Archive for May, 2011
Review: Mother Bear (Mortar Theatre)
Mother Bear roars with danger
| Mortar Theatre presents |
| Mother Bear |
| Written by Jayme McGhan Directed by Jason Boat at Athenaeum Theatre, 2936 N. Southport (map) through June 19 | tickets: $15-$20 | more info |
Reviewed by Barry Eitel
As a normal, sedan-wielding citizen, the life of a trucker has a white trash mystique for me. Rest stop showers. Knowledge of every 24-hour diner in the country. A glove compartment bulging with methamphetamines for those all-night long hauls. Yes, much of this is a big rig fantasy. But it’s a whimsy Mortar Theatre’s Mother Bear indulges in heavily. While the tone is unstable and the story questionable, Jayme McGhan’s play is a white-knuckle ride, full of scumbags. I’ve reviewed most of Mortar’s production history and Mother Bear is the most entertaining piece I’ve seen.
The world-premiere tale isn’t set on the open road, but in a tiny trucker diner in the middle of nowhere, Utah. The pancake house, run by the pictured-sweatshirt-wearing Vera (J. Kingsford Goode) is a front operation for the Disciples, a quasi-Christian mob of truckers who earn higher wages because a Disciples’ trident stamp is on their rig. They also nab a few bucks from hijacking trucks transporting drugs and arms fresh from Mexico. They are led by Mother (Jim Farrell), an unapproachable God-like figure who on some days seems like a reasonable dude, but, on others, won’t hesitate to smash a disrespectful fellow’s head into a table. A young outsider, Freely (Brian Plocharczyk), wants Mother to sign the Disciples to his new truckers’ union. Mother is plenty content with his semi-legal operation. Mother’s days are numbered, though. Spunky female trucker Delia (Maria Enriquez) looks to take down the Disciples from the inside. And Bones (Dustin Whitehead, in the most delicious performance in the piece), Mother’s amoral bodyguard, has his own loyalty issues.
McGhan can’t keep the mood of the piece stable. The first act, though there are plenty of head injuries, knives, and guns, emits a charming warmth and mostly likable, albeit rough around the edges, crew of lowlifes. This feeling flees from the second act, which takes a dark, undeserved turn. The final few scenes have more immediacy, but it comes out of nowhere. The characters unravel, all of them revealing that they are much different than what we first thought.
This makes for an interesting study of appearances vs. reality, but I don’t think that’s McGhan’s point. According to Mortar’s promotion (and their usual pick of work), Mother Bear is a social issues play which opines on the hotly-contested subject of unions. The series of twists undercut the message. I left the Athenaeum unsure of what I should be taking away. There’s no final thesis on labor relations—it’s a play about the nature of evil. This is fine, but McGhan could frame the theme better.
The performances fit right into the text. To be honest, I don’t think the world of truckers and the world of theatre intersect often, but Jason Boat’s cast is wholly authentic. Farrell’s Mother is a King Lear of the open road. There’s a welcoming twinkle in his eye, but also a repressed ferocity just waiting for the cage to be opened. Plocharczyk is a bit whiney, but it works for the oft-abused Freely. Goode’s deadpan portrayal of Vera is spot-on for a cynical diner owner/only waitress. Enriquez’s Delia is tough-as-nails and brashly sexual, except in her last scene where her bravery and dignity disappear—a disappointment. Whitehead rounds out the cast excellently. His Bones is straight out of that bar where your kind isn’t welcome.
Mother Bear pulls as much inspiration from the Bible as it does from America’s highways. It’s this oddly spiritual realm that McGhan seems to really want to explore. McGhan’s script requires re-evaluation and tightening. Boat and the cast invest so much of themselves in the world, though, McGhan’s true intent doesn’t seem so important.
| Rating: ★★★ |
Mortar Theatre’s Mother Bear continues through June 19th at the Athenaeum Theatre, 2936 N. Southport Ave., with performances Fridays and Saturdays at 7:30pm, and Sundays at 3pm. Tickets are $20 ($18 seniors, $15 students, $12 veterans), and can be purchased by phone (800-982-2787) or online here.
