Through April 10.
It's true that, during Book-It's production of Alan Paton's Cry, the Beloved Country, my misty ducts welled up with enough poignantly sad and exquisitely tortured eye-dew to float my eyeballs right out of my head; during the production's loftier moments (there were about a kazillion), my choked-up heart may have swelled with the rare, profound hope-for-humanity reserved for sunny Easter mornings, pre-Aladdin Disney, and the blearier episodes of Touched by an Angel. And I'm a big enough man-child to admit it.

I'm reluctant, however, to toss around half-baked abstractions like "compelling," "intense," "touching," "provocative," "gripping," and "spiritually uplifting," although this smart adaptation of Paton's intense, emotionally compelling, and spiritually uplifting novel about two South African fathers--a humble Zulu parson and a proud white landowner, each of whom loses a son and follows his own twisted path to redemption and forgiveness in late 1940s South Africa--is superbly acted, smartly staged, and, well, touching. And gripping. And touching. Like I said.

This beautiful, powerful story is drawn together by many strong performances--especially that of the superlative William Hall Jr. as the simple, sensitive country pastor. Cry, the Beloved Country is a rare and moving theater experience that leaves one feeling a little bit lighter, and not just in the eye-water department. ADRIAN RYAN

Notorious Women

Live Girls! Theater

Through March 20.
Nothing ties this collection of biographical profiles together beyond the rather slender notion of rebellion and notoriety; arguing that opera diva Maria Callas and Burmese freedom fighter Daw Aung San Suu Kyi, who faced down loaded weapons, are in the same category of heroine seems a disservice to both. More dangerously, these theatrical snippets are so brief that they reduce almost all of their subjects (which include Gertrude Stein, Zora Neale Hurston, and suffragette Elizabeth Cady Stanton) to a state of bland, earnest nobility--ironically, the figure who comes across with the most personality is the mythical Lilith. Still, the members of the acting team (five young actresses in brightly colored tank tops; wisely, no attempt is made to physically impersonate these historical figures) throw themselves into the material with zest, and director Margot Bordelon's staging keeps things dynamic. The strongest piece overall is a dramatization of Gloria Steinem's magazine article about going undercover as a Playboy Bunny, which has a story, conflict, and Steinem's smart, sardonic point of view. More of these women's own voices--and less rapturous gushing about Patti Smith by pot-smoking college girls in a public restroom--would have given Notorious Women more heft. BRET FETZER

The Pickle

Northwest Actors Studio

Through March 27.
The Pickle is sitcom-y fluff, but the production knows it and doesn't try to be anything more (and smartly keeps itself to an hour in length). Two roommates--repressed, nerdy Annie and mouthy, trampy Mona--discover that not only are they sleeping with the same guy, so is their mutual psychotherapist, Dr. Stephens. When all three end up at his apartment and discover the boyfriend's dead body, the situation becomes a three-way interrogation as they try to suss out who did what to whom and when. Even for farce the situation is implausible, but there are enough funny lines to keep the play moving along. As Annie and Mona, Courtney Lewin and Diane Stern play their parts broadly but with charm; they have a rapport that makes their friendship believable, despite their wildly divergent personalities. Carolynne Wilcox, as Dr. Stephens, lacks the buoyant energy of the other two, and in a thin three-handed play like this, that's a significant imbalance. Also, the writers (Lewin, Wilcox, and director Laura J. Parkening) apparently felt obliged to give the end a narrative twist, even if that twist depends upon Annie and Mona being unobservant morons--a poor conclusion to a modest but pleasant show. BRET FETZER

Saturday Morning Cartoon Show

Wing-It Productions

Through March 19.
Wing-It Productions' Jet City Improv is pretty darn funny; the best improv I've seen in Seattle. Plus, Jet City's production of Saturday Morning Cartoon Show runs about an even 50-50 between improv and actual rehearsed bits. The show begins with a clever take on that '70s camp classic of tight jeans, futuristic lizard people, and Claymation tyrannosaurs, Land of the Lost, mixes in a few takes on familiar commercials (how many licks does it take to get to the center, anyway?), and closes with a completely improvised episode of Scooby-Doo featuring quick, clever improv and the second-best Shaggy I've ever seen. The production left me with the exact same feeling as a night out drinking with a bunch of smart, fun people that I know extremely well and with whom I share a similar sense of humor. And that's light years more than you get from most improv--sans the suicide wish. Viva la Jet City. ADRIAN RYAN