Archive for June, 2011
Review: Ovo (Cirque du Soleil
Ovations for Ovo!
| Cirque du Soleil presents |
| Ovo |
| Written and Directed by Deborah Colker Grand Chapiteau Tent at United Center, 1901 W. Madison (map) through August 21 | tickets: $60-$130 | more info |
Reviewed by Larry Bommer
Newly prosperous in a sixth visit to the United Center parking lot, the blue-and-yellow “big top” chapiteau of the Cirque du Soleil provides a happy home for the insectivorous marvels of Ovo, a show to make you itch with delight. Writer-director Deborah Colker creates a dazzling, inventive fantasy of eight-legged lives aspiring to become circus legends and literally hit the heights. As the first female director for Cirque du Soleil, she also brings a less flamboyant, more nurturing quality to the spectacle: This “colony” is a happy place with less of the precious whimsicality that sometimes made past Cirque offerings a tad precious and arch. These disparate but beautiful bugs work and play together very well.
Ovo, which means “egg” in Portuguese, is also the show’s central symbol as a giant pod (that never hatches) is protectively transported around the vast tented arena and sprawling stage. It’s watched over by Michelle Matlock’s big-mama Lady Bug, Simon Charles Bradbury as the fatuous hive operator, and cute Barthelemy Gluminea as the bumptious Foreigner who clumsily courts Lady Bug. Their comic byplay always makes sense, unlike some confusing-to-irritating clown acts. So does the inevitable audience participation that they inspire as much as invite. And always in the background insect-performers busily crawl, flirt, flutter, cavort, play, work, eat and mate, just like your favorite ant farm but much more colorfully, given Liz Vandal’s entomologically awesome costumes.
But, of course, the draw in any ecosystem are the acts, organized here by splendid species. A hunky Dragonfly (Volodymyr Hrynchenko) can balance on any curve or surface and make it look so easy you hate him. Four Ants (from Asia) use their frenzied feet to balance giant kiwi slices and corn cobs, while Nadine Louis’ “cocoon” of aerial silk lets her soar as she incubates into a butterfly. To the usual Europop backdrop, two Monarch Butterflies swing on the same strap in a dangling duo that’s probably as risky as it looks, while Tony Frebourg’s sexy Firefly juggles everything with the kind of renewable energy we all long could use.
The big finales for each act are the Scarabs Volant, a flying act from Russia that sends bipedal beetles into literal flights of fancy to a contagious mambo, and the concluding Crickets, who explode all over a Trampoline-wall, bouncing over and onto an egg-filled nest as they perform achingly acrobatic flips and somersaults.
In between we get contortionist Web-Spiders, acrosporting Fleas, Li Wei’s mesmerizing Spiderman on the 
slackwire, and a strange dance of Legs poking out of trap doors and suggesting almost anything.
The strangest offering is the fascinatingly face-less Creatura, Lee Brearley’s marvelous amalgam of tube worms, anemones, and fleshy Slinkies. You’d swear there were two performers inside this marvelously morphing costume creation, as singularly weird a circus novelty as you’re likely to enjoy.
At the end the creepy crawlers serve themselves a giant Banquet. But it can’t be more bounteous than the glorious extravaganza enjoyed over the last two hours, as confetti butterflies explode all over the stage. Ovations for Ovo!
| Rating: ★★★★ |
Review: Chinglish (Goodman Theatre)
A charming if half-baked confection
| Goodman Theatre presents |
| Chinglish |
| Written by David Henry Hwang Directed by Leigh Silverman at Goodman Theatre, 170 N. Dearborn (map) through July 24 | tickets: $25-$73 | more info |
Reviewed by Lawrence Bommer
Two-time Pultizer Prize finalist David Henry Hwang is already well represented in Chicago–with Silk Road Theatre Project’s successful revival of Yellow Face (our review), a satirical fantasy about the perils of non-traditional casting and racial stereotypes. Now comes Goodman Theatre’s equally playful world premiere: Chinglish is a charming if half-baked confection about the dangers of faulty translation–between languages or lovers. The latter are a desperate American entrepreneur trying to sell English signage to a cultural center in the mid-sized (4 million) provincial capital of Guiyang, China and the ambitious vice-minister who has her own agenda for bedding him and securing the lucrative contract.
Like the film “Lost in Translation” (which uses its Japanese setting much better to convey cultural isolation as well as the mixed messages that complicate relationships and contracts), “Chinglish” employs supertitles rather than subtitles to deliver the “double takes” of minor and major misunderstandings. Coming fast and furious, these instantly illustrate the treacherous tricks that happen when idioms get mistranslated, either too literally or too abstractly. Almost half the play is in Mandarin Chinese: The comedy is not fooling around when it comes to impersonating culture shock.
Daniel Cavanaugh (bumptious James Waterston), a casualty of the Enron scandal, is hoping to recoup his losses by giving his Ohio sign-making company a new lease on life—in a very distant market. He seeks help from a volatile Australian émigré (Stephen Pucci), who can translate well but can’t hold his tongue when dealing with the Chinese officials’ courteous deceptions and elaborate double talk. Daniel thinks he’s found a more reliable ally in Xu Yuan (Jennifer Lim, subtle and sprightly), a mid-level government flunky whose idea of adultery is as much a negotiation as any business deal. All but inscrutable, she’s got designs against her boss Cai Guoliang (a minister of culture embroiled in nepotism and influence peddling). So, even more than in the U.S., in this hot-house world of intrigue that passes as Guiyang, the personal is the political and all’s fair in love and networking.
Continuing Hwang’s collaboration with Leigh Silverman (who staged the original “Yellow Face”), Goodman’s fast-moving, two-hour debut features dazzling revolving sets by David Korins that deliver instant and cunning locales, claustrophobically lit by Brian MacDevitt. These along with very slick work in two languages from a deft, cross-cultural cast keep this more than just an extended joke about funny English signs in Chinese hotels.
