Hanging by a fringe

We went, we saw, we survived. Hey, if you saw 40 performances at the Seattle Fringe Festival—and, by the way, could actually recommend 12 of them—you'd be feeling pretty damn proud, too. As expected, the good stuff was like a breath of fresh air on a mountain of . . . well, anyway, we were happy to find some gems, though the bad experiences were enough to test even the saintliest patience. As one particularly defeated Fringe patron was overheard to sigh, "If it keeps up like this, I am not doing this next year. . . ." Here's hoping you catch some winners.

Seattle Fringe Festival
multiple venues, Capitol Hill ends March 18

* = critic's pick

Among the Ruins

Defibrillator Productions hit upon an engaging approach to its adaptation of 10 Franz Kafka short stories, weaving precise physical theater in among Kafka's words to visually express the meaning of the stories. The plight of jackals in one scene is as beautiful as it is disturbing, and the use of a film projector to convey the "hunger artist" in another is both ingenious and effective. In many of the stories, however, the physical embodiment is too literal, skirting along the surface of Kafka's meaning without ever penetrating it.—Molly Rhodes

Chamber Theater, 915 E Pine, 4th floor: Fri 3/16 at 10; Sun 3/18 at noon.

Another Jackass Tries a One-Man Show

Mark Boeker's solo piece does not deliver on the promise of the jaded, smoking clown he impersonates in his publicity photos. His material can be caustic, in a juvenile, manic way, but the red-nosed fool ultimately proves to be a disappointing softie at heart (spouting rhymed couplets about the need to love yourself, no less). Boeker still really only has the germ of an idea for a show, and he doesn't seem at all ready to perform even that; his thoughts on relationships and growing older come off like nervous party conversation. Although something is beating deep in here, neither Boeker nor director Mark Fullerton have yet found that heart.—Steve Wiecking

Northwest Actors Studio, 1100 E Pike: Fri 3/16 at 6; Sun 3/18 at 6:15.

The Best for You

Writer-director Jessa WhiteWolf's play charts the turbulent friendship of two young women and the turn it takes when one of them comes out of the closet. The dialogue veers between clunky exposition ("I just had a baby, and the father disappeared two days after I told him!") and awful sentimental exchanges (Jamina: "You are hopeless." Allison: "Hopelessly in love!"). Most memorable is poor, wordless Aaron Voorhees, who is used—quite literally—as a warm body whenever a male is needed and forced at one point to perform a humiliating striptease. Clothed or not, he looks absolutely mortified throughout. He's right.—S.W.

Union Garage 2, 1418 10th: Sat 3/17 at 3:30; Sun 3/18 at 3.

*Black Codes

Heavily inspired by mentors David Mamet and William H. Macy, Vancouver, B.C., playwright Kris Elgstrand weaves together three dark comedy vignettes. His tight, crisp plays deftly walk the line between the absurd and the searing, probing deep, for instance, into what kind of bread was used to beat a store clerk or what kind of cleaning products you would use if faced with your dead mother bleeding on the floor. The cast is uniformly engaging, though you wish more would follow Elgstrand (in the role of the bread-beater) and allow themselves to push the boundaries of their characters.—M.R.

Union Garage 2, 1418 10th: Thu 3/15 at 9:15; Sat 3/17 at noon.

The Bride's Tales

The Bride's Tales views nuptial traditions (stag parties, wedding photos, gift giving) through the lens of butoh dance. And while the troupe Dappin' Butoh doesn't display the physical or spiritual intensity of the Japanese artists who invented the form, they manage to muster a few startling images—for instance, a bride slowly spinning on a pedestal as a group of men beneath her transforms into a roiling mass of lesser primates. Toward the end of this evening-length piece, the group's energy flags, so we're glad when a trio of taiko drummers arrives to pound some life into the final scene.—Lynn McFeely

Broadway Performance Hall, Broadway and E Pine: Thu 3/15 at 10; Sat 3/17 at 8.

*Burt (Or When I was Five I Killed Myself)

Teddi Yaeger's superb adaptation of Howard Buten's book—about a boy thrown into a mental institution for what he did to a classmate—creates the perfect mix of horror, humor, and insight. Director Susanna Wilson elegantly weaves the action across the stage, bleeding a tight-knit cast in and out of deftly drawn scenes and characters, topped off by Brian Culver's Burt. Culver draws you in as he repels you, just as creepy as he is endearing in his attempts to deal with being suddenly thrust from a child's imagination out into the much less simple adult world.—M.R.

Northwest Actors Studio, 1100 E Pike: Sat 3/17 at noon; Sun 3/18 at 4:15.

Christmas Brotherhood

For a play that dwells on sex—Singing into dildos! Dissecting the movie line "lick my pussy!" Writing love letters like "I'll send out my penis like a torpedo!"—this production is mind-numbingly unsexy. A brief display of nudity is more pedestrian than provocative. By the time the horny bisexual housewife (Jessica Davis) decides to leave her lesbian corporate bitch partner (Oneda Harris) for said partner's half-brother (Ian Stone), you wonder why playwright-director George Savage Jr. thinks you should be attracted to or care about any of them.—M.R.