‘Little Fish’ catches big ideas

One of the more predictable -- and dubious -- elements of the musical genre is the “I Want” song, when the protagonist gives us a soulful glimpse of his or her emotional engine.

But what happens when a musical revolves around someone who has no clue what she wants? That’s the premise of Michael John LaChiusa’s “Little Fish,” a jittery, engagingly off-kilter chamber piece, now receiving a jaunty West Coast premiere at the Blank Theatre Company’s 2nd Stage.

“I never knew what I was really like until I stopped smoking,” says mousy Manhattan writer Charlotte (the appealing Alice Ripley), and “Fish” follows the first six months after she takes her last puff. As anyone who’s tried to kick an addiction could predict, Charlotte’s in for a tough stretch.

When not recalling disparaging remarks by her ex-boyfriend (Roberti Torti), she’s stuck with a wacko roommate (Samantha Shelton), and friends who are either brittle perfectionists (the sleek Dina Morishita) or in abusive relationships themselves (a charming Chad Kimball).

Even for a story of confusion, “Fish” is a little too discombobulated. But the production has a nimble, assured vibe, due to crisp direction by Kirsten Sanderson and LaChiusa’s music, which insistently scores the gap between the momentum of New York and Charlotte’s failure to keep up.

Choreographer Jane Lanier knows how to take a tiny space and make it feel dynamic and textured instead of cramped: It’s a kick to see Ripley and cast groove their way through scenes at the YMCA pool and a salsa club.

“Fish” doesn’t entirely satisfy, but it’s willing to ask what we are without our crutches. That beats a Broadway power ballad any day.

-- Charlotte Stoudt

“Little Fish,” 2nd Stage Theatre, 6500 Santa Monica Blvd., Hollywood. 8 p.m. Thursdays through Saturdays, 2 p.m. Sundays. Ends Nov 18. $32-$38. (323) 661-9827 or www.TheBlank.com. Running time: 1 hour, 30 minutes.

-- ‘Chicago Eight’ back in court

It’s easy to see why Ron Sossi and Frank Condon decided the time was ripe for a reprise of their documentary drama, “The Chicago Conspiracy Trial.” First produced in 1979, the play is a word-for-word sampling from transcripts of the 1969 trial in which the U.S. government prosecuted the “Chicago Eight” for inciting riots at the 1968 Democratic Convention. The proceedings sparked bitter controversy among a divided American public.

The current production at the Odyssey, directed by Condon and produced by Sossi, is strikingly timely, revolving around an unpopular war and the erosion of Constitutional prerogatives by a wartime government. As a piece of pure theater, however, it is somewhat laborious.

Give Condon points for ambience. Protesters in hippie attire and Black Panther uniforms pace outside this wood-paneled “courtroom” -- Adam Blumenthal’s well-realized set -- strumming on guitars and singing antiwar songs of the period. As you enter, U.S. Marshals perform random frisks before allowing you to take your seat.

The accused include the waggish Abby Hoffman (Andy Hirsch) and Jerry Rubin (David Mauer), co-founders of the Yippie movement; David Dellinger (Rod Britt), the eloquent elder statesman of the group; and Bobby Seale (Darius Ever Truly), the sole African American defendant, whose repeated courtroom outbursts result in his being bound and shackled. With gavel flying, Judge Julius Hoffman (George Murdock, reprising the role he originated) persistently overrules the outraged objections of defense attorney William Kuntsler (Kent Minault) and his team.

Judge Hoffman’s pro-government bias is outrageously evident, but those expecting “Conspiracy” to be a purely liberal screed may be surprised. The unfortunate stridency, sanctimony and sheer self-righteousness that characterized the left during the ‘60s is glaringly obvious in retrospect.

But if the defendants are irritatingly smug, they are also passionate and articulate. Highly educated and devoted to their cause, they helped correct the course of a government blindly careening in the wrong direction. The absence of their like today, in our dumbed down political climate, is keenly felt.

-- F. Kathleen Foley

“The Chicago Conspiracy Trial,” Odyssey, 2055 S. Sepulveda Blvd., Los Angeles. 8 p.m. Wednesdays-Saturdays, 2 p.m. Sundays. Call for exceptions. Ends Dec. 16. $25-$30. (310) 477-2055. www.odysseytheatre.com. Running time: 2 hours, 40 minutes.

-- Old and young relationships

The setup seems so rom-com: A guy hires a female pet therapist to take a look at his misbehaving cat and is so attracted to her that, on the spot, he asks her out.

Breezy romance isn’t what’s destined to follow, however, in “Anon.” Instead, playwright Kate Robin rolls up her sleeves and determinedly sifts through the garbage that befouls people’s relationships and generally messes up their lives. Introduced this year by New York’s Atlantic Theater Company, the play proves illuminating, if disturbing, in its West Coast premiere by the Echo Theater Company.