Review: Nunsense (Metropolis Performing Arts Centre)
Old habits die hard
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Metropolis Performing Arts Centre presents |
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Nunsense |
| Book, Music and Lyrics by Dan Goggin Directed by David Belew at Metropolis Performing Arts Centre, Arlington Heights (map) through June 19 | tickets: $35-$43 | more info |
Reviewed by Jason Rost and Dan Jakes
At times, it seems that contemporary nuns exist solely for the purpose of parody. Dan Goggin’s 1985 musical Nunsense, stemming from his line of nun-humored greeting cards, was revolutionary when it came onto the scene with the inappropriate light it shed on the Sisters from Hoboken. Presently, Catholics aren’t in a great place for satire. Financial trouble, dwindling numbers, lawsuits and mainstream appeasement make the once-dominant entity lean closer to the Little Man than the Oppressor. Satire, of course, is all about poking holes in austerity and knocking the Big Man of his ladder; the Church has done a fine job of that on its own. Goggin’s play is more of a 
nostalgia-bath than a roast, but even so, with Catholics dismissing old-school severity and hands-off ornamentation in favor of a more accessible image, jokes dependent on being silly or naughty with full-habit donned sisters just don’t have the pop they used to. Nevertheless, Metropolis’ production certainly rejuvenates the undeniable phenomenon.
The morbidly clever conceit is that 52 Sisters have died after being poisoned by the convent cook, Sister Julia Child….of God. The surviving nuns were at bingo that night and skipped out on the killer soup. In order to raise money to bury the remaining dead nuns, Sister Mary Regina (Nancy Kolton) organizes a nun-produced fundraiser talent show. The proceedings offer belting nuns, the amnesiac nuns, the cooking nuns, the nuns getting stoned, the nuns kick line-dancing, the nuns shuddering at the scandalous length of Marilyn Monroe‘s skirt, and the nuns mispronouncing pop culture references. Mere redundant gags, they aren’t. No, these are test subjects, empirical data in an unscrupulous study that combs every aspect of convent-oriented humor which lead to the likes of Sister Act and Late Nite Catechism.
When entering Metropolis’ gorgeous Arlington Heights performing arts centre, you may think you’re entering the space of ATC’s Original Grease as the scenic designer, Michael Gehmlich, has created a set that perfectly mimics an old Catholic high school gym-atorium with glittery hand painted Grease posters complimented with Jesus on the cross in stained-glass illuminated above in the rafters. Yousif Mohamed’s lighting design expertly fills the expanse of the space and the light shifts play to the comedy sharply.
Director David Belew draws crisp energetic performances from his talented cast. Kristen Gurbach Jacobson’s choreography is the perfect mix of skill, camp and parody. The multi-talented Nancy Kolton as Sister Mary Regina ultimately carries the show by investing everything into the role, including a hysterical drug trip in which she gives her whole body to. Amy Malouf (Sister Mary Robert Anne) notably ascends above the sentimentality with her spot-on Brooklyn accent and her performance of “I Just Want to Be a Star.”
The success Nunsense and its sequels have enjoyed over the past two and half decades is nothing to shake a ruler at. You might even call Goggin’s shows “Nunsations” (oh wait, he already gave sequel number six that title). After glancing around at the Metropolis audience, it was easy to see why: buried shallowly under stabs at modernization (Snooki and Donald Trump references, anyone?), this nun-humor is an excuse to reminisce. Current and recovering Catholic school alumni eat up an allusion to student-herding clickers. The rest of the proceedings are slathered in well-meaning silliness and elbow-nudging puns.
If you did happen to grow up going to Catholic school, and you haven’t experienced Nunsense, Metropolis’ production is about as fun as this show gets, so “get thee to a nun-…” well, just check out this fine revival of a silly musical sensation that seems to be sticking around at least as long as there are baby boomers still around to repent.
| Rating: ★★★ |
Performances of Nunsense continue through June 19th. Schedule varies week to week and includes evening and matinee performances. The running time is approximately 2 hours with one intermission. Tickets range $35 – 43 and can be purchased online at www.metropolisarts.com or by calling the Box Office at 847.577.2121.
Review: Chicago One-Minute Play Festival (Victory Gardens)
New Festival Showcases Short Works by Local Artists, Sampler-style
by Dan Jakes and Oliver Sava
This May 15-16, Victory Gardens premiered Chicago’s first One-Minute Play Festival (OMPF), a benefit event that featured bite-sized works by an eclectic mix of prominent and upcoming local theater artists. Creator and “curator” Dominic D’Andrea originally debuted the series in New York in 2007, where it has since grown to San Francisco and Los Angeles . For its first ever stop in the Midwest, considering the event’s magnitude–50 playwrights, 10 directors, and nearly 60 actors–this year’s showcase demonstrated promising potential for an exciting annual Chicago theater institution.