The problem is the play’s pull-out-the-plug ending: Its abrupt and even desperate resolution suggests that Hwang doesn’t know how to sort out his tangle of foreign mis-relations. He uses the opening and closing scenes–depictions of Daniel’s Powerpoint presentation on the difficulties of conducting business abroad–as a cop out as much as a framing device. We need a bit more closure than a giant theatrical shrug indicating “Well, you never know, do you, folks!”
| Rating: ★★★ |
News: David Henry Hwang’s Chinglish Headed to Broadway!
June 28, 2011 — NEW YORK (AP) — David Henry Hwang‘s new play “Chinglish” about a clash of cultures is coming to the Crossroads of the World.
The play about an American businessman’s difficulties trying to expand into China will make its Broadway premiere this fall at a theater to be announced later.
“Chinglish” is currently running at Chicago’s Goodman Theatre.
Leigh Silverman, who directed Lisa Kron’s “Well” on Broadway, will return to direct the Broadway production.
Hwang’s plays include “M. Butterfly,” which won the 1988 Tony Award, “Golden Child,” ”Yellow Face” and “FOB.”
He also wrote the books for the Disney musicals “Aida” and “Tarzan,” the script for the film “Possession,” and reworked Rogers and Hammerstein’s “Flower Drum Song.”
Copyright © 2011 The Associated Press. All rights reserved.
Review: Shout! The Mod Musical (Marriott Theatre)
An infectiously groovy romp from start to high-voltage finish
| Marriott Theatre presents |
| Shout! the Mod Musical |
| Created by Phillip George, David Lowenstein, and Peter Charles Morris Directed by Rachel Rockwell at Marriott Theatre, Lincolnshire (map) through August 14 | tickets: $41-$49 | more info |
The last time Shout! The Mod Musical was in Chicago, audiences were subjected to a seemingly tone-deaf ensemble of “singers” whose choreography included dry humping a hot pink shag-carpeted staircase. It was one of the most excruciating evenings at the theater we’ve encountered in Chicago in some 20+ years of theater-going (My review of that 2008 show is here, should anyone be interested.) . All of which I mention by way of context: Try though we might, we were not exactly enthused at the prospect of revisiting Shout!, despite the press release’s repeated and bold-faced emphasis on the fact that the Marriott Theatre’s production was a completely reconceived version of the original; we needn’t have been concerned.
Directed and choreographed by Rachel Rockwell and boasting an A-list corps of singer/dancers, Shout! is now an infectiously groovy romp from start to high-voltage finish. If you aren’t tapping your foot by the Isley Brothers-inspired finale, you need to ask yourself some tough questions about why you’ve got such a bad attitude. Victoria Lang’s re-conception of Phillip George, David Lowenstein and Peter Charles Morris’ is an absolute riot.
The best two things about this plot-less revue of nearly three dozen ‘60s hits? That would be the spectacular dancing and equally marvelous singing. That’s really all you need in this plot-free production. The dancing is primarily handled by an octet of world-class hoofers who bring stunning visuals to the words and music. The singing is the work of the all-female quintet of Carey Anderson, Brooke Jacob, Tammy Mader, Raena White and Jessie Mueller. They’re all powerhouses in their own right, but if I were a betting man, I’d put Mueller on Broadway within the next 12 months. Since she started working here a few years back, she’s grown from perfectly serviceable ingénue to mega-watt star. You read it here first: This may be her last show in Chicago before heading east as a headliner. Listen to her interpretation of “How Can I be Sure” – it’s an emotional and vocal bombshell that starts with a slow burn and ends with a galvanic belt that literally stops the show.
But as amazing as she is, this is not the Jessie Mueller show. Rockwell’s ensemble is running on all cylinders. Mader brings on the sass with numbers including “The Boat that I Row” and a hilariously lyric-free “Coldfinger.” White goes for broke and delivers sonic riches with “Son of a Preacher Man” (accompanied by a breathtaking pas de deux) and the rousing title tune.
Some of the numbers are woefully dated to be sure. Wives and Lovers – with its lyrical edict to never ever ever let your man see you without makeup lest he run off with the “girls” in the office – clearly hasn’t aged well in a post-Betty Friedan world. But it’s delivered with such a guileless spirit of fun, it’s impossible to get annoyed with the Stepford-wife instructive. Moreover, Lang has ordered the numbers wisely. Just when things are getting all too pre-feminist-era sugary, Mader struts out with “These Boots are Made for Walking” and shows the audience exactly which gender is in charge here.
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With each song, Rockwell creates a small story-ette, a scene about love, lust and/or the pursuit/demise of either. With musical direction by Ryan T. Nelson, everybody sounds terrific, especially on the tricky, extended a cappella numbers. The singers are broadly outlined types, some more outlined than others. Anderson is clearly the chirpy Donna Reed wannabe while Mader’s the saucy chick and Mueller’s the angsty one with the the lion’s share of emotive money notes. Everyone is outfitted in costume designer Nancy Missimi’s psychedelic rainbow of mini-dresses, fringed booty skirts and go-go boots (with Anderson clinging to the last vestiges of ‘50s twin-sets and circle skirts). As eye candy goes, it’s delightful.
Shout!, in the end, is a glorious guilty pleasure. It makes no demands on its audience, requires no thought, and delivers one fantabulous song ‘n dance number after another, none of which require the sort of effort that, say, Sondheim or even Rodgers and Hammerstein might demand. The show is a fast-paced 90-minutes of escapist fun. Fear not if you suffered through Shout 1.0 in 2008. This time around, the artists involved got it right.
| Rating: ★★★★ |
Shout! continues through Aug 14 at the Marriott Lincolnshire Theatre, 10 Marriott Dr., Lincolnshire. Tickets are $41 – $49. For more info, go to www.marriotttheatre.com or call 847-634-0200.
