Archive for June, 2011
Review: The Last Act of Lilka Kadison (Lookingglass)
Now extended through August 21st!
Recent Tony Award not Lookingglass’ last act
| Lookingglass Theatre presents |
| The Last Act of Lilka Kadison |
| Written by Nicola Behrman, David Kersnar, Abbie Phillips Heidi Stillman and Andrew White Directed by David Kersnar at Lookingglass Theatre, Water Tower Water Works. (map) through |
Reviewed by Barry Eitel
This weekend, most of the people that put Lookingglass Theatre Company on the map were not at the opening for their latest show, The Last Act of Lilka Kadison. Instead, they were sitting in the Beacon Theatre in New York City—that other theatre town—scooping up the 2011 Tony Award for Best Regional Theatre. This marks the fifth such award belonging to Chicago, making one wonder if maybe the whole Tony venture should shift more Midwest. That’s not too likely happen, no matter how much tepid material Broadway churns out (with a few bright spots, of course).
Lilka Kadison, then, finds itself in an odd position. Considering the timing, it should prove that Lookingglass deserves that little statue. The play, collectively written by Nicola Behrman, David Kersnar (who also directs), Abbie Phillips, Heidi Stillman and Andrew White, is stylistically different from any Lookingglass piece I’ve seen—it’s in proscenium. But what seems like a conservative choice on the surface is really a storytelling maneuver. Kadison is still infused with the whimsy-tinged yet socially conscious ethos that made the company famous. While the story is jerky, there’s a heart-tugging journey with plenty of breathtaking moments.
As you might expect with a play containing the words “The Last Act” in the title, Kadison is a concise meditation on death. And life. Kersnar and friends based the piece on the writings of the late Johanna Cooper, who worked with Phillips on a radio series called “One People, Many Stories.” The duo recorded the stories of Jews from all over the planet and put them on the radio. The far-reaching narrative of Cooper’s tales resonate with this script, which traverses the Atlantic and the multiple lives of Lilka.
The play splits focus between two periods in the life of the titular female. In one, she’s a young, romantic Jewish girl (Nora Fiffer) living in Poland days before the Nazis strolled in. The other is the “last act,” where we find an embittered, cranky old woman (Marilyn Dodds Frank) left to die in her cluttered house. Her only companion is her live-in caretaker, Menelik (Usman Ally). Moving throughout both these realms is the charming Ben Ari Adler (Chance Bone), Lilka’s first love. He was there to protect her during the invasion and his spirit later haunts her, begging her to tell their unknown story to someone.
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The narrative moves along at a chipper pace, clocking in at 90 minutes with no intermission. The obligatory quirky theatricality here is the show’s homage to Yiddish theatre of the 1930’s. Adler drags around a toy theatre where he puts up elaborate puppet shows and schemes his larger theatrical ventures. Kersnar throws too much time and attention on these moments, though they never get close to boring. The actual love story is ill-developed, jumping through the courtship at an unbelievable pace. I can chalk some of this up to radical world circumstances and the story gets the emotional job done in the end, but I was longing for some more scenes detailing Lilka and Adler’s relationship.
Each of the performers holds their own against the technical hullabaloo going on. Bone is the highlight, exuding the urbanity of an old time movie hero, even when he’s operating puppets or doing some magic trick. Fiffer and Frank are interesting foils and both funny in their own way. Ally steals his fair share of scenes as the much-abused nurse. Props to the writing committee for giving Melenik enough depth so he’s not just another throw-away supporting character.
Kadison works because of its heart, plain and simple—though the delightful stage pictures help. The play’s final message is terse yet touching—give your mom a call.
| Rating: ★★★ |
Extra Credit: Check out this production’s wonderful study guide!!
