The butler didn’t see anything (in fact, there is no butler), but the audience sees plenty in 6th @ Penn Theatre’s hilarious production of What the Butler Saw, onstage through April 30.

Playwright Joe Orton, a take-no-prisoners social satirist who uses farce as his vehicle, takes on the Freudian psychiatric establishment in What the Butler Saw – fertile field for a sharp pen. But Orton didn’t settle for funny. As critic Howard Clurman once noted, “If you open your mouth in laughter at an Orton play, a spoonful of acid is dashed into it.”

The plot stems from the efforts of psychiatrist Dr. Prentice (Douglas Lay) to cover up the attempted shag of secretarial candidate Geraldine Barclay (Tess McIntyre), an event interrupted in flagrante by the sudden arrival of Mrs. Prentice (Leigh Scarritt).

Outrageous in a wacky black wig, whiteface, indescribable eyelashes and overly red lipstick (troweled on and heavily outlined in black), it soon becomes clear that Mrs. P has her own (taboo) sexual proclivities, and is, in fact, being blackmailed by Adonis-like one-night-stand busboy Nick (Philip Kruse).

Add the characters of supervising psychiatrist Dr. Rance (Brian Salmon, who once won a Dramalogue Award for the role) and police Sergeant Match (Fred Harlow), stir with gusto, provide doors leading to the wards, the dispensary and the hall, and a set of French doors opening onto the garden, and prepare to watch the sparks fly.

Straight-laced theatergoers beware: There’s sex talk, sexual innuendo, and even simulated (clothed) sex here, along with cross-dressing, a search for Winston Churchill’s missing parts and some great lines.

Sample: Dr. Prentice to his wife: “You were born with your legs apart. They’ll bury you in a V-shaped coffin.”

Mrs. Prentice, of Nick: “He has been depressed by his failure in commerce. That’s why he took to rape.”

Director Peter Cirino has assembled a superb cast for this collection of dream roles. Lay’s Prentice manages to be both officious and libidinous at once, and capable of talking his way out of most scrapes. Scarritt’s Mrs. Prentice is a caricature with such panache that you can’t help but love her, weird as she is. McIntyre’s naïve Geraldine from the secretarial service makes the most of her part and her lovely body. Kruse is great (and gorgeous, especially undressed) as a boy; hilarious as a girl in a leopard-spotted dress. Salmon’s Dr. Rance has a hilariously inappropriate answer for everything.

What the Butler Saw was Orton’s last play. The playwright’s demise at 34 was as lurid as anything he satirizes: He was bludgeoned to death by his lover, Kenneth Halliwell, who then committed suicide by Nembutal overdose. What a loss.

What the Butler Saw plays through April 30 at 6th @ Penn Theatre. Shows Thursday through Saturday at 8:00 p.m. and Sunday at 2:00 p.m. For tickets, call (619) 688-9120 or visit www.sixthatpenn.com.

Sometimes you just have to sit back and let silliness wash over you.

Avo Playhouse presents Room Service, a 1937 screwball comedy by John Murray and Allen Boretz, through March 19, directed by George Flint.

Trading on outlandish situations, fast pacing and eccentric characters, Room Service asks you to suspend disbelief in return for the chance to laugh at the goofy antics of the cast.

Here’s the setup: Would-be Broadway producer Gordon Miller (Frank F. Remiatte) is in debt up to his eyeballs (in 1937, that’s $1,200 and counting) to the Great White Way Hotel, where he and his cast of 21 are living (thanks to Miller’s soft-hearted brother-in-law Joseph Gribble, the hotel manager) while they rehearse and Miller searches for a backer. But Joe (Terry Scheidt) is near hysteria about the money, fearful that his job is on the line.

Just as Miller and his roommates – director Harry Binion (Daniel Logan) and Faker Englund (Robert T. Nanninga) – are putting on all the clothes in the closet in preparation for skipping out, a knock on the door brings in wide-eyed young playwright Leo Davis (Tom Lohar), who is just off the bus from Oswego and is hoping to see his play on the boards.

Among the other main characters are Joe’s near-apoplectic supervisor, Gregory Wagner (Larry Parker), Sasha (Paul Borque), a waiter (and, of course, a great actor from the Russian stage), and Simon Jenkins (Al Myers), the representative of a potential backer.

