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Arcadia. There's so much richness to this play that once you've seen it, you want to acquire the text, ask your mathematician friends to explain the science, re-read Byron, study the history of the English garden, and generally try to plumb the ideas that Tom Stoppard has set whirling about the stage, including Newtonian physics, fractals, chaos theory and Fermat's theorem. Still, you don't need to understand all of these to enjoy Arcadia, which brims with charm and wit and whose intertwined mysteries keep you happily sleuthing. The math and science serve as metaphors, vehicles for exploring a very basic set of dichotomies — order and disorder, rational thought versus passion, classicism against romanticism — although the ever-changing dynamics between these dualities breed endless new fusions and, hence, endless new dichotomies. Add one more mystery: the passing of time, the ways in which we interpret the past, and the ways both the past and our interpretations of it influence the present. The action takes place on the Coverly estate in Sidley Park; the time alternates between 1809 and the present. In the past, thirteen-year-old Thomasina Coverly is at her lessons with her tutor, Septimus. Thomasina is a fidgety child, but she's also a prodigy. The next scene takes place in the present, as three very different thinkers attempt to piece together the history of Coverly. Like all good art, Arcadia is more than the sum of its parts. The plotting is profoundly satisfying, whether its pieces are clicking neatly into place or stubbornly failing to cohere, and the script sometimes sports an almost Wildean wit. But though the characters are drawn satirically rather than sympathetically, you find yourself emotionally moved. And that's despite the acting, because while a few performances are good, some roles are miscast, several are embarrassingly badly acted, and the English accents are tooth-grindingly awful. Presented by Firehouse Theater Company through May 17, John Hand Theater, 7653 East First Place, 303-562-3232, www.firehousetheatercompany.com. Reviewed May 8.

The Baseball Show. Evil, malaprop-prone Vincent Vascombe, owner of the Beloit Bulldogs, is determined to hold on to his star player, Bill "The Bomber" Dawson. But Dawson -- aided by his smart, competent fiancée, Helen -- has plans for the majors, and there's a talent scout hanging around. So Vascombe hatches a plot to kidnap Helen, hoping this will throw Dawson off his game. Vascombe can barely speak a word without mangling it -- "Let me induce myself"; "for a stifling fee"; "a talent for stating the oblivious" -- and T.J. Mullin delivers the dialogue with his usual low-key and unflappable aplomb. Most of the other characters find his speech impenetrable; the only person who can translate is the hired muscle, Sid -- as played by Alex Crawford, a wry, peaceful sort of fellow who prefers minding his own business to breaking bones for the boss. Annie Dwyer is irresistible as Vascombe's moll, Rose Louise Romberg; variously bewigged, a crazed amalgam of tough broad and breathy Marilyn Monroe, pouncing and preening, she owns the stage every time she sashays onto it. This show is one of Heritage's best -- for its good humor, flying Nerf balls and the fun, fast musical medley that concludes the evening. Presented by Heritage Square Music Hall through May 18, 18301 West Colfax Avenue, Golden, 303-279-7800, www.hsmusichall.com. Reviewed March 13.