Fessing up can be very funny

“Regretrosexual: The Love Story” has extended at the Hudson Guild Theatre, and it may just be the best date show in town. This expansion of the 2005 solo hit about stand-up comic Dan Rothenberg’s struggle to admit his prior gay identity to the woman he loves doesn’t so much advance the confessional form as give it a hilarious workout.

By incorporating the object of Rothenberg’s affection -- wonderful Colleen Crabtree, who co-wrote the text and plays everybody else, including herself -- “Regretrosexual” carries unusual authenticity. Rothenberg’s maturation included two years of same-sex activity in San Francisco, where he rejected his heterosexual bent for fear of losing his best friend, who had just come out. This gay period (as opposed to “phase”) would be moot if Rothenberg had not met Crabtree, as psychically fragile in her way as he was in his.

A prime source of fun in “Regretrosexual” comes from its adroit delaying of Rothenberg’s admission confession while it ups the emotional ante. The other great pleasure is the deft way that this real-life couple mesh under Richard Kuhlman’s smart direction. Zipping around the center unit of designer Alex Hutton’s simple set, Crabtree has a rare gift for instant personas, which dovetails with Rothenberg’s appealing ability to give zingers an unexpected vulnerable spin. Aided by Matt Richter’s witty sound and lighting effects, their mutual empathy is altogether engaging.

If there is a flaw, it is that “Regretrosexual” is almost too clever in its sly self-references. At times, the quips nearly blur the emerging interpersonal issues, which transcend gender specifics.

Yet long before the touching finale, it’s clear that this loopy pair were born for each other, and watching them come to the same conclusion makes “Regretrosexual” a uniquely satisfying duologue.

-- David C. Nichols

“Regretrosexual: The Love Story,” Hudson Guild Theatre, 6543 Santa Monica Blvd., Hollywood. 8 p.m. Thursdays through Saturdays. Ends April 12. $20. (323) 960-7822. Running time: 1 hour, 30 minutes.

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Better to not mind the gaps

You might want to disconnect the reasoning faculty of your brain for the duration of “West Bank, UK,” the hugely likable, massively puzzling musical at the Malibu Stage Co. But then, your energetically tapping toes will probably distract you from any faint misgivings you might have about the piece’s general aimlessness.

The setup seems straight out of sitcom: A lonely Palestinian bachelor, living in squalor in Britain, is forced to share his roach-trap flat with a dapper Israeli guy who has just suffered a painful breakup.

At first blush, that premise seems almost painfully pat. However, writer-director Oren Safdie and composer-lyricist-arranger Ronnie Cohen heave their high concept through the looking glass, to surreal and often lacerating effect.

Initially, Aziz (Mike Mosallam), a drug dealer, is livid when arms dealer Assaf (Jeremy Cohen) arrives at his London digs claiming to be the legal tenant. Bickering between these reluctant roomies soon becomes bonding, then outright sexual attraction, before veering back into bellicosity and open “warfare.”

Huge plot points go begging. The protagonists’ supposedly criminal exploits are never fully explored or explained (why such indigence if they are indeed professional felons?), while their homo- sexual liaison quickly drops through the cracks of the fractured story structure. And although his music is unfailingly sprightly, Cohen’s lyrics range from the provocative to the downright sophomoric.

Yet if it fails as a pointed dialectic of Middle Eastern conflict, “West Bank” succeeds as an exercise in pure drollery. Safdie infuses his uneven enterprise with enormous energy and humor, and the first-rate cast, which includes Anthony Patellis and Janine Molinari in a variety of comical character roles, delivers propulsive performances of Broadway caliber. The highlight of the evening, Cohen’s klezmer-influenced score, is brought to rowdy fruition by musical director Scott Baldyga, who helms one of the liveliest onstage musical ensembles you are likely to hear this season.

-- F. Kathleen Foley

“West Bank, UK,” Malibu Stage Co., 29243 Pacific Coast Highway, Malibu. 8 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays, 4 p.m. Sundays. Ends April 13. $25. (310) 589-1998. Running time: 1 hour, 15 minutes.

