Some plays you can’t ruin, at least not without effort. The Importance of Being Earnest is one of them.

I’ve seen the play numerous times, most memorably in a college production using a black-and-white palette and movable black and white boxes for sets. It worked wonderfully, as does Peter Hall’s traditional Theatre Royal Bath version, beautifully appointed and nicely costumed, at the Ahmanson Theatre through March 5.

This isn’t a flashy or even a colorful production, done as it is in muted tones, with garden flowers providing the accent colors. Hall seems to be inviting the audience to concentrate on Wilde’s sparkling script rather than trying to dazzle us with stagecraft.

Not without reason – this is arguably Wilde’s best script, possibly the most perfect of its type ever written, crammed as it is with great lines poking fun at everything about the Victorian age, including the class system, the frivolous nature of women (how else would you describe a woman who will only marry a man named Ernest?) and politics – not to mention the importance of earnestness as a virtue.

Frivolousness, in fact, is also the main characteristic of upper-crust Algernon Moncrieff (Robert Petkoff), illustrated by comments like: “I hate people who are not serious about meals.”

Algy and his friend Jack (James Waterston), from a more modest background, find themselves infatuated with Jack’s ward, Cecily (Charlotte Parry), and Algy’s cousin Gwendolen (Bianca Amato), respectively. All is well until Aunt Augusta, a.k.a. Lady Bracknell (Lynn Redgrave, resplendent in champagne taffeta and a billowy boa that she flings at appropriate intervals) finds out that Jack is, in fact, of less than modest background – he was found abandoned in a handbag in Victoria Station.

Silliness and romance ensue. The most amusing couple is Cecily’s tutor, Miss Prism (the redoubtable Miriam Margolyes), and the local vicar, Canon Chasuble (Terence Rigby), whose charming and tentative courting dance we are privileged to watch.

It’s a story of deception and frivolousness, money and cucumber sandwiches, appearance and mistaken identity, and – almost incidentally – love (or something that passes), the whole briskly paced and nicely if not spectacularly mounted. Redgrave tosses boa and lines with hilarious abandon, offering a rather more charming and less gorgon-like Lady Bracknell than is usually seen. The always memorable Margolyes outdoes herself here, in a part she was born to play, and Rigby is a suitable foil. The quartet of young lovers turn in solid performances, and the women are pretty.

Whatever else you may think about frivolousness, it’s hard to deny that it’s fun. As is this production.

The Importance of Being Earnest plays through March 5 at the Ahmanson Theatre in Los Angeles. Shows Tuesday through Saturday at 8:00 p.m.; Sunday at 7:30 p.m.; matinees Saturday and Sunday at 2:00 p.m. For tickets, call (213) 628-2772 or visit www.centertheatregroup.org.

To paraphrase a well-known ad, nobody doesn’t like Cirque du Soleil.

The little Canadian circus now has 11 different shows performing around the world, specializing in heart-stopping acrobatics, charming clown acts, impossible human pyramids, pretzel formations and feats of balance.

Cirque du Soleil’s “Quidam” is in extended run through Feb. 26 at the Del Mar fairgrounds.

Each animal-free Cirque show has a theme. “Quidam” is about Zoé, a little girl ignored by her parents, who enters a magical new world when the mysterious, headless Quidam (his name being a Latin word meaning anonymous passerby) gives her his blue bowler.

But this is a weirder, darker world than I associate with little girls’ fantasies. It includes a first-act gang of people in baggy white creations that look like anti-contamination suits, and second-act costumes darker still – gray, ugly and full of holes – suggesting war, holocaust or disaster. Not many little girls, I would wager, daydream about war or the end of the world. And the music doesn’t help; it’s either eerie and unnerving or just plain too loud.

To be sure, there’s also plenty of what Cirque fans go to see. Clowns Toto and Ambrose have major roles in this show, beginning in pre-show, as they jump into the audience to “help” seat patrons, steal popcorn and generally cause good-natured chaos. They return later for two funny interactive bits with volunteers from the audience.

“Quidam” also has its share of awe-inspiring physical feats. My favorite is the aerial contortion in silk, in which acrobat Anna Venizelos twists, turns and becomes one with a column of red silk suspended from the ceiling. It’s a stunning display of beauty and agility.

Four Chinese girls do a jaw-dropping yo-yo routine called diabolos, in which they toss large wooden spools back and forth. And Cirque’s version of individual and group rope jumping will make the double-rope games you may have played as a kid seem pretty tame.

There’s a banquine section involving 17 Slavic performers in an amazing array of acrobatics and human pyramids. And two performers (Jerome Le Baut and Asa Kubiak) do a spectacular “statue” routine, a sort of cross between gymnastics, yoga and dance, but in slow motion.

If the “plot” of “Quidam” lacks a certain logic, Cirque du Soleil is always worth seeing for the gee-whiz factor alone. See it and prepare to be astonished.

“Quidam” plays through Feb. 26 at the Del Mar Fairgrounds. Shows Tuesday through Saturday at 8:00 p.m.; matinees Saturday at 4:00 p.m. and Sunday at 1:00 and 5:00 p.m. For tickets, call (800) 678-5440 or visit www.cirquedusoleil.com.

