Encore

Los Big Names. From Heather Gold's I Look Like an Egg, But I Identify as a Cookie to Colman Domingo's A Boy and His Soul, the San Francisco theater scene has been awash of late with quirky and well-conceived solo shows by gay artists. Marga Gomez, however, takes the genre to dizzy new heights in Los Big Names, a one-woman production about growing up gay in a Latino showbiz household. From the moment she steps onstage impersonating her vaudeville-comedian father in a tailcoat, boxer shorts, frilly dress shirt, and stick-on mustache to the moment she departs, slinking off into the wings in her showgirl mother's heels and hat, Gomez displays an aptitude for caricature and social satire as virtuosic as a Tito Puente vibraphone break. Whether reminiscing about Queen Latifah's death scene in the Hollywood megaflop Sphere or reliving the time her parents asked her to choose between them, Gomez never lapses into sentimentality. Thanks to David Schweizer's rhythmic direction, Alexander Nichols' evocative lights and set, and intelligent use of sound by Mark O'Brien, Los Big Names is a bold confessional with deep-rooted family spirit. Through Aug. 21 at the Magic Theatre, Fort Mason Center, Building D, Marina & Buchanan, S.F. Tickets are $20-38; call 441-8822 or visit www.magictheatre.org. (Chloe Veltman) Reviewed Aug. 10.

Nicholas Nickleby. California Shakespeare Theater's Nicholas Nickleby, adapted from Charles Dickens' 1838 novel by British playwright David Edgar, manages to wrestle the audience's attention away from rustling picnics and the rising moon through ingeniously theatrical staging and an alacrity of pace that makes you almost forget you've been sitting on a cold seat for more than three hours. Dickens' novel -- which follows the seesaw fortunes of the 19-year-old Nicholas Nickleby and his sister, Kate, in the wake of the death of their kindly but bankrupt father -- was initially adapted by Edgar for a 1980 London production by the Royal Shakespeare Company. Cal Shakes' two-part production, with its 24 actors and 6-1/2-hour running time (both parts together), is a "miniature" version of the original, which employed 48 actors and ran close to nine hours. Edgar himself pared down his RSC text for Cal Shakes. Nickleby owes much of its magic to the combined creativity of directors Jonathan Moscone and Sean Daniels. Edgar's adaptation, which swings back and forth between different locations, is fluidly rendered through seamless physical and emotional changes. The ensemble scenes are lively and magnetic, but the general high pitch of the performances, in which every sentence is delivered as if it were the punch line to an extremely funny and original joke, backfires in a number of ways, such as undermining some of Dickens' most juicy scenes and characters -- the few that are supposed to be over the top. Part Two continues through Sept. 11 at the Bruns Memorial Amphitheater, 100 Gateway Blvd. (just off Highway 24), Orinda. Tickets are $10-55; call (510) 548-9666 or visit www.calshakes.org. (Chloe Veltman) Reviewed July 27.

Sore Throats. The daytime-soap-esque plot of British playwright Howard Brenton's 1979 drama Sore Throats gives little of the play's raw expressive power away. Revolving around the aftermath of an ugly divorce between a 45-year-old policeman, Jack, and his 39-year-old ex-wife, Judy, Sore Throats proffers a deeply nihilistic perspective on the nature of marital relationships. The theater has become accustomed to explicit acts of sex and violence in the 26 years since Brenton wrote Sore Throats. That the play still resonates thousands of miles away from the suburban London in which it is set, and after more than a quarter of a century in time, is testimony both to the power of the writing and to Last Planet's compact yet emphatic staging. Brenton's play has its physically vicious moments: For example, when Jack (Matt Leshinskie) first strikes Judy (Heidi Wolff) in the mouth, even familiarity with the play does not ready you for the clipped brutality of the act. But the true source of conflict and shock in Sore Throats isn't in these physical acts of violence -- it's in the startling pictures evoked by the characters' words. Furthermore, what director John Wilkins and his cast brilliantly understand is that for all the brutality of its language, Sore Throats has an ardently redemptive core. The characters might behave in the most childish of ways (indeed all three of them seem to be going through a latent anal phase with their frequent references to each other's sexual organs), but the actors manage to convey a subtle beauty in Judy, Jack, and Sally (Miranda Calderon) that on occasions transcends the mess of these characters' lives. Through Aug. 21 at Last Planet Theatre, 351 Turk (between Hyde and Leavenworth), S.F. Tickets are $15-18 (Thursdays are two-for-one); call 440-3505 or visit www.lastplanettheatre.com. (Chloe Veltman) Reviewed Aug. 10.