All photos by Sean Williams
Review: The Chicago Landmark Project (Theatre Seven)
Chicago: A city with a past
| Theatre Seven of Chicago presents |
| The Chicago Landmark Project |
| at Greenhouse Theater Center, 2257 N. Lincoln Ave. (map) through July 10 | tickets: $15-$30 | more info |
| Written by: | Brooke Berman, J. Nicole Brooks, Aaron Carter, Lonnie Carter, Brian Golden, Laura Jacqmin, Jamil Khoury, Rob Koon, Brett Neveu, Yolanda Nieves, The Red Orchid Youth Ensemble and Marisa Wegrzyn. |
| Directed by: |
Jen Green, Lawrence Grimm, Jonathan Green, Brian Stojak, Ed Cisneros, Richard Perez, Rebekah Scallet, Eric Ziegenhagen, Jen Ellison, Megan Shuchman, Brian Golden, Vance Smith |
Reviewed by K.D. Hopkins
I love my city. Chicago is a scrappy rough and tumble kind of town, and if the natives embrace you-you’re in like Flynn. Theatre Seven of Chicago presents the psyche and environs of Chicago with The Landmark Project. Through twelve vignettes written in collaboration with numerous artists and performers, Theatre Seven has successfully illuminated the diversity of Chicago’s history and people in a thoughtful and entertaining way.
The short plays go through a good representation of the diversity and quirks that are unique to Chicago. This is a neighborhood town. All of the glitz and hipster attitude is a recent occurrence. It used to be that when you met someone from another neighborhood, the first question was, "what parish do you belong to?" That sensibility still exists in spite of gentrification and all of the polishing that the investment class seems to think is needed for a ‘world class city.
The cast is a big one, but the feeling of community glows from the stage. The Red Orchid Youth Ensemble were part of one of my favorite sections of the show. They represent a city kid’s eye view of "Lincoln and Webster" which is Oz Park. The ensemble hearkened back to the days of "Zoom" on PBS. I’m talking the 70′s version of the show with the secret language of Ubi Dubi and joy in being a kid. These kids were amazing. They were jubilant, wise, innocent, and quite funny.
“State & Madison: The Chicago Grid,” written by Marisa Wegrzyn, goes back to the origins of how Chicago got the grid street system. Tracy Kaplan and Joe Zarrow manage to convey the dirt street ruins from which arose this city as Irene and Edward Brennan in 1901.
The nod to the intelligentsia vibe of Hyde Park is given a sardonic and funny treatment in "63rd and Woodlawn: Robust Coffee Lounge", written by Brian Golden. It’s the land of University of Chicago and academic competitiveness. A man is faced with his past and a secret life that isn’t so secret. The dialogue is laced with the wry jostling of academia and an authentic bourgeois tilt that has always been Hyde Park.
Chicago has a complicated history with race and ethnicity. The story of "63rd and Kedzie: Arab American Community Center” turns the spotlight on a neighborhood that has been in flux for the last 40 plus years. It is known as the Marquette Park and Gage Park neighborhood. When I was in high school, it was the brewing ground for the neo-Nazi movement in Chicago; where Dr. King was hit in the head with a brick for protesting the virulent segregation policies. The story of "63rd and Kedzie" continues today with the Arab American community being the latest ethnic group under the microscope. This story is written by Jamil Khoury and the conflict is subtle yet powerful. The sense memory of that neighborhood back in 1975 comes to a fresh simmer. The dialogue is honest and there is no holding back on the confusion and anger of both sides. Peace and understanding can begin with one person. That is a lesson that still needs to be heard in some parts of Chicago.
"Division and California: Steel Flags" features a wonderful story of youthful awakening and the power of keeping secrets. A young Puerto Rican girl disappears and her sister keeps the secret that she ran away with a boy. The family is alarmed, putting up flyers, and agonizing over what could be a horrible fate. It is a finely paced story of the Puerto Rican community and the female bonds that are common in any ethnicity. This story features Marcel Asilis and Damariz Posadas as Cookie and Sonia whose bond is tested by a secret and defiance. There are some hilarious moments when the grandmother gets after Cookie with a shoe. She can sense that the truth is either a relief or the beginning of a long row to hoe.
