Brent or Brenda?

Ethereal Mutt at Re-bar

Through Dec 27. I imagine it's difficult to pen a cross-dressing comedy without being exploitative, campy, or cheap. Scot Augustson certainly hasn't managed that trick, but his commedia del travestito is exploitative, campy, and cheap in the best possible way.

Brent or Brenda? is a zesty and superfunny biography of a hapless transvestite making his way through life, from his formative romp through Mommy's closet to WWII undercover spying as a German barmaid. Brent just wants to sing, play the ukulele, and wear lacy underthings, but the cruel, cruel world condemns his simple sartorial pleasures. Hilarity ensues.

Everyone in this show deserves more praise than you can stuff a bra with--Ben Laurence's performance as Brent is so perfectly guileless, he either channels the character or isn't acting at all. Stacey Plum (Parrot Fever) and Jennifer Jasper (Pulp Vixens) are hilarious ensemble members, but Ms. Mar T. Feldman absolutely steals the show as Bela, the frowning Hungarian narrator gleefully lifted from Ed Wood. Director Ed Hawkins has masterfully sewn this mass of slapstick, wit, and talent into a tight, wicked production.

Brent or Brenda? is sweet, smart, and silly--the funniest thing I've seen on a Seattle stage in far too long. BRENDAN KILEY

The Eight: Reindeer Monologues

Open Circle Theater

Through Dec 20. In The Eight, Santa's flying reindeer give grouchy, gossipy, "adult-oriented" behind-the-scenes dish of the North Pole scene. Sound trite? A trifle obvious? Predictable, yet not without the slight promise of moderate amusement? It is--until they yank out the coup de crap: Santa Claus is a reindeer fucker and child molester. Mrs. Claus is an alcoholic whore. Santa has raped one of the sexier reindeer (who's rumored to be a lesbian and a slut), and has presumably raped you, but the event was so horrible you blocked it out. The raped reindeer is pressing charges. Ha ha ha.

"Emotionally revolting and completely unnecessary" is a severe observation, so allow me to temper this criticism by saying that Marty Mukhalian (as Dancer) and Dusty Warren (Prancer, AKA "Hollywood") gave tight, smart, funny performances despite the premise, which you may have guessed I didn't find funny at all. It seems inevitable that, in a misguided bid for edginess or sociopolitical relevance or even dark farce, some poor soul itching to write an audience-generating Christmas show would conjure up this sort of thing (congrats to author Jeff Goode). But The Eight is just a bad idea, grabbed by the jingle bells and run into the frozen ground. ADRIAN RYAN

Red Ranger Came Calling

Book-It Repertory Theatre

Through Dec 28. I stumbled across Berkeley Breathed's illustrated children's Christmas book Red Ranger Came Calling in a bookstore a few Christmases ago. Standing engrossed at the 50 percent-off stack, I devoured the Depression-era story of a grumpy little boy with big dreams who finally finds the fucking magic of Christmas, my cockles embarrassingly warm as I intermittently blubbered and generally regretted my evil ways.

Book-It Theater clearly sees what I see in this wonderful little story, and wisely chose to adapt it for the stage. Unfortunately, this musical rendition fails to capture the simple, heartfelt power of Breathed's sweet, sad, timeless tale, instead distracting and detracting with many clunky, clumsily rhymed, and unnecessary songs, dances, and silly bits of business--leaving a distinct "community theater" impression, despite the efforts of Stephen Hando and Edd Key, and a great performance by Kevin McKeon as "Saunder Clos." In fairness, there were a handful of moments that hearkened so true to the story, my eye-wells got sloshy. But I also found time to nap, doodle, and do my Kegel exercises. ADRIAN RYAN

Twisted Olivia

Empty Space Theatre

Through Jan 10. Everett Quinton, of the legendarily queer Ridiculous Theatrical Company, tackles Charles Dickens' Oliver Twist, and the results are surprisingly (and wonderfully) straight. This may seem curious to say, as Quinton begins the show as a drag queen named Olivia (inspired by one of Ridiculous' supporters, Minette) who flirts with the audience and begins to reminisce about her affection for the Dickens novel--at which point Quinton launches into a one-man rendition of the book, tackling 20 characters with vitality and impressive skill. The story (thick with Dickens' delectable improbabilities) unfolds in a lucid shorthand, each ornate personality deftly and vividly articulated. It's all done with humor but also with a rich emotional commitment; self-referential jokes crop up here and there, but sparingly, like a counterpoint that makes the sincerity of the rest of the performance all the more rich. Not to be missed. BRET FETZER