The cat owner, Trip (Blayne Weaver), is affluent and affable; the therapist, Allison (Kit Pongetti), is spirited and disarmingly plain-spoken. Their involvement seems to progress with dizzying speed, but then, they’re entering their mid-30s, as yet un-partnered. Perhaps for this reason, warning signs go unheeded.

Barely has this relationship begun when theatergoers are thrust into the lives of a couple roughly two decades older: Rachelle (Alison Martin), who sits weeping at her kitchen table, and Bert (Larry Joshua). What warning signs did they breeze past?

Updates on each couple are provided in alternating scenes. In between, a different woman appears each time to describe, with wrenching honesty, an incident that forever altered her perception of herself and those she loves.

Director Chris Fields and his actors tease dark humor out of the writing and unhesitatingly depict the story’s raw reality, including sex acts, one of which is simulated in full view. (Did we mention that Robin was a writer-producer for HBO’s “Six Feet Under”?)

This is visceral theater. For those who can sit through it, the reward is a provocative discourse on the connection between individual behavior and global dysfunction.

-- Daryl H. Miller

“Anon.” Echo Theater Company at Stage 52, 5299 W. Washington Blvd., L.A. 8 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays, 7 p.m. Sundays. Ends Nov. 11. $20. (800) 413-8669 or www.echotheatercompany.com. Running time: 2 hours, 30 minutes.

-- Surreal logic to have fun with

A hero’s journey gets a sly postmodern spin in “Carnivale of the Unassuming” at Casa 0101. This charming inaugural attraction by Tongue in Chic*ana is slight, bright and subversive in its pursuit of meaningful frolic.

Developed and written by Ramona P. Gonzales, Selene Santiago and Michelle Zamora, “Carnivale” uses the touring carpa (tent) shows of Mexico as a focal point for a resourceful grab-bag approach. Juggling dance, commedia, Cocteau, puppetry and silent film, the fun starts with a self-contained pre-show (written and directed by Alejandra Cisneros).

Here, the wonderful George Paez as Jacob the Clown courts Stephanie Chavez’s piquant Miss Francine Lovelyday with equal parts Chaplin and Cantinflas, hilarious in his inability to follow Anthony Aguilar’s frustrated cue-card wielder. This precedes the saga of Viola (Zamora), a marriageable young woman of an earlier era, wound up as tight as the instrument her name suggests. Wandering into the realm of carnival ringleader Baron von Scabbington (Luke Lizalde), inchoate Viola comes up against her deepest, darkest fears, which lead to an empowering, freak flag-flying denouement.

Directed by Santiago with calm assurance, this heroine’s trek is graced with surreal logic and winking intelligence. The communal design scheme is flavorful, especially Maggie Guillen’s inventive costumes and the uncredited lighting. The cast could hardly be more appealing.

Although the scenario is decidedly feminist, there’s plenty of non-gender-specific point on tap, rendered with a tasty blend of sobriety and frivolity. “Carnivale” isn’t particularly groundbreaking or bravura, just delightfully unassuming. Families should flock.

-- David C. Nichols

“Carnivale of the Unassuming,” Casa 0101, 2009 E. 1st St., L.A. 8 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays, 3 p.m. Sundays. (323) 263-7684 or www.casa0101.org. $15-$20. Running time: 1 hour.

-- Flirting with disaster online

It’s not exactly news that the Internet can be a dangerous place filled with impostors, but that doesn’t prevent playwright Carlos Murillo -- who has apparently just discovered instant messaging and MySpace -- from providing the scoop. His cautionary drama “dark play or stories for boys” embraces its online milieu with the enthusiasm of a neophyte. The play’s big revelation: “On the World Wide Web, you can be anything!”

Geeky high school outcast Nick (Stewart W. Calhoun) utters those words as he plots to wreak havoc on the life of Adam (Adam Haas Hunter), a jock and the object of Nick’s unrequited affection. Posing online as “Rachel,” Nick engages Adam in a series of Internet chats, gradually maneuvering the gullible teen into his malevolent clutches. Nick is a kind of cyber Tom Ripley, a disturbed young man who becomes increasingly incapable of distinguishing his fabricated identity from the real one. His reptilian mind kicks into bloodthirsty gear when Adam demands that they take their relationship into the tangible world.

The production evokes the universe of online chat rooms with a dull literal-mindedness. Actors recite their lines facing the audience as onstage monitors flicker and a soundtrack of AIM-ish bloops remind us that what we’re seeing takes place in cyberspace.

Top-heavy with narration, the play generates little suspense as Nick over-explicates his master plan with smug satisfaction. Murillo’s dialogue can be amusing, especially when imitating dumb teen-speak, but the playwright has a tin ear for translating the online world into an engaging theatrical vernacular. For all of its techno-savvy pretense, his play feels woefully behind the curve.

-- David Ng

“dark play or stories for boys,” The Theatre @ Boston Court, 70 N. Mentor Ave., Pasadena. 8 p.m., Thursdays through Saturdays, 2 p.m. Sundays. Ends Nov. 18. (626) 683-6883 or www.bostoncourt.com. Running time: 1 hour, 40 minutes.