Inhabiting the Ark, Signature's smaller and cozier theater, the musical centers on the return of said black sheep, Jacques (Michael Minarik), to his French-Canadian family. Hoping to recapture a more innocent time, the globe-trotting photographer aims to rekindle an old flame, Laurie (Carrie A. Johnson).

Jacques, however, focuses more on his godson and nephew, Bibi (Jace Casey), a boy teetering on the cusp of adolescence whose changing voice has made him the target of schoolyard bullies. Jacques wants to show Bibi the world, starting by whisking him backstage at a burlesque show and getting the boy drunk and, later, aiming to take the boy to faraway photo shoots.

Fortunately, Arena Stage's current production of Arthur Miller's "A View From the Bridge" is proof that there's still some solid theater left out there — and without even one dance number or first-act, curtain-closing tune.

Set in a tight-knit, working-class Italian community in Brooklyn in the 1950s, the play tells the story of longshoreman Eddie Carbone's (Delaney Williams) unhealthy obsession with his orphaned niece Catherine's (Virginia Kull) transition into womanhood.

But that's not what this "Intimate Evening With Lynda Carter" is about.

Before she was Miss World USA or wearing satin tights fighting for our rights as television's Wonder Woman, Carter was well-known on the club circuit as a singer.

She also spent much of her youth touring with various bands until she traded life on the road for the role of a leading lady. So Carter's latest journey back to the stage isn't uncharted territory by any means.

No.

With a working Internet connection, one may spend the better part of a day watching livlier incarnations of the group at home, gratis.

Nevertheless, there is something to be said for seeing one's heroes in the flesh and the Kids' enthusiastic fans at the Warner Theatre on Saturday likely screamed, applauded and laughed more than they would have if they'd stayed in since comedy is best experienced with others.

Still, that enthusiasm wasn't enough to push the Kids' routine playtime into an all-out chucklefest.

The show itself is a ripped-from-the-headlines comedy review. Like The Daily Show. but onstage. And not scripted.

» BlackRock Center for the Arts, 12901 Town Commons Drive, Germantown; Sat., 8 p.m., $13; 301.528.2260.

Although his look is more bloke than bird for "Stripped" (his first tour in five years), he remains the go-to comedian for giving your attention span a workout. Not to mention your liberal arts degree: much of his material references Europe — "where the history comes from" as he drily noted in "Dress To Kill."

That 1998 show also provided his signature catchphrase "Cake or death?" as part of a routine about religious fundamentalism and the Church of England. (It's pointless to summarize; just watch it in full context on YouTube.)

WE'RE TAUGHT HELL IS AWFUL and we should do everything we can to avoid it. But if there are demons there as fabulously entertaining as C.S. Lewis' Screwtape, damnation might be downright illuminating.

New York City's Fellowship for the Performing Arts' staging of "The Screwtape Letters" adapts Lewis' satirical Christian apologetic, in the original version told entirely as a one-sided correspondence from senior demon Screwtape to his nephew. Frankly, the book doesn't have a whole lot to watch, which makes Max McLean's casting as Screwtape essential to why the production works.

As Screwtape guides his nephew through turning his "patient" toward sin, McLean progresses from a slightly ornery professor-type to a slickly evil powder-keg of rage. It's a thoroughly engrossing transformation, humorous and a little frightening. And the more exasperated Screwtape becomes, the more McLean shine.

CORRESPONDENCE BETWEEN COMPLETE STRANGERS can result in either well-matched couples or crushing disappointment, as many Match.com users can attest.

Seamstress Esther Mills (Deidra LaWan Starnes) learns the difference the hard way in Lynn Nottage's "Intimate Apparel," currently staged by African Continuum Theatre Company. Set in 1905 Manhattan, the play examines the realities of love through a filter of race and gender.

Esther pins her hopes on letters from George (Zuanna Sherman), a lonely man who writes her while working on the Panama Canal. A designer of the titular and titillating category of garment, the African-American Esther befriends clients ranging from an unhappily married white socialite (Susan Lynskey) to a gin-swilling black prostitute (Annette Grevious).

The Shakespeare Theatre's production will play in repertory with that other spicy political drama "Julius Caesar."

» Shakespeare Theatre, 610 F Street NW; 7:30 p.m, $39-$56; 202-547-1122. (Gallery Place)

THERE WAS no Ryan Seacrest shoving microphones in people's faces to ask how they feel about George Clooney, no Gary Busey to lick a young starlet's neck.

But Washington's most talented last night still managed to provide a tasteful and glamorous evening at the city's biggest annual awards show, the Helen Hayes Awards, honoring the local theater scene.

The evening began with attendees huddled in the lobby of the Warner Theatre, straining for a glimpse of friends or Sir Derek Jacobi, who was to be honored as this year's Helen Hayes tribute.

Eventually, the tux-and-gown-clad crowd poured into the theater, at which point I realized that we would be sitting very close to the stage, amongst the nominees. Fun! And lots of screaming.

Which brings me to my first observation: The D.C. theater crowd is very supportive of each other. It's nice. I have to wonder, though, if there's some sort of seedy underbelly, and the actors were secretly sticking forks into the backs of their hands as they whooped for their colleagues. Oh, you know it happens.

But yes, it was a night to celebrate D.C. theater. And one of the evening's early awards kicked off an amusing trend: The myriad ways presenters pronounced Synetic Theater's Paata and Irina Tsikurishvili (hey, you try it). Despite having lots of practice — the dynamic movement-based troupe garnered like a billion nominations and almost as many wins — I don't think anyone ever really got it right.