PADUA FEST : ‘HERAKLES’ DOMINATES AT BOYD ST.

Sometimes the most you can hope for is relativity. Program B of the Padua Hills Playwrights’ Workshop/Festival, which had two public performances over the weekend at the Boyd St. Theatre downtown, offered one intriguing item out of two. Considering that this festival has consistently placed more value on process than on result, a 50% arousal of interest is not bad--relatively speaking.

The program was dominated by John Steppling’s “Children of Herakles,” a major departure for this playwright in several ways. First, it’s an adaptation rather than an original work (of Euripedes’ “The Herakleidae”). Second, it’s new territory: Greek mythology rather than the demythologizing of California (Steppling’s favorite former activity to date). Third--and thoroughly refreshing--it’s about language from a playwright whose characters until now had ranged from the tongue-tied to the monosyllabic.

It may not be perfection yet, but it’s a new frontier. And the play has been held over for two weeks by Heliogabalus, a producing organization created by Steppling and actor Bob Glaudini who plays Copreus, a soldier of Argos in “Children of Herakles.”

That’s the good news. The bad news is that “Children of Herakles” can still try one’s patience.

The adaptation comes complete with a rambling expositionary prologue by Steppling (“Time is the future of the inner man; the empty man uses time in his lust for possessions; this I have learned over time”--and it also tells you almost all you ever wanted to know about Herakles, a k a Hercules).

The period is timeless--modern-day costumes and blank-face masks (coordinated by Lance Crush)--and retains a full-fledged Greek chorus of individual rather than conjoined voices (Marilyn Dodds-Frank, Taylor Donlan, Elizabeth Pearson, Tina Preston).

Steppling directed (perhaps not the wisest choice) with his customary affection for minimalist action. It makes the production more static than it needs to be, especially since the play is presented in a series of short scenes (some very short) separated by slow fadeouts.

It’s an ascetic, cinematic technique and it does let you hear the language which is very much worth hearing. But it also leaves you starved for action. The Herakles history is complex and confusing at best, especially as recalled through the words of many of the characters central to it. And behind those lookalike masks, the actors are not much more than involuntary puppets in a dicey game of gods and life and destiny.

In a theater as confining as the Boyd, that can become oppressive which, knowing Steppling, may be part of the strategy. But even for the most compassionate audience, it’s tough sledding.

The evening’s second half was taken up by “Tight Pink Things,” a fairly impenetrable exercise by Kathy Hemingway Jones involving the strange and strained, mildly exhibitionistic relationship of three women and a man. Or were they all butterflies, as the names seemed to indicate?

Again directed by the author, this performance piece (for want of a better term) was riddled with enigmatic exchanges passing for poetry (“What causes you to run?”--”My arms; they’re out of reach”--”They’re as long as they can be”--”They’re out of reach, yes”). It had lesbian overtones (the man’s name is Verge, as in rod or wand, though the reason for his presence is unclear), one honest-to-goodness physical fight between two women/butterflies, a song and a half (“Astrid where is your tongue?”), a curious set of graphics, some verbal voyeurisme and much ado over colorful paper dresses. All in all it was a little fey, a little whimsical, a lot obscure.

The benefits from pieces such as this are ultimately a form of artistic cronyism--profitable chiefly to those involved and perhaps extending to their friends (some of whom were in Sunday’s audience).

Performances of “Children of Herakles” at 305 Boyd St. (corner of Wall Street) continue Fridays and Saturdays, 8 p.m., through Aug. 15. Tickets: $9; (213) 629-2205.