By Sarika Chawla

Between the Sheets

Acme Comedy Theatre
135 N. La Brea, L.A.
Through August 12
Saturday 8 p.m.
Tickets: $15
(323) 525-0202
www.acmecomedy.com

What better way to examine relationships than through some sketch comedy? Acme's latest show, Between the Sheets, offers up a whopping 16 short sketches (in two acts) that range from giant babies to Harry Potter, each written and performed with a sharp comedic edge.

The title is a bit misleading, as there's not a whole lot of sex going on here—what little there is tends to get thwarted rather quickly. But there is a whole overview of various types of relationships, most of which have some sort of major dysfunction, and they're usually put in some hilariously awkward situation. In “Into the Woods,” two burly hunters express their love for beer, hunting and each other; in “In the Mood,” a couple about to consummate their relationship ends up in a messy bloodbath, while in “The Proposal,” a man's attempt to propose to his girlfriend goes terribly awry.

Director Travis Oates works with a cast that is very talented in the art of sketch. Each scene is quite short, so that they just nail the first punch line before blacking out to make way for the next one. Some scenes are linked, like having the same characters reappear or past situations referred to, but no one joke is extended for too long. The topics that they cover are compelling because they take familiar, everyday situations in the home or workplace, and put a humorous spin on it. They don't stoop to stereotypes (particularly gay stereotypes, which is often a fallback in this medium for a cheap laugh) or gross-out humor, which is refreshing.

While each cast member has their turn to shine, there are a few standouts. Kimberly Lewis is especially comical in “Gypsy!,” as an actress-turned-temp who sings her way through her first day of work. Any lesser performer could potentially make this scene fall flat, but Lewis actually has a lovely voice, and she elegantly plies and prances her way through a medley of Broadway tunes like a pro. Having a comic work to the top of their ability rather than simply playing the fool for a laugh is what makes this kind of humor work best. Also notable is Kirk Diedrich, whose character work and ample proportions allow him to take on a variety of impersonations, like Wilford Brimley selling his soul for radio ads, and Hagrid offering Harry Potter some bungling sex advice. You may not walk out of here understanding the human condition any more than when you went in, but at least there is the opportunity to make fun of it a little bit.

The Time of Your Life

Open Fist Theatre
6209 Santa Monica Blvd., L.A.
Through July 1
Thursday-Saturday 8 p.m., Sunday 7 p.m.
Tickets: $15-$25
(323) 882-6912
www.openfist.org

The Open Fist Theatre Company has a history of producing ambitious works, and William Saroyan's The Time of Your Life is no exception. The 1939 play tries to illustrate Saroyan's philosophy that even in the ugliest times, humans should still experience life to the fullest. This should still be a socially relevant theme, but while this production successfully conjures up the desperate atmosphere of the Depression, it ends up feeling somewhat like an archaic revival.

The story takes place in a seedy San Francisco bar filled with down-and-outers who are biding their time until life takes a turn for the better. The plot is thin, and focuses on eccentric barfolk to illustrate the randomness of life and what we must do to achieve some happiness (sometimes it just means drinking a lot).

Without much story behind it, the play depends on its many characters. The real operator behind the bar's happenings is Joe (Michael Franco), the inexplicably wealthy alcoholic who sips champagne day and night. Franco does an excellent job of balancing Joe's outward arrogance with his inner drive to help others. This dichotomy comes out particularly when Joe's eager gofer Tom (Jimmy Kieffer) falls in love with a forlorn prostitute, Kitty David (Anna Khaja). Though Joe exerts his power over Tom by sending him out on pointless errands and seduces Kitty with kind words, he manages to orchestrate a relationship between the two almost entirely from his bar seat.

However, the desperation in this play overrides almost any positivity. Even in lighthearted moments, like when Franco and Kieffer compete over who can chew the most gum, or when Khaja reappears as a lady, thanks to her benefactor, there is still a sense of hopelessness. But in all honesty, it's hard to say whether this is a flaw in Saroyan's disjointed writing (several monologues, the appearance of several random characters, and some confusing dialogue), or if director Stefan Novinski somehow missed the mark in terms of extracting enough lightness from the text.

Still, there are moments in which some humor with a political edge emerges, and this happens with some of the remaining characters. Kit Carson (Bruce A. Dickinson) is a down-on-his-luck trapper who regales the bar with his fanciful yarns while pounding down beer—he is the essence of an America that was long forgotten even in 1939. Others include a young boy who spends his limited resources trying to conquer a marbles game (to “beat the system), the out-of-work comedian/singer who is talentless at both, and the swanky socialites who are slumming it in the dive bar. The large cast navigates the complicated text quite skillfully, but it feels more like a lot of functioning pieces rather than a cohesive whole—it's as if in the process of putting up this play, its point somehow got lost along the way.