Another favorite features two boys playing catch circa 1948 in "Devon and Kedzie: Thillens Stadium". This lovely story took me back to the days when baseball was not just the national pastime but the neighborhood pastime. The boys, played by Destin Teamer and Kevin Woodrow are tuned into the complexities of the game of baseball and barely notice that they are Black and White. They discuss which is the greatest Negro League player and who they pretend to be. The White boy says that the families are getting together for a picnic and it is only for a moment that the Black boy hesitates. This is his baseball buddy and not the enemy that they would be in some other part of the city. It should be noted that the Thillens Stadium is still going strong, proving the bonding power of sports.
All of the stories in The Chicago Landmark Project are authentic renditions of the feel and history of the respective neighborhoods. For the most part, all of the places remain more or less as they are portrayed. However, the final story is called "Belmont and Western: Riverview Amusement Park". This is the story of a haunting where there now stands a police station, grocery store, and toy mega-mart. My grandpa would take me to Riverview, at the time the nation’s largest amusement park, almost every weekend. I remember the thrill of seeing the eyes of Aladdin’s Castle moving from side to side and knowing that it would soon be cotton candy and kiddie rides galore. Riverview closed in 1967 before I was tall enough to ride The Comet or the Bobs roller coasters. When we drove by after it closed without warning, it seemed haunted and lonely to me.
In the segment, three teenagers come to where Riverview once stood. Sam Bailey is brilliant in the role of Karen. She projects intelligence and maturity while in the company of two confused teenage boys. Andrew Raia plays Hunter and his character has a not so secret crush on Karen. Arthur Soria is hysterical as the hip hop spouting Alvaro who loves to razz on Hunter and then pull the ‘I’m a person of color and therefore hipper than thou’ card. Suddenly lights start to flash and amusement park noises are heard. A man appears from nowhere, holding a teddy bear which he gives to Karen. This is to the chagrin of both Hunter and Alvaro. Desmond Gray plays Elijah, a swain and apparent apparition. Elijah proceeds to school the trio on the darker history of Riverview – there was a dunking tank called ‘Dunk the Nigger’ at Riverview – and the full gamut of ethnic stereotypes. Yet everyone loved to go to Riverview. The amusement park is all about illusion and fantasy and the theory goes that there is something for everyone. (I recall hearing that in a Riverview commercial during the old ‘Family Classics’ show.) Elijah asks Karen to accompany him and Hunter’s real feelings come out. Who will Karen choose? The fantasy man or the boy next door? Check out The Chicago Landmark Project to find out!
The Chicago Landmark Project is comprised of twelve short plays. They are divided in half as Part A and Part B. I recommend that you see both to get the full flavor of this wonderful project put together from the Chicago theater community. It is worth the time and the tickets to see the great young talent and the veterans portray Chicago. I came away feeling the grit of Chicago under my nails. Yes. it’s metaphorical but that is Chicago in a nutshell. It’s poetic, funny, solemn, hard working, and the city of big shoulders with just the right hint of danger.
| Rating: ★★★ |
"The Chicago Landmark Project" presented by Theatre Seven runs through July 10th at the Greenhouse Theater Center at 2257 N. Lincoln Ave. Program A will run Thursdays -Saturdays at 7:30pm. Program B will run Fridays and Saturdays at 9:00pm and Sundays at 2:30pm. For more information call 773-404-7336 or visit www.theatreseven.com
Note: It’s great as a child’s first exposure to grown up theater but the children should be 10 and up. Someone brought a baby to the show. I love babies and feel that children should be exposed as early as possible to the theater. However, if they are still wearing diapers and prone to cute monosyllabic babbling-please find a sitter. You deserve to enjoy both parts and hear every great line.
Photos by Amanda Clifford.
