by AMY BARRATT

There's a lot to like about Muttertung Theatre Company's Bash: Latterday Plays, especially if you don't like humanity much.

Three local actors (Alison Darcy, Kevin Kruchkywich and Rylan Wilkie) take turns performing and directing a trilogy of short pieces by Neil Labute. This do-it-yourself production, the company's first, is on until Feb. 26 at the Théâtre Ste-Catherine.

Playwright and filmmaker Labute (The Company of Men, The Shape of Things) has a pretty dark view of our species. In the past I have accused him both of misogyny and a hateful fundamentalism, but I was wrong on both counts. If Labute does hate, he's an equal-opportunity hater. It's no coincidence that all three pieces in Bash feature people doing unspeakable things; he thinks all of us are capable of similar acts.

In Bash, most of the characters are Mormons, as is Labute himself. (Though there is mention of the Latter Day Saints in the final monologue, I'm unsure whether the woman delivering it is one herself. If so, she's a very lapsed one.) Some members of the church were offended by Bash when it was first performed, seeing it as a condemnation of Mormons in general. But Labute is writing about Mormons primarily because he knows Mormons. He probably also found it appealing to contrast their squeaky-clean, Osmond family image with something much darker. But his condemnation extends way beyond the Church to encompass all of so-called "civilized" humanity.

The three pieces can be presented in whatever order the company chooses. I like Muttertung's decision to start off with the "duologue" about a young couple off to a fancy "bash" in New York City. It starts the evening off with lots of energy and momentum.

John (Wilkie) and Sue (Darcy) are seated side-by-side on stage but do not interact. They tell the story of their "road trip" in two monologues woven together. Each character reveals much more than he or she would if the other could hear. Together, they embody a blond affability - hers a little shy, his exuberant - that's just right.

Next up is Kruchkywich as the young father who has lost a baby daughter. On the road because of his job, he has invited a woman (unseen) up to his hotel room in order to spill his guts. The audience takes the place of his confessor and, thanks to a compelling performance, experiences both disgust and fascination.

Muttertung has made the decision not to include Labute's titles for the individual pieces in their program, perhaps thinking that the Greek references in two of them gave too much away. Certainly the third piece, with Darcy as a woman recalling her seduction at 13 by her teacher, has plenty of hints and foreshadowing without its original title. Also, this being Labute, you know from the outset that even the most innocent scenarios are bound to turn twisted.

With the first two pieces, Labute seems to be saying, "People do despicable things all the time and get away with them." This is more depressing than tragic. Perhaps he's also pointing the finger at our endless appetite for the sordid.

The final piece is the one that comes closest to tragedy. The character sees no alternative to performing an unspeakable act and, in the end, she's the one who will suffer the most from it. Labute and Darcy send us out into the night wondering if our "humanity" really does reside in our worst sins. In which case, maybe despising that humanity makes sense after all.

Bash: Latterday Plays continues until Feb. 26 at Théâtre-Ste-Catherine (264 Ste-Catherine E.), 284-3939, $15

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