The cost of war is usually reported in measurable things – dollars, bodies. But those statistics don’t take into account war’s sinister, difficult-to-quantify effects on the lives and souls of the living.

Two unsettling plays are doing just that: Yussef El Guindi’s Back of the Throat and Quiara Alegría Hudes’ Elliot, A Soldier’s Fugue play in repertory through Saturday, April 17 at the new Hillcrest digs of the adventurous ion theatre.

Palestinian-American writer Khaled (the pronunciation of whose Arabic name gives the piece its title) opens his apartment door to two unknown and uninvited American agents. At first they seem cordial, almost friendly, but as older agent Bartlett (Walter Ritter) asks seemingly harmless questions, his partner Carl (Tom Hall) snoops around the apartment, opening drawers, rummaging through books – all without telling Khaled (Brian Abraham) why they’re there.

It’s unsettling enough if you “look American” – but given the wars the U.S. is now fighting, looking Middle Eastern is doubly risky, because regardless what anyone says, the memory of 9/11 remains in the back of every American’s mind.

Khaled mentions that he wants to help in the war on terror and would have volunteered as a translator except that he does not speak Arabic. Carl pulls a girlie magazine from under the bed; this one has a photo of a naked woman draped over a cow. Bartlett registers disapproval while admitting that Khaled “has the right” to read such material. They agree that almost anything could be interpreted negatively (though Bartlett still won’t tell Khaled what they’re looking for).

As the conversation goes on, Khaled becomes increasingly nervous (which Bartlett is quick to interpret as guilt). Finally Khaled says he wants an attorney and asks them to leave; Bartlett frowns and suggests that is not a good idea.

Sara Beth Morgan’s direction keeps the action taut and spare and the tension escalating until it’s almost too much for the audience (let alone Khaled) to bear.

This is an outstanding cast. Abraham, whose physical stature suggests he could flatten both Bartlett and Carl with little effort, uses voice inflection, tentative movements and gradually more cautious conversation to convey Khaled’s spiraling level of fear.

Ritter’s Bartlett is the kind of guy you don’t want to cross, not because he presents a physical threat but because each syllable contains veiled menace of another sort.

Hall’s young punk-in-a-suit demeanor contrasts with Ritter’s older, avuncular approach; you wouldn’t want to meet him in a dark alley.

Rhys Greene plays Asfoor, another immigrant who may have had dealings with Khaled and DeNae Steele plays a librarian, Khaled’s ex-girlfriend and a stripper in brief but telling scenes.

Back of the Throat presents a sobering, even frightening snapshot of the

unintended consequences of the Patriot Act and other “security” measures enacted since 9/11. Bartlett puts it this way: “What is more important: inconveniencing you with accusations of having broken the law or ensuring the safety of everyone?”

Egypt-born Seattle resident El Guindi may have given us the best post-9/11 play possible, as Back of the Throat invites us to consider what we are willing to give up in the name of security.

Nineteen-year-old Elliot (Steven Lone), a wounded warrior just back from Iraq and deciding whether to re-up, represents the third generation of Marines in his Puerto Rican family. Grandpop (Goyo Flores) served in Korea; Pop (John Padilla) in Vietnam, even mom Ginny (Miriam White) was a nurse in ‘Nam.

Though no one in the family wants Elliot to return to battle, they don’t mention it. War is a fact of life but not a topic of conversation. Nor are war stories shared: Pop has never even told his son about his military experiences.

Playwright Quiara Alegría Hudes’ Elliot, a Soldier’s Fugue is a tone poem about the experience or war and its effects on this family, done mostly in monologues with occasional fugue-like sections in which characters’ words call and respond and sometimes tumble over each other like a musical composition.

In fact, it is the musicality of the script as much as the content that is remarkable, as characters talk about the shock of the first kill, a reconnaissance mission for bodies, the lonely horror of being wounded.

But there are also gentler reflections: Ginny tells how she tried to make life more comfortable and bearable for the wounded; Grandpop reveals that he took his flute to Korea, where he played Bach “because it’s cold music, it is like math. You can approach it like a calculation.”

And since her return, Ginny has recreated a little bit of Puerto Rico in her Philadelphia garden, noting that “a seed is a contract with the future.”