Review: Venus (Steppenwolf Theatre)
Heightened theatrics, linguistic acrobatics detract from heightened tale
| Steppenwolf Theatre presents |
| Venus |
| Written by Suzan-Lori Parks Directed by Jess McLeod at Steppenwolf Garage Theatre, 1624 N. Halsted (map) through June 19 | tickets: $20 (all 3 for $45) | more info |
Reviewed by Catey Sullivan
Look at the set of Suzan-Lori Parks’ Venus and you can see the all-but unthinkable humiliation of its titular heroine embodied in designers Scott Davis and Emily Tarleton’s creepy vision of a 19th century doctor’s laboratory. The room is filled with jars of pickled organs, the results of post-mortem dissections and “macerations” – the process of letting flesh putrefy so that the bones beneath it can be measured accurately.
The preserved specimens include the organs of Saartjie Baartman, a young woman taken from South Africa in 1810 and put on display throughout Europe as a sideshow attraction. Throngs of Anglos paid to see the “Venus Hottentot,” billed as a “wild female jungle creature” of the “Dark Continent.” Saartjie was displayed in an iron cage, and marketed with breathless, sensationalism as a monstrous display of 
grotesque femininity (an early example of the hypersexualization of dark-skinned women that continues to the present day). People were urged to queue up for a chance to fondle the Hottentot’s “great heathen buttocks” , said to be so freakishly large they rated comparison with a hot air balloon. Throughout Europe, men and women alike bought tickets to gape at Baartman’s labia minora, which were said to dangle like monstrous turkey wattles.
After Baartman died, her body was dissected, her organs measured and displayed in a French museum. Even in death there was no dignity for Baartman: Post-mortem, the most private of her private parts were still on display. In the Steppenwolf Garage Theatre staging, Baartman shares a stage with the remnants of her own body, creating a portrait of a woman who suffered the ultimate objectification. If much of today’s pornography dehumanizes women by reducing them to airbrushed images of body parts (and much pornography does exactly that), the reduction of Saartjie Baartman went far further by depriving her even of a face. She became, ultimately, a collection of parts in jars.
History has somewhat restored Baartman’s personhood. Her life is the subject of at least three plays, Parks’ being one of the earliest. Unfortunately – and despite that marvelous set and several fine performances – Parks’ play obscures the vivid, enraging heart of Baartman’s story. Baartman’s is an amazing, inherently dramatic and historically important tale that needs no heightened theatrics or linguistic acrobatics. Yet Parks weighs it down with plenty of both. In doing so, the playwright detracts from her subject’s humanity.
Directed by Jess McLeod, Venus begins with a confusing kaleidoscope of words and movement which does little to establish any kind of meaningful foundation for what’s to come. A “Negro Resurrectionist” (Michael Pogue) in contemporary dress shines a flashlight through the dusky, 1810 doctor’s laboratory, eventually discovering (or perhaps awaking? It isn’t clear.) an alabaster-white chorus of two (Ann Sonneville and John Stokvis), The Baron Docteur (Jeff Parker) and Venus herself (Mildred Marie Langford). During this hallucinogenic Night at the Museum pastiche, the audience also meets a sixth character, (Carolyn Hoerdemann), an androgynous, ominous person whose role isn’t immediately apparent. As preludes go, the percussive, stylized movements and poetry-slam style verbiage may well leave you wishing that Parks would just get to the point.
And so she does, sort of. When Parks sticks with a straight-forward dialogue and simply shows what happened to Baartman, Venus is strong stuff. Langford continues a stellar season (she did deeply moving work with in TimeLine’s In Darfur earlier this year), instilling Miss Saartjie Baartman with a sweetness and a humanity that makes her plight all the more heartbreaking. In an early scene when Baartman is lured to London, Langford displays the starry-eyed hope of a young woman promised riches – Baartman was a slave, which made the promise of financial freedom all the more tantalizing – for merely working as a “dancer” for two years overseas.
If anything, Parks downplays what happened next. On exhibit, Baartman was forced to squat naked in her cage, and display her genitals for endless crowds of people. The “dancing” involved stripping and shaking her buttocks while onlookers spat, or worse, at her. And although Britain outlawed slave trade in 1807, Baartman was kept as a slave. After London grew bored with her, she was purchased by a French animal trainer. When the French grew tired of her, she became a prostitute. Within five years of her arrival in London, she was dead, reportedly of syphilis. Parks glosses over much of this, instead spending much of the play showing a dysfunctional but not joy-free love story between Baartman and The Baron Docteur, who claimed to love her even as he planned to dissect her.
