Children should not die. They most especially should not die at school, where they go to learn and to become responsible and properly socialized adults. And to die at the hands of a fellow student is almost beyond comprehension.

Jane Martin’s one-act Good Boys explores the questions of responsibility, guilt, blame and racism from the point of view of two fathers – one black, one white – who have each lost a son in a school shooting reminiscent of Columbine.

James Erskine (Mike Sears), father of the shooter, has had no time to come to terms with the tragedy. Hounded by the press, involved in five lawsuits since his son Ethan (Jeremy Lelliott) took nine fellow students with him on that terrible day, James wishes only to escape and to be left alone.

But eight years after the fact, Thomas Thurman (Robert Barry Fleming) finds him. The father of Marcus (Sacha Allen), popular basketball player and the lone black victim, Thomas is a factory worker and minister who can no longer preach. He has not just a willingness, but a real need to forgive in order to move on.

They meet on a park bench – in fact, symbolically separate benches, when Thomas strikes up small talk and finds a common interest in baseball. James, at first grateful for trivial conversation, throws up a communication barrier when he finds out who Thomas is.

These men, with hurts too deep to heal but too crippling not to try, will grapple with each other and with their incomprehensible grief in the course of the evening.

James is predictably portrayed as a distant and emotionally absent father, quick to point out Ethan’s shortcomings, slow to praise him for his successes (zeroing in on what James considers a less-than-sterling SAT English score, ignoring the other extremely high scores, for example).

The pseudonymous playwright (he is rumored to be Jon Jory, former artistic director of the Actors Theatre of Louisville, though Jory denies it) brings in Ethan and Marcus in flashback to provide some measure of explanation.

Though Marcus and Ethan share an unexplained mutual animosity, illustrated in verbal insults and occasional punches thrown, nothing seems out of the ordinary for the age group. However, it is clear that Ethan blamed his father: “I want to be your central concern ... but if you fail me ... I will take arms against a sea of troubles and, by opposing, end them.”

But blame and guilt will not help anyone now. Thomas suggests asking forgiveness, and though James doesn’t even think he can absolve his son, Thomas knows better: “Man, you better had. You’re choking on it.”

The topic of Good Boys is horrifying, but alas timely and important. Sueko directs with a delicate but sure hand, keeping the tension high but never letting emotion take over.

She is blessed with a fine cast. Sears and Fleming are stunning in these most difficult but pivotal roles. Lelliott and Allen are convincing as the boys, and Johnny Ray Gill is fine in the small role of Marcus’ younger brother Corin, brought in at the end to turn the tide.

Mo’olelo Performing Arts Company’s production of Good Boys plays through June 14 at the Mandell Weiss Forum Studio at UCSD. Shows Friday and Saturday at 7:30 p.m.; Sunday at 2:30 p.m. For tickets, call 619-342-7395 or visit www.moolelo.net.

“When did we all become savages?” asks Michael (Douglas Myers) near the end of Bad Night in a Men’s Room off Sunset Boulevard.

It seems to have happened very early in this theatrical family, at least to Michael’s parents, Esther (Marilyn Wolfe) and Jake (Dale Morris). When we drop in on them, they are middle-aged, broken people able to communicate with each other only with yelling, vicious invective or four-letter words.

Michael, who has had some success in Hollywood, is more lost little boy than savage, unable or afraid to sort out his sexuality.

Hard on the heels of Diversionary Theatre’s Hollywood satire The Little Dog Laughed comes a new play about actors, Ira Bateman-Gold’s Bad Night in a Men’s Room off Sunset Boulevard, playing through Sunday, June 28, at Compass Theatre and directed by J Marcus Newman.

The family gathers in the unnamed Podunk where Esther scrapes out a living directing community theater. Esther has cast her ex (or is it estranged, or perhaps just strange?) Jake and their movie star son Michael in an Irish play, hoping doing so will sell tickets. Unfortunately, Michael recently managed to get himself arrested for untoward acts committed in the titular men’s room, which is creating a kind of publicity Esther and her board don’t want. Also, Michael’s agent Morty (O.P. Hadlock) informs him he faces 90 days in jail after the run. Further complicating the story is Esther’s transvestite stage manager Jamie (Eduard Cao), who has never gotten over his high-school crush on Michael.

Commissioned by Compass as a salute to Gay Pride Month, Bateman-Gould gives us two of the least likable characters ever seen on one stage in this rather clumsy attempt to get at truth through theater.

It is difficult to work up much interest in or empathy for someone so determined to avoid self-awareness (Michael) or unwilling to get help for crippling emotional damage (Esther). Consistent anger and invective do not help. Jake is emotionally damaged as well, but has settled on a recognized medication – alcohol – to kill the pain.

The play ends with a glimmer of hope, but by that time it is lost in the four-letter-word forest, making it difficult to care.

Newman gets credit for keeping the play moving. Morris’ Jake is riveting to watch; Hadlock’s Morty is a close second. The very capable Wolfe does what she can with a thankless part and a character that doesn’t ring true. Myers has either been coached to play a bad actor or not to act at all; he mostly seems to stand around watching the others. Cao is fine as the transvestite Jamie.

Bad Night in a Men’s Room off Sunset Boulevard plays through Sunday, June 28, at Compass Theatre. Shows Thursday through Saturday at 8 p.m.; Sunday at 2 p.m. For tickets call 619-688-9210 or visit www.compasstheatre.com.

It’s a simple setup: two couples, one middle-aged and long married and one unmarried, have been booked for the same mountain cabin by an apparently inept realtor.

You and I know this can’t work. Even they know it can’t work. But the obvious solution would result in no show, so despite verbal barbs between the guys, playwrights Jeanne and Sam Bobrick have these total strangers decide to share the cabin in Weekend Comedy, playing through Sunday, June 21, at Broadway Theater in Vista. Jerry Pilato directs.

Frank (David Netteland) and Peggy (Natalie Sentz) have been married 23 years, though it’s difficult to see how. Frank is a relentlessly crude, obnoxious and inappropriate Archie Bunker type, but even less endearing than that well-known professional bigot. Peggy, for no apparent reason, has put up with this boor as if he were a naughty child, and has talked him into this weekend in hopes of rekindling romance with him. Go figure. Frank just hopes his normal routine won’t be too disrupted.

Frank and Peggy have been married almost as long as Tony (Timothy Benson) and Jill (Kristin Fogle) have been on this earth, and their youth shows. They are celebrating their third anniversary together and, like the young everywhere, can’t keep their hands off each other.

The kids are a lot richer than their elders, and have packed their fancy car with lots of French champagne and frozen (but gourmet) meals.

You can pretty much predict what follows: The kids want to walk hand-in-hand to the lake; Frank just wants some quality time to himself in the bathroom. (In a fit of uncharacteristic kindness, he has given the youngsters the bedroom with its easy access to the facilities.)

Generational differences are always good for a few laughs. Weekend Comedy mines a bunch of them, and these four capable actors play ’em for all they’re worth.

Weekend Comedy is a slight entry in the theatrical canon, but on a pleasant evening, given the problems we’ve been weighed down with for months, a little froth is a good thing.

Weekend Comedy plays through Sunday, June 21, at The Broadway Theater Vista. Shows Thursday through Saturday at 7:30 p.m.; matinées Saturday and Sunday at 2 p.m. For tickets, call 760-806-7905 or visit www.broadwayvista.com.