Salome Play

THERE'S the "Salome" everybody is talking about -- you know, the production of the Oscar Wilde play that will open Thursday at the Wadsworth Theatre, starring Al Pacino and directed by Estelle Parsons. It's a staged reading, duplicating a 2003 Broadway production that was developed at the august Actors Studio in New York. Then there's the other "Salome" -- not by Wilde, but definitely something of a theatrical wild card.

OSCAR WILDE'S "Salome" is a strange play. Just how strange? It's lured the great Al Pacino to take on the part of Herod, king of Judea -- as though he were channeling Jerry Lewis. Evidently it's a choice. Pacino has been working on the one-act for a number of years with his director, Estelle Parsons.

OSCAR WILDE'S "Salome" is a strange play. Just how strange? It's lured the great Al Pacino to take on the part of Herod, king of Judea -- as though he were channeling Jerry Lewis. Evidently it's a choice. Pacino has been working on the one-act for a number of years with his director, Estelle Parsons.

THERE'S the "Salome" everybody is talking about -- you know, the production of the Oscar Wilde play that will open Thursday at the Wadsworth Theatre, starring Al Pacino and directed by Estelle Parsons. It's a staged reading, duplicating a 2003 Broadway production that was developed at the august Actors Studio in New York. Then there's the other "Salome" -- not by Wilde, but definitely something of a theatrical wild card.

AL PACINO likes layers. A week before the first performance of "Salome" at the Wadsworth Theatre in West L.A., he drifts up and down the dark aisles like a wayward cloud formation of black and gray garments -- baggy pants, a couple of untucked shirts and a droopy blazer, his smiling face floating above them in Cheshire cat fashion. "Suicide," he says. "Murder. Sex." Pacino is ticking off the overlapping elements that keep him coming back to this odd script and the role of Herod, king of Judea.

AL PACINO likes layers. A week before the first performance of "Salome" at the Wadsworth Theatre in West L.A., he drifts up and down the dark aisles like a wayward cloud formation of black and gray garments -- baggy pants, a couple of untucked shirts and a droopy blazer, his smiling face floating above them in Cheshire cat fashion. "Suicide," he says. "Murder. Sex." Pacino is ticking off the overlapping elements that keep him coming back to this odd script and the role of Herod, king of Judea.