That is, if it finds a stronger footing. Micro-plays are nothing new, especially in the Windy City, long-time home to the Neo-Futurists’ Too Much Light and Second City; one set the bar for two-minute plays, and the other made one-joke flash bits a sketch trademark. D’Andrea and producer Will Rogers’ OMPF also rides off the larger 10-minute play trend. Their efforts to boil down theater even further, though, prove to be fruitful–sometimes even enlightening. Below is a list of the night’s highlights.
Paper Airplane, Aaron Carter
| The finest piece in the festival. A young boy expresses his anguish over his father’s looming death while tossing folded paper planes across the stage. His ability to speak is limited to the papers’ flight, leaving him choked and frustrated with each audible crash landing. In less than a minute, Carter encapsulates the panic of grief, and animates the cruel handicap children endure to express pain. Those planes approached visual poetry. |
Two Vegans, Robert Tenges
| A couple engaged in love making–some of it hilariously acrobatic–get their kink on by dirty-talking their favorite (or to cool things off, least favorite: (“raw kale…raw kale!”) foods. At first, it’s funny nonsense. Then, after you uncomfortably internalize your own link between taste/sexual satisfaction, it’s hysterical. |
A Play, Kristoffer Diaz
| You’re the hero in this monologue. The audience member to your right is the protagonist. Your left, the antagonist. Diaz’s simple, straight-forward instructions don’t feel like a gimmick. His inconclusive end ponders some sophisticated ideas about the broader implications of storytelling, ones that resonate long after the play’s 60 seconds are up. |
The Last Walk, Lisa Dillman
| Sad pets are an easy go-to for emotional impact…but that doesn’t make using them any less effective. A dog reminisces about the good days with her very recently deceased owner. Confused, she brushes up against his dead body for affection…and if you don’t cry a little at the thought of that, then you’re a monster. Only a few high-pitched “aw’s” were heard in the house during an otherwise hushed fade-to-black. |
Inequity, Jake Minton
| Penis envy comes early for two little boys (played by full-grown adults, of course) in a school bathroom: One stands proud, pants down and bare-butted at a urinal, while the other sits devastated, hiding his…well, you know. Minton makes a nice little joke about men’s biggest insecurity. |
Haiku Fight, Caitlin Montanye Parrish
| A couple hashes out an argument by having a refereed 8 Mile-style slam, with Japanese poetry filling in for hip-hop. It’s a simple, wonderfully clever juxtaposition of the writing form’s serenity versus the needling aggravation of a relationship fight. |
This Just In, Stephen Louis Grush
| Liberal sensibilities about prejudice get turned over on their heads when one easily dismissible stereotype gets paired with one that’s equally unfair, but–for many viewers–may hit a little closer to home. Those might sound like the makings for a didactic issues play. With the right amounts of humor and levity here, they aren’t. |
Bag Thief, Laura Jacqmin
| A mix-up at an airport luggage carousel leads to suspicion and accusations. Jacqmin doesn’t quite know how to end her play–what she settles for lets the air out of its balloon and betrays her otherwise solid work. Up until the final seconds, though, it’s fun stuff watching two men calmly navigate each other’s logic and contemplate one another’s mind games. |
Blackout, Chisa Hutchinson
| As the name suggests, Hutchinson’s play takes place with the house and stage lights off. Her monologue discusses nyctophobia (fear of darkness) in friendly, clinical terms. Once she starts in about the ghastly things you could be imagining, it’s hard not to nervously giggle and realize you’re an adult who’s once again–briefly–afraid of the dark. |
In Not Our Finest Hour, Andrew Hinderaker
| You can spot a gag coming within the first few seconds of this context-free comedy. A line of actors take a swig from a water bottle and pass it on. Anticipation builds; titters slip. The fact that the punch line is exactly what you’d expect compounds the simple humor in this satisfying, straightforward piece. |
Wisconsin, Andrew Hinderaker
| Anyone who’s experienced the unique isolation of a rural Midwest winter can attest to the truth and melancholy spoken in this eloquent monologue. A young man describes a blackened hand rising out of the snow. Hinderaker’s vivid image is striking on conflicting levels–it’s unsettling, somber, and in its own way, serene. |
Free, Zayd Dohrn
| A United States Marine quietly bemoans the chaos of modern war and rejects America’s authoritative façade. His speech is upsetting for all the obvious reasons, and for some less common: notably, the futility of humanitarian efforts and the false hope instilled by the military’s hierarchy. |
A Short Story, Emily Schwartz
| A narrator gives up on his own story, much to the protagonist’s chagrin. Schwartz’s non-story leaves the nameless hero waiting and frustrated as the nonchalant storyteller signs off on her would-be adventure. Smart, funny metatheater. |
Love Play for Two Chairs, Seth Bockley
| When you think about chairs having sex (though in any other context, why would you?) the word “whimsical” probably doesn’t come to mind. And yet, like an x-rated Fantasia, Bockley and director Jeffrey Stanton achieve just that. Annoyed by the noise of his enchanted furniture getting it on, an apartment owner sets out to end his two chairs’ tryst. His solution is delightfully absurd–the fact that it’s irresistibly adorable makes matters even stranger. |
Unsolicited Advice for Next Year’s Fest
Now that the One-Minute Play Festival has taken its first entertaining, successful baby steps in Chicago, here’s what we at we’d would like to see from the show in its future incarnations…
A Greater Assortment of Styles:
Only a few plays in 2011 were noteworthy for really bucking traditional conventions. The message in Gloria Bond Clunie’s Falling about resilience in the face of natural disasters, for instance, wasn’t particularly moving or inspired, but her play stood out from its peers for its striking use of projections and puppetry. That left us with a question: How can the other works of 50 unique artists have looked so homogeneous? Talking animals, inner-monologues, contentless scenes and gripes about public transit bore the brunt of too many shows. No movement pieces? No one-minute musicals? Festival organizers take pride in the lack of dictated thematic guidelines for the playwrights (as they should). Still, there has to be a way to commission a more diverse body of work.
