“Ain’t Misbehavin’� looks deceptively simple: Thirty songs associated with piano great Thomas “Fats� Waller strung together by a cast of five and a band of six.

But there’s more than just songs, as you’ll find in a high-octane revival of the 1978 Tony Award-winning best musical at the White Plains Performing Arts Center through March 16. There’s heart and soul and an irrepressible love of life.

Director Jerry Dixon — who gave an outstanding performance as Coalhouse Walker in WPPAC’s recent concert version of “Ragtime� — assembles a talented team of singers and instrumentalists who deliver a loving tribute to Waller, a Harlem Renaissance man as at home behind the piano as he was behind the microphone.

“Ain’t Misbehavin’� presents two dozen Waller compositions — from “Honeysuckle Rose� to “The Joint is Jumpin’� to the infectious title tune — and a handful of songs Waller didn’t write but made famous in performance.

Act 1 features more group numbers, while Act 2 offers each performer a chance to have the spotlight to himself or herself. There’s a quick third act, billed as a finale, which features songs that Waller made popular, such as “I’m Gonna Sit Right Down and Write Myself a Letter,� “Two Sleepy People� and “I Can’t Give You Anything But Love.�

The two hours fly by, as Dixon & Co. keep things moving along at a toe-tapping good clip. You’ll likely leave the theater humming, with more spring in your step than you had when you entered.

As a revue, there’s no book to speak of, just wall-to-wall Waller, but the talented cast — Aisha de Haas, Eugene Fleming, Danielle Lee Greaves, Anastacia McClesky, Wayne W. Pretlow — are able to create characters within the songs to give them depth. Each of the 30 songs becomes a scene played out with music.

The singers have their moments to be serious or to cut it up a bit — and they take full advantage of the opportunity.
Take the song “Sisters� from “White Christmas� — with Vera-Ellen and Rosemary Clooney — and turn it on its head and you’ll have “Find Out What They Like,� which turns into a showcase for Greaves’ considerable comedic talent.

Fleming, whose buttery baritone and smooth dance moves anchor the show, steps out in a slithering song that is not likely to win the endorsement of the Partnership for a Drug-Free America.

DeHaas can make her voice thin and reedy, a la Ella, and her rendition of “Squeeze Me� finds a singer at the top of her powers.

Anastacia McClesky sings an off-key, flat and funny “Yacht Club Swng� that was decades before those butchers from the early rounds of “American Idol.� In Act 2, she sings the heck out of “Keepin’ Out of Mischief Now.�

Pretlow, whose rubbery face and quivering lips conjure Bert Lahr as much as Fats Waller, makes the most of the moments he’s given. His “Honeysuckle Rose,� sung to and then with Greaves, captures the playful way that Waller could dissect a song while performing it, keeping it fresh on the hundredth hearing.

A less-successful divergence from the expected was a down-tempo and sultry version of “I’ve Got a Feeling I’m Falling,� typically bouncy and happy. While it would seem an interesting take, this version failed to convince.

Michael Arnold’s choreography is clever, as in “Handful of Keys,� when the cast slides left and right in a tight line, their arms intertwined and windmilling in unison.

This is a cast that can do up-tempo or slow it down — and they can deliver when called on to do comedy. But how would they handle the evening’s most affecting and powerful moment — the mournful “(What Did I Do To Be So) Black and Blue,� which ends Act 2?

With simple grace.

After 90 minutes of mostly fun and games, Dixon’s cast takes it all the way down, bathed in blue light, motionless, and sings Andy Razaf’s haunting lyric:

“I’m white inside
But that don’t help my case.
’Cause I can’t hide
What’s on my face.
What did I do,
to be so black and blue?�

Matthew Hemesath’s costumes find the cast in appropriate and colorful finery and Todd Edward Ivins’ set, well-lit by Joel E. Silver, has the feel of a bygone time — perhaps the Cotton Club of the Roaring Twenties — with three small tables set with lamps.

There’s a bandstand for the six-piece “Ain’t Misbehavin’� Band —musical director Carlton Astor Holmes III at the piano, Reggie Pittman on trumpet, Jay Brandford on saxophone, James Burton on trombone, Paul Beaudry on bass and Willard Dyson on drums — and a secondary, raised platform that is not put to full use here.

It would seem a great area for a solo, but Dixon brings his singers downstage-center for those and uses the platform mostly for entrances and exits and one final “curtain call� of sorts for the actors posing as Waller’s band.

Twice, Holmes’ piano glides downstage, putting “Fats� front and center, as he should be. Holmes, a prodigious pianist, keeps the reins on the band until, 20 minutes in, they let loose with all the brass they can muster on “How Ya Baby,� which leads into a jitterbugging spectacle, “The Jitterbug Waltz,� a nice blending of voices.

There’s a reason “Ain’t Misbehavin’� played more than 1,600 performances on Broadway. It effortlessly evokes another time and introduces Waller to new generations.

WPPAC producer Jack Batman’s formula of presenting classics of American musical theater has produced a powerful “Man of La Mancha,� a memorable “Ragtime� and, now, an “Ain’t Misbehavin’� that transcends time. In newspapers, they say three of anything is a trend.

And what a happy trend it is.

“Ain’t Misbehavin’�
Where: White Plains Performing Arts Center, City Center mall, 11 City Place, White Plains.
When: Through March 16. 8 p.m., Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays; 2 p.m., Sundays.
Tickets: $50 and $60.CQ.
Web: www.wppac.com.
With: Aisha de Haas, Eugene Fleming, Danielle Lee Greaves, Anastacia McClesky, Wayne W. Pretlow.

When Clark Kent takes off his glasses, he’s Superman.

When Pat McRoberts puts on his glasses, he’s Buddy Holly, a forever-young rock ‘n’ roll icon brought back to life on the stage of the Westchester Broadway Theatre in Elmsford.

He’s not able to leap tall buildings in a single bound, but in “Buddy: The Buddy Holly Story,” McRoberts can lift anyone’s midwinter blues with a performance that rivals Indian Point in the megawatt department. He’s simply dazzling.

