It's Back to the Future, Avant-Garde Style

Weary of heat, election coverage and the endless parade of superhero movies? You can escape the present at the Capital Fringe Festival, where some artists are jigsawing the past and overhauling the future.

At the Source, for instance, Happenstance Theater has detonated "Manifesto!," an ingeniously oddball deconstruction of the ideologies of yesteryear. Part surreal vaudeville, part carnivalesque prose poem with Charlie Chaplin rhythms, the production draws its text from the cocky edicts of the futurists and dadaists, with additional pilfering from the communist and capitalist manifestos.

The central conceit imagines a cabaret governed by "Alice in Wonderland" logic. A Hostess (Maia DeSanti) swans about in an evening gown, in front of a maroon curtain, supervising a snooty maitre d' (the drolly expressive Mark Jaster) and the klutzy New Girl (Sabrina Mandell, alternately jubilant and crestfallen, in a long skirt and maroon turban). Whimsical objects (a knee-high helium balloon, a typewriter on a wheelbarrow) periodically trundle through a doll-size door on the left. And two elated Visionaries (Lise Bruneau in turquoise robes and Marcus Kyd in a jacket, striped trousers and a gigantic crimson cravat) burst onto the stage to help turn manifesto excerpts into enigmatic parlor games.

Kyd dons aviator glasses to illustrate the futurists' obsession with speed. Dadaist quotations generate a conga line and a mimed bar fight involving stools, a grenade, a light saber and poisoned jelly. And then there are the cuckoo clock and the zany special effects, including an interlude for the musical saw, as well as the appearance of the locomotive from René Magritte's "Time Transfixed."

Although the opening could use a little tightening, "Manifesto!'s" jabberwocky-and-slapstick aesthetic is brash and seductive, and the brainy allusions will appeal to intellectual history wonks. The material is particularly appropriate for the Fringe: Futurism and dadaism pulsed with revolutionary zeal; and revolt -- against the artistic establishment, and sometimes against good taste -- is the ethos of Fringe.

Like "Manifesto!," Live Action Cartoonists' "Revenge of the Poisoned Ladies" glances back at the past and blows it to smithereens. Directed by Georgetown University visiting professor Natsu Onoda ("Trees and Ghosts"), this tongue-in-cheek multimedia piece relates two ghost stories: one set in feudal Japan, the other in Victorian Britain. Deadpanning or using exaggerated accents, five young performers (including T. Brandon Evans and Liz McAuliffe) interact with puppets, projections, moving cutouts, grotesque masks and a montage of horror-movie sequences. The offbeat venue -- the show takes place over, under and around a cloth-draped table in a small room at Corduroy restaurant, on Ninth Street NW -- further boosts the innovation quotient. The production's first half, adapted from a Kabuki play, contains some stirring theatricality (there's a lovely moment when a live actress brushes her hair, and cinematic footage of cascading locks washes over the tablecloth), but the second part, featuring a Halloween-style gotcha, feels a little amateurish. (In an introductory announcement Thursday, a cast member pointed out that some seats were empty -- contradicting what he said was a sold-out notice on the Fringe Web site.)

Not all revisionist retrospectives are even interesting, of course. "3 Murdered Clowns," a triptych of one-acts by Scot Walker (directed by Catherine Aselford) at the D.C. Arts Center, opens with "November 22," a Kennedy-assassination conspiracy-theory riff that is a yawn (George Balulis and David Berkenbilt interpret the implausible dialogue). Equally stilted are "Screeches From the Zoo," about a nightmare day in Washington (Jennifer Mayberry, arguing with a policeman puppet), and "Eternal Bliss," about a congressman (Balulis) who soliloquizes in dreadful erotic prose.

If you sit through that triple misfire, you'll have frustration to work off. Better ramble over to the funny and whip-smart science-fiction fable "Power House: The Super-Ozone-Friendly-Happy-Disco-Energy-Techno-Dance-Along Show." Mounted at the Source, and featuring nightclub music, flashing colored lights, psychedelic projections and a hilarious parody of a documentary, Shawn Northrip's creation (directed by Shirley Serotsky) conjures up a dystopian future. The global energy crisis has been solved by harnessing the kinesis of dancers. But the technology leads to abuse: Power plants where evil supervisors, such as Gus Stapo (Joe Pindelski), force drugged-up victims to keep jiving.

Igniting the ravelike atmosphere are Andy Welchel's music direction, Elisheba Ittoop's sound design (which unfortunately drowns out some of the dialogue), David Ghatan's lighting and Brett Cramer's video (among other elements). Audience participation is also crucial: A few seats are available, but patrons are strongly encouraged to stand on the bare stage and dance. And who knows: The 60-minute workout may give you the vim to forge back into the Fringe-fraught present.

Capital Fringe Festival, through July 27 at various sites across the city. For tickets, go to the Capital Fringe box office, 607 New York Ave. NW, or visit http://www.capfringe.org. Tickets can also be purchased at the door of a given production one hour before showtime.