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SILENT SKY One of the cardinal sins in playwriting is allowing the audience to get too far ahead of the story. Fri., April 29, 8 p.m.; Sat., April 30, 8 p.m.; Fri., May 6, 8 p.m.; Sat., May 7, 8 p.m. Colette Kilroy and Amelia White lend fine support as the heroine’s closet-suffragette computer cohorts, and Nick Toren is suitably spineless as the romantic interest who is both smitten by Henrietta’s rebellious wit and threatened by her superior intellectual ability. (Bill Raden). Thursdays-Saturdays, 8 p.m.; Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Sundays, 7:30 p.m.; Saturdays, 2:30 p.m.; Sundays, 2:30 p.m. The play presents her as a poet and frustrated dreamer whose determination to circumvent the unseen Pickering during her off-hours condemns her to spinsterhood but results in “Leavitt’s Law,” the critical astronomical yardstick that would enable later scientists to fix our place in the limitless expanse of the cosmos. All that moving spectacle can do little, however, to help the overly familiar text catch up to an audience left waiting at the final blackout for the work to add up to something greater than the sum of its wiki facts. Los Angeles Theatre Center, 514 S. Continues through May 1. So it is with playwright Lauren Gunderson’s feminist-flavored rehabilitation of pre-World War I Harvard astronomer Henrietta Leavitt (Monette Magrath) in this harmless and anodyne commission by South Coast Rep, now playing on its main stage. Produced by Latino Theater Company. Spring St., L.A., (866) 811-4111, thelatc.org. South Coast Repertory, 655 Town Center Dr., Costa Mesa, (714) 708-5555, scr.org.Still Life: Workshop performance of Harry Clark’s play with music. Costumer David Kay Mickelsen contributes meticulous period detail to director Anne Justine D’Zmura’s sleek production, while York Kennedy’s lights and John Crawford’s projections animate the evening firmament spinning above John Iacovelli’s spare, rotating turntable set. Any but the tautest of grips on the narrative leash will exact its toll in attenuated tension and let loose the dogs of boredom. In real life, Leavitt was one of Harvard astronomer Edward Charles Pickering’s all-women “human computers” engaged in number-crunching drudgery while actual telescope time was reserved as a bastion of male privilege.

(Rebecca Haithcoat). The real shame, in fact, is that Martin’s performance as the mentally clouded yet still feisty Bella is stranded in this production. (“You encouraged him to design clothes [and] try ‘em on,” Cornelius berates his wife.) Their youngest, kinda sneaky, kinda sweet son (Daniel Billet) is home (after losing another job) with a similarly out-of-work girlfriend (Virginia Newcomb). The play, Williams’ last, isn’t his best; soliloquies directed at the audience weaken the action and disrupt the script’s flow. But in not clearly revealing the kind of seminal Williams-esque conflict between a deep well of despair and the near-instinctual impulse to hide anything unpleasant, director Simon Levy has ignored the desperate sadness here, turning the play into a carnival of caricatures. Continues through May 22, $25-$35; $18 students. Tennessee Williams always saved his best for his women, and Martin more than does him justice. Thursdays-Saturdays, 8 p.m.; Sundays, 2 p.m. Fortunately, Lisa Richards, a cougar before the term even existed, soft-pedals her approach as a nosy neighbor, and her scene near the end with Bella is the first in the production that intrigues. A HOUSE NOT MEANT TO STAND Empty butterscotch wrappers scattered on a cheap coffee table, an afghan in shades of brown clutching a grubby couch, an old Christmas-themed popcorn tin catching one of the ceiling’s countless leaks — Misty Carlisle’s prop design is so on-target, if she isn’t from the South, she must have spent summers there. Yet her efforts, and Jeff McLaughlin’s picture-perfect set, can’t save the soul of this production of Tennessee Williams’ tragicomedy. The premise is dyed-in-the-wool Williams: Hard-driving father Cornelius (Alan Blumenfeld) and his regressed-from-depression wife, Bella (Sandy Martin), arrive home from burying their gay son in Memphis. Fountain Theatre, 5060 Fountain Ave., L.A., (323) 663-1525, fountaintheatre.com.

Saturdays, 8 p.m. Matthew Nouriel, does a riotously funny take on Sara Woodruff, from the French Lieutenant’s Woman (complete with the foggy backdrop), and then does an even funnier version set in a Muslim country with all the customary restraints. (Lovell Estell III). This reviewer is a big fan and has seen all of the movies selected (which helps in appreciating the saucy humor on display), although even if you’re not familiar with Streep’s work, Streep Tease offers lot of fun and laughs. Donovan. Miranda Priestly from The Devil Wears Prada is brought to life by Cruz, who does a wickedly bitchy turn salted with just the right tinge of icy detachment. In addition to the performances, Cruz picks audience members to participate in a contest to test their “Streep Wise,” worthiness, with a gift going to the winner. The show uses seven male actors who perform monologues from a sampling of Streep’s oeuvre. Fairfax Ave., L.A., (323) 653-6886, bangstudio.com. GO STREEP TEASE If you’re a fan of Meryl Streep you’ll like director Ezra Weisz’s campy homage to the academy award winning actress. The show debuted two years ago and is the brainchild of stand-up comedian Roy Cruz, who has added a few tweaks without altering any of its ticklish appeal. And who could forget the nun from hell, the bossy, fussy bullying Sister Aloysius Beauvier from Doubt, here fully realized with knuckle-busting ruler, two rosaries and bonnet, by Bryan T. Bang, 457 N.

It’s all pleasant, but the show is held back by the homogeneity of the songs, in both John Kavanaugh’s music and Gregory Nabours’ musical direction, which takes five strong voices and molds them all to the same Broadway bombast. HAVING IT ALL At Gate B26 in an airport convincingly designed by Stephen Gifford, five women sit judging each other’s clothing. The entrance of a country girl in awkward heels (Kim Huber) provokes condescension; a hipster with crutches (Lindsey Alley) moves Warren to sneer she’s a “30-year-old yenta dressed up like the cast of Rent.” And when a dizzy hippie (the very funny Alet Taylor) bops in with her yoga mat, the ladies are aghast that she’s barefoot. Still, between snipes, each looks at the others and sighs, “How I’d love to be in her shoes.” The metaphor of footwear for femmepowerment is staler than the olives at Carrie Bradshaw’s fave martini bar, but at least David Goldsmith and Wendy Perelman’s well-intentioned musical about the hair-pulling pressure to “have it all” is blessed with a gifted cast, which Richard Israel directs with energy and bite. Continues through May 29. (Amy Nicholson). Thursdays-Saturdays, 8 p.m.; Sundays, 3 p.m. The ensemble sings numbers about motherhood, marriage, J-Date and downward-facing dog. The audience for the musical already knows everything it aims to say; it’s simply an excuse to rally a gang of girlfriends for a night at the theater, which seems to suit this production just fine. NoHo Arts Center, 11136 Magnolia Blvd., North Hollywood, (818) 508-7101, thenohoartscenter.com. The lady in Prada pumps (Jennifer Leigh Warren) assumes the woman in sneakers (Shannon Warne) must be an immature free spirit; the woman in sneakers is convinced that Prada pumps is a rotten mother.

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qLpNiLa_MsM&feature=youtube_gdata

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