Misleading events trip up family

If J.M. Barrie’s best-known work, “Peter Pan,” is the ultimate childhood fantasy, his seldom-produced “Alice Sit-by-the-Fire” is a bedtime story for adults. As the Pacific Resident Theatre’s smart and finely calibrated revival demonstrates, this is a comedy that leaves you feeling warm and snug about parenthood.

Written in 1905 (a year after “Peter Pan”), the play begins as Alice (Alley Mills) returns to London after years of living in colonial India. Her children, having been sent away at an early age, regard her with some suspicion, particularly her drama-queen daughter Amy (Betty Wigell), who decides to adopt a bossy, daughter-knows-best attitude toward her parents.

One evening, Amy spies her mother kissing a gentleman caller (Neil McGowan), not realizing he’s an old family friend. She immediately suspects adultery and decides to corner her mother’s alleged suitor. Her hasty actions draw in her father (Bruce French), whose own misinterpretation of events complicates the story.

“Alice Sit-by-the-Fire” contains numerous plot turns, and director Joe Olivieri doesn’t always succeed at rounding them smoothly. It’s sometimes difficult to tell which character is trying to fool whom and for what reason, especially in the convoluted second act.

The strength of this production lies in the mostly marvelous cast; the actors deepen the play’s lighthearted spirit with a sober pathos. Mills and Wigell give their mother and daughter characters a complexity that grows more profound with each revelation. And the typically excellent Orson Bean brings idiosyncratic dignity to his small role as the narrator.

In the end, the parents manage to outsmart their clever children. Daughter knows best only because mother allows her to think so. The play affirms traditional notions of parental authority but acknowledges that such power is fleeting at best.

-- David Ng

“Alice Sit-by-the-Fire,” Pacific Resident Theatre, 705 1/2 Venice Blvd., Venice. 8 p.m. Thursdays through Saturdays; 3 p.m. Sundays. Ends Feb. 10. $20-$25. (310) 822-8392 or www.pacificresidenttheatre.com. Running time: 2 hours ,10 minutes.

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Wrestling with ‘Two Gentlemen’

Shakespeare’s “The Two Gentlemen of Verona” truly goes to the dogs. Or rather, dog, singular, for a mutt typically proves to be the most sympathetic character in this early comedy in which heinous acts are committed in the name of love.

The Porters of Hellsgate, a year-old classical company, makes a brave attempt at the famously difficult play and, in several important respects, largely succeeds.

The story tends to come across best if the audience accepts that the central characters’ behavior is driven by youthful heedlessness and raging hormones. In Charles Pasternak’s staging, the title’s two gentlemen, Valentine (Pasternak) and Proteus (Thomas Bigley), are so companionable that they are forever careening about with arms thrown around each other’s shoulders. When Proteus becomes smitten with Valentine’s new lady love, however, he abruptly sells out his pal to get him out of the way.

Fortunately, the objects of affection (Amanda Marquardt, Jennifer Bronstein) aren’t merely that. They stand up for themselves and take matters into their own hands. They’re subjected to sexist treatment, particularly at story’s end, but Pasternak and company wryly deflate this with a final gesture of solidarity and perseverance. Maybe, just maybe, the women can keep their Peter Pans in line.

A relocation to Edwardian England is indicated mostly through costuming (by Pasternak’s mother, Jessica). It’s the most visible tweak, but in most respects, it neither helps nor hinders understanding.

The rapid changes of tone are carefully and, for the most part, believably delineated. The problem is Pasternak and his young actors, in their 20s, are only about halfway along the path to internalizing and grounding these characters.

The play puts some particularly clever lines into the mouths of its servant-clowns (Gus Krieger, Jack Leahy), and then there’s the dog, which belongs to one of the clowns and is played here by Max, a beagle mix whose impassive demeanor makes him the funniest -- and most adorable -- straight man imaginable, and the performer most likely to steal the show.

-- Daryl H. Miller

“The Two Gentlemen of Verona,” Whitmore-Lindley Theatre Center, 11006 Magnolia Blvd., North Hollywood. 8 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays; 3:30 p.m. Sundays. Ends Jan. 13. $20. (310) 497-2884. Running time: 2 hours, 5 minutes.