Super-titles:
Many of the short plays benefited from having the names of the shows known; some even took on new light. Dimmed houselights and tiny program font made seeing them impractical–unless you were really straining, you had to do without. An inexpensive or creative way to integrate the show names could further enrich the work.
Clear Intent Behind Curation:
Was there or was there not an intended arc to the evening? We couldn’t tell. Directors took on about 10 plays each, and their pieces were presented together in ten unique “clumps.” The order that clumps were presented in and the plays within them, though, did not have an obvious flow. Perhaps one wasn’t intended–regardless, having one might keep the night as a whole engaging.
The Chicago One-Minute Play Festival is produced as a benefit for Victory Gardens Fresh Squeezed, their alternative programming and audience engagement initiative. With a shared mission, both Fresh Squeezed and the festival aim to represent a wide and diverse range of playwrights, actors, and directors working in the great city of Chicago.
Reviewers: Dan Jakes and Oliver Sava
Sanity Break: Chicago floating in the clouds – beautiful!
Now this is Chicago like you’ve never seen it before. Breathtaking!!
Video by Craig Shimala. Love it!
Wednesday Wordplay: Bette Davis and her enemies
I do not regret one professional enemy I have made. Any actor who doesn’t dare to make an enemy should get out of the business.
— Bette Davis, The Lonely Life, 1962
Vanity and pride are different things, though the words are often used synonymously…. Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves, vanity to what we would have others think of us.
— Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice, 1811
Hysteria is only possible with an audience.
— Chuck Palahniuk, Invisible Monsters, 1999
Live in such a way that you would not be ashamed to sell your parrot to the town gossip.
— Will Rogers
Do what you love, love what you do, leave the world a better place and don’t pick your nose.
— Jeff Mallett, Frazz, 08-03-04
Jealousy is all the fun you think they had.
— Erica Jong, Fear of Flying, 1973
Sooner or later we all quote our mothers.
— Bern Williams
Review: The First (and Last) Musical on Mars (New Rock)
Too messy, even for schlock
| New Rock Theater presents |
| The First (and Last) Musical on Mars |
| Written by George Zarr Directed by Kevin Hanna at New Rock Theater, 3933 N. Elston (map) through June 19 | tickets: $10-$15 | more info |
Reviewed by Paige Listerud
I generally love schlock musical comedy. The emotions are elemental, the humor, raw, the plots, joyfully ridiculous. Yet, is it possible for schlock to be too schlock-y, even for schlock? Of course—and as Exhibit A, I present to you The First (and Last) Musical On Mars, onstage now at New Rock Theater. New Rock rocked Chicago twice with its utterly gnarly and awesome crowd-pleaser, Point Break Live! (our review 
★★★). But it seems that they’ve taken this fledgling comedy review too early from its nest.
Written and composed by former Sirius Satellite Radio spoken word maven George Zarr and directed by Kevin Hanna (musical direction Robert Ollis), The First (and Last) Musical On Mars still looks like it doesn’t quite know what it wants to be when in grows up. Angel Tuidor’s costuming and Ellen Ranney’s set design suggest heavy influences from 1970’s David Bowie and Roxy Music. Indeed, the use of glitter is almost blinding. But Zarr’s musical compositions are a hodge-podge of pop and Broadway. In fact, hodge-podge is a nice way of putting it. The tune “Sweet Alien Boy” is overlaid on the chord structure of Jimi Hendrix’s “Foxy Lady,” but its execution just doesn’t rock. The first act finale, “Sibling Rivalry”, can’t be described as anything other than a messy attempt at pop-operetta.
