A Bit of Deconstruction in ‘Haunting,’ and ‘Big Bang’

Remember Deconstruction? That bare-bones/tech-happy theater that chews up cultural sound bites and spits them back at you? It was big in early ‘80s New York. And now it’s back--in a small way--in “The Haunting” and “Larry Swell’s Big Bang” at the Los Angeles Theatre Center.

This Butane Group/Ken Roht double bill mixes stylized acting and hyped theatricality a la the Wooster Group, Richard Foreman and other big names of the downtown Manhattan scene, circa a decade ago. Unfortunately, these new kids on the block lack the theatrical chops of those SoHo avant-gardies. The redux are only so-so.

Laural Meade and Noel Salzman’s “The Haunting” distills the essence of the horror flick genre. The look is black, white and super-spare, with an upstage row of chairs and a waist-high cord that runs across the dark downstage playing area. The white-faced ensemble (Laurence Walsh, Jay D. Smith, Jason Duplissea and Tatiana Bliss) vamps its way through seductions, manipulations and quasi-camp hysterics in a sequence of often-striking encounters. After a time, though, the gimmick goes nowhere.

“Larry Swell’s Big Bang” is to the 1950s variety show what “The Haunting” is to horror movies. With a cast of doofish guys and swell gals decked out in plaid and other unnatural colors, this string of song and dance numbers trashes gender roles and other cultural traps. There’s a clever “U.P. Serviceman” bit, with a chorus of geeky fellas in brown polyester high waters, and an equally tongue-in-cheek ditty with women in Astroturf aprons bearing cookies. But much of the parody is about as original as wearing all black.

It takes guts (or a trust fund) to make this kind of theater in a town that doesn’t have New York’s ready-made audience for it. Besides, this attempt shows off some promising minds at work. Still, the problem with a gung-ho gang like this one regurgitating someone else’s revolution is that it makes you wish they’d start one of their own.

* “The Haunting” and “Larry Swell’s Big Bang,” Los Angeles Theatre Center, Room 5C, 514 S. Spring St., Downtown, Fridays-Saturdays, 8 p.m., Sundays, 7 p.m.; Ends May 23. $10. (213) 660-TKTS. Running time: 2 hours, 5 minutes.

Half-Baked Skits Offer No Revelations

Charismatic Michael McCarthy and Greg Holliman are a pleasure to watch onstage. But their “Revelations, Indictments and Confessions: The RIC Show” at the Upfront Comedy Showcase is not.

A miscellaneous collection of half-baked skits on topics ranging from men in space to childhood memories, the show has no particular theme or logic. There’s a minor attempt to make hay out of the duo’s racial difference (one’s white, one’s black), but it never goes beyond the relatively obvious. Given their Second City and “Saturday Night Live” credits, you’d think these agile performers would have a better ear for material.

* “Revelations, Indictments, Confessions: The Ric Show,” Upfront Comedy Showcase, 1452 3rd St. Promenade, Santa Monica, Fridays, 8 p.m.; Runs indefinitely. $8. (310) 319-3477. Running time: 1 hour.

‘Chute’ Lets Good Writing Slip Away

Craig Volk’s “Chute Roosters” at the Complex, on the other hand, doesn’t give a hoot about hip, and that’s its virtue. This meat-and-potatoes cowboy comedy is tautly written and genuinely witty, with a standout performance by Craig Aldrich in the central role. Now, if only the rest of the ensemble were up to snuff.

The action takes place on the fence at a rodeo, by the spot where the bull riders and their Brahma beasties come pounding out of the gate. Two squinty-eyed cowpokes (Aldrich and Dennis LaValle as Earle and Merle, respectively) chew up tobacco and their erstwhile rodeo cronies, while paying half-attention to the riders biting the dust nearby. A few cads pass through and join Earle and Merle on the fence, which sets up the premise for some bitter banter from these failed Marlboro men.

Volk’s writing is so spare, so finely tuned, that it ropes a world of information about each cowboy’s point of view into just a line or two. It’s almost model dialogue writing--sometimes belly-laughable and sometimes serious, with a humor both of language and of character. But the cast lets him down.

Aside from Aldrich, who completely inhabits the skin of his bitter has-been, these other dude ranch rejects let you see where the actor stops and the role begins. LaValle, Preston Simpson and Rodney Hargove have their moments, but Sandra Dombrowski seems to have been cast solely on the basis of the cowboy hat she wears in her head shot.

* “Chute Roosters,” The Complex, 6476 Santa Monica Blvd., Hollywood, Thursdays-Saturdays, 8 p.m., Sundays 7 p.m.; Ends June 13. $12.50. (213) 466-1767. Running time: 1 hour, 30 minutes.

Actors Can’t Save Tiffany’s ‘Angels’

Truman Capote and Oscar Wilde, the protagonists of “Dark Angels,” are about as far from cowboys as you can get. They are, however, together in adjoining chambers in hell in this poorly written but excellently performed duodrama at the Tiffany.

Most of the stage time here is spent in expository dialogue in which the recently arrived Capote (persnickety Emile Hamaty, who does the Capote voice better than the man himself) and longtime resident Wilde (the shrewdly understated Ross Evans) discuss the days of their lives. Save a couple of mini-monologues and a half-baked motif about offstage group sessions, the late Kenneth Girard’s play unfolds almost entirely in the “I did this, I did that” format.

The fault lies not in the stars, but in the text. The play hardly allows these thespians or director Robert W. Foster room for the interpretation of which they’re probably capable. Biographical data, no matter how interesting, doesn’t guarantee good theater. And this work is way too slavish to the facts, anyway.

As an excuse for drama, the famous-people-meet setup is hardly worthy of literary icons, or such stalwart actors. To paraphrase Wilde’s infamous deathbed quip, either this premise goes, or they do.

* “Dark Angels,” Tiffany Theatre, 8532 Sunset Blvd., West Hollywood, Thursdays-Saturdays, 8 p.m., Sundays 2 & 8 p.m.; Ends May 30. $15-$19. (310) 289-2999. Running time: 1 hour, 55 minutes.