Remaining Performances:
Thursday, July 24 @ 6:30 PM
Friday, July 25 @ 7:00 PM
Saturday, July 26 @ 2:00 PM

They say: “If the ancient Greek playwright Aeschylus had gone on tour with Led Zeppelin, Woody Guthrie and a carnie troup, this is what he would have written. A tale of blood, guts and vengeance, Aeschylus’s Oresteia, re-charged. Rowdy, raucous, loud and literate: Dizzy Miss Lizzie’s Roadside Revue presents The Oresteia.”

Trey’s take: Pretty much as advertised: Mostly raucous, intermittently musical, almost always fun. (And I’m on record as believing that brand-new Oresteia adaptations aren’t strictly necessary, so from me, “fun” is saying something.)

I had my doubts, too: Could the Revue crew really get through all three of the House of Atreus plays in the advertised 70 minutes? Turns out I’d underestimated the summarizing power of, for instance, the tart shorthand with which a vengeful Elektra, plotting the death of her marricide mother Clytaemnestra, sums up her thoughts about the long-banished brother she hopes will return to deliver the vengeful blow: “I hope he’s not a pussy.”

Also efficient: The stained-glass bluegrass choral number in which Elektra and her fundamentalist libation bearers pray piously for “the death of that vile whore.”

For what’s essentially a fast-moving, one-wiseass-after-another lark, the adaptation spends perhaps too much time trying to get inside its characters’ heads — to explain Orestes’ biddable nature, for instance. But there’s juggling, a certain amount of hand-walking, and just when you think it couldn’t get much more vaudeville, on strolls an accordionista — in a tutu, unless I misremember.

Audience participation is encouraged, which last week inspired the peanut gallery to contribute the observation that Helen of Troy was an “unfaithful bitch,” and the inevitable postmodern irony raises its head when Clytaemnestra, strapped lusciously into a velvet-patchwork bustier, heaves a put-upon sigh: “All the men in my life turn out to be such disappointments.

See it if: Mention of the vengeful Furies and the cultural norms they enforce always made you want to write a driving punk anthem revolving chiefly around the lyrics “Don’t be an asshole.”

Skip it if: You think the classics shouldn’t be performed unless they’ve been properly embalmed; the rousing Up With People homage in which the goddess Diana Athena restores harmony and invents the civil justice system might just send you over the edge.

7 (x1) Samurai
David Gaines
Mr. Gaines may hawk his show as “An Epic Tale…told by an idiot,” but during the 7 minutes I witnessed last night, it became uproariously clear that this man is no idiot. Dressed as part street-pantomime part Japanese warrior, Gaines was riveting as he moved seamlessly among his manifold nonspeaking characters. This is serious, sidesplitting, mesmerizing stuff, and to see one man sustain it for 45 minutes is a feat I refuse to miss.

Slave Narratives Revisited
Mosaic Theatre Productions
Talk about a powerhouse: Lary Moten, in two tantalizingly short monologues, had everyone in RFD’s back room transfixed last night. He transformed that space twice in 5 minutes: first into an antebellum southern crossroads, and then into a Montgomery bus in 1956. There were some truly sublime (and deeply funny) moments, and if this is what 5 minutes in a bar feels like, well then I can’t wait to see the real thing.

Check out a few more suggestions after the jump.

Ball & Chain
Journeymen Theater Ensemble
Ball & Chain is a collection of seven short riffs on love and marriage. The Journeymen teased a piece called “Love in the Time of GPS,” a witty flirtation between a man and his green-eyed Global Positioning System. Although each of the seven shorts is written by a different local playwright, if “GPS” is any indication of the quality of humor, Ball & Chain should induce quite a few chuckles.

Dizzy Miss Lizzie’s Roadside Revue Presents: The Oresteia
Spooky Action Theater
I have to admit, I’m usually skeptical of modern takes on the classics. Not so with Dizzy Miss Lizzie’s Oresteia after what I saw last night. This show is sure to be a veritable volkstragedy, weaving Aeschylus’ tale of revenge with a bluegrass sensibility. Plus the tune they played was catchy, precisely rehearsed, and contained the words “vile whore” in the chorus.

I Like Nuts! (The Musical)
I Like Nuts! (The Company)
You know, after seeing only one number, I can’t really tell you what I Like Nuts! (The Musical) is going to be “about,” per se. But I can tell you that it was brazenly irreverent, overtly silly, and that I laughed my ass off. When the woman sitting next to you can’t stop herself from spontaneously singing along to “I like nuts! I like nuts in my mouth!”–well, that’s when you know you’re watching something special.