Buddy Holly was born Charles “Buddy” Hardin Holley in Lubbock, Texas, in 1936. His first contract, with Decca Records, misspelled his name as “Holly,” and he kept it that way. What he didn’t keep was the traditional country sound Decca wanted from him, and he and his band, The Crickets, soon lost their contract.

A friend introduced Holly to Norman Petty, who had a recording studio in tiny Clovis, N.M., and the sound that made Holly a household name was shared with the world.

As even the most casual rock ‘n’ roll fan will know, Holly died in a plane crash after a concert in Clear Lake, Iowa, on Feb. 3, 1959. That crash also killed Ritchie Valens (“La Bamba”) and J.P. Richardson, known as The Big Bopper, who recorded the song “Chantilly Lace.”

(New Rochelle’s Don McLean later called the crash “the day the music died” in his song “American Pie.”)

What some may not know is that Holly’s entire career lasted just 18 months and that he was only 22 when he died. He left behind legions of fans – including four boys from Liverpool who went on to become The Beatles, named in a tribute to The Crickets.

Holly also left behind a young, pregnant wife, Maria Elena, who subsequently miscarried.

That’s the cloud that hangs over “Buddy.” We know the story. We know it all ends with a plane crash in a snowy Iowa field.

But that cloud’s silver lining is the music, 2 1/2 hours of toe-tapping tunes that have the dinner-theater audience nodding their heads, clapping along and, at the slightest urging by McRoberts at the curtain call, dancing in the aisles. The first and second act each end with extended concerts.

Director Victoria Bussert has a rock-solid cast of musician-actors at her disposal and only brings the orchestra into the mix late in the show. For the bulk of the evening, it’s Buddy Holly and The Crickets, playing and singing.

Clearly, this is McRoberts’ show and he nails everything from Holly’s trademark hiccup singing style to the toothy grin and quirky head movements. He runs and slides across the stage on his knees, plays while he’s on his back on the stage. He’s an object in perpetual motion.

But it’s not just a musical performance: There’s a man behind the music and McRoberts fleshes him out.

The Crickets – Eric Scott Anthony as Joe B. Mauldin on bass and John Rochette as Jerry Allison on drums – are accomplished musicians and are convincing as Holly’s friends who eventually split with the talented singer over creative differences. Before they split, their joy in the recording studio scenes is infectious.

Angela C. Howell, who makes a comical turn as Petty’s wife, Vi, also serves as the show’s musical director. As Vi, she plays the piano – in pink slippers, a terry cloth robe and curlers in her hair on one number – and the celesta (a small keyboard instrument that produces a bell-like sound) on the song “Everyday.”

The first scene in Norm Petty’s Recording Studio is a revelation, as we glimpse Holly’s creative process – a playful let’s-try-this approach that produces such hits as “Peggy Sue” and “Everyday” before our eyes. The purity of the “Everyday” recording is indelible. We feel we’re present at the creation. That song will never sound the same.

The authenticity of the moment at WBT is slightly diminished by the prop department’s failure to find an actual reel-to-reel machine that works. Instead, we see two gray boxes with spools, but no action. Come on!

At the press preview, technical glitches kept the show from perfection, including a regrettable, sustained bit of ear-splitting feedback at the start and a phone that continued to ring after the receiver was lifted. These can be easily ironed out.

Steven Loftus’ set is an oversized jukebox – remember jukeboxes? – with huge, arching tubes of white fabric that take on different colors under lighting designer Andrew Gmoser’s powers.

Under the colorful arch is an upper playing area where DJs “spin” the records and some scenes are played. Flanking the stage are large, colorful 45-rpm records – remember 45s? – to help set the scene. Two of these rotate and serve as secondary playing areas.

One small note: 45s had a large black hole in the center – perfect for jukeboxes, but requiring a plastic disc to adapt to an LP player. The ones on Loftus’ set have a small white LP-like hole in the center – without the adapter – and look more like 78s.

Overall, though, the creative departments – lights, set, sound and costumes – help to evoke another time, when a skinny kid from Lubbock became a star playing a new kind of music.

Three of the evening’s most aerobic performances are delivered by Tamara Corbin, Angela Karol Grovey and Becca Lopez as the red-sequined backup singers at Holly’s final concert. He plays for a solid 25 minutes and they shake everything they have – in unison – for that entire time. It’s quite a workout, performed with flair and apparent ease.

In a simple but effective bit of staging, director Bussert starts the show with the band far upstage and, throughout the evening, Buddy’s mike stand gets closer and closer to the audience. As we get closer to him, he gets closer to us.

And then he is gone.

There’s plenty of music in “Buddy,” 27 songs from that prolific but too brief period. Among them: “Ready Teddy,” “That’ll Be the Day,” “Not Fade Away” and “Oh Boy,” songs that capture the rawness and purity that Holly embodied.

Act 1 ends with a memorable Apollo Theatre appearance, when the lily white Holly and The Crickets showed up in Harlem, where club managers had assumed their group was black. (Kudos to Derrick Cobey and Angela Karol Grovey for their work as the Apollo Main Man and Female Performer, two high-octane performances.)

The second act begins with several slow book scenes that cover a lot of ground but tend to drag.

Then comes the moment we’ve been waiting for: The final half-hour recreates that Clear Lake concert, including a hip-swiveling performance by Miguel A. Romero as Valens and a comic turn by Ryan G. Dunkin as the novelty-song singer The Big Bopper, gold-plated telephone at the ready.

The action builds to a fever pitch, giving us a glimpse into what it must have been like in the Surf Ballroom that snowy night.

A final tableau – with the ill-fated singers frozen in a spotlight after a ripping, good concert – drives home what was lost when that plane went down.

“Buddy: The Buddy Holly Story,” written by Alan Janes and Rob Bettinson, premiered in London’s West End in 1989 with Paul Hipp as Buddy and ran for 13 years. Hipp came to Broadway with the show in 1990 and was a 1991 Tony nominee for his performance, in a production that ran for 225 performances. A London revival, which opened last August, is still running.