Artists
singers
Carey Anderson, Tammy Mader, Jessie Mueller, Brooke Jacob and Raena White.
dancers
Lauren Nicole Blane, Giovanni Bonaventura, Jaclyn Burch, Craig Kaufman, Jarret Ditch, Trisha Kelly, Sam Rogers and Melissa Zaremba.
behind the scenes
Andy Hite (lead artistic director); Rachel Rockwell (director, choreographer); Dr. Ryan Nelson (music director); Tom Ryan (sets), Nancy Missimi (costumes), Diane Williams (lighting) Bob Gilmartin (sound design); and Patti Garwood (orchestra director),
Review: Middletown (Steppenwolf Theatre)
Eno’s beautiful absurd linguistic musings on the mystery of life
Steppenwolf Theatre presents
Middletown
By Will Eno
Directed by Les Waters
at Steppenwolf Downstairs Theatre, 1650 N. Halsted (map)
through August 14th | tickets: $20 – $73 | more info
Reviewed by Jason Rost
Human civilization exists in a perpetual state of middle. We are always in the middle of something larger. We weren’t around for the beginning, and we won’t be around after the end. This is partly why the phenomenon of Judgement Day (which is Oct. 21st 2011 now, if you’re keeping track) gets any traction. It’s a humbling state to be in, the middle. Even in the life of a single person, all we ever experience is what comes between the beginning and the end. Will Eno’s 2010 play Middletown, now running at Steppenwolf directed with mastery by Les Waters, finds the beauty in how we fill this middle. Making the ordinary extraordinary: Eno takes the sentiment beyond the cliché and into an immediate awareness of self and nature.
Eno’s writing makes profound observations riffing on theatrical themes and conventions that undisputedly conjure resonance with another play about ordinary life in a small town, connecting the cosmos and day-to-day life. Thornton Wilder’s Our Town was undoubtedly a precursor for Middletown. However, Eno focuses more so on language (not that Wilder didn’t) than on shared sensory experiences. It’s more awe than nostalgia. He also contemporizes Wilder’s 1938 small town life, such as placing a character in outer space in present-day without being science fiction. While globally examining loneliness in a world of 6 billion people, Eno’s play, like Wilder’s, is ultimately a reflective tapestry of American life.
The play opens with a witty all-inclusive prologue, delivered by Tim Hopper with eloquent enthusiasm, welcoming the audience and displaying Eno’s fascination with words right of the bat. He continues by populating his town of Middletown (Martha Levy tells us in the program notes that there are 16 Middletowns in America) with typical characters that you might find in small town or suburban America. We are first introduced to the beat cop (played with wonderful contradiction by Danny McCarthy) who gives us our location in a Wilderesque manner, “Middletown. Population: stable. Elevation: same. The main street is called Main Street.” However, he quickly lets us know he’s no omniscient stage manager as he senselessly attacks Michael Patrick Thornton’s mechanic character, followed with quick remorse. Eno’s caricatures have flaws, which makes them all the more beautiful. He clearly taps into another inspiration of his, Edward Albee, in finding the absurdity in the existence of daily life.
The other inhabitants of Middletown include John (another scorching detailed performance by Tracy Letts before we lose him briefly to Broadway for a remount of Virgina Woolf). He is a divorced town handyman who has recently taken to reading. Mary Swanson (a career-turning performance by Brenda Barrie) is a newcomer to town. Her husband is absent constantly on business as she tries to settle in and begin a family. Mary and John’s relationship takes central focus, especially in the second act, as a portrait of friendship based on loneliness that is travelling in two separate directions. Michael Patrick Thornton (with pitch-perfect darkly comedic timing) plays a mechanic whose public and self perception has all but defined him as a “troubled person.” Rounding out the town are characters such as an apathetic tour guide (Alana Arenas), tourists (Molly Glynn and Hopper) and the landscaper (Keith Kupferer) who plants a tree while assembling an ancient ritualistic looking arrangement of rocks.
The end of the first act is actually a short play unto itself. Eno writes a metatheatrical scene where a group of audience members, who have just watched the first half of the same play we’ve just watched, discuss what they’ve seen. While this departure may seem contrived in lesser hands, Eno and Waters give insight to another form of being in the middle, this time the middle of a play. Kupferer is especially deft in his depiction of an audience member with very few words or thoughts about what he has witnessed. Arenas’ audience member remembers lines and phrases out of context; for her the world of the play doesn’t pause at intermission as she incorporates the words of the play into the discussions being had around her. This entire conceit may have proven more effective if it actually replaced the intermission which follows.
If the first half of Middletown is a masterpiece (which it is), then the second half is a good play with great moments. Eno departs a few of his linguistic conventions and lightness in tone in the second act to drive home a few more emotional and domestic issues. He brings us back down to earthly stakes. Simply put, it’s not quite as fun. The emergency room becomes a much more real place, with ordinary nurses entering a normal functioning hospital. However, Letts and Thornton each have lonely, deeply human and intensely primal moments that are on their own well worth a few of Eno’s slips into overt sentimentality.
Waters’ seamless transitions between vignettes compliment Eno’s script in pacing. The scene changes between Antje Ellermann’s painterly backdrops, tellingly plain aluminum sided houses, library, hospital and outer space are impressively quick. The visual of the astronaut floating high off the stage amidst a backdrop of stars accompanied by the Houston ground control is pure wonderment thanks to superb separation in Matt Frey’s lighting. In addition, this production highlights the artistry of casting director Erica Daniels as her cast fits their roles stereotypically, yet each has his or her own hidden eccentricities to break the mold.
While Middletown may not quite enter the American dramatic canon, Eno has unearthed some magnificent insights through language. His words are ultimately stronger than his dramatic structure, but he is so gifted in dialogue that there is never a lack of opportunity to ponder the significance of each word chosen. One of the highest compliments I can give Eno’s script, and this production, is that I walked out of the theatre with a greater sense of just how awesome the mystery of existence is, and just how simple and ordinary the thought is. People have written about such things before Eno, and people surely will in the future, but here we are in the middle with a near perfect thought-provoking play for the summer of 2011 crafted with great care by Waters and this Steppenwolf company.
