By Sarika Chawla

The Trials and Tribulations of a Trailer Trash Housewife

Zephyr Theatre
7456 Melrose Ave., L.A.
Through June 17
Tuesday-Wednesday 8 p.m.,
Saturday 3 p.m. and 8 p.m.
Tickets: $25-28
(323) 665-TKTS
www.seasonofshores.com

The title may sound campy, but there's not much that can prepare you for the emotional wringer that The Trials and Tribulations of a Trailer Trash Housewife will put you through. Simply put, this play has it all—there are plenty of tears, a little bit of melodrama, and enough laughs to lighten the tension at exactly the right moments.

Written and directed by Del Shores, this play was first staged in 2003 at the Zephyr, where it garnered more than 14 awards, including best production and best playwright. Now, it is the third production of the Zephyr Theatre's revival of Del Shores' entire canon, and so far, it is the best (and it doesn't even star Leslie Jordon). The entire original cast has recreated their roles in what succeeds in being a resonant and haunting story.

The play stars the indomitable Beth Grant as Willadean Winkler, a 30-something housewife whose struggles have taken a toll on her appearance and her spirit. Her husband J.D. (David Steen), her star athlete high school sweetheart, is now an abusive alcoholic.

During the daytime when her husband is at work, Willadean is a warm, humorous protagonist who might remind you of your best friend's mother, if not for an occasional gleam of desperation in her eyes. When Grant banters playfully with her best friend LaSonia (pronounced like the noodle dish), played by a brilliant Octavia Spencer, the surroundings of her shabby, but well-scrubbed, trailer seem to melt away. Their purpose in life is defined by afternoon popcorn and Judge Judy, but there is a genuine sincerity and curiosity that shines through them. But as it nears the time for her husband to come home, tensions really begin to rise. When we watch Grant memorize words from the dictionary and repeat to herself the mantra, “I will not shrivel up and die,” the anxiety sets in and never quite lets go.

The marriage between Willadean and J.D. shriveled up and died long ago, but the depths of their troubles unravel quite slowly. We learn that, not surprisingly, they married at 17 when Willadean became pregnant, forcing both of them to give up their ambitions. Shore's decision to utilize such a traditional back story doesn't feel false here; instead, it comes across as a perfectly common situation that elicits some sympathy for both of them. The sympathy for Steen's character, however, doesn't stick around for very long—we watch him belittle and strong arm his wife, and then seduce their trashy neighbor Rayleen (Dale Dickey). Dickey seems like she was born to star in Shores' Texan plays, and somehow manages to elicit a whole lot of compassion and laughs. Even in the worst of times, the solidarity among women burns bright.

Punctuating the play's emotional crests and valleys is Debby Holiday as the soulful Blues Singer, accompanied by the passionate piano playings of composer/co-lyricist Joe Patrick Ward. The only noticeable flaw is that this play takes its intermission too late, between the second and third act, which draws away from the necessary tension in the final act. The conclusion winds up feeling a little flat only because the audience has invested so much time and focus on the first portion of the play, that it's hard to take a break and then get back into the swing of things with only about 30 minutes remaining.

Little Egypt

Matrix Theatre
7657 Melrose Ave., W. Hlywd.
Through June 11
Thursday-Saturday 8 p.m., Sunday 3 p.m.
Tickets: $30-35
(323) 852-1445

Little Egypt is a love story between two misfits that is portrayed as a caricature (and not just in the musical theater-y kind of way), but winds up feeling quite natural. The most appealing aspect of this play is that its characters are really likeable, so that even though they're drawn unrealistically, we still care about what happens to them. The only major drawback is that we're probably pulled in a little too much into their lives: This production is far too long for what it is, which is a darkly quirky musical, but a nip and a tuck there would result in a cleaner and more compelling story.

Directed by Lisa James, the story takes place in Little Egypt, the area of Southern Illinois where the Wabash, the Ohio, and the Mississippi rivers meet. We meet Celeste (Sarah Rue), a hyperintellectual, anxiety-driven young woman who has just returned home after a long absence in college. There's something rather tragic as we watch her mother Faye (Jenny O'Hara) and sister Bernadette (Misty Cotton) disrobe from their matching Alice-style waitress uniforms. It's clear that for Celeste to have returned home, things must be very dark indeed. Meanwhile, in another part of town, Victor (French Stewart), an eccentric mall security guard, stands firmly on duty alongside his scuzzy best friend Watson (Gregg Henry.)

Though the direction is well paced, the book, by Lynn Siefert, takes a while to click into place. Most of the first act is spent establishing the characters, so that the two would-be lovers don't even meet for quite a long time. The first few songs (written by Gregg Henry) are technically quite nice, but don't end up being anything memorable. However, things start moving along at a much better pace when Rue and Stewart finally meet and fall into an awkward romance, jiving to their newfound love with the catchy tune “I Feel Pretty Good.”

At first glance, it seems like Stewart has been typecast for the spacey personality and twitchy physicality that made him a TV star, but after a while, he starts to exhibit a lot of depth in the character. He's also a surprisingly solid singer, holding his own alongside a talented cast. However, it is Rue who really steals the show—the former character actress recently went super-slender and blond, but she hasn't lost a bit of her spunk. She has a way of stubbornly thrusting her chin out that makes her character appear to be both sweet and willful, and it's impressive to hear the steady flow of overanalyzed observations tumble out of her mouth with ease.

Cotton, the former prom queen, and Henry, the still-is hoodlum, are a white trash wonder as they dive into a hilariously dysfunctional relationship. Not to be left out, the girls' mother gets her own passionate affair with the town's mayor (John Apicella). While it's neverending fun to watch O'Hara boozing it up and getting it on, the focus on this particular relationship is also part of what makes the play stretch on too long. The real draw of this play emerges in the second act, when the caricature disappears and all three sets of lovers enter into a dark phase, where the question arises whether love is strong enough to save someone.