THESE `BOWLERS' HAVE CLOWNING MOVES TO SPARE.

Byline: Evan Henerson Theater Critic

A COUPLE OF shabby clowns, best suited for each other's company, accidentally breach the boundaries of their black-and-white, silent-movie world and end up trapped in an empty theater. ``There's people out there,'' croaks Earnest Matters (played by Geoff Sobelle), realizing for the first time that he actually has a working voice. Compadre Wyatt R. Levine (Trey Lyford) speaks less and looks considerably more frightened.

``All wear bowlers,'' a kind of postmodern clown show created and performed by Lyford and Sobelle at the Kirk Douglas Theatre, is ``Waiting for Godot'' on Ritalin. But rather than staying put and hoping something befalls them, our hapless heroes make manic use of the time spent out of their arena, all the while trying desperately to escape from it.

By turns crazed, charming and even hostile (with the privilege of language comes the overuse of certain four-letter words), Earnest and Wyatt never lose our attention, even when they're the ones watching us via seats purloined from the audience, no less. ``Bowlers'' is a shambling demented delight.

The evening begins with a pair of bowler hats on the floor in front of a movie screen. It ends, some 70 minutes later, with the stage littered with papers, eggshells and spilled water. The side curtains have been ripped down, and stage equipment has been exposed. Wires are dangling, and a stage light has crashed to the floor, having been freed from its position by virtue of a gunshot. Are Earnest and Wyatt enjoying themselves? ``Deconstructing'' or literally bringing down the house is more like it.

Wyatt has a nervous habit of refluxing eggs out out of his mouth when agitated, while Earnest uses people's seats as walkways (even when people are sitting in them), and he gets an evil glint in his eye when he happens to have a mouthful of water. Borrowing from the comedians of silent screen (particularly in Tara Webb's costumes), the duo also owes a creative debt to ``Fool Moon'' clown David Shiner.

Within ``bowlers,'' we witness sleight of hand, body parts stretched to impossible lengths and plenty of eggs. Believing, at one point, that he has accidentally offed his buddy, Earnest employs Wyatt as a ventriloquist's dummy to rather chilling effect.

The film sequences are especially canny. Shortly after arriving in our world (Oops! How'd that happen?), the boys jump in and out of the picture - from black and white to color - even finding a way to take an audience member on the journey. It's a clever routine requiring expert entrance and exit timing. While the routine is made all the more convincing through Michael Glass' film design, it is by no means as easy as Lyford and Sobelle make it appear.

Clowning pairs often have one dominant and one submissive persona. Here the former is Sobelle - his hat giving him a bit of a Chico Marx air - who's a bit brutish to the slighter, manhandled Lyford. But whatever temporary fallings-out they may experience, the boys don't ever figure to part. In ``all wear bowlers,'' they are ultimately united in trying to negotiate - and ultimately flee from - the big bad Technicolor world.

And if they happen to take out a curtain and a few chairs on their way out the door, then so be it.

Evan Henerson, [phone]

evan.henerson(at)dailynews.com

ALL WEAR BOWLERS - Three and one half stars

Where: Kirk Douglas Theatre, 9820 Washington Blvd., Culver City.

When: 8 p.m. Tuesday through Friday, 2 and 8 p.m. Saturday, 2 and 7 p.m. Sunday; through Oct. 28.

Tickets: $20 to $40. [phone].

In a nutshell: A pair of clowns learn that life in the movies is infinitely safer.

CAPTION(S):

photo

Photo:

Trey Lyford, left, and Geoff Sobelle make ample use of eggs, both whole and cracked, as well as their signature hats as two clowns who escape silent movies in ``all wear bowlers.''