Rating: ★★★½
Steppenwolf Theatre Company concludes its 2010/11 season with Middletown by Will Eno, directed by Les Waters, playing June 16 – August 14, 2011 in Steppenwolf’s Downstairs Theatre, 1650 N. Halsted St. Performances are Tuesdays through Sundays at 7:30 pm (Sunday evening performances through July 24 only). Saturday and Sunday matinees at 3 pm with Wednesday matinees on July 27, August 3 &10 at 2 pm. Note: The evening performance on Sunday June 26 begins at 6 pm. For tickets or for more information visit www.steppenwolf.org.
20 for $20: Twenty $20 tickets are available at Audience Services beginning at 11 am on the day of each performance (1 pm for Sunday performances).
Rush Tickets: Half-price rush tickets are available one hour before each show. Student Discounts: $15 student tickets are available online using promo code: “TOWN15” (Limit 2 tickets. Must present a valid student ID for each ticket). For additional student discounts, visit www.steppenwolf.org/students.
Artists
cast
Alana Arenas, Tim Hopper, Ora Jones, Martha Lavey, Tracy Letts, Brenda Barrie, Molly Glynn, Keith Kupferer, Danny McCarthy and Michael Patrick Thornton
behind the scenes
Antje Ellermann (scenic design); Janice Pytel (costume design); Matt Frey (lighting design); Richard Woodbury (sound design); Erica Daniels (casting); Laura D. Glenn (stage manager); Michelle Medvin (assistant stage manager); Michael Brosilow (photos)
Review: Five Lesbians Eating A Quiche (The New Colony)
Now extended through August 13th!!
Razor sharp timing and hilarity
| The New Colony presents |
| Five Lesbians Eating a Quiche |
| Written by Andrew Hobgood and Evan Linder Directed by Sarah Gitenstein at Dank Haus, 4740 N. Western (map) through |
Reviewed by K.D. Hopkins
Hello kids. It’s Dolores here, and boy did I have a great time at the Susan B. Anthony Society for the Sisters of Gertrude Stein annual quiche breakfast!
No really it’s K.D. – and I laughed until I cried at this sharp and whip-smart comedy from The New Colony. Five Lesbians Eating a Quiche is a full length expansion on an award winning sketch, taking place during the Eisenhower era in 1956, from Collaboraction’s Sketchbook X.
It is the story of a special ladies club that has an annual meeting to honor all things quiche and to pay special homage to the egg. No sausage allowed, and I do mean the slang definition for sausage. There were lots of men in the audience but everyone was given a special lady moniker for the evening. I was Dolores and my friend Kate was Edna. The names were right out of the 1930′s and entering adulthood in the paranoid 50′s. I extend my sympathy to the poor guy named Marjorie who bore the brunt of the ladies’ anger as the expelled Building and Grounds Chair. She brought a tomato and mushroom quiche to last year’s annual quiche-off and, gasp!, someone allowed sausage to invade the sacred quiche.
The play is hosted at the venerable Dank Haus on Western. The cultural center was transformed into the perfect combination of surreal Technicolor and bleak 50′s science fiction anti-communist propaganda film set.
The meeting comes to order under the guidance of four of the board members of the Susan B. Anthony Society. They swirl among the audience, tittering and gorgeous in some awesome costumes. There is Wren Robin played by Megan Johns in a yellow taffeta luncheon dress. She is joined by the very subservient Ginny Cadbury played by Thea Lux, with the perfect amount of twitchy insecurity. Delicate Dale Prist is played by Maari Suorsa in a what was known as a smart ensemble including a Brownie camera on a strap that matches her prim and asexual frock. The very funny and arch Beth Stelling plays Veronica "Vern" Schultz as the single career-gal to the hilt. Her running commentary and breaking the fourth wall never falls flat or gets old. Vern is the one who is handy with tools and has everything under control, including Ginny.
The ladies sing an anthem of their 3-times-a-lady-ness as long as they are joined by hands or linking arms. The President of this fine club of ‘widows’ and ladies is named Lulie Stanwyck played by Mary Hollis Imboden. She is a Midwestern farm gal dream in a peach ensemble, sublimely perfect down to the Mamie Eisenhower cap perched on top of mounded hair. Lulie informs the club that the egg is about as close to Jesus Christ as food can get with the fervor of a 1950′s bastion of society.
Having spent ample time studying the films of the Eisenhower era and late 40′s noir, I loved seeing the mores and traditions of that time turned upside down and twisted.
There was always the inference of ‘the love that dare not speak its name" in the films of that time. Barbara Stanwyck, Joan Crawford, and Jane Wyman all had a strange desexualized edge to their characters. The cast has a sparkling satirical take on the characters, society, and the look of the time.
Five Lesbians Eating a Quiche is written by Andrew Hobgood and Evan Linder with sly and subversive wit. The cast is blade sharp in the delivery as well as the physicality of the play. The reserved and girdled up ladies club visage is burst apart by the dropping of an atomic bomb. How lucky is it that Vern knows her way around a toolbox! She has converted the clubhouse into a bomb shelter with a self-sealing door and government approved double pane windows to protect against radiation. She also made the ‘Boys Life’ blue Madras curtains to further guard against radiation. Rations are saved but they forgot to bring in some of the wild chickens that caused the ax wielding explorer, Lady Marmont, to found the Susan B. Anthony Society for the Sisters of Gertrude Stein.
After the bomb drops, the action revs up into a breathless and wonderfully faux melodramatic comedy. The one liners fly and the lustful looks exchange. The male members of the audience are earnestly compelled to announce that they are lesbians. There is hope in Middle America that this race of women will start over and repopulate with the kitchen-baster baby that Lulie carries. However, there are no eggs, so the prize winning quiche is the last one until four years from now when the radiation will be safe.