WBT audiences won’t have that long. “Buddy: The Buddy Holly Story” runs through April 19.

Seeing “Buddy” will leave you wanting more and might send you to iTunes or Amazon.com to get the original works. That is a credit to the work now onstage at Westchester Broadway Theatre.

Oh boy!

Photo by John Vecchiolla: Miguel Romero (Ritchie Valens), Pat McRoberts (Buddy Holly) and Ryan Dunkin (The Big Bopper) on stage at Westchester Broadway Theatre in Elmsford.

‘Buddy: The Buddy Holly Story’

Where: Westchester Broadway Theatre, 1 Broadway Plaza, Elmsford.
When: Through April 19. Wednesday and Thursday matinees: lunch 11:30 a.m., show 1 p.m.; Thursday through Saturday evenings: dinner at 6, show at 8; Sunday matinee: lunch at noon, show at 1:30 p.m.; Sunday evening: dinner at 5, show at 7.
Tickets: $60 to $73, plus tax, depending on the performance.
Call: 914-592-2222.
Web: www.broadwaytheatre.com.

On the heels of an inspired and huge production of Arthur Miller’s “The Crucible,” which transferred to Manhattan’s Arclight Theater, The Schoolhouse Theater in Croton Falls last weekend opened “Appointment with a High Wire Lady,” Russell Davis’ intimate three-person play about love, loss and memory.

The evening is quieter and smaller than its predecessor and, in the end, less satisfying.

“Appointment with a High Wire Lady” involves Richard (Colin Hafkey), a catatonic man in a state institution who is visited by his ex-girlfriend, Louise (Yvette Lenhart).

The third character is Carla, a mysterious old patient who helps Louise break through and reach Richard. Carla, the play’s most unusual and compelling character (played by a luminous Ruth Reid), gets the least stage time.

In keeping with Schoolhouse tradition, the acting is first-rate.

Hafkey, Lenhart and Reid demonstrate an impressive command for the subtlety of their characters. Director Ray Munro’s staging is effective, with some memorable stage pictures, including the final moment of Act 1 when all three actors share one small space.

Hafkey as Richard is a man in the middle of a fog, unable to move or feel, trying to recall his past life but reduced to single syllables. He begins both acts in a catatonic state, mouth agape, staring off. As the action progresses and the fog begins to lift, Hafkey welcomes each revelation with a gee-whiz wonder that is charming.

Lenhart’s Louise is caught in the middle, intimidated by unfamiliar surroundings, feeling guilty at the loss of the relationship, yet wanting to help Richard recover and move on, as she has. When, late in the action, she relates a turning point in her life, the tears flow.

As Carla, Reid captures a woman in the throes of dementia who often delivers the funniest or wisest lines. When she returns to note that Richard is not in his customary chair, she tells Louise: “You moved him.”

And Louise has. Richard makes great strides.

What keeps the evening from advancing beyond a nifty acting exercise, however, is Davis’ dialogue. Having breathed life into these characters and put them in this visiting room, Davis too often relies on stiff dialogue and fixates on words: Louise has a “particular” face, time is “particular,” someone’s feet are “particular”; Richard once was “exuberant,” Louise was “exuberant,” Carla was “exuberant” in Croatia.

If one of the patients were fixated on these words, it could play as a nice character point – like Dustin Hoffman’s obsession with “Who’s on First” in “Rain Man.” But Louise, the nonpatient, uses these words, too.

John Pollard’s set is appropriately institutional – an effective mix of tiles, steel and bars that serves as a blank canvas onto which these characters dab bits of memory, real or imagined.

David Pentz’s use of fluorescent lights gives a stark state-institution feel to the proceedings, but later, when key monologues demand dimmer lighting, the fluorescents don’t shut off in unison and leave us waiting for that last light to flicker off before we can focus on what’s important.

Kimberly Matela’s costumes fit the piece. Richard’s Act 1 pajamas give way to a dressier outfit in the second act, revealing at first sight that the character has changed. Actually, everyone is dressier in Act 2, even Carla, whose slippers get a facelift.

The show’s title comes from a line in Carla’s final monologue, a speech that seems tacked on somehow. After two hours, the end comes abruptly.

The acting and direction is fine, but the script is a letdown. If two out of three is good enough, get to The Schoolhouse. Otherwise, there’s another appointment you might consider: with “The Crucible” in Manhattan.

PHOTO courtesy of the Schoolhouse Theater: Richard (Colin Hafkey), a catatonic man in a state institution, is visited by his ex-girlfriend, Louise (Yvette Lenhart).

‘Appointment with a High Wire Lady’
Where: The Schoolhouse Theater, 3 Owens Road, Croton Falls.
When: Through March 9. Performances are at 8 p.m. Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays and 4 p.m. Sundays.
Tickets: $25 on Thursdays and Fridays and $29 on Saturdays and Sundays.
Call: 914-277-8477.
Web: www.schoolhousetheater.org.
With: Colin Hafkey, Yvette Lenhart, Ruth Reid.
Next: The Schoolhouse holds a fundraising gala April 18, with Frank Ferrante’s “An Evening with Groucho” followed by the season’s final mainstage production: Neil Simon’s “Lost in Yonkers.”

The voices were excellent, the staging effective and the overall experience was transportive as “Ragtime� burst onto the stage of the White Plains Performing Arts Center last weekend in an all-too-brief “Broadway in Concert� run of the epic musical about turn-of-the-20th-century New York.

It was the first such concert version offered by the newly imagined theater in the City Center mall in downtown White Plains and it clearly demonstrated that executive director Jack Batman is setting the bar high for his new enterprise. While there were a few technical missteps, the format holds the promise for some exceptional evenings to come in White Plains.