It’s always clear that the relationship is horribly unequal, but in Parks’ telling Baartman actually seems relatively happy in it. Instead of addressing the almost unthinkable sexual humiliation Baartman was subjected to, Parks presents a rather meaningless (meaningless because it’s never really explained) scene where the Docteur masturbates with his back to Baartman while urging her to do likewise. Thus does the Docteur seem kinky, unkind and entitled, and the relationship woefully unbalanced in terms of power. Such relationships are unpleasant, but they’re not the stuff of sexual slavery or soul-annihilating humiliation.
The largest problem here is that Parks’ Venus presents Baartman’s story from a safe distance. The ghostly chorus of two, the choreographed blocking, the rhythmic sing-song dialogue – all these things work to present a slightly abstract and somewhat prettified narrative. That ‘s an ill fit for the story of Saartjie Baartman.
| Rating: ★★½ |
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All photos by Michael Brosilow |
Review: Bonegrinders (Bendsinister Theatre)
An authentic, yet not wholly theatrical new play
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BENDSINISTER Theatre presents |
| Bonegrinders |
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Written by Melody Von Smith |
Reviewed by Jason Rost
While their name is up for debate, BENDSINISTER Theatre is a company packed with potential. The exact same can be said for the title and script of their latest production, Bonegrinders by Melody Von Smith, an environmental chemist and journalist by day. As you enter the RBP Rorschach space, set designer Noel Dominique has created an incredibly authentic looking bar. It’s so real, that you can purchase drinks from the bartender before the start of the show. It’s this authenticity that Von Smith and director Juan Castaneda excel at. However, getting the look and feel of a setting is not enough to make for a good theatrical outing. With such attention to realism, there is very little in terms of theatricality that merits this script being a play instead of a screenplay or television script.
Von Smith certainly has something with this script, but in its current state it lacks consistency. The theme of coming home from war and being unable to adjust to daily life has been told countless times, i.e. The Hurt Locker. The difference in Von Smith’s script is that instead of dealing with enlisted men and women, it deals with war journalists, but that difference is a fine line according to Von Smith.
Bendsinister’s Bonegrinders takes place entirely inside a typical neighborhood bar in Buffalo, NY. The story revolves around Sadie (played with great emotional capacity by Erin Elizabeth Orr), who has been recently widowed after her husband Lloyd, an embedded war journalist, was killed while working in the Middle East. The play opens when Sadie receives a letter from Lloyd, sent before he was killed, the day before his funeral. Her friends gather around her and attempt to comfort and advise her as she struggles to decide whether or not to open the letter. Further conflict arises when Lloyd’s best friend, Riley (Adam Dodds), a vigilante war photographer himself, returns for the funeral. A chaotic, at times muddled, mixture of anger, grief, and alcohol create a tumultuous atmosphere as events unfold and occasional truths are revealed.
Von Smith’s structure is where the play falters. The emphasis on giving each character their own storyline ultimately detracts from the central conflict. It appears to be a symptom of mimicking television episodic structure. The setting, characters and dialogue are exceptionally realistic. She has clearly given great thought and care to birthing each of these characters. Conversely, since we don’t have a 13-episode television series, and rather a two-hour play, you simply cannot stop the story immediately at hand from moving forward. If this were a play about “a bar” where different stories and different people enter and exit, then that might work. However, what we have is a play about a dead war journalist, his wife and his best friend. Taking detours to explore Devin’s (Greg Wenz) relationship with his father or Phil’s (Arch Harmon) restaurant business is superfluous and lessens the emotional impact of the primary narrative.