It is not surprising that Hudes has degrees in both music and playwriting, nor that at 28 she was a Pulitzer Prize finalist for Elliot. She was shortlisted again in 2009 for the book of the Tony-winning musical In The Heights.

Elliot takes place on an appropriately spare set: two rectangular blocks to serve as beds and chairs, a backlit white curtain at the rear.

Sylvia Enrique directs this splendid cast with a sure hand. Lone deftly portrays the bravado and fear, young man’s excitement and adult soberness of Elliot’s transition from rookie to veteran warrior. This is his best work to date.

Padilla’s poignant portrayal of the war-weary Pop makes a good connection with us and with San Diego newcomer White as Ginny, whose nuanced performance impresses and whose gardening talk brings hope of renewal and redemption.

Flores projects the wisdom and dignity of Grandpop’s age and experience, as well as his underlying sadness.

It isn’t often that war and its aftermath are brought to us on such a human and personal level. These plays need to be seen by all.

Elliot, a Soldier’s Fugue plays Wednesday and Friday (with a 4 p.m. matinee on Saturday, April 17 in repertory with Back of the Throat (playing Thursday and Saturday; 4 p.m. matinee on Saturday, April 10) through Saturday, April 17, at ion theatre in Hillcrest. For tickets call 619-600-5020 or visit www.iontheatre.com.

Ah, French farce: the perfect antidote for bad economic news, lousy weather or any other unpleasantness that may be weighing you down.

Boeing-Boeing, written in the 1960s by Marc Camoletti and translated by Beverley Cross, ran for seven years in London before crossing the pond to Broadway failure in 1965. But a second production in 2008 was a great success, resulting in six Tony nominations and two wins.

Now the Old Globe gets into the act, presenting the play through April 18. Mark Schneider directs.

It’s a handsome production, taking place entirely in the expansive Paris apartment of architect Bernard (Rob Breckenridge). Scenic designer Rob Howell uses the entire width of the stage to get in the six requisite doors (seven, if you count the double front door), three huge hanging globes suspended above a circular rug of the same three colors.

But that’s where its charm ends. Let’s start with the plot, an impossible-to-care-about saga concerning that scoundrel of an architect Bernard, operating on the “if a little is good, more is better” principle and trying to juggle three airline attendant “fiancees” by making sure their flight schedules don’t collide. Breckenridge lacks the charisma and commanding presence that would make this notion even palatable, much less interesting.

Along as catalyst to make sure Bernard’s plans go awry is old college buddy Robert (Joseph Urla), a recent transplant to Paris and in search of both housing and wife, who gets dragged into the proceedings when he stays with Bernard for a few days. He’s the most human character in the show.

The women’s costumes (by Rob Howell, from the 2008 Broadway production) are conveniently color coded for us. Gloria (Liv Rooth, in bright red) is an impossibly upbeat American who loves to stand in A-line position; Gabriella (Stephanie Fieger), in bright blue, the typical hot-blooded Italian mamma; and yellow-clad, domineering Lufthansa stew Gretchen (Caralyn Kozlowski) may as well be wearing leather (you saw that one coming, right?).

Trying to deal with this annoying musical-beds game is French housekeeper Berthe (Nancy Robinette, so good in The Savannah Disputation), who unsurprisingly keeps threatening to quit, as does her French accent.

It’s not even the misogynist underpinnings of the plot that sink the show, nor that the line between exaggeration and grotesquerie is crossed far too often; it’s that the show is just not funny. French farces almost always involve sex with improper strangers, but involving the audience requires either sympathetic characters or funny lines, preferably both. Boeing-Boeing has neither. The women don’t even come together in this script. I’m sorry to say I didn’t laugh once.

But you know what? The audience loved it.

Boeing-Boeing plays through Sunday, April 18, at the Old Globe Theatre’s Donald and Darlene Shiley Stage. Shows Tuesday and Wednesday at 7 p.m.; Thursday and Friday at 8 p.m.; Saturday at 2 and 8 p.m.; Sunday at 2 and 7 p.m. For tickets call 619-234-5623 or visit www.theoldglobe.org.