Friday night must be Hillcrest; and Saturday, downtown.
Friday’s offering was Craig Wright’s “Orange Flower Water,” a brief play purportedly about divorce and its effects on children, but in truth a play about the libido, especially as it pertains to married couples who feel unfulfilled and thus stray, circa 15 years or so into the commitment.
Wright’s play doesn’t offer anything new. In fact, it literally creaks along until halfway through, making one wish for a back row seat and thus an inconspicuous exit.
Divorce is uncomfortable; the aftermath, unbearable in this 80-minute play because the men are penis-driven boors and the women, helpless pawns in the inevitable accusations of “selfishness” and the futility once the new wears off the new partner and one is stuck again. It doesn’t help that both play and program notes are moralistic and accusatory, especially to those squirming in the catbird seat.
The playwright injects a titillating through gratuitous sex scene and an attempted rape, husband on wife; in exchange for those dubious pleasures one endures two poorly timed scenes at kids’ soccer games, one between the guys and one, the women.
The performers are quite good ” Jennifer Lee Vernon as the wronged wife; Sean C. Vernon as the straying husband; Teresa Beckwith as the other woman; and William Parker Shore as Beckwith’s brutish husband. All have promise. They make Wright’s script better than it is, due in part to Jerry Pilato’s direction.
“Orange Flower Water” continues at 8 p.m. Thursdays and Fridays; 4 and 8 p.m. Saturdays; and 2 p.m. Sundays through April 6 at 6th @ Penn Theatre, 3704 6th Ave., Hillcrest. For tickets and information, visit www.sixthatpenn.com or call (619) 688-9210.

Slightly beyond Gaslamp: Looking for the 19th century in the 21st
Sledgehammer Theatre’s Scott Feldsher has brought to town his old pal Josh Chambers, his musical scoring and his updated adaptation of August Strindberg’s 1889 tragedy, “Miss Julie.” For the theatergoer without glaucoma, it’s a great night of having banks of lights shone into the audience. Those with glaucoma have no place to hide. Obviously, this is theater aimed at the young.
Chambers sets Strindberg’s work in Southern California circa 2008 and distills the action in a series of scenes underscored by his own often brilliant score, fraught with verbal interjections and electronic exclamation points that punctuate scene ends and beginnings ” John Eckert’s lights full up in the kisser, or blessed blackout.
Despite the striving, it is not possible to divorce the basic tale from its late 19th century sensibility. Miss Julie (Claire Smith), daughter of a wealthy count, seduces John, her father’s factotum (William Popp), much to the disapproval of Kristine (Charlotte DiGregorio), his fiancée and the household cook.
Blessed with an excellent singing voice, DiGregorio adds much to the musical proceedings. Symbolically, she plays a pig. As played by Popp, a physically imposing guy (love the bare chest), John is a manipulative sort, self-educated and opportunistic. He sees his seduction by Miss Julie as the chance to do what he’s always wanted to do, open and run a small hotel.
John seeks to dump the young heiress once he discovers a) apparently, she has no ready cash; and b) she is truly wacko, influenced by a mother who raised her to act like a man and an unseen surviving parent who wields power over them all. John plays upon Julie’s insecurity, giving her the means to end her unhappy life.
Throughout Chambers’ adaptation she is questioned, presumably by an unseen psychiatrist (analysis was in its infancy at the time, thanks to a guy named Freud).
Ken MacKenzie’s set and Leah Piehl’s costume design are endlessly fascinating. If the purpose of moving the action to the present day is intended to put the observer in mind of a certain celebrity heiress, it works, but Strindberg concerns himself with women’s proper place and the power struggle between the classes.
Importing Chambers’ work allows Sledge to reinstate its reputation for edgy theater. Hopefully, young people will flock to “Miss Julie,” then question the story’s origins, and question how ” other than the celebrity heiress ” it pertains to current lives and times. Perhaps they’ll have better luck than the critic.
“Miss Julie” continues at 8 p.m. Thursdays through Saturdays, at 7 p.m. Sundays, and at 2 p.m. Sunday, April 27 (the final performance), at Tenth Avenue Theatre, 930 10th Ave.
For tickets and information, visit www.sandiegoperforms.com www.sledgehammer.org or call (619) 544-1484.