Doomed love is a staple in the worlds of fiction and opera. Now one of literature’s most beloved ill-fated couples – Yurii Zhivago and his lovely Lara – get a new musical treatment in Zhivago, already extended through July 9 at La Jolla Playhouse’s Mandell Weiss Theatre.

The idea of setting Pasternak’s revolutionary novel Dr. Zhivago to music may sound heretical, even sacrilegious. This novel, set at the time of the Bolshevik revolution in 1917, is about Mother Russia, with recurring themes of war, revolution and rebirth as the characters live this turbulent and history-altering time. Most of it is sad, some tragic. It’s an opera plot. How can it lend itself to a modern musical?

I’m delighted to report that it can, it did and the result is a stunning theatrical achievement. Des McAnuff, riding high with multiple Tony nominations for Jersey Boys, directs the world premiere of another show that has Tony written all over it. Michael Weller wrote the book; Lucy Simon the music and Michael Korie and Amy Powers the lyrics.

David Lean’s 1965 film gave us the sweep of the story as only cinema can. McAnuff’s pared-down Zhivago concentrates on the micro-level effects of politics on people – the personal stories of fear, longing and heroism of a people on the brink of social upheaval, whether hanging on for dear life or striving to bring about the destruction of the old system.

The plot revolves around the beautiful Lara Guishar Antipova (Jessica Burrows) and the three men in her life: husband Pasha Antipov (Matt Bogard), who begins as a student activist and ends a Bolshevik official named Strelnikov; the shady lawyer Viktor Komarovsky (Tom Hewitt), whose position has allowed him to claim an affair with Lara; and poet and surgeon Yurii Andreyevich Zhivago (Ivan Hernandez), whose chance encounter with Lara changes both their lives forever.

A terrific cast brings the story to life. Fine actors all, I favor Bogard’s robust voice, but Burrows’ high, laser-beam voice and Hernandez (who just finished the revival of Most Happy Fella at New York City Opera) are also wonderful and well matched. Hewitt is fine as well. Strober’s voice is lovely and pleasant, but a little light in this company.

Scenic designer Heidi Ettinger has created an erector set look – no-nonsense and utilitarian, all height and steel girders. The initial scene is the Moscow train station, but pieces roll in from all sides and down from the top to change the locations for the multiple scenes – a bridge, a library, Zhivago’s wife’s house, a battlefield, just for starters.

But the best thing (in a long list of wonderful ones) about this show is Lucy Simon’s music. For want of a better term I’ll call it organic, in that it grows out of the dramatic situation rather than being dropped into it, as is the case with most current musicals. In that sense (and in general plot), Zhivago reminds me of Fiddler on the Roof, which puts it in excellent and rarefied company.

But this is a Russian story, and in the end, Lara has escaped to Paris with Yurii’s daughter. Strelnikov and Zhivago are left to empty a bottle of vodka together:

Strelnikov: “So here we are, an aristocrat and a railway worker’s son. Everything betrays us.”

Zhivago: “Everything fills us with life if we let it.”

Strelnikov: “Very pretty. In the end, what difference does it make?”

It may or may not make a difference, but it makes a terrific musical, one that should be headed for New York. See it here while you can.

Zhivago has already been extended through July 9 at La Jolla Playhouse’s Mandell Weiss Theatre. Shows Tuesday and Wednesday at 7:30 p.m., Thursday through Saturday at 8:00 p.m. and Sunday at 7:00 p.m. Matinees take place on Saturday and Sunday at 2:00 p.m. For tickets, call (858) 550-1010 or visit www.lajollaplayhouse.com.

It’s difficult to care much about the central question here, which is whether Johnny, a never-seen character in a low-budget film, should live or die. But that’s part of playwright John Patrick Shanley’s point in Four Dogs and a Bone, his 75-minute slam of Tinsel Town, on the 6th @ Penn Theatre stage through June 21, directed by Jerry Pilato.

The dogs in this case are four characters: producer Bradley (John Antonov); first-time screenwriter Victor (John DeCarlo); Brenda (Mary Zuzik), a miniskirted bimbette in her first screen role; and seasoned stage actress Collette (Teri Brown). All are willing to do whatever it takes to get what they want – especially Brenda and Collette, who each want to save Johnny from death, thus increasing screen time.

Bradley, trying to make an $8 million film for $5 million, wants to make the numbers work. Victor wants to make a good film and will, of course, end up bottom dog, as is the way with all writers.

Not exactly an original idea, this. Dumping on Hollywood is easy sport, often even blood sport (David Mamet’s Speed-the-Plow comes to mind, as does the film Adaptation). But the rule is this: If you’re going to clobber somebody, use something sharper than a pillow. Both the abovementioned are effective because they are pointed and have some bite.