As space opera, The First (and Last) Musical On Mars is just too jumbled and patched together to excite. Add awkward scene transitions and the show barely holds together. But it does have a few fun and tender moments. Rock star James (Sam Button-Harrison) is forcibly teleported to Mars for the coronation of twin princesses Hendrixia (Gina Sparacino) and Hollilia (Meghan Phillipp) and, ta-da, romantic entanglements ensue. It’s certainly fab to watch the girls zoom about in their ship to the song “Retro-Rocket Warp Speed.” Once James lands, a few tender, romantic moments stand out with the coy duet between him and Holliliah with “Different Beings, Different Worlds” and Button-Harrison’s warm reprise of “You Take Me to Paradise.” It must be noted that the entire cast’s voice quality is quite above standard for musical comedy review. Now, if they only had the material to match their talents.
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So far as comedy goes, Matthew Isler’s dry robot servant, Electrolux, stands out–and that’s mostly because he has great miniature signage that he flourishes most effectively. All the same, with the exception of brief one-liners like “Earth guys are easy!” the entire book badly needs a rewrite. Dallia Funkaster (Casey Kells) and Zabathoo (Leah Tirado) make decent evil villains, attempting to kill the princesses and take over Mars, but that has entirely to do with their level of enthusiasm and not the writing. Meanwhile, the Chorus (Rachel Bonaquisti, Liz Hanford, and Allison Toth) always comes across sweet and lovely, while Jonas Davidow has to be thanked just for wearing a g-string.
But it’s back to the drawing board for the creator. Or his venture into the heart of shlock will be, dare I say, lost in space.
| Rating: ★½ |
The First (and Last) Musical on Mars continues through June 19th at New Rock Theater, 3933 N. Elston (map), with performances Fridays and Satrudays at 10pm and Sundays at 8pm. Tickets are $15, and can be purchased by phone (773-639-5316) or online at http://www.newrocktheater.com/tickets.htm.
Review: Three Days of Rain (Backstage Theatre)
Another memorable production from Backstage
| Backstage Theatre Company presents |
|
Three Days of Rain |
| Written by Richard Greenberg Directed by Matthew Reeder at the Viaduct Theatre, 3111 N. Western (map) through June 25 | tickets: $10-$22 | more info |
Reviewed by Jason Rost
We are often fascinated by the story of who our parents were before they had children since it is essentially how we came to exist. It helps us understand the lives of the most influential people in your life, and it guides us in our own quest for love and self definition. This idea played a large role in Backstage Theatre Company’s Memory, their impressive first play of their season. Other times these stories, as is the case in Richard Greenberg’s Three Days of Rain (known to many theatergoers as the play Julia Roberts flatly debuted in on Broadway), can be a great mystery to obsess upon for years. The overriding mystery is what binds six fascinating characters together played by three actors. Artistic Director Matthew Reeder’s direction in this Backstage production is strikingly human, intimate and traipses through these characters’ lives like a lone jazz trumpet traveling through time accompanied by well-suited recordings of Miles Davis doing the real thing.
In present day downtown Manhattan (or maybe more so the mid-90’s if you really do the math on years referenced) we meet Walker (John Henry Roberts) in a sparse spacious apartment. He is intellectual, searching and a narcissist. After disappearing in Italy his family had thought him dead. More specifically, his sister Nan (Rebekah Ward-Hays) and his old friend Pip (Tony Bozzuto) thought so. Upon finding his recently deceased father’s journal, Walker attempts to decipher the cryptic seemingly commonplace entries. Walker believes that his parents “married because by 1960 they had reached a certain age and they were the last ones left in the room.” Nan struggles with Walker’s return and his obsession with their father’s journal. Pip, a soap-opera star, has history with Nan, and Walker was – or still is – in love with him, causing interesting tension when any combination of the three of them is on stage.
Walker and Nan’s father Ned (also played by Roberts) was a great architect, or at least built one impressive house. Pip is the son of their father’s partner, Theo. In the second act Bozzuto, Roberts and Ward-Hays all take on the roles of their parents in the 1960’s. Greenberg’s writing is smart in how it takes certain words or phrases you hear in the first act and sprinkles them in the second act, showing you the roots of these ultimately poetic characters in linguistic parallels. We bear witness to all that Walker, Nan and Pip could not possibly know even if the stories were retold or handed down. They would have changed as all stories do through the course of history. Nevertheless, a few small words which Ned (Walker and Nan’s father) writes down carries all the weight in the world for each character involved in this play. Even if the meaning of those words died with Ned, they still have impacted the lives of these people profoundly whether the truth is known or not.
