To call Len Jenkin's comedy surreal is not only to understate the point but also to, in a way, excuse flights of fancy on the part of the playwright as part of a grander scheme rather than chalk it up to something as prosaic as carelessness, laziness, inattention to detail-or, worse yet, a lack of skill at his craft. In the show's West Coast premiere, one can't lay all of the blame at the doorstep of director Glendele Way-Agle or her cast. If anything, the artfulness, bits of inspired lunacy, and witty touches they inject into this hodgepodge of monologues and comedic scenes at least make the evening bearable.
Reading meaning into the show is akin to having a would-be philosopher spew out unrelated ideas, then inform you that you couldn't be very perceptive if you need help connecting the dots. Poetic spots and a few tantalizing ideas surround the show's lengthy middle segment-a spoof of spy movies married to a satire of Grade-Z productions of Bible stories-but the connections are tenuous at best. This production's biggest laughs blossom from the effects of Way-Agle's ensemble working as a team rather than from the efforts of any one actor. Just the same, the staging benefits from Darcy Lythgoe's reading as the main story's plucky, pigtailed little heroine, given to spouting readings of her exaggeratedly bad poetry, and Jason Lythgoe as her kidnapper, a demented plastic surgeon whose favorite patient is himself. Were Jeremy Gable to make the young woman's actor boyfriend a more studied spoof of narcissism, he'd rival the wacko doctor for laughs. Funnier is Gable's turn as the haughty director of a cheese-ball video series funded by a fringe Christian group, and as the mute accompanist for a pair of mediocre 1970s-era lounge lizards (Ellis LaVere Davis, Amber Scott) who, though divorced, can't seem to call it quits when it comes to their joint singing careers.
Then again, that just might be the point Jenkin is trying to make: how desperately we all hang on to love, because we're too, uh, careless with it in the first place. The evening's lone noncomedic tale, starring James Grant and Brey Ann Barrett, makes that point eloquently. Would that Jenkin only took similar care in expounding all of his thematic material.
Presented by and at Hunger Artists Theatre Company, 699-A S. State College Blvd., Fullerton. Fri.-Sat. 8 p.m., Sun. 7 p.m. (Also Mon. 8 p.m. Jun. 26.) Jun. 16-Jul. 9. (714) 680-6803. www.hungerartists.com.