The ladies share the last quiche in what should be a classic theater moment. Let’s just say that Ginny Cadbury really loves her some quiche. Paternity secrets are revealed and childhood trauma is on dramatic display in a dialogue out of Erskine Caldwell and Ernie Kovacs. Who’s the baby daddy? Lulie’s cousin Pope Jones? (Incest!?) Is Dale’s father Pope Jones not Lulie’s cousin? Then Dale cannot be the breeder to save the human race. Or is it the Black guy named Pope Jones? The only thing that matters is that Lulie and Pope’s bastard be raised on rationed quiche by the ladies. The problem is that all of the other contest entry quiches are on the other side of the door in the dangerous radiation. Will Dale save the quiche and be the heroine or will she have a Peeps-in-the-microwave moment? I’m not telling, because you should take a group of friends to see Five Lesbians Eating a Quiche.
Quiche is brilliantly funny and a delight to pick up on the film and cultural references. The play is directed by Sarah Gitenstein, who gives the actors the room to develop their characters. It is smoothly paced and has some great holy sh#! moments. Just like quiche, this show is meant to be shared with friends!
Exercise your retro-recognition and your laugh muscles by going to this play! Happy Summer! Love, K.D. Dolores.
| Rating: ★★★★ |
Five Lesbians Eating a Quiche runs Fridays and Saturdays at 8:00pm through July 30th August 13th at the Dank Haus, 4740 N. Western. Tickets are available by calling 773-413-0862 or at www.thenewcolony.org.
Review: A Clockwork Orange (DreamLogic Theatreworks)
Violence, live! And some serious ethics questions too
| DreamLogic Theatreworks presents |
| A Clockwork Orange |
| Book and play written by Anthony Burgess Directed by Scott McKinsey at The Rotunda, 1603 Orrington, Evanston (map) through July 2nd | tickets: $15-$30 | more info |
Reviewed by Jason Rost
The opening of DreamLogic’s production of Anthony Burgess’ A Clockwork Orange is shockingly resonant of some frightening current events in Chicago. A gang of teenagers enter the abandoned rotunda space carrying items such as a bat and an iPhone. They meaninglessly harass the audience, eventually picking out two audience members (obviously planted) who they brutally beat and rape. The senseless acts of violence by teenagers are something that has been on the rise in the Chicago area this summer. I personally know friends who have been attacked on red line trains in recent weeks. This fear is aroused during the disturbing first few minutes in director Scott McKinsey’s Clockwork. I’m not sure if that level of fear is ever reached again for the remainder of the production, but the rest of the play is consistently captivating.
If you don’t know the story of A Clockwork Orange, be it through reading Anthony Burgess’ 1962 novel or Stanely Kubrick’s 1971 masterful film, then it’s safe to say that Burgess’ own stage adaptation (which debuted at Steppenwolf in 1994) is an unjust introduction to the darkly satiric science fiction story. All of the main characters are present, most specifically Alex (Mikey Renan). He is violent beyond belief. He rapes children and kills old women all for fun. After getting arrested, along with his gang of violent offenders (who lose some individuality in the play adaptation), Alex is chosen for a new scientific experiment. After a barrage of sensory distortion, Alex is “cured.” He still has the will to commit violence, but now has a physical reaction to these urges and his body will not carry them out. Burgess’ story goes on to question the morality of this, and whether a human deserves the right to freewill even if their decisions are harmful to others.
To be fully honest, this production is a success almost entirely due to DreamLogic’s choice of found space. While there is talent amongst the direction and performances, this production would be nowhere near as entertaining as it is while the audience inhabits this abandoned circular room (which I believe was a bank lobby at some point) with high ceilings and windows all around. While you can catch glimpses of the Evanston crowd out to dinner, you feel a world apart in the surreal space. Each area of the vast room is designed to resemble a futuristic or post-apocalyptic playground. The laboratory set is a cross between Kubrick’s “2001” and Woody Allen’s “Sleeper,” giving us a 1960’s sci-fi glimpse of the future. The absurdness of the technology allows you to simply move past the HOW and straight onto the WHY.
Although the audience moves with the action, I don’t know if I’d consider the staging to be promenade. While McKinsey utilizes the Rotunda in a logical and intelligent manner, it’s more of a follow-along carousel of vignettes. Personally, I felt as if I was in a video game where you can walk within inches of the characters and they will usually ignore your presence. However, there could have been seats placed in each area for the audience to move to as the action went around the circle. While possibly not as engaging, it would have ensured that the audience is seeing what’s important at any given moment which can prove to be a difficulty here. Even with an audience on foot, there should be seating in each area simply for the comfort of audience members who physically cannot remain standing during the duration of the play.
Standout performances are given by Tyler Pistorius and Meg Elliot. Occasionally the cast proves to be a little uneven, and even flat in delivery. Mikey Renan hits a lot of aspects to Alex with brutal accuracy. He walks the line between intellect and barbarian. His bursts of fierceness give the production needed jolts. One primary downfall to his performance though is his vocal work. This is in part due to the cavernous Rotunda space, which sucks up sound. But it’s also that whenever Alex is in pain, or furious, Renan’s voice becomes so strained that many of his lines are difficult to decipher.
Samantha Egle’s violence design has several high points, but can get a little sloppy throughout the course of the show. With the massive amount of violence choreography making it incredibly difficult to hit every “nap,” unfortunately – in this style of staging – the sloppiness is all the more noticeable, especially if you happen to be on the wrong angle. However, there’s this sense with the free roaming of the audience that the violence has been let out of its cage and could strike anywhere.
Perhaps one of the most impressive elements of McKinsey’s production is that it stands on its own apart from the Kuberick film. While meditating on the same themes, it manages to remain theatrical rather than cinematic. This is Clockwork done live, which adds an element that neither the book nor the film can boast. While some of the brilliant narration and poetry of the novel are lost, at an hour and a half the action is on display in full visceral effect.
| Rating: ★★★ |
A Clockwork Orange runs through July 2nd at the Rotunda in Evanston. Performances are Fridays and Saturdays at 8 PM. Tickets are $15 students and $30 general. For tickets and more information visit: www.dreamlogictheatreworks.blogspot.com.