The performances of these six difficult characters to play are worthy. The hurdle is portraying two different characters that are clueless to what the other knows and yet finding the connection between them. John Henry Roberts was stiff at times on opening night and hit an occasional false note as Walker at first, but he eventually relaxed into the role and became fascinating during the ritual that ends the act. As Walker’s father, Ned, he brings a very different character to the stage that is vivacious and electric to watch. Ward-Hays is magnificent in her balance of anger and love as Nan, and then in her dreamier and more sexually charged performance as Lina. Bozzuto is dynamic displaying an exciting capability for detailed physical choices.
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Reeder makes a brilliant choice opening the second act by allowing the characters of Theo and Ned to spend the first couple minutes transforming the space in front of our eyes, bringing life into the abandoned apartment and turning it into an invigorating Manhattan architectural workspace of the 1960’s. It’s the same apartment as in the first act, but the makeover of the room is akin to time travel. Brandon Wardell’s set fills the Viaduct space perfectly, and his lighting on the windows does wonders to create the ambiance of the physical and emotional setting.
Greenberg’s non-linear storytelling is thought-provoking as only we, the audience, know the true gravitas of the words, “Three days of rain,” which Ned enters into his journal. However, perhaps this is the nature of history; it can never be retold exactly, nor needs to be. Walker and Nan come to their own necessary closure with their parents’ ambiguous history, and their father took his memories to the grave. What’s clear is that Backstage Theatre Company continues to excel in creating memories for theatergoers that are definitely unforgettable.
| Rating: ★★★½ |
Performances for Three Days of Rain run every Thursday through Saturday at 7 p.m. and every Sunday at 3 p.m., from May 20th through June 25th. No performance June 16th, added performance Monday, June 6th at 7:00 p.m. General admission tickets are $25, senior tickets are $22, and student tickets (with a valid ID) are $10. Group rates are available. Tickets are available through the Viaduct Theatre by phone, (773) 296-6024. For more information about BackStage Theatre Company and Three Days of Rain, visit www.backstagetheatrecompany.org.
Sanity Break: Best cover-letter ever???
Okay, we all know that the job-market sucks, and has for quite a while. Perhaps what job-seekers need is a new approach, say, like a revised cover modeled after the one below from Roanold. You might consider using it as a template – what could possibly go wrong?
Review: A Lesson Before Dying (Lincoln Square Theatre)
Stark simplicity amplifies Lincoln Squares’ Lesson
| Lincoln Square Theatre presents |
| A Lesson Before Dying |
| Written by Romulus Linney Directed by Kristina Schramm at Lincoln Square Theatre, 4754 N. Lincoln (map) through June 11 | tickets: $12-$20 | more info |
Reviewed by Paige Listerud
To call Lincoln Square Theatre’s A Lesson Before Dying rudimentary would be the understatement of the year. The production values of the set design by director Kristina Schramm may be low, its look stark and rough around the edges. That, however, works in the production’s favor at critical moments—evoking dark poetry about a young black man sentenced to die in the electric chair for a crime he did not commit. The meat and potatoes of Lincoln Square’s offering lies in the excellent characterizations of its little known cast, some of whom make their Chicago debut 
with this production. Hence, their cumulative efforts can be considered a small diamond gleaming in an unexpected spot. Go to witness the resilient, earthy, intelligent and vital performances that fill the church basement space Lincoln Square Theatre calls home.
Set in the pre-Civil Rights Era South, Miss Emma (vividly played by Mary Helena) wants the local schoolteacher Grant Wiggins (David Lawrence Hamilton) to intervene with her grandson Jefferson (Barth Bennett), who has just been sentenced to death for the murder of a white grocery store owner. At one point in his trial, Jefferson’s lawyer had argued that one might as well execute a hog as execute his client—from that point Jefferson only thinks of himself as a hog. Miss Emma hopes that the schoolteacher can speak to Jefferson and raise him up to believe in himself again as a man, so that he can die with dignity.