“Ragtime� covers more ground than can be adequately described here. In a nutshell, it tells three intertwined stories:
There’s the New Rochelle WASP family where Mother (the wondrous Farah Alvin) yearns for more and Father (the appropriately rigid Patrick Porter) craves the predictability of the status quo;

There’s Harlem’s Coalhouse Walker Jr. (the amazing Jerry Dixon) and Sarah (the fine Rosena M. Hill) who seek a hopeful future for their son, but encounter nothing but tragedy and pain;

And there’s Tateh (the affecting David Villella), an immigrant who seeks success and finds it after much hardship.
The book for “Ragtime� is by Terrence McNally (“Love! Valour! Compassion!�), based on E.L. Doctorow’s 1975 novel. The music is by Stephen Flaherty, with lyrics by Lynn Ahrens — the same team behind “Once on This Island� and “Seussical.�

Flaherty and Ahrens were in the crowd at Friday’s opening, as was actor Mario Cantone (“Sex and the City�) and Kleban-award-winning lyricists Felicia Needleman and Laurence Holzman.

What they — and those lucky to have a ticket — saw was a first-rate staged concert version of a far-reaching musical.

Unlike other concert versions — including the well-known “Encores!� at that other City Center, in Manhattan, director Sidney J. Burgoyne’s cast memorized the show: No scripts were visible.

For his set, Burgoyne employed two on-stage baby grand pianos (played with gusto by musical director James Bassi and Steven Gross and, once, by Dixon as Coalhouse), a raised walkway and three sets of stairs, with images projected onto a large screen to help set the scene.

The only opening night glitches were technical in nature: The projections proved a bit finicky and some of the body mikes crackled annoyingly. These are easily remedied and failed to hold back an otherwise first-rate production.

Trying to explain a show as large as “Ragtime� is like trying to explain a Mozart opera or even a “Seinfeld� episode. But there were some indelible performances and stage moments that are noteworthy.

Standouts were Alvin as Mother and Dixon as Coalhouse, two characters who seek fulfillment and the promise of a different kind of music, metaphorically and actually. (These roles were played on Broadway by Marin Mazzie and Brian Stokes Mitchell, who would later team up as Lilli/Kate and Fred/Petruchio in “Kiss Me, Kate.�)

Alvin is an actress of considerable talent, never out of character, always in control.

Her voice was well-suited to her several solos, from the sweet “Goodbye, My Love� in which she bids farewell to her explorer husband to “Back to Before,� when she declares her newfound voice will not be silenced again. Her duet with Villella as Tateh, “Our Children,� was as unapologetically sentimental as they come.

Alvin’s performance was subtle, charming and fully realized. And, because this was a concert version — without sets and with just the hint of costume — it was pure theater: an actress and her craft.

Equally powerful, as the tragic figure Coalhouse, was Jerry Dixon, who will direct a mainstage production of “Ain’t Misbehavin’� at WPPAC later this month.

Dixon’s rich baritone and command of the role gave Coalhouse everything he needed.

His first encounter with his infant son was a riveting mix of confusion, pride and honesty that was mesmerizing. And the scene where Coalhouse gives the Westchesterites their first taste of ragtime piano was a thing of beauty: The household was rapt, as was the audience.

Over the course of the evening, Dixon transformed Coalhouse from a man whose Model T Ford gave him hope (“Wheels of a Dream�) to a vengeful seeker of justice (“Coalhouse’s Soliloquy�) to a doomed figure concerned about the legacy he’ll leave his son (“Make Them Hear You�). In all, Dixon was believable and unforgettable.

Other notables:

• Patricia Noonan as historical figure Evelyn Nesbit — the “girl on the red velvet swing� — whose trademark “Wheeeee!� went from bubbly to faded over the course of the evening. (An actress who can get mileage out of the word “Wheeeee!� is one to watch.)

• Hill, as Sarah, the role that won Audra McDonald a Tony Award. Her solo, “Your Daddy’s Son,� was a lovely lullaby to lost love, well-sung.

• Villella as Tateh, optimistic as he arrives in America, then spewing bitter words when he is trapped in a go-nowhere job at a loom and, later, changed, as an optimistic entrepreneur. In all, a flesh-and-blood character.

Producer Batman has hinted that if the audience is there for a series of concert-version performances, he might develop one.

Memo to Batman: The audience is waiting. Let the concert series begin.

PHOTOS (By Carlos Gustavo Monroy)
Top: Jerry Dixon plays Coalhouse Walker Jr.
Middle: Farah Alvin as Mother, Zach Landes as Little Boy, Patrick Porter as Father and Brian Charles Rooney as Mother’s Younger Brother.
Bottom: David Villella as Tateh and Mikie Joy Sakanaka as Little Girl.

In the crowd
Composer Stephen Flaherty and lyricist Lynn Ahrens came to the White Plains Performing Arts Center on Friday to see two old friends. The first was their creation — “Ragtime.� The second was Jerry Dixon, who played Coalhouse Walker Jr.

“He was our leading man in ‘Once on This Island’ on Broadway, a spectacular voice,� said Flaherty. “And soon he’ll be directing. He’s a real renaissance man.�

Flaherty said the WPPAC production of “Ragtime� reminded him of the way he and Ahrens developed the musical.

“It’s great, this two-piano version,� he said, “because that’s how we did all our readings and workshops.�

Ahrens said the musical, which got a lavish production on Broadway — complete with a Model T. Ford and fireworks — has found life on a smaller scale in subsequent productions.

“They do it small,� she said. “We’ve seen it once or twice like this, and it’s really wonderful. Wonderful voices, a beautiful production, so simple, spare and smart.�

Next: “Ain’t Misbehavin’�
Where: White Plains Performing Arts Center, City Center mall, Main Street at Mamaroneck Avenue, White Plains.
When: Feb. 28 to March 16.
Tickets: $40 to $50.
Call: 914-328-1600.
Web: www.wppac.com.

“Murderers” — Jeffrey Hatcher’s wickedly clever play about three killers in a Florida retirement community — is a fine way to kick off a new era at Mamaroneck’s intimate Emelin Theatre.

First, it’s a new work, not the tried-and-true works which had been the bulk of the theater’s schedule in recent years.