Review: Vincent River (Theatre Y)
Deliberate style and substance at odds
| Theatre Y presents |
| Vincent River |
| Written by Philip Ridley Directed by Melissa Hawkins at the Lacuna Artist Lofts, 2150 S. Canalport (map) through August 27 | tickets: $10-$20 | more info |
Reviewed by Jason Rost
For the second play in Theatre Y’s “Exiled Trilogy”, these artists have moved to another space about twenty feet from where the first play of the series, Exiles, is playing in rep. The audience veers into a white hollowed out office, almost looking like the set of a Mac commercial. In the first play of the trilogy, James Joyce’s script revolves around a character who was literally exiled and returns to his home country. In Phil Ridley’s Vincent River, we now get a slightly different, more contemporary, form of exile dealing largely with living lies and in the shadows due to one’s sexuality. While the story is real, the staging is anything but. Both hit the mark in their own merit, but neither ever quite complement the other in Melissa Hawkins’ precise yet jarring direction. Overall, the story wins out proving to be an intense slow-boil drama.
This is a sharply written 2-person play by Ridley. Anita (Laura Jones) and Davey (Kevin V. Smith) are at first an unlikely pair. Anita has seen Davey loitering outside her house and finally calls out to him. After inviting Davey into her home, truths are revealed methodically. We learn quickly that Anita’s son had been murdered and Davey was the one who found his dead body. These facts never change, creating suspicion and empathy for these scarred (in Davie’s case literally) connected people. As we learn that Anita’s son was beaten due to his homosexuality, the play takes on another layer of empathy. Nothing new is revealed about hate crimes, but it reconfirms how disgusting they are. Anita and Davey grow closer and closer to each other in this short while; unfortunately each time Hawkins has her actors pause to communicate a moment expressionistically through staging they become more two-dimensional and the gay themes of the play lose their humanity.
Jones and Smith deliver strong performances in which, by the end, they leave their guts on stage. And while the movement works, which I most closely identify as Viewpoints, may have served the actors well in rehearsal to discover their characters, it does not mean it will have an equivalent effect on the audience. Hours and hours in a rehearsal room can lead to experimentation and exploration of more theatrical storytelling. However, when the end effect does not help translate the story more directly to the audience, the point of this is lost on me. While any one picture of the staging could tell a story on it’s own, a play is constantly in motion and the characters of this play are stunted when they’re asked to do things such as headstands and slow molasses-like walks. In the end, these moments could play sharply if the intent was kept, but the world remains congruent to the dialogue.
The use of the framing device around the space is well done. One actor is left to leave the frame, yet stay in the room, allowing us to focus on the other actor. It also provides for photographic elements to the stage pictures. Paul Crouse’s set is fascinating in its starkness. In many ways this is enough of an escape from naturalism to allow the story to work without going any further. When the staging is more relaxed and explosions come from a truthful place within these characters, this little white box is ignited.
I think Hawkins’ concept can work – just not for this play. When the world of the production is already so bizarre and these characters have already played out moments within millimeters of each other, it’s hardly a surprise when Anita and Davey’s relationship takes on a sexual tone. The sense of space is weakened when actors are permitted to so easily encroach on each other, as it takes the possibility of tension away.
Davey accuses Anita of smothering her son while he was alive, saying, “Under your thumb, that’s where you wanted him.” I can’t help but feel that’s what the direction and choreography has done to this play. These are two incredibly bold actors that deserve some more freedom in this space to battle out this emotionally truthful story. When finally Smith leaves the frame of the box and exits into our world, I wanted to watch where he went to get a glimpse of how he moves and speaks with honesty in his natural environment.
| Rating: ★★½ |
Theatre Y presents Part Two of “The Exiled Trilogy,” Vincent River, by Philip Ridley. Performances play sporadically through Aug. 27th. Parking is available. The show runs 1 hour and 45 minutes with no intermission. Tickets are $10 Industry, $15 Student, and $20 General. For tickets and more information visit: www.theatre-y.com. All photos by Nathan Lyle Black.
Review: Marisol (The Artistic Home)
Conveniently apocalyptic
| The Artistic Home presents |
| Marisol |
| Written by Jose Rivera Directed by John Mossman at The Artistic Home, 3914 N. Clark (map) through July 31 | tickets: $20-$28 | more info |
Reviewed by Barry Eitel
Coffee goes extinct. Neo-Nazis run around parks setting homeless people ablaze. Men give birth. According to playwright Jose Rivera, these are a few apocalyptic signs we should look out for. His 1993 work Marisol follows one woman’s journey in a New York City gone crazier than usual. Just in time for the summer, the play gets a gritty treatment from The Artistic Home. Premiering, ironically, a month after Harold Camping’s rapture fail, the play explores modern ideas concerning the end of the world. While the play beautifully depicts the death of civilization, it tends to wander and ends up dipping into convoluted waters.
Rivera gained national attention with his screenplay for The Motorcycle Diaries and received a smart production of his Boleros for the Disenchanted at the Goodman a few years back. Marisol showcases a younger, angrier Rivera. His masterful grasp on language is evident. The vivid descriptions of the End of Days flow like graphically violent poetry.
Marisol asks massive existential, theological, and social questions. Although we never see it onstage, the play revolves around a divine war. Rivera pits a senile God versus rebellious angels, with humans impotently caught in the middle (as usual). The battle causes civilization to break down and all sorts of wacky stuff to happen here on earth. One night, Marisol (a straightforward Marta Evans) is informed that her guardian angel (Leslie Ann Sheppard) is going to the front lines and won’t be able to protect her anymore. She goes out into the world and meets all sorts of friends/foes, including her co-worker June (Kristin Collins), June’s nutty housebound brother Lenny (Brandon Thompson), a man with an ice cream (Andrew Marikis), and a woman in furs who was tortured after going over her credit card limit (Joan McGrath). She sidesteps Nazis, urinates in the street, and helps Lenny give birth.
