Theater

One might expect that playwright Wendy Graf’s new work, “Behind the Gates,” which brings to light abuse of women she found to be rampant among Jerusalem’s Charedi community, would prompt angry articles, letters to the editor or outraged public protests denying the image that she presents of the ultra-Orthodox. While Graf has fielded some strong objections to airing the dirty laundry in public for fear of inciting anti-Semitism, the truth of what she portrays has not been challenged, and the production has so far not been met with pickets or violent confrontation. “There has been none of that,” said Graf in a recent interview, “and I’m disappointed.”

It remains an enduring puzzle why, in a city of more than half a million Jews, where Jewish money supports every form of artistic expression and Hollywood overflows with Jewish talent, the city\’s sole Jewish theater struggles to survive from season to season.

At the Geffen Playhouse recently, David Arquette twisted off his gold wedding ring to reveal the inscription he shares with his wife, Courtney Cox: “A deal’s a deal. 6-12-1999.” The ornate script recalls the couple’s marriage in a multifaith ceremony in which Arquette broke a glass to honor his Jewish mother.

It seems out of character — to say the least — when Richard Montoya expresses concern about how his new play, “Palestine, New Mexico,” might be received at the Mark Taper Forum. Montoya, after all, is the irreverent front man for Culture Clash, the mostly left-leaning, often Chicano-themed political cabaret that has cheekily taken on multiculturalism for a quarter century in productions such as “Chavez Ravine” and “Water and Power.” No subject has been too sacred for its vaudevillian brand of humor — early sketches featured Latino “superheroes” such as “Busboy Man” and “Lawnblower Man” — and even Latino idols such as Che Guevara were fair game. “We didn’t realize until we read in a textbook out of New York University that we had heroically resurrected Che, but then killed him again,” Montoya said with a laugh.

A high school football player with a mohawk has a long, dark night of the soul. He dreams of an angelic visitation: a young woman in a nightgown, Star of David at her neck, wafts in through his window and gazes at him lovingly. As he awakes, he comes to the only reasonable conclusion: “Rachel was a hot Jew and the good Lord wanted me to get into her pants.” It must be said in all honesty, however, that this might not have been divine intervention; rather, like for Marley in “A Christmas Carol,” this visitation could have been the result of something the football player ate — the sweet-and-sour pork consumed during his family’s annual Simchat Torah’s viewing of “Schindler’s List.”

Did comedian Yisrael Campbell convert to Judaism for the jokes? If so, he might have tried to avoid the three circumcisions he had to endure to become a member of the tribe.