Second, it shows off new artistic director Michael Bush’s insider status in the theater community. Bush, who directed the show, which runs through Feb. 10, clearly can parlay his considerable Rolodex into a first-rate production.

Third, it’s just a really fun night out.

“Murderers” runs just under two hours with no intermission, which would seem an eternity if Hatcher’s crackling writing didn’t fill the stage with strange yet recognizable characters.

It is told in three monologues – “The Man Who Married His Mother-in-Law,” “Margaret Faydle Comes to Town,” and “Match Wits with Minka Lupino” – delivered at the Emelin by Brent Langdon, Jennifer Harmon and Robin Skye.

The actors share the stage only for the play’s first 12 lines – and at the curtain call. Otherwise, they’re on their own as they recount the events that unfolded at Florida’s Riddle Key Luxury Senior Retirement Living Center and Golf Course: How they became murderers.

Forty-minute monologues might not sound like the stuff dreams are made of, but the play seems to fly by without prompting a glance at your watch. By the time you look up, you’ll have spent two hours with dozens of interesting people brought to life by talented actors.

Bush was involved in the development of “Murderers” with playwright Hatcher and directed it in Philadelphia in 2006. This production started at Pittsburgh’s City Theatre before transferring to the Emelin.

Local audiences might recall that Briarcliff’s Hudson Stage Company mounted an outstanding production of “Murderers” in the fall. That cast – Matthew Arkin, Lucy Martin and Andrea Gallo, under the direction of Dan Foster – delivered on every nuance of Hatcher’s script in performances that seemed effortless and comfortable.

That is less the case at the Emelin – at times, the acting is evident – but the production is still strong.

First up is Brent Langdon as Gerald Halverson, in smoking jacket and slippers (and later, tuxedo), who delivers his monologue with a full command of the stage and a twinkle in his eye. Langdon is a fine mimic and breathes life into a wide array of characters, from a Florida gigolo to the hardworking Dr. Nagangupta, the only character to appear in all three monologues.

Next up is Jennifer Harmon as Lucy Stickler, who says she’s not a murderer yet, but she soon will be. That tantalizing detail is enough to make the audience sit up and take notice.

That is another strength of the play. We know at the outset that all are murderers; what we don’t know is how and why.

Harmon’s Lucy is a Southern belle, wronged by her man – and Margaret Faydle – and out for revenge. The lengths to which she’ll go might surprise some, but Harmon’s Lucy is charming, disarming and fully believable.

In Riddle Key, Lucy explains, cars have given way to golf carts and there’s a hierarchy of living accommodations that acts of a sort of conveyor belt to the funeral home: Villas are detached homes; condos are attached; then there are apartments and, finally, the senior center, which she calls “the dump chute to death.”

Hatcher’s writing is accessible and quite funny, as when Lucy describes her nemesis, Margaret Faydle, being surrounded at a party “by as many men as are ambulatory.”

Bush’s early involvement with the “Murderers” leads you to assume that his actors’ interpretations of the characters are as the playwright intended.

As Minka Lupino – the efficient Riddle Key administrative assistant cum avenging angel – Skye has an angry, rough edge that serves to makes her less sympathetic. She seems to be rattling off a speech, not reliving events from her life.

At Hudson Stage, Gallo played Minka as a mild-mannered, sweet, gentle soul, nibbling candies as she curled up with mysteries by her favorite author, J.G. Garland. She related her murders with a sweetness that was entirely at odds with her actions – and won us over.

(Think about that old chestnut “Arsenic & Old Lace” in which two old ladies sweetly send lonely men to the great beyond without an ounce of remorse, guile or venom. If they had been snarling, vengeful women, the comedy would have been diminished.)

Skye’s choice to play Minka that way is one actors are called on to make with the guidance of directors – and, to her credit, she runs with it.

The production values at the Emelin are first-rate.

Tony Ferrieri’s set is impressive: An imposing stucco wall with a wrought-iron-and-stained-glass gate that opens to reveal three completely different playing areas – a prison anteroom, a well-appointed condo and the Riddle Key administrative offices.

Traci Klainer’s lighting is varied, subtle and effective, creating pools of interest on the Emelin stage.

The costumes, by Karen Ann Ledger and Robert C.T. Steele, add much, particularly Harmon’s nightgown and final ensemble.

But the words are what matters here and Hatcher makes the most of every one.

His characters may have helped others meet their end, but Hatcher’s “Murderers” marks a strong beginning for the new Emelin.

‘Murderers’
Where: The Emelin Theatre, 153 Library Lane, Mamaroneck.
When: Through Feb. 10; 8 p.m. Thursdays through Saturdays; 3 p.m. Saturdays and Sundays. Official opening at 7 p.m. tomorrow.
Tickets: $32 matinee, $35 evening.
Call: 914-698-0098.
Web: www.emelin.org.

Photo: The cast of “Murderers” at Mamaroneck’s Emelin Theatre is, from left: Robin Skye, Brent Langdon and Jennifer Harmon. (Photo by Adrien Goulet)

“The Crucible” remains on high-school reading lists for a reason.

Arthur Miller’s 1953 drama – in which a handful of schoolgirls turn Salem, Mass., into a whirl of witchcraft accusations and confusion – is an allegory for a witch hunt of another kind: U.S. Sen. Joseph McCarthy’s Cold War hunt for Communists in the government and the arts in the early 1950s.

Reading the play is one thing; seeing it is quite another.

There are school productions – Archbishop Stepinac High School in White Plains and Blind Brook High School in Rye Brook both staged it last weekend – but with a cast of nearly 20, professional troupes rarely stage it, the economics being prohibitive.

(Richard Eyre’s 2002 Broadway production starred Liam Neeson and Laura Linney.)

Along comes the Schoolhouse Theater in Croton Falls, a group brave enough to stage the Miller work and solid enough to make it shine.

Under the sterling direction of Schoolhouse artistic director Pamela Moller Kareman, 19 actors breathe life into the work, turning it into an edge-of-the-seat evening of theater. Even if you’ve read it, especially if you’ve read it, you should not miss “The Crucible” at the Schoolhouse.