The cast plays Rivera’s lines simply and honestly. Director John Mossman doesn’t have to pull out a lot of tricks with his staging because the text is fantastical enough (although he uses levels to interesting ends). Evans’ Marisol carries the plot on her back and does an admirable job, although devoid of flash. Thompson is the most lively of the bunch, adding much needed comic spice to the soup. He can also dive into emotional territory, though. The scene in which he shows Marisol where all the street infants are buried is easily the most disturbing, touching, and memorable in the play. Marikis, who appears in three similar nutjob roles, strikes the right mix of nervous anger and violence. You never know what he’s capable of.
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Although the program states that the play is set in the present, it is clearly a relic from the pre-Millennium era. It’s almost a period piece in that way, exuding an uncertain jitteriness about the future. Rivera’s two-hour epic is never dull, but you start to wonder where he’s leading us. His final thesis doesn’t answer any questions. I was unsure whether he’s making an impassioned call for atheism or giving a thumbs-up to organized religion’s better parts. He wants to make a statement about the inherent nature of human beings—characters constantly worry about being “eaten” by the human animals outside their door. Yet, Marisol is clearly good of heart. Rivera and Mossman present a series of ideas but don’t follow through.
Marisol jumpstarts with a great hook, but then the stakes evaporate. Rivera overcompensates with his lyricism and eerie characters. It’s not enough to make this play great, but it makes for an entertaining trip. Aaron Menninga’s innovative set is fascinating, covered with graffiti and aphorisms. Marisol may not be a great tale, but it’s a startling vision.
| Rating: ★★½ |
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All photos by Tim Knight |
Review: Fifth of July (Infamous Commonwealth Theatre)
Faithful revival of heartfelt Lanford Wilson
| Infamous Commonwealth Theatre presents |
| Fifth of July |
| Written by Lanford Wilson Directed by Edward Morgan at Raven Theatre West Stage, 6157 N. Clark (map) through July 10 | tickets: $10-$20 | more info |
Reviewed by Jason Rost
Lanford Wilson, who recently passed away this past March, was a master of capturing his audience’s heart while incorporating political and wry humor into the mix. This is most evident in his Pulitzer Prize winning play, Talley’s Folly. However, that play could not have been written if not for the first play in his Talley Trilogy, Fifth of July, now on stage at the Raven Theater in a faithful revival by Infamous Commonwealth Theatre Company.
Fifth of July, while being the first play written in the Talley Trilogy, is actually the final play chronologically in the story of the Talley family in Lebanon, Missouri. Sally Friedman (deftly played by Joanne Riopelle) is a supporting character here as family and friends of her nephew Kenneth (Stephen Dunn), a paraplegic gay Vietnam vet, gather at the family home to scatter the ashes of the deceased Talley patriarch, Matt. Kenneth has become reclusive along with his horticulture-nut boyfriend, Jed (played by Billy Fenderson, who adds some wonderful lightness to an often morose group of characters), who encourages Kenneth to take a job teaching English at the local high school despite his surrender to the real world.
The other visitors to the house include Kenneth’s sister, June (Whitney Hayes) and her daughter, Shirley (a perfectly cast Glynis Gilio) who is fourteen going on thirty. Also at the home are Kenneth and June’s friends from their unruly Berkeley years, Gwen (Erin Myers) and John (Josh Atkins). Their connection and history is slowly revealed, some aspects more predictable than others. Gwen and John have an ulterior motive for coming to the Talley home, in that they are hoping to buy the house to be used as a recording studio for Gwen’s fledgling country music career. Roy Gonzales is thoroughly entertaining as her spacey unpredictable guitar playing groupie, Weston.
There is such a strong sense that much has happened before this play, it’s a wonder that Wilson wrote this piece first, never intending it to be a part of a trilogy. It’s a common belief that Wilson only wrote the other two pieces in the Talley Trilogy because Mary Carver, the original Sally Friedman, wanted more background information for her character in Fifth of July. It skates upon background information in such a way that watching it as a stand-alone play can leave you feeling slightly left out, having a bit of catch up to do. The relationships are not laid out on the table in a contrived exposition.
Morgan’s direction is most noticeable in its fine pacing and structure. Dunn captures the defeatist nature and ultimate rejuvenation of Nathan subtly and honestly. Wilson’s writing can allow for languishing, but the actors clip along. Joe Court’s sound design provides a perfect soundtrack to the time period, reckoning the music of the rebellious 60’s which many of these characters are strongly connected to. Ashley Ann Woods’ scenic design fills out the Raven space expertly in creating the worn vastness of the Talley house. One small detail I noticed that distracted on the design spectrum was a bag of Scott’s fertilizer. It was the only element on stage that was clearly out of the appropriate time period with its computer graphic design on the contemporary bag. While not wholly taking away from the play, Wilson’s plays are deeply set in their time and every last detail should fit in the world. Analise Rahn, however, makes no missteps in her accurate and telling costume design, including a perfect dress for Shirley.
While this is a faithful revival of Wilson’s work, it doesn’t necessarily take many risks. Morgan gives us a crisp clean production that simply tells the story. A few more eccentricities throughout the cast may have aided in adding more intrigue to this family drama that is light on highly dramatic events. Nevertheless, it’s an interesting and transportive look into what the rebellious generation of the 60’s turned into a decade later. Many gave up their fight, and some held onto it. Resentment against Vietnam vets lingered on, as is evident with Kenneth, who made the decision not to run from the draft. It was a turbulent time, which is a point only hinted upon in Wilson’s play. With Shirley we see the next generation arising in the 80’s as she shouts at one point, “Me, me, me!”
| Rating: ★★★ |
Fifth of July runs at the Raven Theatre Complex through July 10th. Performances are Thursday through Saturday at 8:30 PM, and Sunday at 3:30 PM. Tickets are $15 student, senior, industry and $20 general. There is a special $10 performance on Sunday, July 3rd. For tickets and more information visit infamouscommonwealth.com or call 773-516-4528.
