In this twisty, summery homage to pulp detective and screamer films, playwright Wayne Rawley drops us into a remote mansion in the late 1950s, where a bunch of LA types are filming a C-grade horror movie. They’re all there: the rich producer, the exasperated director, the Commie writer, etc. When the diva keels over, they’re torn between finishing the movie and trying to find out what killed her. When they find the mansion’s only phone smashed, they realize they’re in the middle of a murder scene—and they’re all suspects. (Theater Schmeater, 2125 Third Ave,, 8 pm, $21 adv/$25 DOS, through Aug 16)

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