It is a gigantic undertaking, putting 19 actors on a tiny stage – and the devil is in the details.

Kareman’s ingenious staging turns even off-stage moments into a revelation.

John Pollard’s simple and effective scenic design employs a planked platform two steps up from stage level.

Kareman has her players sit in the wings in full view of the audience: the men in one long row lining the stage-right wall, the women in one long row lining the stage-left wall. The separation makes several points immediately.

There is a fundamental, religious rigidity to the division – two long rows separated by gender.

Actors awaiting their entrances sit as silent, ever-watchful witnesses to the play, as many sat silently during the McCarthy era. Waiting.

The raised playing area also creates the feel of a boxing ring, where people have to step up to do battle, to be heard.

At the center of the action is John Procter, played by the excellent Simon MacLean, who played Doc in “Crimes of the Heart” at the Schoolhouse last spring.

Procter, a man whose hands aren’t exactly clean but whose sense of right is clear, requires an actor who can deliver nuance and passion, who can translate silences into meaning and, at the end, deliver a fiery and impassioned cry for justice. MacLean is equal to it all, finding just the right mix of confusion, tenderness and rage.

Watch in the final 15 minutes as MacLean goes from a quiet moment with his wife, Elizabeth – Sarah Bennett in an affecting, touching portrayal – to resignation, to an explosive, wrenching howl that seems to tear him apart.

It is riveting and indelible, and must be seen to be appreciated. (Neeson, on Broadway, seemed all howl.)

Bennett, as Elizabeth, is resolute. Her wounded marriage has devolved into profound silences, which she and MacLean make the most of.

In the final scenes, Bennett’s tears say what she cannot. Love means not judging when you have every right to judge.

The production values at the Schoolhouse are exceptional and the intimacy of the venue puts the audience right in the middle of the action.

Pollard’s set is overhung with massive beams, which frame the action simply. There’s little adornment at all, with earthenware jugs and wooden bowls among the few props.

David Pentz’s lighting makes full use of an upstage scrim for the opening dance and the evening’s final stage picture. At times, the tiny stage is bathed in moonlight; other times, the glare of attention requires full light.

Kim Matela’s costumes also help to set the mood. Just bonnets and breeches, but they transport us immediately to Salem, Mass., 1692.

With a cast of 19 excellent actors and first-rate direction, it’s hard not to name names.

As Abigail Williams, the scorned woman whose accusations started the whole affair, Sherry Stregack is a cold, calculating, designing woman – just what the part requires. In the court scenes, she sits stoically as events unfold, but you can see the wheels turning in her head. You know it’s just a matter of time before she begins to spin the story her way.

The girls who follow Abigail – Lauren Currie Lewis, Stephanie Bayliss and Jennifer Hildner – are eerily adept at conveying menace with every shriek and glassy-eyed accusation.

Sari Caine, as Mary Warren – Procter’s servant – is rock solid even as she plays a jumble of nerves and adolescent insecurity.

Kevin Albert, as the Rev. John Hale, nimbly conveys his character’s emerging disgust with the proceedings. As events get under way, he’s “looking for proper signs of the devil.” By the end, he’s utterly bewildered, pleading for justice. Albert’s performance is pitch perfect.

John Tyrrell plays Giles Corey – the man who won’t name names – with a mix of homespun charm and a wild eye.

As the upstanding Rebecca Nurse, Salem’s matriarch, Terry Ashe-Croft is the calm at the center of the storm, making the most of economical acting choices. She’s a study of doing much while seeming to do little.

David Licht has the unenviable role of Deputy-Governor Danforth, who leads the court and whose reputation rests on the value of its judgments. Licht brings a gravitas to the role, a bearing becoming the part. He proves a worthy adversary to MacLean’s Procter, a compelling blend of certainty and blind justice.

Rather than presenting Danforth as a complete blowhard, Licht is able somehow to show the judge as a man who actively pursues his brand of justice, which is arrived at after political considerations. He works hard to come to the wrong decisions, it seems. It’s an interesting choice and one that makes the character eminently watchable.

When, during his questioning of Procter, Licht intones: “What way do you go, mister?” it’s positively chilling.

Still, this is Procter’s story and the final moment is his.

After three hours of tension, the final tableau reveals a man of principle at peace with his decision.

When the lights come up in the auditorium, they reveal an audience that has been moved by the experience, more than they might have by reading a book.

After all, seeing is believing.

“The Crucible”
Where: The Schoolhouse Theater, 3 Owens Road, Croton Falls.
When: Weekends through Dec. 9. Performances are at 8 p.m. Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays, and 4 p.m. Sundays.
Tickets: $25 on Thursdays and Fridays, and $29 on Saturdays and Sundays.
Call: 914-277-8477.
Web: www.schoolhousetheater.org
With: Walita, Lauren Currie Lewis, Keith Barber, Sherry Stregack, Stephanie Bayliss, Cheryl Orsini, Bruce Smolanoff, Jennifer Hildner, Sari Caine, Simon MacLean, John Tyrrell, Terry Ashe-Croft, Kevin Albert, Sarah Bennett, George Kareman, David Rigo, David Licht, David Olan, Virginia Barber.

In Lloyd Pace’s “Hong Kong,� having its premiere at Ossining’s Blueberry Pond Theatre Ensemble through Dec. 2, Philip Bradley is a white corporate attorney assigned to Hong Kong — a “foreign devil,� as the natives call them.

He’s surrounded by sharks, and not just the ones in the bay near his home.

There’s his manipulative wife, Anne, played by Elena Zazanis, who tells Philip that if he loses his job in Hong Kong — which is all but a certainty — he’ll lose her, too.

There’s Michael Kim, her lover, played by Dinh Q. Doan, who carries on his seduction under Philip’s nose.

And there’s Will Lehman (Michael C. O’Day), an up-and-coming partner in Philip’s firm, who wears his ambition like a badge of honor and will go to any length to get what he wants.