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The insights we gain on the life of a war journalist or photographer is minimal. It’s nothing that could not be discovered after ten-minutes of googling the subject matter. Also, while Mike Cherry, Orr and Wenz give thoughtful performances, the cast on a whole is uneven. Dodd’s emotional outbursts are often contrived and strained. Harmon is a good presence to the mix, but is unfortunately very difficult to understand at times as he recites his lines by rote. Castaneda gets the atmosphere and naturalism perfectly, but fails at helping Von Smith’s script out by not shaping and building it through pacing.
Von Smith is a playwright to watch, as is Bendsinister Theatre as a new company. Bonegrinders, while ambitious, just doesn’t hit the emotional heights it aims for and divulges very little information about the world of war journalism. It lands into soap-opera territory too often. If she would allow her supporting characters to, well, support…that focus would be a start at allowing her central characters to communicate the political, human and social depth she hints at currently.
| Rating: ★★½ |
BENDSINISTER Theatre presents the Midwest premiere of Bonegrinders, continuing through June 18th at the RBP Rorschach. Performances are Thursday through Saturday at 8 PM, and Sunday at 6 PM. A $15 donation for entry is requested. Performances are BYOB, with concessions available. Seats can be reserved by email at tickets@bendsinister.org or by phone at 773-234-2363. More information can be found at bendsinister.org
More info on Von Smith and the initial production of Bonegrinders: http://www.buffaloathome.com/detail.aspx?dct=54&id=6520&mid=240&loc=rss
Review: Boobs and Goombas (Geek Girl Burlesque/GTT)
Millennial burlesque for the gamer geek and more
| Geek Girl Burlesque and Gorilla Tango Theatre presents | ||
| BOOBS AND GOOMBAS: | ||
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| Created and Directed by MsPixy at Gorilla Tango Theatre, 1919 N. Milwaukee (map) through June 25 | tickets: $20 | more info |
Reviewed by K.D. Hopkins
As one officially entrenched in the days of Atari’s Pong , I was a bit intimidated by the thought of the art of burlesque combined with Super Mario Brothers. I do okay with Brick Breaker, cell phone Blackjack, and Ms. Pac Man. When video games evolved into plots and more than five characters, I went back to regular card games.
BOOBS AND GOOMBAS: A Super Mario Brothers Burlesque at Gorilla Tango pulled the veil off literally and fused the gamers with the offshoot of old Vaudeville-Burlesque. Always seen as the stepchild of Vaudeville, Burlesque was deemed for the baser elements in society. That statement doesn’t count in these days of fluid and open sexuality. This generation of 20-30-somethings was reared on crazy colors, vivid colors, sounds, and fantasy. BOOBS AND GOOMBAS is directed by Ms. Pixy who also runs the Belmont Burlesque Review. Ms. Pixy brings experience from another local legendary neo-burlesque outfit Vaudezilla. It was an excellent night at Gorilla Tango. The house was filled with hip Bucktown denizens and me. I brought my 27-year old daughter to keep me from any geezer-like faux pas that would embarrass her.
Boobs and Goombas is quite authentic and entertaining. Burlesque is all about comedy and making fun of everyone’s foibles. Back in the day, it was making fun of traveling salesmen and naughty nurse sketches for the comedy section of a burlesque show. Like they say in "Gypsy" you gotta have a gimmick and the gimmick of the popular video game is original and funny. Coo d’Twat and Lily e’Claire play Mario and Luigi respectively. They are energetic, and it is a bit of a freak out to see a kids game come to life.
In B & G, Mario and Luigi are looking to save the beautiful Princess, played by Sweet Ginger Rose. The Princess goes from pretty and femme in pink to freak of the week tribal in Good and Plenty colors. Sweet Ginger Rose is the center of the most funny part of the show with her monster voice.
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They are costumed in primary colors of red and blue against a brick wall representing the game board. The props of pipes and tubes are a visual turned into naughty double entendre. The various characters swoop in and out in some whimsically caricatured costumes. Hazel Hellbender as Chomper struts out dressed in a Kaiser inspired leatherette corset complete with bullet belt and helmet. Lacy Lay does a Sally Rand number with the veils on her lovely orange sari. (There has to be a Sally Rand tribute in any good burlesque show.) Ms. Rand scandalized and titillated early burlesque aficionados and was legendary for her fan dance. Ms. Lay does not scandalize but gives a graceful and funny performance.
