Caveny’s ‘Love of a Pig’ Resurfaces at Tamarind

Leslie Caveny’s smart little comedy, “Love of a Pig,” has come out of hibernation at the Tamarind Theatre after a healthy 1989 run at Theatre West. With the same director (Bob McCracken) and cast (Caveny, with a bouncy chorus-type ensemble of six and McCracken as the male pig of the title), this portrait of a love-hungry woman swooning over Mr. Wrong has kept its glow.

It’s a portrait that could be illustrated in primary colors by Cathy Guisewite (Wendy Guidery did the rainbow-hued set). Caveny’s Leslie is a young woman always trying to catch up and make sense of things: Struggling as much with her violinist career as with men, running around the stage from her lonely bedroom to pathetic concert rehearsals, trying to explain to us how she could get in so deep with McCracken’s shadowy, cold Joe.

But instead of tweaking Leslie’s dilemma to the dark end of the spectrum, Caveny and McCracken create a world where it’s easy to imagine the dialogue floating above the characters’ head like comic strip bubbles.

This tends to take the edge off the real problem of low female self-esteem, and Leslie’s self-help books and therapy fixes feel dated. But just when it needs it, the hourlong show is refreshened by a zippy pace and Leslie’s funny habit of mentally rewinding scenes to suit her fantasies.

“Love of a Pig,” Tamarind Theatre, 5919 Franklin Ave., Hollywood, Fridays-Saturdays, 10:30 p.m. Ends Nov. 23. $12; (213) 466-1767. Running time: 1 hour.

Hacker Doodles in ‘Bad Thoughts’

“I Must Not Think Bad Thoughts,” the umbrella title for writer-director Michael Hacker’s five one-acts at Theatre/Theater, suggests the inner frettings of a child. In fact, four of the five come and go quickly enough to match a child’s short attention span. But just as in his fine full-length play, “Long Time Coming,” Hacker’s universe is riddled with very adult frettings and losses and disappointments.

For all that, the evening virtually evaporates the minute it’s over. While “Long Time Coming” was a completed canvas, these are doodles or pencil sketches for something more. “Golfers,” for instance, has Cal Bartlett and Paul Jenkins gabbing away about this and that after a day on the links. The deepest it goes is Bartlett musing from a place of middle-aged Angst , “What happened to us?”

The question lacks resonance, because we never know where these men came from. Just like the two roommates (Pamela Gordon and Alexandra Johnson) sparring in a self-service laundry in “Phyllis Wild & Diane Good.” Johnson’s spinsterish Diane wants to move in with a man, and Gordon’s high-strung Phyllis tries to talk her out of it. But it’s a feeble argument, and there’s less pain in the final moment than there should be.

“Yellowstone” clocks in at about two minutes, which is about right for a one-joke piece about a guy waiting for Old Faithful to blow. (Part of the joke is Robert W. Zentis’ elaborate miniature design, which took much, much longer than two minutes to build.) Just a bit longer is the closing monologue, “Picture,” an enigmatic, extremely private piece spoken by Jenkins nervously holding a cigar box that could be Pandora’s own.

In between is “Paint Job,” an incomplete fable of modest corporate rebellion. As an assembly worker in a paint plant who dares to mix a drop of “Morning White” into a vat of “Arapaho White,” just to see if it would be detected, Johnson acts as if in a fog. Because Hacker doesn’t establish a firm tone, it’s awfully hard to tell if Johnson’s haziness is or isn’t by design--a real problem, since it’s her story.

“I Must Not Think Bad Thoughts,” Theatre/Theater, 1713 N. Cahuenga Blvd., Hollywood, Saturdays, 8 and 10 p.m.; Sundays, 7 p.m. Ends Nov. 24. $12; (213) 464-8938. Running time: 1 hour, 30 minutes.

Muddled ‘Motocar’ From David Pownall

David Pownall can write great plays, like “Master Class,” and he can write muddles, like “Motocar.” Joseph Marcell’s Burbage Theatre production tends to add to the muddle.

Set on the eve of the liberation of old Rhodesia and the beginning of black rule for new Zimbabwe, Pownall’s curious byproduct of militant British playwriting depicts the country as a mental hospital, with the black patients taking over the asylum--the metaphorical conceit is that literal.

Motocar (Hubert Baron Kelly, whose performance becomes about as operatic as a small theater will allow), a political prisoner sent to the madhouse, gradually assumes a magical power over a nasty government agent (David Paul Needles, not nasty enough) and a medical staff (Bairbre Dowling, Pamela Macintosh and a terminally stiff Tom Belgrey, understudying Thomas Prisco). Yet there’s no magical force coming from the stage, which undermines Pownall’s intention to depict revolution as something transcending mere political arrangements.

“Motocar,” Burbage Theatre, 2330 Sawtelle Blvd., West Los Angeles, Thursdays, 8:30 p.m.; Fridays-Saturdays, 7:30 p.m. Ends Dec. 14. $15; (213) 478-0897. Running time: 1 hour, 30 minutes.

‘Milly the Mermaid’ Misses Targets

You have to like writer-actor Eugene Pack’s vitriolic attitude to Hollywood as manifested in his first play, “Milly the Mermaid,” at Theatre 40. You also hope he can find time to write some more drafts, and find a new director.

The one he has now, Maria O’Brien, doesn’t know how to orchestrate the black comedy’s increasing frenzy as Reena (Angelina Brunneau), star of the cult TV show “Milly the Mermaid,” returns to Hollywood after two years in the slammer for punching out a cop. (That is only the start of Pack’s far-fetched plot.)

The frenzy should go ballistic, as Reena gets nudged, then terrorized, into doing a Milly Christmas special. Despite Pack’s acutely nebbishy performance as Milly’s manager and some equally acute lines (Reena: “I’m too young for a comeback!”), the action just sits there, with too many comic swings by a caricature-happy cast missing their targets. Brunneau wearies in her task, showing how hard it is to play a character-as-punching bag.

“Millie the Mermaid,” Theatre 40, 241 Moreno Drive, Beverly Hills High School, Mondays-Wednesdays, 8 p.m. Ends Nov. 20. $10; (213) 466-1767. Running time: 1 hour, 50 minutes.