For his part, Philip, played by Nick Raio, is a sad sack, a man who is acted upon and doesn’t act. He’s Charlie Brown, convinced that the football will always be pulled out at the last minute. And he seems to be OK with that.

At least Charlie Brown had Lucy as a psychiatrist. Philip’s therapist doesn’t even speak the same language.

Is it any wonder he’d rather spend his days in the park, where he meets Will’s wife, Patty, played by Catherine Nastasi?

Patty, stuck in an equally dysfunctional marriage, is seduced by her new surroundings.

“Hong Kong� has a lot to say about love, loss and ambition, and it says it all in rapid-fire fashion.

Pace’s characters ping-pong lines back and forth, scarcely waiting for them to land before moving on to the next thought. People don’t listen to each other much in “Hong Kong.� They’re too consumed by the pursuit of their own happiness, even if it comes at the expense of others.

Pace has structured “Hong Kong� cinematically, with what seem like dozens of quick scenes, each preceded by the sound of a gong. As the evening goes on, the fast-paced chatter and the repeated gongs become a swirl of sound and dialogue that makes one wonder if this isn’t all something Philip is dreaming while in therapy or sitting in the park.

There is a film-noir quality to their speech, a certainty to these characters that makes it possible for them to declare “Good people don’t make it� and “It’s never a sin to love� without an ounce of irony.

Having established that tone, director Forest Hamilton, the new artistic director at Blueberry Pond, has Judy W. Chen pull the show in a different direction.

It is Chen who bangs the gong and Chen who embodies several mostly comic characters: She’s the bubbly cocktail waitress, a karaoke-singing bar patron, the bullying boss with a piggish snout and a cowboy hat, a stewardess, a DMV clerk, and one of the girls used as a pawn in a game of seduction Anne plays with Michael.

Since she’s the person responsible for setting the scene, it twice falls to Chen to parade a toy plane across the stage to let the audience know that the action has moved to an airplane. It gets laughs and breaks the tension — and Chen, to her credit, is fully committed to everything she does and every character she plays — but it seems at odds with the rest of the show.

Later, Raio joins in on the frivolity, blurring the line even further.

The menace that hangs over the proceedings — you must keep your eyes open, with all the sharks — carries the day and Pace gives things a refreshing twist while resisting the urge to tie up all loose ends.

The production values at Blueberry Pond — in a 49-seat theater on Cedar Pond — are uneven.

The single set, designed by Hallie Flanagan Wolfe, is an effectively utilitarian mix of platforms and boxes, with a touch of Asian red. Melanie Smock’s lighting creates several playing areas to make the most of the tiny stage.

Sound designer Greg H. Hennigan’s effects are well-chosen but mistimed on occasion. A scene at the beach was well under way when we began to hear the waves.

Things are different in “Hong Kong.� Even love is different in “Hong Kong.�
When Patty finds herself captivated by Michael, there’s this exchange:

Patty: “I don’t trust you, Michael.�

Michael: “That’s how you can be sure it’s love.�

Some might love “Hong Kong.� Some might not.

Love it or not, Blueberry Pond audiences are the first to see this brand-new play.

And there’s something to be said for that.

PHOTO: Nick Raio and Judy W. Chen star in the world premiere of Lloyd Pace’s “Hong Kong” at Blueberry Pond Theatre Ensemble in Ossining. (Photo by Paul J. Magliari)

‘Hong Kong’

Where: Blueberry Pond Theatre Ensemble, 235 Cedar Lane, Ossining
When: Today through Dec. 2. 8 p.m. Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays; 2 p.m. Saturdays and Sundays. No performance on Thanksgiving Day.
Tickets: $30; $25 for seniors, students and military
Call: 877-FOR-4TIX
Web tickets: www.SmartTIX.com
Theater Web site: www.blueberrypond.org

“Little Shop of Horrors,” now getting a fine, fun revival at Westchester Broadway Theatre in Elmsford, is a Faustian tale.

Seymour Krelborn, a put-upon floor-mopper in a flower shop, finds a “strange and interesting plant” after a total eclipse of the sun and, suddenly, things begin to turn around at 1313 Skid Row.

Customers come. Newspaper and television reporters clamber for interviews. Even his big crush, Audrey, takes notice.

Of course, there’s a hitch. Success comes with a price. The plant has a taste for blood. Human blood.

What’s a nebbish to do?

If you think you know the answer because you’ve seen Frank Oz’s 1986 movie, think again.

Things are darker in the stage version of Howard Ashman and Alan Menken’s remake of the 1964 Roger Corman b-movie. Things are closer to Corman than the later Hollywood effort.

Director Patricia Wilcox, who led last season’s “Aida” at WBT, has a firm grasp on the pacing and mood of the musical – and works with a first-rate cast.

As Audrey, Julie Connors brings flexibility and a rock-solid believability to a character with serious self-image problems. Her timing is impeccable, her voice strong.

Her Act 1 solo on the ballad “Somewhere That’s Green” is heartfelt, sweet and affecting. In Act II, she belts the duet “Suddenly, Seymour,” showcasing a powerful voice.

As Seymour, Eric Santagata is slightly less compelling, choosing a voice that sounds like it comes from Adam Sandler’s bag of tricks. His voice at times is overpowered by the five-piece pit band.

It’s a tough task, to make a nerdy character – someone people overlook – memorable and believable. While he and Connors connect and share the stage well, when Santagata has the stage to himself, the action tends to droop a bit.

As Mushnik, Bob Arnold – a WBT regular, last seen as Moonface Martin in “Anything Goes” – seems to find and lose his accent, alternating between Yiddish and Russian. But his characterization is otherwise strong.

Gary Lynch impresses in several parts, large and small. The program lists him as playing “Orin, Bernstein, Snip, Luce and Everyone Else.”

He plays the evil Orin Scrivello, D.D.S., an NBC executive, an editor’s wife a la Dame Edna, a hipster radio guy, a William Morris agent, a cowboy entrepreneur and a button-down flower-shop customer. He makes the most of each part, particularly as the laughing-gas addict Orin, conjuring up Jim Belushi at his most madcap.