The comedy interludes are done very well by the hysterical and properly manic Diva la Vida as Toad. The references to raccoon tail and mushrooms have a different meaning of course – or do they? The Mario Brothers game always seemed to have a hallucinatory quality in regards to the anthropomorphized characters. The game is ramped up with a nice side of kink in BOOBS AND GOOMAS.
Penelope Paddedbustle enters as the Turtle in balloons and a peek-a-boo turtle with moving underbelly panels. The yellow patent leather boots lend a Ken Russell element I wasn’t expecting. I had a flashback to the movie "Tommy" and the Cousin Kevin character. I admit that a lot of my youthful entertainment had burlesque elements as well. The audience was appreciative and really into the show. They walked up to put money in a jar to get the alternative ending promised by Mario and Luigi. Every time a dollar hit the jar a Mario Brothers sound byte plinked over the sound system. I don’t know if there is a real alternative ending in the Nintendo game but this show spun what I was expecting on its’ head.
Now, the curmudgeon in me must speak. I really liked BOOBS AND GOOMBAS as a modern take on the art of Burlesque, but I have other parameters for the art form. Burlesque as art is also based on illusion, and the lovely ladies in this show were more unmasked than is considered traditional. No one wears stockings in this show and bare legs don’t pack the same punch as a hosiery clad legs. Also, most of the cast is on the thin side. Legends like Gypsy Rose Lee and Sally Rand weren’t quite as athletic looking. In fact, some of the ladies look as if they could use a nice meal.
Yikes! I’m turning into my grandmother.
| Rating: ★★★ |
BOOBS AND GOOMBAS: A Super Mario Brothers Burlesque, through June 25th (and probably extended beyond that), is a great way to get your ‘hipster geek’ pass. It plays Friday and Saturday nights at 11:00pm. It’s good to get there a little early and take in some of the vibe of Bucktown. Gorilla Tango is located at 1919 N. Milwaukee Ave. in Chicago. Call 773-598-4541 or visit www.gorillatango.com for tickets and information. The show is 18 and over but for my fellow geezer geeks there are alcoholic beverages served. Enjoy and dust off the Super Nintendo in the storage space after you see the show.
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Artists
MsPixy (creator, director); featuring Austin DeVil, Barbie Q, Betty Bootycushions, Cinnamon Twist, Coo d’Twat, Diva LaVida, Hazel Hellbender, Lacey Lay, Lady Lemon Drop, Lily e’Claire, London Derriere, Penelope Paddedbustle, Piccola Tushy, Roofie Colada, and Sweet Ginger Rose
Review: Theophilus North (Organic Theater)
Wilder’s final novel enchantingly dramatized
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Organic Theater Company presents |
| Theophilus North |
| Written by Matthew Burnett Based on the book by Thornton Wilder Directed by Alexander Gelman at Greenhouse Theater Center, 2257 N. Lincoln (map) through June 26 | tickets: $29 | more info |
Reviewed by Jason Rost
I, Theophilus North, quit my job!
This is the line we hear from the title character in Matthew Burnett’s marvelous dramatization of Thornton Wilder’s 1973 novel, “Theophilus North”. Many of us can relate to the liberation of quitting a job, be it in actuality or daydreams. Bryan Wakefield, as Mr. North, describes the feeling perfectly, “I feel like I’ve been released from a hospital after a protracted illness.” The story is in many ways autobiographical for Mr. Wilder. Mr. North hails from the great state of Wisconsin, as did Wilder. They both developed a desire to travel the world, something that Wilder did, only to realize later that the world exists wherever you are, not in some far exotic land. This is a 
theme found in Wilder’s Our Town as well as Theophilus North. However, the character of Theophilus North comes to this conclusion by staying put while Wilder himself did travel the globe to find that the cosmic reaches of the universe can exist within a small New England town just easily as Paris or a tropical island. Director Alexander Gelman’s production with Organic Theater Company is whimsically minimal and strikes all the nuances of Wilder’s tale with great wit and charm.
