By Sarika Chawla

Mother on Fire

24th Street Theatre
1117 W. 24th St., L.A.
Through April 9
Saturday 8 p.m., Sunday 3 p.m.
Tickets: $25
(800) 838-3006
www.24thStreet.org

Sandra Tsing Loh, star of her one-woman show Mother on Fire, has made a reputation for herself as being a voice of reason -- after all, a physics degree from CalTech and a career as a social commentator will do that. As a writer and public radio personality, Loh has been established in the liberal grain as a rather personable individual, but it's her physical presence onstage that lands her in the category of a real class act.

Critically acclaimed for her previous shows like Aliens in America and Sugar Plum Fairy, Loh's caustic social commentary usually comes from an autobiographical perspective, and Mother on Fire doesn't fail. In this production, the competitive world of children's education is a rather daunting topic, even for audience members who don't have children in their near horizon. Loh freely admits that this entire play is based on a topic that isn't shared by the average theatergoer -- after all, parents of young children don't make it to the theater too frequently -- but she manages to draw in her audience with a meaty performance.

We travel with Loh from the plight of overcrowded public schools (she compares the L.A. Unified School District to the fall of Saigon) to claiming status as a "celebrity mom" to gain entrance to an exclusive kindergarten (her notoriety came from dropping the f-bomb on KCRW two years ago), with dire results. When she considers sending her kid to a creationist-based school to save on tuition, everyone in the audience winces along with her. It's practically edge-of-your seat fare, with the ongoing question, "Will she, or won't she get her 5-year-old into a decent kindergarten?"

The thing about Loh is that her physicality is incredibly distinct -- while it's engaging, it can be a lot to swallow in large doses. She's not afraid to look funny: Her eyes widen dramatically, every gesture is wide and swooping, and her voice frequently drops into unexpectedly low pitches, so that the entire performance is just that -- a performance. Even when she goes off book to ad-lib with the audience, the affectation is still there, and it would have been interesting to see her drop into naturalism every now and then. But with her dancer's grace and under the direction of David Schweizer and Bart DeLorenzo, Loh is very much in control of every movement, and her theatricality heightens the ridiculous nature of this kindergarten shuffle in the strange vastness of the Los Angeles education system. Fans will be glad to get a further glimpse into Loh's psyche, and new arrivals will most likely be converts by the end.

Everything in the Garden

The Space
665 N. Heliotrope Dr., Hlywd.
Through April 16
Friday-Saturday 8 p.m., Sunday 7 p.m.
Tickets: $15-20
(323) 319-6130
www.dreamhouseensemble.com

Everything in the Garden is one of Edward Albee's lesser known and less frequently produced plays (note that it was adapted from a play by Giles Cooper), which suggests that it may be a difficult one to get right. Essentially, it's a surreal social satire of the suburban middle class, and this production handles that to a degree, but fails to make a real connection, thereby making this revival almost a moot point.

The year is 1967 and Jenny (Dre Slaman) and Richard (Corey Pepper) are a happily married couple living far beyond their means in Westchester County, N.Y. Neither one of them forgets the irony that if they hadn't chosen this neighborhood, they never would have met the Joneses, much less felt the need to keep up with them. Director Charles Waxberg maintains the period setting, and gives the entire production a sort of Technicolor glow. The set is detailed and bright, the costumes are timely without being stereotypical, and you can almost hear where a laugh track would fit in as the couple bickers and banters nonstop.

The basic problem is that the main characters aren't necessarily likeable as a couple, even though they're being set up as a satire. Slaman rightly portrays Jenny as a relentless social climber, but even in the most casual dialogue she never once lets up on the affected speech. Of course, this can be explained away that Jenny is so entrenched in her façade that it's become her true self, but Slaman never wavers to indicate that this character is a person with actual emotions. Pepper is more appealing, but is rather one-dimensional, as the clueless, hardworking type. David W.R. Inglis pops in an out as Jack, the boozy friend who may have a thing for Jenny, if not for his questionable sexuality. Jack is a part of the action but also acts as a Greek chorus -- this would have been perfectly effective without actually resorting to dimming the lights whenever he addresses the audience.

Everything really begins to go haywire when ultra-Brit Mrs. Toothe (Peggy Lord Chilton) arrives to recruit Jenny to her Manhattan brothel. When thousands of dollars mysteriously show up at the house, Richard slowly realizes the truth of what's going on right under his nose. The two battle it out in a most bizarre fashion -- what cuckolded man would go through with an impromptu neighborhood party immediately after learning this kind of news? But it's during this gathering that we get to the real message of this play: A horde of suburban couples plaster on a pleasant face while spewing out classist and racist sentiments, even though they're all harboring dirty secrets of their own. Meanwhile the couple's teenaged son Roger (Adam Wasser) mostly gee whizzes and gosh gollies in the background, but at times sheds some light on the surrounding hypocrisy with his youthfully innocent perspective.