Resisting animal impulses

“How many cats do you know who have the power to deny their instinctive urges?” asks the title character of “King Cat Calico Finally Flies Free!” Not many, and Aaron Henne’s absurdist dramedy at Son of Semele isn’t too optimistic about human urges, either. When this alliterative account of a reclusive cat collector and the alpha male of her dreams goes for psychosexual mayhem, purring anarchy reigns.

Meet sweetly eccentric Heidi K. Hendrickson (the excellent Laura Carson). Heidi faces trial over the 150 cats (60 in the refrigerator) trapped in her 1,100-square-foot apartment (smartly evoked by Maureen Weiss’ yellow-hued set of detritus-stuffed compartments and a newspaper floor).

The real defendant is Heidi’s sanity, which is where King Cat Calico (the formidable Mark McClain Wilson) comes in. A crowned renegade, King’s attempts to escape from Heidi’s obsessive-compulsive clutches have left him at tether’s end. Overseen by a porn-reading judge (Elizabeth Clemmons) and a lascivious German shrink (Michael Kass), metaphors of survival and denial merge into an abstract portrait of thwarted identity, with Heidi’s dead Papa (Don Boughton) holding at least one key to her needy neuroses.

Under Edgar Landa’s agile direction, the designs are sharp, with Cricket Myers’ soundtrack outstanding. The feral, funny cast ingests the contrasts in tone like tuna. All the actors-as-kitties in designer Reagan’s costumes are delightful, arching and spitting with perverse glee.

Such aplomb scores past some scratchy patches. Although Charles Sedgwick Hall embodies Rush Limbaugh’s id with hilarity, the reference feels arbitrary, and Henne could expand the tabloid reporter (Ray Paolantonio). Nonetheless, the ripe imagination on tap should be catnip for the adventurous. Dog lovers may need tranquilizers.

-- David C. Nichols

“King Cat Calico Finally Flies Free!” Son of Semele Theater, 3301 Beverly Blvd., L.A. 8 p.m. Thursdays through Saturdays, 7 p.m. Sundays; also 8 p.m. July 10. $15. (800) 838-3006 or www.sonofsemele.org. Running time: 1 hour, 20 minutes.

*

Weight support: a task for ‘Hercules’

Noble aims accompany “Hercules on Normandie” at the Greenway Court Theatre. This metaphysical, mega-topical play with music raises consciousness in every direction. That proves its undoing.

Written and directed by James Eric and Mark Kemble, “Hercules” follows the title character (Daryl Keith Roach), a death row inmate first seen materializing above an altar at Good Friday services. This appearance occurs on the heels of three antiwar activists: gay Kentucky hip-hopper James (IN-Q), wealthy Osasami (Bethany Pagliolo) and Miguel (Eduardo Enrikez), an embittered Iraq veteran. Their interlocking narratives hinge on Angelo (David Ari), an irreverent seraphim who hopes to upgrade his wings.

“Hercules” certainly looks swank. Victoria Bellocq and co-author Eric design an imposing Catholic sanctuary set, which takes Jeremy Pivnick’s lush lighting beautifully. A. Jeffrey Schoenberg provides sharp costumes, and choreographer Ayana Cahrr turns the Act 1 finale (“Prison Is Big Business”) into a slamming, banging peak.

Yet, barring a sweet Spanish-language duet for Miguel and his grandfather (Jose Martin Ruano) and Osasami’s confessional “I’d Like to Know You,” the songs -- music by Mario Padilla and Gordon Glor, who wrote the lyrics with Eric and Kemble -- suffer from labored lyrics and throat-straining melodic lines.

The overloaded libretto layers on archetypes and issues until didacticism replaces dialogue. James’ saga revives the gay-as-victim cliche, while the Hercules/Miguel complications approach daytime drama. The murky missionary history of Father Francis (Frank Califano) and the winking angelic device are ill advised.

Sadly, the tangled agitprop narrative and mostly generic score form a hydra of obstacles that sleek designs and a game but uneven cast cannot conquer. “Hercules” has the courage of its authors’ convictions, but their ambitious workshop polemic needs work.

-- D.C.N.

“Hercules on Normandie,” Greenway Court Theatre, 544 N. Fairfax Ave., L.A. 8 p.m. Thursdays through Saturdays. Ends July 29. $25. (323) 655-7679, Ext. 100. Running time: 2 hours, 35 minutes.

*

More soul, please, at ‘Heaven’ confab

Heaven, Dec. 25. A bunch of dead rock stars are putting together a celestial concert bash to celebrate the birthday of J.C., Messiah and wannabe guitar god. But there’s trouble in paradise: Moses hates anything louder than a harp, and Satan has slapped a legal injunction on everyone from Janis Joplin to Jim Morrison -- these musical legends may be immortal, but they no longer hold the rights to their own music.

Like some extended “Saturday Night Live” skit, writer-composer-director Jason Mershon’s well-intentioned albeit cloying musical, “Rock and Roll Heaven,” has a cute concept but lacks one vital element: a true rock ‘n’ roll soul. Against the backdrop of Danny Cistone’s gauzy curtained set, rock royalty such as Jimi Hendrix and Elvis jump around in goofy moves that seem more Disney than Dionysian. And what about the music itself? Instead of piping in tinny, synthesized songs, why not have an onstage band to amp up the audience?

Mershon does have an engaging irreverence. Jesus first strolls on carrying a portable lawn chair and a sun reflector, and that famous Burning Bush from Exodus talks -- and belts -- back to Moses in the imposing form of the ferociously voiced, wigged-out Karen McClain.

But “Heaven’s” occasional flashes of wit are all but overshadowed by generally hammy acting, cheap production values and a truly weird second-act digression that leaves you wondering whether this show wants to be a rock musical or an after-school special on safe sex scripted by the folks from “Sesame Street.”

There are some gems in the rough, including Alex Spencer’s giddy turn as a breathless Judy Garland, Jacob Magnuson’s dude-where’s-my-halo Jesus and Brenna Graziano’s cheeky Gilda Radner. But Mershon’s gonna have to try (a little bit harder) before his musical’s really going to light our fire.

-- Charlotte Stoudt

“Rock and Roll Heaven,” Theatre 68, 5419 Sunset Blvd., Suite D, Hollywood. 8 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays, 2 p.m. Sundays. Ends Aug. 27. $30. (323) 960-7774. Running time: 2 hours.