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Photos by Paul Metreyeon |
Review: The Homosexuals (About Face Theatre)
Now extended through August 21st!!
Provocative world-premier captures the contemporary homosexual experience with pride and honesty
| About Face Theatre presents |
| The Homosexuals |
| Written by Philip Dawkins Directed by Bonnie Metzgar at VG’s Richard Christiansen Theatre, 2433 N. Lincoln (map) through |
Reviewed by Oliver Sava
I know the Homosexuals. Evan (Patrick Andrews), the fresh-out-of-the-closet country boy just arriving in the big city, Michael (Stephen Cone), the eternal friend and confidant but never lover, Peter (Scott Bradley), the bombastic theater diva, Mark (Eddie Diaz), the heated activist, British Mark (Benjamin Sprunger), the off-limits foreigner, Collin (John Francisco), the heart-breaking true love, and Tam (Elizabeth Ledo), the straight girl that holds her own amongst her gaggle of gays. In each of them I see my closest friends and worst enemies, but more than anything, I see myself. The characters fit certain archetypes, certainly, but playwright Philip Dawkins has fully realized them in a way that makes them more than their respective stereotypes, greatly helped by The Homosexuals fantastic ensemble.
Bonnie Metzgar directs a production that will resonate with audiences both homo and hetero, building realistic relationships between friends and lovers that don’t get bogged down in the headier gay issues of the play. Evan serves as the anchor of the production, and the play chronicles key moments in his ten year history with the group of friends that introduced him to the city. Beginning with Evan’s breakup with Peter in 2010, the play moves backwards in time, and Andrews does an impeccable job tracing his character’s emotional growth in reverse. I’m a firm believer that the journey is more important than the destination, and the play’s two-person scene structure allows Dawkins to provide puzzles pieces that are then put together in the cathartic final group scene. Exposition is doled out efficiently without slowing down the pace, and the tidbits of information build up anticipation for Evan’s interactions with each character.
June is the perfect time to open The Homosexuals, as pride serves as the main emotional through-line of the piece. Over the course of ten years, Evan learns to take pride in his sexuality, friends, and self as he adjusts to his new queer life, and over the course of the play we see that pride stripped away. The Evan we see at the end of the play appears to be the same one at the start (plus one lucky baseball cap), but there’s a strength and confidence we see in 2010 Evan that is absent during his first encounter with the group in 2000. Andrews’ ability to convey that shift is what makes him such an extraordinary performer, and when he’s stripped in the transition sequences, there’s a noticeable change that goes beyond his wardrobe. There’s an understanding of the character that is so ingrained it’s nearly instinctual, and the entire cast has similarly created organic characters that are a joy to watch interacting with each other.
Dawkins’ script moves at a rapid pace, but his scenes are long enough that the characters are given ample time to establish their personalities and histories within the group, making each snapshot of a relationship enough to infer the greater details. The production doesn’t shy away from the importance of sex in the cultivation (and destruction) of gay relationships, and the ensemble is fearless when it comes to the more erotic material. Evan and British Mark’s scene quickly escalates into a flurry of sexual activity that comes to a sudden halt, and Andrews and Sprunger’s comfort with each other heightens the scene’s intensity. It can’t be easy to be put into some of those compromising positions in front of a full house, but these performers are able to reach a level of intimacy that makes it easy to forget the room has only two walls instead of four. Intimacy is the wrong word – more like wild, animal lust.
The strongest scene of the show comes at the end of act one, when Michael watches over a hospital bed-ridden Evan after he has his appendix removed. Michael is the only male character of the show with no sexual relationship with the others, and Cone brings a perfect, awkward energy to the character that is endearing but not quite alluring. When a drugged Evan suggests they show each other their members, a nervous Michael breaks into a monologue about key moments in his sexual development as a child, perhaps to avoid a potential sexual encounter. Michael is a fascinating character that is more concerned with building a family around him rather than finding a romantic partner, and his timidity reveals a fear of losing these friendships by pursuing a sexual relationship.
As the only female in the cast, Elizabeth Ledo represents her sex remarkably, and her sassy Tam brings an outsider’s view to the proceedings as she comments on the mind-boggling relationships that she sees develop among her gay friends. Serving largely as comic relief, Tam’s scene with Evan is one of the most issue-heavy of the play yet also one of the most fun. Discussing race and gender discrimination in the workplace, the deteriorating public school system, and the ideological gap between homosexual generations, Patricks and Ledo have a chemistry that keeps their debate lively and engrossing. Tam’s tendency to lighten the mood with her blunt sense of humor prevents the scene from being weighed down in the serious subject matter, making her a welcome dose of estrogen in the sea of testosterone. Like Michael, Tam is sexually removed from the rest of the group, giving her scene at the start of act two a nice sense of symmetry with the end of act one, a symmetry that continues with Evan’s sexually charged scene with Mark, a dark reflection of his earlier passionate encounter with British Mark.
The Homosexuals is a triumphant success for About Face, a play that tackles important social issues in the context of honest relationships with a cast and creative team perfectly in tune with the rhythm of the script. The problems these characters face are universal, but the ways they approach the solutions are specific and unique to their personalities. Where Dawkins’ script soars the highest, though, is in its depiction of the solidarity between a group of friends through good and bad; a family with a connection deeper than blood.
| Rating: ★★★★ |
About Face’s The Homosexuals, currently playing at Victory Garden’s Richard Christiansen Theatre, 2433 N. Lincoln (map), continues through July 24th August 21st, with performances Thursdays and Fridays at 8pm, Saturdays at 5pm and 9pm, and Sundays at 5pm. Tickets are $28, and can be purchased by phone (773-871-3000) or online at aboutfacetheatre.com.
