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THEATER BEAT

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Theatrically speaking, Fiesta Hall in West Hollywood’s Plummer Park is an unforgiving space, more auditorium than theater, with spine-numbing folding chairs and glaring lighting fixtures that are a poor substitute for professional-grade equipment.

Put preconceptions about the venue aside, however, and you may well be dazzled by the polished professionalism of “The Aftermath,” the Bare Bones Theatre’s production of “The Trojan Women” and “Agamemnon” in two acts.

Tony-nominated adaptor-director Tony Tanner has spent a lifetime in the theatrical trenches, and the wealth of that experience is evident throughout this crisply executed, well-articulated production. Tanner has tapped several sources, including Euripides and Shakespeare, for his inspiration. The outcome is a cogent, contemporary, thoroughly timely recapitulation that focuses specifically on the ravaging consequences of the Trojan War and its continuing human toll.

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Tanner wisely eases around the physical limitations of the site and concentrates on the piece’s emotional content. Well able to accommodate Tanner in every particular are his crack actors, who get to the true grit of their familiar archetypes with a straightforwardness that is exhilarating. Sara Shearer’s Hecuba is effectively downplayed, so psychically benumbed she is beyond tears. And Anita Adcock’s lawyer-like Athena is both divinity and bloodless functionary, doling out destiny as if she were ticking off appointments on a court calendar.

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F. Kathleen Foley --

“The Aftermath,” Fiesta Hall, 1200 N. Vista St., West Hollywood. 7 p.m. Fridays-Saturdays, 2 p.m. Sundays. Ends May 16. $20. (323) 461-5570. Running time: 2 hours, 15 minutes.

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An accusation and repercussions

The power of “Munched” owes as much to its silences as its assertions, with haunting results. Kim Porter’s account of a grown woman and the mother convicted of abusing her daughter receives a compelling Buzzworks Theater Company staging, propelled by memorable performances from Samantha Sloyan and Andrea Hutchman.

Katie Paxton (Sloyan) was the focus of a media circus 25 years ago, thanks to mom Marybeth (Hutchman). Accused of trying to kill Katie after her two previous infants died, Marybeth may or may not suffer from Munchausen syndrome by proxy. As the narrative examines this estranged pair in split-focus tandem, “Munched” becomes less about guilt or innocence than parent-child profundities, and the climax packs a potent emotional wallop.

Porter’s script occasionally suggests a “Law & Order” teleplay infiltrated by Pirandello in Anna Quindlen guise, yet its theatrical structure, sifting ambiguity, pathos and humor, heralds a distinctive authorial voice. Director Duane Daniels maintains an intimate, confidential tone past fleeting precious aspects. Though his abstract white set dulls the eye, it certainly takes to Derrick McDaniel’s evocative lighting, and his cast is impeccable.

The versatile Shirley Jordan and Peter Breitmayer make mincemeat of their multiple subsidiary roles. But the show belongs to Sloyan and Hutchman, who mine the text for laughter and nuance with superb technique and heart-rending commitment.

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“I challenge anyone in this situation to act like an innocent person,” says Hutchman’s sarcastic Marybeth. Her anguished eyes mirror what lies beneath Sloyan’s bonhomie, typical of the humanity that makes “Munched” such a remarkable achievement.

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David C. Nichols --

“Munched,” El Centro Theatre Chaplin Stage, 804 N. El Centro Ave., Hollywood. 8 p.m. Thursdays through Saturdays. Ends May 30. $25. (323) 960-5771. Running time: 2 hours, 10 minutes.

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Another take on ‘Our Town’

The jury’s still out on “Our Town”: Is it a high school staple for a reason, or a victim of sentimentalists? The new production of Thornton Wilder’s 1937 classic at the Actors’ Gang doesn’t exactly settle that question. Clocking in at nearly three hours, Justin Zsebe’s staging showcases what’s best and worst about both Wilder and the Gang: passion, experiment and the distracting tendency to comment on a scene instead of just playing it.

On a wooden stage with period footlights, Grover’s Corners, N.H., comes to brisk, small-town life. Howie Newsome (Pierre Adeli) delivers the milk, Doc Gibbs (Nathan Kornelis) brings twins into the world, and his son, George (Chris Schultz), falls for Emily (Vanessa Mizzone), the brainy girl next door.

There are affecting, unfussy performances from the cast, including Kornelis as the matter-of-fact Gibbs, Annemette Andersen as his sacrificing wife and Lindsley Allen as Emily’s disappointed mother. Other takes -- like Scott Harris as a shy professor and the town constable -- feel indulgent rather than insightful. I’m all for messing with a masterpiece, but “Town’s” gossamer style can’t sustain twee self-consciousness.

The evening’s strongest moments come at a hillside cemetery in the third act, where Will Pellegrini’s arresting set design beautifully supports Wilder’s lyricism. Emily, caught between the quick and the dead, gives voice to mortality’s deepest ache -- to love life, yet feel its transience.

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Bring tissues.

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Charlotte Stoudt --

“Our Town,” Ivy Substation, 9070 Venice Blvd., Culver City. 8 p.m. Thursdays through Saturdays, 2 p.m. Sundays. Ends May 30. $20-$25. (310) 838-GANG. Running time: 2 hours, 45 minutes.

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Mob mentality seen in ‘Crucible’

Arthur Miller’s “The Crucible” may be a familiar stage classic, but its depiction of hysteria and religious persecution surrounding the Salem witch trials still makes it a gutsy choice for Actors Co-op, the Christian theater company based at Hollywood Presbyterian Church.

The production pulls no punches with the play’s cautions about faith corrupted to justify killing based on unproven accusations of heresy, nor its affirmations of the importance of personal integrity no matter how high the cost. Nevertheless, variable performances among the large ensemble get the first act off to a rocky start, as a group of conniving young girls convince a preacher (Daniel J. Roberts) and other gullible townsfolk that they were victims of witchcraft, making scapegoats of anyone against whom they hold grudges.

Marianne Savell’s staging hits its stride in the more intimate second act encounter between flawed hero John Proctor (Bruce Ladd) and his steadfast wife Elizabeth (Nan McNamara). Quietly embodying the values of honor and humility to which the town’s moral guardians pay only lip service, McNamara effectively reigns in Ladd’s tendency to milk moments with actorly pauses.

The superbly-paced third act is dominated by Eddie Hailey’s implacable Deputy Governor bent on exercising authority even at the cost of innocent lives, and by the harrowing sequence in which Abigail (Nicole Gabriella Scipione) and her accomplices feign demonic possession.

Miller intended the play as an allegorical protest against the McCarthy-era political witch hunts of the 1950s, but there’s nothing dated about the disturbing ease with which normal, rational people can be manipulated into intolerance and suspicion. Abusing power by exploiting fear never goes out of style.

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Philip Brandes --

“The Crucible,” Actors Co-op Crossley Theatre, 1760 N. Gower St., Hollywood. 8 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays, 2:30 p.m. Sundays (also 2:30 p.m. May 9 and 16). Ends June 7. $30. (323) 462-8460. Running time: 3 hours.

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