Curmudgeonly Norris rents rooms in his dilapidated house to wacky, troubled souls: hypochondriacal simpleton Jabsen, effete mute Porter, gold-hearted addict Tim, and dead-end philosopher the Shaygetz—plus some guy in suspenders everyone calls Boo Radley. They spend most of John C. Davenport's two-hour dramedy sitting around musing about Star Wars, skin cancer, and cookie jars, leaving little room for plot or character development. Davenport attempts to create suspense by introducing an officious city bureaucrat, Elaine, who's bent on determining the legal owner of Norris's house, but it's difficult to care about the potential eviction of such two-dimensional characters. Director Paul Tinley's Rebekah Theatre Project premiere is too stilted to generate much comedy. —Justin Hayford $20
This brave, bleak 2009 drama by the gifted young playwright Leslye Headland (a member of LA's edgy Iama Theatre Company) focuses on the passionate, sexually violent, and ultimately hopeless relationship between a troubled rock songwriter and his muse. The music-biz background is secondary to the pungent story, which could as easily be about Scott and Zelda or Dick and Liz—or my parents—as about Kurt and Courtney or Sid and Nancy. Under Jonathan Berry's emotionally detailed direction, Peter Oyloe and Mary Williamson's haunted portrayals of the combative lovers are balanced against superb supporting performances, notably from Brittany Burch as the songwriter's born-again sister and Ashley Neal as an acerbic Internet journalist. My only reservation is with the production's oddly dated musical referents: The Ronettes' "Be My Baby"? Elmer Bernstein's theme from To Kill a Mockingbird? — Albert Williams $25-$30
Stefanie Zadravec's new play features a magical black man who can teach us all a thing or two about hope. And a magical Rumanian lady with loads of folk wisdom. And a magical baby that glows in the dark like the moon. It's got an average couple whose marriage has been disintegrating since their daughter died. And a potty-mouthed young woman who's her own worst enemy. And it makes fun of hyperjolly restaurants like the one Jennifer Aniston worked in in Office Space. In short, it's a collection of gambits from the Endearing Quirk Playbook. So, why didn't I hate it? Well, one reason is that Zadravec deploys her endearing quirks with a good amount of grace and conviction. Far outweighing that, though, are Tara Mallen's simple, emotionally honest production and its no-bullshit cast. H.B. Ward and Meighan Gerachis, in particular, are painfully (I mean, painfully) good as the average couple. —Tony Adler $30
Steep Theatre Company's U.S.-premiere production of a British dramedy by John Donnelly deftly presents the British school system as an unforgiving farce. Under Jonathan Berry's direction, Jeff Award winner Caroline Neff is fantastic as Zoe, a naive young teacher assigned to babysit four teens the school would rather see pushed through the cracks headfirst. She's supposed to be teaching boundaries, but her own become fuzzy, with both laughable and dangerous results. The prudish title may be the best summation of which worlds collide here: "the knowledge" alternately refers to oral sex, what a teacher imparts to students, and the hundreds of routes a London cabbie must memorize to get certified. Though Britishisms abound, the play's vulnerable characters and thought-provoking power struggles translate well on our side of the pond. —Marissa Oberlander $20-$22