The street urchins – Ronnette (Jalynn Steele), Chiffon(Talana Deshaies) and Crystal (Kimberly Hamby), named for three ‘60s girl groups – are in fine voice, even when they obscured by an overactive (and unnecessary) fog effect in the opening title song.

But when the fog cleared, there was plenty to like about director Wilcox’s take on the show that launched the career of Menken, a New Rochelle native.

No review of “Little Shop” would be complete without a mention of Audrey II, the man-eating plant at the center of the action.

Voiced by Terri White – credited as the only woman to play that role in a professional production – and operated by Bill Diamond, Audrey II is a fully realized member of the ensemble, and a creepy one at that.

Gail Baldoni’s costumes are perfect, the set by George Puello and Steven Loftus is suitably Skid Row and Gerard Kelly’s hair and wig designs add to the production’s polish.

The story has had several incarnations through the years, beginning with Roger Corman’s 1960 cult classic, “The Little Shop of Horrors,” which included a 23-year-old Jack Nicholson as a man who loved the dentist’s chair.

Then came Ashman and Menken’s musical adaptation, which opened at Off-Broadway on May 6, 1982, and transferred to the Orpheum Theater, where it ran for more than 2,200 performances.

Oz’s 1986 movie musical starred Rick Moranis as Seymour and Ellen Greene as Audrey. Bill Murray made the most of the Nicholson part, a role that doesn’t appear in the stage show.

“Little Shop” made it to Broadway in 2003, with Hunter Foster as Seymour and Kerry Butler as Audrey. (Butler now stars in the unexpected Broadway smash “Xanadu.”)

The key to the show’s appeal is the music – a bouncy, catchy mix of rock, doo-wop and Motown with music by Menken and wonderfully clever lyrics by Ashman, who died in 1991.

When Orin, the evil dentist, gets trapped in his laughing-gas helmet, he asks Seymour to help him:

“Though I giggle and I chortle,

Bear in mind I’m not immortal.”

“Little Shop” is a cautionary tale, but one with great heart and songs you’ll leave the theater humming.

If the ending isn’t rosy, well, what Faustian tale ends happily?

(Photo of Julie Conners as Audrey, by John Vecchiolla.)

Watching “Tour de Farce,” the newest production in the 30th-anniversary season at Penguin Rep in Stony Point, there are times when you might not believe your eyes.

The door-slamming farce – written by Philip LaZebnik and Kingsley Day and directed by James Glossman – stars Ames Adamson and Liz Zazzi, who change characters at the drop of a hat, sometimes by dropping a hat.

The speed at which they achieve the costume and character changes is dizzying. At times, there were gasps and murmurs of “How’d they do that?” from the Penguin Rep audience. One wonders if there isn’t an equally entertaining show going on backstage.

Director Glossman has plenty of tricks up his sleeve, from hidden exits to a team of backstage co-conspirators helping Adamson and Zazzi in and out of costume.

Over the course of a brisk two hours, Adamson plays a dimwitted bellhop, a clueless author, a philandering senator, a Swedish cameraman and a character we won’t reveal here.

Zazzi plays the clueless author’s embittered wife, a hard-charging telejournalist, a thieving maid, an ambitious hooker and a singing nun complete with accordion.

Don’t show up at the charming barn on Crickettown Road expecting Ibsen. Ibsen it ain’t. What it is is a thoroughly entertaining diversion for a late-summer night.

Set designer Ken Larson meets the key requirement of farce: The set has four doors to slam. Both actors make the most of the doors and their handful of characters, which are definitely a handful: They shift accents, change walks and slip from one perfect Patricia Doherty costume into another.

In the process, they fill the stage with believable characters who may have you convinced that there are 10 people in the cast.

Adamson’s exasperated author gets one of the night’s biggest laughs when he cries: “I want to take my shower. I’m getting tired of changing my clothes all the time.”

The backstage dressers are so vital to the success of “Tour de Farce” that they are brought out during a curtain call that is worth the price of admission. The dressers are Jillian Greenstein, Matt Hill, Linda Perez, Linda Rosen, and Andrew Trow.

Precisely choreographed down to the final note of the “William Tell” overture, the curtain call lets Adamson and Zazzi take their bows as each character – amid a breakneck flurry of changes.

Their final bows come in terry cloth robes, which look ideal for a rest.

They’ve earned it.

(Photo by Andrew Horn)

I took in Hudson Valley Shakespeare Festival’s Western-themed “As You Like It” on Saturday’s opening night.

As much as Kurt Rhoads is missed under the tent as an actor, his attention to detail are still felt as director of “As You Like It,” mining Shakespeare’s lighthearted romantic comedy for plenty of laughs, love and song.

The exceptional Joey Parsons is Rosalind to Noel Vélez’s pitch-perfect Orlando. (Photo by Walter Garshagen).

The curtain call, set to Elmer Bernstein’s theme from “The Magnificent Seven,” sent people bounding into the night, wary of wandering skunks (about which the wondrous Nance Williamson, as Jaques, ad-libbed) but happy for a happy ending.

I’ll have my review on Friday, but suffice it to say: You’ll have a ball.

Speaking of balls, one of the Shakespeare Festival’s mini-traditions is that the cast warms up by playing hackeysack. One boy, watching the goings on, wished he had a hackeysack. His enterprising adult companion — must have been his dad — slipped off his shoe, removed his sock and rolled it into a ball.

Instant hackeysack.

You gotta love a dad who can make that work.

As sure a sign of summer as Friday traffic jams on the TZ and corn on the cob in supermarkets, the Hudson Valley Shakespeare Festival is back for another season. First up is “Richard III,” starring the magnetic Chris Edwards as the villain of villains. Read my review here.

I happen to love the Big Apple Circus. It’s small enough to be family friendly, doesn’t have too many animals and puts a premium on clowning and acts of daring and physical strength. Read my review here.