THEATER REVIEW : Imaginative Vision Fuels This ‘Romeo’ : Dynamic direction, inventive staging propel contemporary version of Shakespeare’s classic love story on a CBS backlot.

Three bikers swoop down the street. The leader of the pack, Tybalt, stops long enough to whip out his paint can and spray swastikas over the Stars of David at a storefront synagogue.

It’s director Michael Arabian’s way of grabbing our attention for his dynamic and imaginative vision of “Romeo and Juliet,” at CBS Studio Center in Studio City. It also threatens to stack sympathies too much in favor of one of the two feuding families.

But then the rest of this “Romeo” hasn’t much to do with anti-Semitism. A feeble “backstory” in the printed program addresses the subject, but it’s not distributed until the show’s over.

No, this production’s strength is more physical: it’s Arabian’s creative transformation of a studio backlot and soundstage into a home for a well-spoken account of Shakespeare’s sturdy play about two young lovers.

During the first half, ushers guide us around the lot from one exterior scene to another. It’s as if Shakespeare had been hired to write the script for a studio tour and managed to sneak in his own stuff instead of the usual promotional pap. Then, for the second half, we enter a soundstage and sit in folding chairs around a giant arena--where the staging is hardly any less inventive.

The setting is contemporary. It’s an upscale, multiethnic “West Side Story” for L.A.’s Westside, not New York’s. Until intermission, the culture’s most prominent artifacts, as seen here, are its cars.

Romeo has a white sports car. His pals Benvolio and Mercutio cruise around in an enormous black Cadillac convertible. A couple of other cars play supporting roles. During the first half, don’t stray beyond the invisible boundaries the ushers set up, or you may cause a traffic accident.

For the Queen Mab scene, the guys chew the fat in and around the big convertible, as it’s parked at the abrupt end of a street overlooking the Los Angeles River. But the “balcony” scene is the canniest use of a car. Romeo spies Juliet in her window while driving down the street outside her house and speaks his first lines from his car. Finally, he drives onto her lawn, parks under her window, and clambers on top of the car in an attempt to touch her outstretched hand. He’s still not quite high enough. Even cars have their limits.

The first half concludes with two street fights. Befitting the era, the weapons are knives and bullets, not swords. Randy Kovitz staged these scenes with such vigor and precision that we’ll probably be subpoenaed to testify about what we saw.

Seeing all this on the backlot seems so real--and yet so fake. These city streets are crowd-controlled. But Arabian’s company suspends our disbelief. Sound was not a problem Saturday evening. A couple of airplanes passed, but they didn’t stop the action. The transitions between scenes were quick enough to eliminate dead time.

The ease with which the vast vistas of Arabian’s staging are handled is especially remarkable considering that he also plays Romeo. How did he see the big picture so well when he was in the center of it?

The visual stimuli occasionally distract from the text during the first half, and the heat and sunshine might make that problem worse during matinees. It’s easier to concentrate on the words in the second half--although here, too, there is no lack of visual stimuli.

Lawrence is an herbalist, not a priest, and his shop is a dazzling display of colored vials, illuminated by a gently flashing orange light. Romeo, on the lam, suddenly drops in on Lawrence from the soundstage catwalk, and hand-held spotlights follow him once he’s on the floor. An ominous red light intermittently glows over the exiled Romeo’s hangout. Juliet’s bedroom is Laura Ashley-like, but it’s transformed into her tomb with a few simple strokes. The soundstage’s west end slowly opens and closes to illustrate Romeo’s descent into the crypt.

Everyone gets a physical workout--even the audience--but no one goes through more exertions than Marie Chambers’ Juliet. She runs laps around her parents’ living room as she finds her way to the herbalist’s, and once there she rolls on the floor while bemoaning her fate. In a smaller production it would be excessive; here it fits. Chambers is a gangly Juliet--taller than Romeo. The lines that go on about her age (13) are eliminated here, so we can believe she’s older. She might even have her driver’s license.

As for Arabian’s thin, tortured look--well, it’s no coincidence that he listens to the Doors’ “People Are Strange” at one point. The romantic chemistry is there, and that’s what counts.

* “Romeo and Juliet,” CBS Studio Center, 4024 Radford Ave., Studio City. Saturdays-Sundays, 1 and 6:30 p.m. Ends July 4. $20. (213) 466-1767. Running time: 3 hours.

Michael Arabian: Romeo

Marie Chambers: Juliet

Daniel Chace: Paris

Ernest Harada: Lawrence

Richard Voigts: Montague

Paul Kent: Capulet

Joyce Meadows: Mrs. Capulet

Lisa Passero: Nurse

Tim Russb: Mercutio

Wayne Storm: The Mayor (Prince)

Steven Wilde: Tybalt

Del Zamora: Benvolio

Shakespeare’s tragedy, produced by Suzanne Battaglia and The Artists’ Collective/Theatrelife. Directed by Michael Arabian. Sets: Jim Barbaley. Lights: J. Kent Inasy. Sound: Rita Sioux Lilly. Fight director: Randy Kovitz. Choreography: Stephanie Shroyer.