, but his narrative orbit feels familiar and half-formed.

The actors, many Tanner veterans, barrel through on comic technique, goaded by Scheer’s hoot-inducing fusion of Marianne Williamson and a bendy straw, grounded by Adams’ deftly underplayed droid. Still, autopilot aspects to staging and text keep the promising premise from blasting off into galactic satire, and the ironic ending is abrupt and unearned.

Tanner fans can relish the chance to see top talents toss off lewd zingers that you won’t get on network TV, yet “Space Therapy” requires refueling to go beyond kitschy extended sketch.

-- David C. Nichols

“Space Therapy,” Zephyr Theatre, 7456 Melrose Ave., West Hollywood. 8 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays, 7 p.m. Sundays. Ends April 15. Adult audiences. $20. (323) 852-9111. Running time: 1 hour, 5 minutes.