But Wiggins himself is a man burnt out on the futility of teaching in the rural South. The shack that stands for the schoolhouse he teaches in doesn’t have enough chalk to last through the year. His students spend more time playing with bugs than reading the old, used and worn out textbooks donated to them from white schools. His perspective on the impact he can make under such conditions has degenerated to impotent and sour cynicism. “Vivian, I’m dead here,” he tells his girlfriend, also a schoolteacher. But Vivian Baptiste (in a fresh and driven performance by Elana Elyce) pushes Wiggins to help Jefferson. Due to going through a divorce herself, Vivian cannot be sure of Wiggins, if he turns out to be someone people can’t depend upon—“Decent men back out. Decent men give up. Decent men change the rules.”
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The power of Wiggin’s story lies in the pressures upon him to be more than what he is – which he may be swayed by, but never really yields to. Romulus Linney’s adaptation of the novel by Earnest J. Gaines preserves Wiggins as a man filled with doubts, able to use only the most meager pedagogical tools at his disposal to draw Jefferson out. Vivian seems, at times, to want him to be a superman. The Rev. Ambrose (resonantly played by Rudolf D. Munro, III) definitely dislikes Wiggins’ secular leanings dominating Jefferson’s recovery and wishes there would be more God-talk involved in his redemption. But it’s the halting and uncertain nature of the schoolteacher’s mentality that allows him to be influenced by the person who matters most—the condemned man himself.
At the beginning, both Hamilton and Bennett’s play their characters too tight and shut down to allow for much emotional play. But both actors blossom into their roles organically—evincing profound, confrontational and revelatory moments the closer Jefferson comes to his day of execution. Flanked by the manipulative Sheriff Guidry (Ed Schultz) and the sympathetic Deputy Paul Bonin (Jereme Rhodes), Jefferson’s ability to recover himself and face his undeserved death becomes more about the transformation of a community than just his personal ordeal. Lincoln Square Theatre renders a poignant and profound drama on the value of human life that is more than worth the effort to seek it out.
| Rating: ★★★ |
Dates/Times: Continues thru June 11, with performances Fridays at 8pm and Saturdays at 3pm and 8pm.
Tickets: $20 ($12 students & seniors)
Purchase: credit card via Brown Paper Tickets; cash and check at door;
Reservations: 773-275-7930; Location: 4754 N. Leavitt St. Chicago (map)
Review: Porgy and Bess (Court Theatre Chicago)
We loves you, Porgy and Bess!
| Court Theatre presents |
| Porgy and Bess |
| Written by George Gerwin, Ira Gershwin, and Dorothy and DuBose Heyward Directed by Charles Newell Music direction, new orchestrations by Doug Peck at Court Theatre, 5535 S. Ellis (map) through July 3 | tickets: $10-$55 | more info |
Reviewed by Barry Eitel
On first glance, Porgy and Bess looks like the tale of a perpetual sucker. The crippled beggar Porgy, living in an impoverished South Carolina hamlet, falls for Bess, the most shunned woman in town, a coquette who runs with a jealous meathead. Due to Porgy being the only person who’ll let her stay at his house, the mismatched pair gets together, yet the woman retains a wandering eye. But Porgy puts up with all, even when she runs to New York when he’s out of town. Instead of throwing up his hands, he takes up his crutch and starts the journey north.
However, as Charles Newell’s excellent production at Court makes clear, there’s something astoundingly human about this tale. George Gershwin’s magnum opus showcases love and forgiveness in its treatment of Porgy and Bess’ relationship. Titular characters aside, the opera also delves into how a community copes with hardship. Even when those hardships are as insidious and gigantic as racism, poverty, and natural disaster.
Out of the millions of debates spurred by this show, easily one of the stupidest is if it should be classified as an opera or musical. Newell and music director Doug Peck took the best of both genres. I’d say the show is about 90% singing, keeping many of Gershwin’s recitatives. But they aren’t afraid to throw in a few spoken lines when a character needs to drop a truth bomb without the flourish of music. Newell also chopped down the supporting townsfolk of Catfish Row, so the stage isn’t flooded with actors with one line roles. It also makes the whole strong ensemble memorable.
Newell’s envisioning of this controversial tale adds a vibrancy and immediacy to the octogenarian opera. John Culbert’s off-white set invokes a weathered Carolina beach house, which goes well with Jacqueline Firkins’ breezy white costumes. Stark as it may seem, the design has its fare share of breathtaking surprises. Peck also tweaks the arrangements to great effect, adding some great traditional Gullah drum breaks as well as haunting stripped down acapella numbers.