Shanley, by contrast, takes his shots in a piece that is bitchy rather than trenchant, profane rather than sharp, disgusting rather than comic. Bradley, for example, who opines that “sometimes character is an obstacle to overcome,” not only is a pain in the ass, but has one – an oozy sore, a truly revolting and desperately unfunny image.

Shanley knows his topic. Having drunk deeply of the well of success with his first, Oscar-winning 1987 screenplay for Moonstruck, he had a more, shall we say, realistic experience in Hollywood with the much less successful Joe Versus the Volcano a few years later. In 1987, he also wrote a low-budget screenplay for Five Corners, which starred Jodie Foster and John Turturro, and which may have inspired this play.

It’s tempting to ask whether Shanley sees himself in Victor, and to speculate on who the other characters might represent. For the moment, we have a good cast doing what they can to interpret this slight piece.

The women fare better than the men here. Zuzik has a great time in the part made famous by Mary-Louise Parker a decade ago in an off-Broadway production. Brenda, “not an actress but a personality,” looks harmless, but her claws turn out to be sharper than the veteran Collette’s. Brown’s Collette is hanging on for dear life and looking for a way to revivify a career that is clearly in decline. She’s terrific in the role.

Antonov needs to push Bradley further into caricature to match the women. Victor is a weak puppy dog character and DeCarlo plays him that way.

This bone was pretty dry to begin with, and while Shanley provides a few yocks along the way, these dogs need sharper teeth.

Four Dogs and a Bone plays through June 21 at 6th @Penn Theatre. Shows Monday through Wednesday at 7:30 p.m. and Sunday at 7:00 p.m. For tickets, call (619) 688-9210 or visit www.sixthatpenn.com.

Poisonous snakes are fascinating. So are train wrecks, but you probably wouldn’t want to get too close to either of them.

Many people called political strategist Lee Atwater a snake, and though – as he points out – he didn’t invent negative campaigning, he certainly elevated it to an art form.

Now Jeffrey Jones brings Atwater back from the dead (he died in 1991 at 40 of a brain tumor) to give us a look at a good ol’ South Carolina boy who almost single-handedly changed the face of American political campaigning. Cygnet Theatre presents Robert Myers’ Atwater: Fixin’ to Die through June 18, directed by Rosina Reynolds.

It’s a tour de force performance, made the more so by Atwater’s natural restlessness that made him seem to be in perpetual motion, with a rat-a-tat speaking style to match. Also an accomplished blues guitarist, this man who some called racist counted blues legend B.B. King among his friends, even recording an album with him.

Atwater: political strategist, kingmaker, liar, blues guitarist, eventually a dying man desperate to make amends, “thought about being a professional rassler, but what I really wanted was a band.” Instead, he turned to politics.

Politics is a dirty business, and Atwater never eschewed the use of mud when working on a candidate’s campaign. Engineer of George Bush the elder’s 1988 presidential win, Atwater stumbled upon the concept that “elections don’t depend on issues but on the opponent’s unworthiness.” Atwater is perhaps best known as the man who sank Michael Dukakis’ presidential bid by tying him to convicted rapist and murderer Willie Horton. (As governor, Dukakis had approved of a Massachusetts furlough system for felons; during one furlough, Horton raped again.).

Atwater claims to have gotten Bush the elder’s “no new taxes” pledge “from a rassler,” and Atwater notes: “The funniest thing about ‘read my lips’ is that the guy didn’t have any lips. A little thin straight line….”

Atwater: Fixin’ to Die does not shed light on Atwater’s motivation, other than his confession that “I hate to lose.” How that translated into the willingness to sink to any depths in the pursuit of victory is not explained.

But Jones’ performance is a wonder, as he agitatedly leaps around the stage, pulling out audiovisual aids in the form of cutouts of politicians he worked with and for: Bush, Strom Thurmond (in whose office Atwater worked while in high school), Ronald Reagan.

“The most important thing in life is honesty,” Atwater misquotes. “If you can fake that, you’ve got it made.” (The original quote, about either sincerity or honesty in acting, is variously credited to George Burns and Groucho Marx.)

It’s been almost a decade since Atwater: Fixin’ to Die was first presented. In that time, sad to say, the business of politics has continued down the Atwater path. Maybe this production will make us stop and think.

Atwater: Fixin’ to Die plays through June 18 at Cygnet Theatre. Shows Thursday through Saturday at 8:00 p.m. and Sunday at 2:00 and 7:00 p.m. For tickets, call (619) 337-1525 ext. 3 or visit www.cygnettheatre.com.