The Alive Theatre’s nomadic and Homeric odyssey continues, this time through the urban dystopia of Stephen Adly Guirgis’ “In Arabia We’d All Be Kings,” directed by Jeremy Aluma.

At various the characters in this explosive, powerful saga of degradation, depravity, and despair allude to other places.

Besides a couple of references to Arabia, a metaphor for some exotic never-never land, two hookers plan a getaway trip to Florida, one patsy thinks he’s an outer space Darth Vader.

The references are understandable. A bleak and dismal analysis of alienation set in Nineties New York in the throes of gentrification, this feral production offers a fascinating though queasy enactment of the rule of this urban jungle: eat or be eaten.

It’s a cast of alcoholics, druggies, prostitutes, pimps and johns, crooks, shysters, and a murderer. They comprise not just the city’s demimonde but also a demonic Holy Roller and a property developer, in other words, the story represents a cross section of humanity. They’re on the make, on the lam but, as the production shows, they’re not on the go because they’re anchored by need or necessity to the corner bar.

This production shows the scab of a too-much scratched city in the throes of transition. A church choir sings songs of salvation but really, it’s just ambient noise.

Romanticizing a way of life this is not. It’s a dissection of human nature. This doesn’t romanticize them, it doesn’t get us slumming with them. No, we’re dragged into the middle of it all.

The company used the 360 space to great advantage, creating the effect of a centrifuge to hell, with a vortex bullseye down the center of that bar.

The acting was scary good.

Scary because it’s didn’t seem like it was acting at all. Belching explosive dialogue littered with come ons, come hithers, come-ons, and comeuppance, it’s like we were pressed up against the wall in that cleverly-conceived set.

Good because the ensemble cast melded into their going-nowhere iterations of despair and dysfunction.

Especially Bri Price, as Demaris, fantastic as a young girl who was forced to grow up too soon and had crummy models to emulate. Loss of innocence? She wasn’t innocent to begin with.

Kenneth McClain, too, as Greer, a skivvy developer with plans to upscale the bar. He had dollar signs in his eyes and a bulge, well, never mind. He was a bottom feeder, par excellence.

And Frank Stasio, as Lennie, the ex-con who thought being back home would be an improvement from his last place of residence. It wasn’t, not by a long shot.

With its pitch perfect integration of words (script) and action (enactment), this is one of those productions that seem so natural, so flawless, that you can’t imagine the thing being produced again by any other company.

– James Scarborough

With playwright Stephen Adly Guirgis in attendance, Alive Theatre opened In Arabia We’d All Be Kings in a section of the EXPO Building properly transformed into a seedy mid-’90s NYC bar. What we witnessed was a theater company hitting on all cylinders in bringing life to a low-powered engine of a script, active but not strong.

“Your eyes got tragedy in them. Tragedy is sexy.”

This line is not the play’s intended theme. Yet after two hours of characters wallowing in unremitting abasement, I can’t help but feel that Guirgis banks that audiences will be turned into caring about them simply because they’re having a hard time.

In Arabia concerns city-dwellers of the lowest socioeconomic class this side of homelessness, and we get an array of boiler-plate fare: barflies, drug addiction, teen motherhood, recidivistic young men. Real inner-city issues, sure, but that doesn’t impart dramatic value ipso facto. The line “Those people out there, they ain’t no better than us” may as well be pointed at theatergoers: If you don’t care what’s going on down here onstage, you DO think you’re better.

– Greggory Moore

Let’s be honest about it. Stephen Adly Guirgia’s award-winning drama, “In Arabia We’d All Be Kings,” is not for everyone.

An honest, unsentimental depiction of the lowest dregs of society, it is so visceral, so shocking and inflammatory, some people will definitely be offended.

Since this is a community newspaper, I’ve been sitting at my computer all morning trying to find the exact words to highly recommend this gut-wrenching work, which just opened last weekend.

If your idea of theatrical entertainment is light-hearted comedy with a happy ending, be forewarned, this “Arabian Nights” is not that. On the other hand, if you are intellectually open to an honest, no-holds-barred dramatization of life in Hell’s Kitchen or on Skid Row, you’ll be glued to your seat throughout the performance.

“Arabia” is tough stuff to perform. Kudos to everyone involved with this Alive Theatre production — especially director Jeremy Aluma and his 18-member cast, all of whom turn in excellent portrayals of Guirgis’s raw, gritty characters.

Everything takes place in or near a sleezy bar — the dead-end meeting place for the crooks, crack-heads, prostitutes, ex-cons, alcoholics and misfits in the neighborhood. Fred Kinney’s grungy set, Debra Lockwood’s foreboding light design, and Chris Kittrell’s sound provide the atmosphere for your chilling encounter.

The bar’s owner Jake (Steven Luna) is a flake, but that’s nothing compared to some of his customers. Andrew Block is sensational as Sammy the drunk, who practically lives there. He’s “seen it all.” At any minute he might pass out, wake up screaming, recite poetry, or keel over and die.

Sharif Nasr is heartbreaking as the mentally challenged bartender who tries to service all the low-life.

When the play opens, Lennie (Frank Stasio) is brutally threatening everyone. He’s just been released from prison where he was repeatedly gang-raped, so he’s desperate to prove his manhood. While Lennie was locked up, his alcoholic girlfriend, Daisy (Tracey Ali) has been making out with Jake — along with any other John who will supply her sex and liquor.

Shank the pot-head, wanna-be actor (beautifully played by Andrew McReynolds) lies to his girlfriend Chickie about saving money to get clean. Jessica Diz is terrific as Chickie. Dressed in rags and half-starving, she walks the street to provide for their habit.

Then there’s Miss Reyes (Brenda Banda), a busy prostitute whose daughter Demaris is so tough she pulls a gun on her mother, calls her a bitch, and threatens her life. Bri Price’s portrayal of this rage-filled teenager is harrowing; as is the scene where Demaris begs Chickie to teach her how to turn tricks. She learns so well she goes to jail.

And that’s not half of the nightmare these losers face, or what they go through to survive. But their days are numbered. There is no “somewhere over the rainbow.” When their bar is sold to some immoral snake-in-the-grass (Kenneth McClain’s low-key performance is dynamite), the lights go out for everyone. Before that happens, however, most of them have already self-destructed or met brutal death — all of it right here in the good old USA.

– Shirle Gottlieb

As downtown L.A. faces gentrification and image “clean-up,” Alive Theatre brings to stage “In Arabia,” an assortment of down-and-out characters in Hell’s Kitchen, NYC, 1990’s, desperately trying to survive and maintain dreams, fearing displacement from the bar they call ‘home.’

One musical number sets the tone: “Ain’t No Heart in the City, Ain’t No Love in the Town.”

Amidst the coldness of Giuliani’s renovation, gentle human interactions result. One endearing scene has Chickie (Jessica Diz), a crack head prostitute, putting her needs aside, and teaching life lessons to teen mom Demaris (Bri Price).

The philosophic Greer, a gay drifter, is superbly played by Kenneth McClain, no stranger to Long Beach theater. Greer’s lament sums up the play: “You’re young, you take stuff in; you reach an age of wisdom, come to terms and don’t need a party every night…”

Playwright Stephen Adly Guirgis (Judas Iscariot) commended the cast on opening night. Guirgis himself had stories struggling to come out and be portrayed on stage. “It’s a surreal honor to see these amazing people doing my work! In a renovated warehouse, they put together a show… the result is phenomenal!”

– Bonnie Priever