A sweet but dissolute alley cat and a philosophically minded cockroach, symbols of the dual cultures of the 1920's and 30's, inhabit the strange world recreated in Kirkland House's archy and mehitabel. Richard Gottlieb's adaptation of the original series by Don Marquis, however, largely ignores the periods atmosphere in favor of the humor and occasional pathos of Marquis's animal characters. Add occasional music by Larry Johnson, and the result is a curious but thoroughly enjoyable mixture of comedy and fantasy.

Jody Adams as mehitabel made a part that could easily have worn thin (her motto, "toujours gaie," must have been repeated 50 times) constantly amusing, surprising whenever possible, and occasionally touching. John Sansone's archy, however, didn't quite click, perhaps because his part was rather stupid: a lot of wise sayings from the cockroach's perspective on human life, neither incisive nor witty.

The four men who played most of the other parts, Belford Lawson, Michael Lavelle, Joshua Rubins, and Michael Ellmann, seemed almost protean in their ability to shift from one part to another. Ellman's warty bliggens, an egomaniacal frog with a Texas accent, Lawson's fiendish tarantula, Lavelle's tom, and Rubins' irate bill Shakespeare were all ironic masterpieces, classics of the genre. Barbara Lanckton and Margaret Stanback filled the occasional women', parts competently, but only Miss Lanckton's spider had any zip.

The lights and set were spartan -- they did the job, but with no flair. Larry Johnson's music turned out to be relatively inconspicuous. The first act featured an incongruously serious introduction and a marvelous, somewhat Schonbergian, dance for the finale. The second act music largely consisted of humorous distortions of traditional tunes. This approach jibed much better with the action and made the second act a little more unified than the first. But unity isn't the central issue, anyhow. The whole evening is a series of little episodes, more of an amusing revue than a play.