Liberty Deli

Through May 10.A man goes and buys a painting. Rich people do this all the time. Whether it's a matter of artistic appreciation or a class issue doesn't change the fact that anyone who spends $200K on a painting is fundamentally an asshole--a prissy, pursed-lipped, pickle-munching prick. We're all in agreement on this, right?

Now meet Serge, who amply meets this description (for part of the play he prances around in a florid evening robe). Serge has just spent the aforementioned sum on an entirely white--yep, blank--painting that his best friend, Marc, calls a "white piece of shit." Their mutual friend Yvan doesn't think it's quite so bad ("It's the completion of a journey," he stammers. "There's a system behind it"), but admits he doesn't think it's worth $200K. Serge, a pompous intellectual baby, makes the case that Yvan and Marc are uneducated, narrow, and jealous.

As if this weren't already as trite as the conversations occurring every day in liberal arts college dorms across America, Yasmina Reza's play then takes a turn for the worst, devolving into a series of sentimental crises as the characters--none of whom are gay (hardy har har)--begin babbling about their feelings for one another. If they can't agree on the worth of the painting, what can they agree on? At one point, one of them says, tearfully, "I just want to be your friend." It's almost too much to bear.

Miraculously, the actors almost pull it off. Adam Twiss, as Serge, is adequately off-putting and convincingly proud of his stupid painting; Jerry Lloyd's Marc is snide but sensitive; and Lyam White pulls off the most improbable of breakdowns with the energy and range of an exploding bunny. One creative insight at the end of the play notwithstanding ("Nothing great or beautiful in this world has ever been born of rational argument"), there is very little substantive conversation about art in Art. A better title would have been Friends. CHRISTOPHER FRIZZELLE

Things Being What They Are

Seattle Repertory Theatre

Through May 25.Can't we talk about something else? Ping-Pong, maybe? I'm serious. PING-PONG would be less boring than Things Being What They Are. Even the TITLE is boring, and recalling the play to write this review might be so boring that I lose consciousness. Bear with me if I drift.

Someone help me understand! Theaters--darn good theaters--are going tits-up all over the place, and the Rep chooses to produce this towering pile of yawns? Maybe it was the "oooh!" factor of playwright Wendy MacLeod, who's mostly famous for penning The House of Yes, which in film form featured Parker Posey and achieved cult-classic-hood. But I think even The House of Yes drips with an irritating "playishness"--with dialogue and scenarios that won't let you forget for a second that you're watching a PLAY. For instance? Well, in Things Being What They Zzzz, we get corny, uncomfortable, and unlikely dialogue--such as two middle-aged, straight white dudes from the 'burbs meeting and remarking, "So, two men talking, bonding. What's wrong with that?"

Oh so much.

The gist: Bill (R. Hamilton Wright) is an anal-retentive fellow with marriage problems, and his new neighbor Jack (Jeff Steitzer) an offensive slob with divorce problems. This not-so-odd couple plop themselves on the sofa, watch ESPN, drink beer uncomfortably, and bitch with varying levels of pathos about the quiet desperation of their dull lives in the 'burbs. Every now and then their banter waxes clever (there are some giggle-inducing one-liners and cute side stories), and sometimes the two men even seem endearing.

But mostly the story is as emotionally engaging as a box of saltines. The acting's good, the direction's fine, the theater craft in general is okay. I just lament that the effort didn't go toward a story that went somewhere or characters I could manage to give a fig about. Zzzz. ADRIAN RYAN

China Dolls

Standard Lounge

Through May 25.Welcome to Seattle. I trust you're enjoying your stay here at the Three Seasons? Oh, I'm so glad to hear it! Judging from your attire, it looks like you're getting ready for a night out on the town! As your concierge, I enjoy nothing more than assisting you in your quest for the very best entertainment our city has to offer. Simply tell me a little bit about what you're looking for, and I'll be happy to make some suggestions!

Hmmm... you're a middle-aged, middle-class, middlebrow closeted homosexual in town for business, and you'd like to find a revue that indulges your persistent and inexplicable desire to watch strident, self-congratulatory drag queens and drama-school dropouts belt out show tunes without a trace of irony.

You're also a big reader (ever since Oprah!), so you shouldn't have any problem plowing through director's notes that read like a grant proposal, claiming (despite all evidence to the contrary) that "this show displays a vibrant coming of age and sexuality... highlight[ing] the desirability of the Asian male and embrac[ing] the diversity that has given us a cultural identity."

You also enjoy watching lots and lots of TV, so you shouldn't be too shocked by surgical enhancements that defy gravity (and reason), sexual posturing without heat, and vulgarity without wit. In fact, you probably prefer it!

And since you usually spend hours on the phone each week voting for American Idol, you'll be thrilled to bang your hands together to choose an "alternative" ending that finally brings a merciful end to the shameless proceedings. Am I right?

Well, fasten your seat belt--have I got a show for you! TAMARA PARIS