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A most able representation

There’s much that is brave about “The History of Bowling,” Mike Ervin’s comedy, now at the NoHo Arts Center, about a quadriplegic’s love affair with a fellow college student who is epileptic. A longtime activist for the disabled, Ervin evidently wrote his play with a dual purpose, not only to entertain but also to provide juicy roles for disabled performers.

In that, he has certainly succeeded, and in so doing, he has focused overdue attention on artists with disabilities, who are dismally underrepresented in most media. Yet “Bowling” is not really a play about disabilities. It’s a play that happens to revolve around characters who happen to have disabilities.

That’s a vital distinction. “Bowling” offers a fair share of belly laughs, not to mention plenty of invigorating wryness. Unfortunately, there’s a situational slightness to the play more appropriate to light television fare than a full-blown piece of theater.

Comical Danny Murphy plays Chuck, a late bloomer who has recently enrolled in college. Handily navigating the campus in his wheelchair, Chuck hooks up with Lou (hilarious Tara Samuel), a bright, troubled epileptic, to write a paper for demanding gym coach Barnes (Chris Scoles).

Romance quickly follows -- a bit too quickly. Although agreeably quirky, Ervin’s predictable boy-meets-girl tale is sometimes short on motivation. Fortunately, director Sara Botsford makes the most of the lighter-than-air material, which is further buoyed by an effervescent cast, including Lynn Manning as Chuck’s blind and deaf roommate, a crafty rogue who moves in on Lou at the earliest opportunity.

The versatile scenic design by Dan Morski and Jay Vetter neatly accommodates the play’s many locales, and an amusingly perky quartet of cheerleaders smooths the frequent scene changes. However, Murphy and Samuel seemed vaguely self-conscious during Chuck’s nude scene, with Lou nervously tucking in Chuck’s blanket before the “unveiling” -- an inorganic glitch in an otherwise smooth staging.

-- F.K.F.

“The History of Bowling,” NoHo Arts Center, 11136 Magnolia Blvd., North Hollywood. 8 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays, 3 p.m. Sundays. Ends April 27. $20. (818) 508-7101, Ext. 211. www.thenoho artscenter.com. Running time: 1 hour, 50 minutes.

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Could’ve used some editing

The protagonist of Richard Greenberg’s “The Violet Hour” is a young, ambitious book editor in 1919 New York whose job is to take manuscripts and shape them for publication. If only he could apply his red pen to the play itself. This drama contains enough material for five narratives, all crammed into one postmodern mess.

First produced in 2002 at South Coast Repertory, “The Violet Hour” is being revived by Theatre Tribe in North Hollywood. (The play had a Broadway run in 2003.) The story begins with a straightforward premise: John Seavering (Thomas Burr) is the editor who has just opened his own publishing house. For his first book, he must decide whether to publish a sprawling, amateurish novel by his friend (Jeff Kerr McGivney) or a brilliant memoir by his clandestine lover, a sultry African American flapper (Angelle Brooks).

The arrival of a supernatural printing press in John’s office sends the play hurtling down a convoluted wormhole. Time rearranges itself, texts intersect, and characters mysteriously vanish only to randomly reappear. It’s difficult to say what Greenberg is trying to accomplish with this swerve into meta-narrative territory. On one level, his message that you shouldn’t believe everything you read, especially traditional narratives, is almost insultingly simplistic. On another, the play’s nonlinear structure is a refreshingly bold experiment that deserves points simply for effort.

If little else, “The Violet Hour” offers complex and challenging roles for its cast. Burr delivers an admirably subtle turn as the editor, underplaying each scene in ways that suggest a complicated inner life bubbling under the WASP-y crust. But the best performance of the play comes from Brooks as his girlfriend. This seductive character is a Pinter-esque sphinx who uses her intelligence and enigmatic beauty as tools for social advancement. Watching Brooks slink expertly around the small set makes you wish Greenberg had written a play just for her.

Directed by Stuart Rogers, the production lovingly conjures up the Jazz Age with impressively detailed costumes and evocative lighting. But the substance of the play remains elusive, buried deep within half-formed ideas and a byzantine matrix of timelines.

-- David Ng

“The Violet Hour,” Theatre Tribe, 5267 Lankershim Blvd., North Hollywood. 8 p.m. Thursdays through Saturdays. Ends April 19. $20. (800) 838-3006. Running time: 2 hours, 20 minutes.