‘Aleph 3’ at Saxon Lee; ‘The Maids’ at Powerhouse; ‘Stone Throwers’ at Theatre Exchange; ‘Bridge Club’ at Manhattan Pier Players

A leph is the word for the first letter in the Hebrew alphabet. But for Jorge Luis Borges, who was never bound by any language in particular, it meant “a point in space where all points coincide.” The difficulty with the past two editions of the ongoing performance series by Pipeline called “Aleph” was that they intended Borges’ meaning without finding that elusive “point.”

Still, most of the previous “Aleph” pieces stayed in the mind; some, like Kedric Robin Wolfe’s, even had a life. The new “Aleph 3,” at the Saxon Lee Gallery, has a thematic convergence point, without many lasting moments.

The four works depend on an interplay, if not a balance, between text and movement. The collective theme is innocence. Rob Sullivan’s “Going From A to Z,” directed by Darrell Larson, keeps all the elements in good calibration.

It’s actually a nice slap in the face to that faction in the arts that insists that the word is dead. Sullivan, in a refreshingly wacky departure from his labor movement-oriented writing for the local TheatreWorkers group, prances around the stage, lurches to and fro, and speaks to us (usually lit by the glow of a hand-held floodlight) like a little boy discovering the power of language. Percussionist John Fitzgerald’s aural colors make the discovery sound more exciting than a trip to the moon.

A million miles away from this is Italo Calvino’s mini-fiction, “The Bared Bosom,” performed by an elfin Scott Kelman and the stoic Carmella Greacen. A little knowledge of Italian men and Italian beaches adds hugely to this amusing satire of female objectification. As he skirts in and around the topless Greace under a sheltering sky and assesses how he can both ogle her and retain his post-sexist, progressive values, Kelman’s beachcomber becomes a mix of Henry Miller and Chaplin, upended by his own hopeless logic.

As director, Kelman has some good ideas with Betty Nash’s “Minotaur,” especially having Promethean tuba player William Roper use his instrument as the beast itself. But the bullfight drags out like a boring street fight rather than a taut struggle for a soul.

The closer is more like playpen time than performance art: “Aleph Blue” is a Kelman-directed improvisation, with Hye Sook smearing deep-blue powder on a canvas sheet, Stanley Young trying to pluck word jazz out of the air, and Gilberte Meunier moving in and out between them.

This is the point where innocence meets indulgence.

At 7525 Beverly Blvd., Saturdays and Sundays, 8 p.m., until Dec. 10. Tickets: $12; (213) 933-5282 or (213) 629-2205.

‘The Maids’

Call it coincidence, but a year after Jean Genet’s “Deathwatch” was staged at the Powerhouse, Genet’s “The Maids” comes to the same theater.

With each production, the intent is to contemporize Genet’s theater. “Deathwatch,” written for men, was cast with women. Darkstage’s “Maids” is cast with men, according to Genet’s wishes. Lewis Arquette’s direction, is Artaudian in the era of the Lakers and Rickey Henderson. The actors work mightily at an assignment that’s over their heads.

Neither Gabriel del Vecchio and Daniel Passer, as the maidservants intent on killing their mistress when they’re not play-acting, nor Nigel Sanders-Self, as that mistress, can make the difficult, uncredited translation as vital as the physical business. And there’s lots of the latter, including bullhorns, baseball bats and catcher’s masks.

Genet’s themes of class deception, domesticated fascism and habituated ritual simply don’t appear to have sunk into the minds of these actors, as committed as they seem to be.

At 3116 2nd St., Santa Monica, Tuesdays and Wednesdays, 8 p.m., until Nov. 22. Tickets: $8; (213) 392-6529 or (213) 466-1767.

‘The Stone Throwers’

If sets could be shows unto themselves, then Robert W. Bingham’s environmental design for “The Stone Throwers” at Theatre Exchange would be a memorable one.

Bingham cuts no corners with his North Carolina cafe--notice how the roof gives way to sheet metal, how the soot clings to everything (L. Lynn Hart’s lights, however, could use more soot).

Some of the characters in Lynn Phillip Seibel’s production of Donegan Smith’s backwoods drama, especially Kelso, the cafe owner (Milt Tarver), and drug dealer Paul (Alex D’Andrea), want to wipe the soot out of their lives. But Iron Cordell, the big bad sheriff (Charles Howerton), is upset that Kelso, under Cordell’s thumb, has a new pal. We expect explosions, but the not the kind of apocalyptic, ludicrously back-to-the-caves denouement Smith resorts to.

At 11855 Hart St., North Hollywood, on Thursdays through Saturdays, 8 p.m., until Dec. 2. Tickets: $12.50; (213) 466-1767.

‘Octette Bridge Club’

Mary, one of eight Irish Catholic sisters that make up “The Octette Bridge Club,” dares irreverence over the card table when she says she’d “wanted to be a nun, but I couldn’t get into the habit.”

Playwright P. J. Barry wants us to know that Mary isn’t good with the jokes, but he means it as comic relief nevertheless. For a 1985 play, this is awfully musty stuff.

Too bad, because Barry means well. He means to show that these nice Catholic women have carried their morality a touch too far, to the point where it’s seriously warping Betsy, the youngest of the octet (Barbara McCloy). He also means to show that Betsy can rise above the repression.

Try as it may--and it does--Jean Van De Griek’s Manhattan Pier Players ensemble can’t hide the play’s crude stab at layering human drama over family comedy. Even viewed from the fine arena seating (the theater doubles as Manhattan Beach’s city council chambers), the sibling clashes are unaffecting, and blunted by a cop-out happy ending.

At 1400 Highland Ave., Manhattan Beach, on Fridays and Saturdays, 8:30 p.m., until Dec. 9. Tickets: $8.50; (213) 545-5621, Ext. 321 or (213) 545-9192.