And there are five other minor characters. It’s quite a crowd for Flint to move around. Will the play open? Will the hotel get its money? Did I mention this was a comedy?

The cast does well with this sweet, almost archaically innocent script. People run in and out, bellow, put hats on moose heads, pretend to be sick and the like, but the whole adds up to not very much – the lines just aren’t that funny. The overall effort, however, is helped immensely by Marty Burnett’s terrific set and Jeanne Reith’s costumes.

Room Service plays through March 19 at the Avo Playhouse in Vista. Shows Thursday through Saturday at 8:00 p.m., with Saturday and Sunday matinees at 2:00 p.m. For tickets, call (760) 724-2110.

To most of us, swans are either lovely but lifeless table ornaments or untouchable creatures gliding silently and majestically across a lake. It’s easy to imagine them as small, graceful girls in tutus.

Choreographer Matthew Bourne’s experience of swans is quite different. A film in which he saw a swan (presumably protecting its young) attacking a small fishing boat led to a complete and spectacular re-imagining of Tchaikovsky’s beloved Swan Lake.

The plot is basically the same, though more psychosexual in focus. The Prince (Neil Penlington) has long suffered from his mother’s coldness (a heartbreaking early scene has the young prince reaching out to her while she carefully stays at arm’s length). Now that he’s grown up, the Queen (Oxana Panchenko) is focused on getting him married off to a suitable young lady, and plans a royal ball to find one. Meanwhile, the prince drags along with his mother as she performs royal duties: waving at public audiences, christening ships, graciously accepting a work of art resembling an Andy Warhol piece.

Bored by all this, the prince longs for a life he can call his own. He picks a completely unacceptable girlfriend (brilliantly portrayed by Agnes Vandrepote), who, in an amusing scene, scandalizes the royal family at the ballet with her loud talk, crinkly snack package and ringing cell phone.

That encounter ends in disaster. A few mishaps later, the prince is so miserable he is about to drown himself when he is saved by one of the swans on the lake (José Tirado) – and the Prince is instantly smitten. These swans are not girls in tutus but shirtless men, strong and muscular, with costumes reminiscent of satyrs.

Later, back at the palace, the Prince goes through the motions of dancing with the young ladies at the ball, but his heart is with the Swan. Suddenly, in walks a black leather-clad guest who looks remarkably like his Swan. This impostor brought by the Queen’s evil private secretary (Alan Mosley) makes it a point to enrage the Prince by openly flirting with his mother, provoking the Prince to strike her. Guns flash; the Prince winds up in the hospital.

Later, confined to bed, the Swan appears. Soon the other swans arrive as well, and the Prince encounters the fury of a group that regards his presence an invasion, and will not tolerate what they regard as the Swan’s defection. The ballet ends tragically, as the original did.

This year marks the 10th anniversary of the ballet’s London opening. It has worn well, the few plot tweaks (like the girlfriend’s cell phone) making it even more relevant. But Bourne’s emphasis on the human themes of neglect, jealousy, the thirst for freedom, tolerance and human connection make this old ballet new again, and even more affecting than the original.

Penlington has a good grasp of the slightly wimpy Prince, subjugated by his overbearing mother and almost pushed into a life he does not want. Panchenko has exactly the right look for the Queen – imperious, thin-lipped, she will brook no nonsense. Her encounters with Vandrepote’s free-spirited but untamed girlfriend are some of the best moments of the evening.

Tirado’s Swan, tall and strong, commands the stage whenever he’s on it (a good deal of the time). His sheer physicality exudes animal magnetism that even the Queen can’t resist; their sensuous waltz at the ball is another moment I won’t soon forget.

Does the world need another Swan Lake? The answer is yes, absolutely. Bourne’s version is on another level entirely. With all elements in place – terrific set, great costumes, fine dancers and choreography unlike any you’ve seen for this music – it is a spectacle not to be missed.

Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake runs through March 19 at the Ahmanson Theatre in Los Angeles. Performances run Tuesday through Saturday at 8:00 p.m. and Sunday at 7:30 p.m., with matinees Saturday and Sunday at 2:00 p.m. For tickets, call (213) 628-2772 or visit www.centertheatregroup.org.