While initially shunned, Porgy and Bess has seen lots of love from opera houses around the world (including a production at the Lyric in 2008). These productions promise grandiose sets and superstar vocals, with the plot lagging behind as an afterthought. That’s not the case here, where the plot (based on DuBose Heyward’s 1926 novel) is the main selling point. With Newell’s minimalist take, nearly all of the storytelling responsibility falls to the cast. They deliver with aplomb, searching the story’s intricacies and themes alongside us in the audience. I already had chills when Harriet Nzinga Plumpp warbled the first few notes of “Summertime.”
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Todd M. Kryger’s hulking performance as Porgy is just the right blend of majesty and vulnerability, and Alexis J. Rogers correctly portrays a Bess torn by love and lust. But the real jewel here is the supporting cast. Bethany Thomas as the pious Serena steals the show with her wickedly expressive singing style. She shreds right through the heart of “My Man’s Gone Now.” Sean Blake’s slick Sporting Life, the neighborhood dope dealer, is a similar delight. His rendition of “It Ain’t Necessarily So” drips with fun—it’s clear he’s having a great time up there.
Court boasts that this production is scrubbed clean of the racist smudges that have dogged Porgy and Bess from its opening night in 1935. I don’t know if I completely agree with that—much of the music still leans towards Europe instead of Africa. But Porgy and Bess is an American treasure, a spunky musical journey that combines stodgy Old World opera with the uniquely American creations of jazz, gospel, and blues. Newell’s production is a treasure in itself, grabbing this overly-familiar piece (“Summertime” is one of the most covered pop song in the world) and thrusting it into relevance.
| Rating: ★★★★ |
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Review: Dot & Ziggy (Chicago Children’s Theatre)
A little cuteness, a little charm, a lot of predictability
| Chicago Children’s Theatre presents |
| Dot & Ziggy |
| Created by Linda Hartzell, Mark Perry and the Seattle Children’s Theatre Directed by Linda Hartzell at Victory Gardens Biograph Theater, 2433 N. Lincoln (map) through June 26th | tickets: $16-$18 | more info |
Reviewed by Paige Listerud
Dot & Ziggy is Chicago Children’s Theatre’s first crack at targeting the baby and toddler audience—and, of course, those parents seeking a fun, interactive theatrical event to share with their youngest. Theater for the very young, age 6 months to 4 years, has been established in Europe and Australia for over two decades now and is just finding its audience in America, with Seattle and Minneapolis leading the way in baby and toddler theatre. Success for Dot & Ziggy could open the way to a whole new Chicago audience.
Created and directed by Linda Hartzell, Chicago Children’s Theatre also promotes Dot & Ziggy as childhood entertainment that doubles as “time well spent.” Clearly, the production was developed along early child development guidelines. The tried and true formulas first instigated by “Sesame Street” in the 1960s are all over this show. The production’s one variation from television lies in the moments it provides for interactive movement and sound. But the oft-repeated recognition of shapes, the recognition of opposites in language, as well as lessons on socialization – via the budding friendship between a ladybug, Dot (Roni Geva) and a skunk named Ziggy (Don Darryl Rivera) – are plainly safe, comfortable and predictable territory.
Far be it from me, not being a parent, to throw cold water on a theatrical experience that might be exactly what some parents want for their children—something that fits easily into parameters they’ve already been exposed to at home. Obviously, the young audience’s response to Dot and Ziggy’s friendship forms a far better indicator. Geva is charming in the dedicated earnestness with which she tries to make Ziggy see things her way. Rivera employs a hint of cheerful mischief in Ziggy’s opposition to Dot. It’s also a plus that Dot and Ziggy lead the audience with music from the lobby of the Victory Gardens Biograph Theater to the upstairs theatre space. Once inside, Nicolas Davio’s fresh and simple musical accompaniment forms a strong underpinning to the storytelling. By far, watching the kids react to the material may be the show’s biggest entertainment value—an element that reinforces the communal nature of live theater, both for adults and the very young.
I do question, however, an over-reliance on the Sesame-Street-model or an over-dependency on sociological approaches when it comes to creating theater, all with the intent that it be “good for children.” What can be lost is wonder; what results is a production that looks like it was created more by a well-meaning committee than by theater artists. Also, at some point, the question of whether parents really need to spend $16 a ticket to sing “The Itsy Bitsy Spider” with their children comes into view. Dot & Ziggy does have a very endearing original song near its end and one can only hope that further works for very young people, centered on greater originality and creativity, will be forthcoming.
| Rating: ★★★ |
Chicago Children’s Theatre’s Dot & Ziggy continues through June 26th, with performances Tuesdays-Thursdays at 10am, Fridays-Sundays at 10am and 12pm. Tickets are $16 on weekdays and $18 on weekends, and can be purchased by phone (773-871-3000) or online.
