Rhett Butler may not have given a damn, but David O. Selznick did.

Three weeks into production of the classic film Gone With the Wind, producer Selznick sacked director George Cukor in favor of Victor Fleming (dragged off the set of that other 1939 classic, The Wizard of Oz) and brought in screenwriter Ben Hecht to fix Sidney Howard’s screenplay.

The fact that Hecht had not read the 1,000-plus page book was no problem; that Hecht only had five days to work the miracle was rather more serious.

Playwright Ron Hutchinson has gleaned information from written memoirs (especially those of Hecht) to craft this hilarious look at the little-known workings of the Hollywood illusion factory.

The play has only four characters: Selznick (Dan Castellaneta), Hecht (David Manis), Fleming (Tom McGowan) and Selznick’s overworked Judy Holliday-like secretary, Miss Poppenghul (Meagan Fay). They spend the play’s two-plus hours in Selznick’s sleek and spectacular office, designed by Alexander Dodge.

Selznick believed in getting the job done, but not necessarily in treating his employees well. To this end he has Miss Poppenghul bring in stalks of bananas and huge sacks of peanuts. That is their nourishment for the five days in question; by the second act, peanut shell mounds are all over the office and everyone is in danger of becoming the butt of the old banana peel joke.

Since Hecht lacks time to read the source material, Selznick and Fleming act out the plot, to hilarious effect. The portly Fleming plays Scarlett, Melanie and Prissy; Selznick plays everybody else. Meanwhile Hecht sits pounding on the typewriter (remember those?), knocking out what may be the world’s most famous script.

As the project nears completion, talk strays to other Hollywood topics, such as the age-old discussion about who is more important, the writer or the director.

“In the beginning was the word,” says Hecht.

“But it doesn’t get said unless some poor son of a bitch yells ‘Action!’” replies Fleming.

There are philosophical discussions about politics and Hollywood, and whether one should influence the other; and about whether people go to movies to see people like themselves or to see people different from them.

But mostly, this is about the madness and the magic that go into the films we flock to see. It may do violence to idealized notions of the art and science of filmmaking, but it’s a terrific show. Don’t miss it.

Moonlight and Magnolias plays through Aug. 14 at the Old Globe Theatre. Shows Sunday through Wednesday at 7:00 p.m.; Thursday through Saturday at 8:00 p.m.; matinees Saturday and Sunday at 2:00 p.m. For tickets, call (619) 23-GLOBE.

The Merchant of Venice is often slighted on performance schedules because of Shakespeare’s un-PC characterization of Shylock – the play is sometimes considered too downright insulting to deserve a place in the regular rotation of the bard’s plays.

More’s the pity, because some of Shakespeare’s loveliest writing is in this play about love, mercy and prejudice.

Poor Players Theatre presents one of the quirkier versions I’ve seen of this controversial play through Aug. 14 at the Academy of Performing Arts.

Richard Baird and Co. set the play in modern times – with jeans, cell phones and Portia (Beth Everhart) sunning herself in a bikini and with a belly button ring. There’s also a range of accents as wide as the Mississippi: Mission Beach, faux British and more or less standard English among them. Fast talking is epidemic.

The much-maligned Shylock gets a thoughtful reading from Baird, the company’s always-watchable artistic director. Though the Tevye accent sounds a tad extreme even amid the sea of accents here, his interpretation of the Jewish moneylender is not. Baird will break your heart with the pathos, seething anger and ultimate humiliation of the old moneylender, who loses first money and jewels, then his daughter, and ultimately even his religion.

The rest of the cast is variable. Everhart’s reading of Portia is strong, and she’s fine when she takes her time. But she has a tendency to rush her lines. John Tessmer’s Antonio is less likable than usually seen, his disdain for Shylock evident at 10 paces. Nick Kennedy (Bassanio), Sherri Allen (Nerissa), Jen Meyer (Jessica) and William Lacox (Lorenzo) are adequate, if not stunning.

You’ve got to admire the dedication of this troupe. Poor Players, operating in a dance studio at the Academy of Performing Arts without the benefit of a curtain or a set, benefit from the length and depth of the space, but also put up with no air conditioning, a noisy fan and occasional traffic going by. This is bare-bones theater.

But the play’s the thing, and even with fluffed light cues, dropped props and the interesting anomaly that this Shylock is tall and this Portia short, I’d go see anything Baird is in, or that he directs.

The Merchant of Venice plays through Aug. 14 at the Academy of Performing Arts, 4580-H Alvarado Canyon Rd. Shows Friday and Saturday at 8:00 p.m.; Sunday at 7:00 p.m. For tickets, call (619) 255-1401.