Much Ado About Nothing is all about appearances, and so is Aquila Theatre’s production, on La Jolla Playhouse’s Potiker Theatre stage through Feb. 19.

Director Robert Richmond moves the action up a few centuries to the 1960s, sets it in the spy world of 007 and the Avengers, and adds a giant union jack as backdrop and a bright red Mini Cooper onstage et voilà. Oh, and I mustn’t forget the skin-tight black leather-look outfits Beatrice, Hero and Margaret get to wear.

It’s a mad, mod show, stylized within an inch of its life, forcing Shakespeare’s words to compete with the overwhelming production design. Will wins, but it’s a close call.

Much Ado About Nothing is aptly named. Though the play has a serious component, most of what takes place is silly. Most evident is the interaction between one of Shakespeare’s most memorable couples: the verbal sparring team of Beatrice and Benedick. The famous claim by acid-tongued Beatrice (Jessica Boevers), “I would rather hear a dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves me,” dissolves on the strength of romantic gossip floated by her greatly amused girlfriends.

“Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably,” notes Benedick (Anthony Cochrane), quick of tongue himself. But Benedick, too, is easily influenced by overheard conversations set up by the other characters.

The more conventional courting and engagement of Leonato’s daughter Hero (Kathryn Merry) by Claudio (John Lavelle) is broken up by obligatory bad guy Don John (Louis Butelli), bastard brother of the good Don Pedro (Kenn Sabberton). Don John sets up a midnight tryst using stand-ins that Claudio foolishly takes as evidence that Hero is a strumpet.

But, of course, it all ends well, and Shakespeare’s point about the folly of accepting appearance as fact is made. But deep down, these folks are shallow and not likely to change.

Aquila’s production is fun to look at, though the visual conceits (freeze-action shots; the betrayal scene done as dance; shadows used as lighting) are such that Shakespeare sometimes gets lost in the shuffle.

Some elements just don’t work, notably the car that keeps being shoved around the stage. I guess it’s supposed to indicate scene changes, but it’s distracting – sometimes even an impediment – such as Don John’s attempt to shout his lines from inside the car to Borachio (Kenn Sabberton) outside. And what was the point of making Friar Francis (Louis Butelli) a cowering little mouse of a man?

Still, Richmond’s ultra-hip interpretation is an unusual one, and may be worth seeing for those who like the different. Will’s in there, but you’ll have to look for him.

Much Ado About Nothing plays through Feb. 19 at La Jolla Playhouse’s Potiker Theatre. Shows Tuesday and Wednesday at 7:00 p.m.; Thursday through Saturday at 8:00 p.m.; Sunday at 7:00 p.m.; matinees Saturday and Sunday at 2:00 p.m. For tickets, call (858) 550-1010 or visit www.lajollaplayhouse.com.

Joseph Halpern (Robert Grossman) stands meditatively at his wife’s grave. “I know I wasn’t the best husband,” he whispers. “I tried.”

Slowly, Halpern becomes aware of a strange man standing awkwardly and quietly a few yards away, a bouquet of flowers in hand.

“This is my wife,” says Halpern.

“I know. Florence,” says the stranger.

“Who are you?”

“Johnson. An old friend.”

“Do I know you?”

Well, no, he doesn’t. It turns out that Dennis Johnson (Jonathan McMurtry) was Florence’s first boyfriend and lifelong friend, a fact she did not disclose to her husband.

After this initial shock, the men meet weeks later in a park to discuss their separate lives and relationships with the dearly departed. Reminiscent of I’m Not Rappaport, it’s a poignant and funny piece about marriage, regret, missed opportunities and deception (“the big C of relationships,” as Halpern puts it).

Halpern and Johnson, Lionel Goldstein’s two-man tour de force, is onstage through Feb. 19 at North Coast Repertory Theatre.

Splendidly acted by local favorite McMurtry and Grossman, one of Artistic Director David Ellenstein’s favorite imports, the play covers no new ground but will amuse and perhaps touch you with situations not unfamiliar to many of us. And it’s fascinating to watch Halpern try to maintain his equanimity, faced with this unwelcome stranger tossing out all sorts of inside information about his wife and their marriage, who calmly explains it with, “We had a rapport.”

Men tend not to share wives gracefully, certainly not with “platonic” male friends. In earlier years, Johnson’s revelation might have been fighting words, but these are old men, and the object of their affection is gone. After the initial fury (“I had no idea she was secondhand goods”), the two settle in to discuss their own sadness about aging, betrayal and missed opportunities, finally concluding, “A life isn’t measured in terms of time but in terms of feelings, emotions, memories.”

These are master class performances, elevating a sweet but predictable script to memorable theater.

Halpern and Johnson plays through Feb. 19 at North Coast Repertory Theatre. Shows Wednesday at 7:00 p.m.; Thursday through Saturday at 8:00 p.m.; Sunday at 7:00 p.m.; matinees Saturday and Sunday at 2:00 p.m. For tickets, call (858) 481-1055 or visit www.northcoastrep.org.