Instead of Grovers Corners, Theophilus North finds himself in Newport, RI. It’s meant to be a brief pit stop to make some extra money to travel the world with his newfound freedom. He states, “I find myself like Columbus, seeking funds in Ferdinand’s court before the great voyage.” He takes up a job as a tennis coach in town, despite having no experience in tennis. However, he meets his first student, Eloise Fenwick (another delightful performance from Kristina Cottone in rep with her role in The Naked King). She takes a liking to Mr. North despite his failed tennis skills and gets him a job teaching French to her pretentious brother, Charles (Colin Jackson). This leads to a string of jobs in which Mr. North finds himself deeply involved in certain upper class townspeople’s personal affairs through no attempt of his own to meddle.
He finds a job reading literature to a philistine woman (a multifaceted performance by Philena Gilmer) and unlocks her love of books, all the while teaching her philandering husband a lesson in marital appreciation through Shakespeare. North goes on to save a doomed marriage based on young lust from taking place. On top of all this, he teaches an old man (Ryan Massie) that he still has some life in him despite the claims of his daughter already counting her inheritance. After developing these relationships and learning the intimate details of the people of Newport, North comes to the realization that he is a part of the world there as much as anywhere. Perhaps what is most impressive about Burnett’s script is how quickly you forget that the lines are written by Burnett rather than Wilder himself. It’s a true excavation of the literary great.
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Bryan Wakefield’s performance is brimming with confidence and restraint. North’s attachment to Newport is gradual; we can see the subtle shifts as Wakefield grows closer to these flawed yet lovely people. While the rest of this cast fills in the supporting roles eloquently, I couldn’t help but imagine how much more resonant the piece would play if there were a diversity in age throughout the cast. The twenty-some actor Ryan Massie impressively embodies the movement and mannerisms of Dr. Bosworth, but there’s a level missing when the role lacks the presence of an actor over 60. It’s not enough to take away from the production on a whole, or distract, it’s just enough to make you wonder how much greater of an emotional effect the play could garner with a few older actors in the mix.
Despite a degree of missed depth in age-blind casting, Wilder and Burnett’s story gets told most refreshingly. Melanie Parks’ costumes truly exhibit spring of 1926. They help differentiate the classes of characters very well, and the white/beige color scheme fits the era and the light nostalgia of the story exquisitely. This lovely Organic production merits an outing, especially for Wilder fans, to see this scarce-produced dramatization about discovering the world and adventure in the places and people around you.
| Rating: ★★★ |
Theophilus North plays in rep with The Naked King (our review) at the Greenhouse Theater, 2257 N. Lincoln Ave (map), through June 26. Performances are Thursday thru Saturday at 8 pm, Saturday matinees at 3pm, Sundays at 3 pm. Tickets are $29. Running time is 2 hours, 20 minutes with one intermission. For tickets, call 773-404-7336 or visit www.organictheater.org.
Review: Lighthousekeeping (New Leaf Theatre)
Every new beginning leads to a new beginning
| New Leaf Theatre presents |
| Lighthousekeeping |
| Written by Georgette Kelly Based on the novel by Jeannette Winterson Directed by Jessica Hutchinson at DCA Storefront Theatre, 66 E. Randolph (map) through July 17 | tickets: $18-$25 | more info |
Reviewed by Keith Ecker
New Leaf Theatre‘s world premiere of Georgette Kelly‘s adaptation of Lighthousekeeping shines as a poetic, touching and clever piece of theatre. Epic in scope and lengthy in duration, the play has a Dickensian quality with its tale of hardship, chance and maturation. The production’s highly skilled actors bring the Scottish countrymen to life and imbue the dynamic relationships with genuine tenderness and, as the case may be, ruthlessness.
The play takes place in Cape Wrath, Scotland. The protagonist, Silver (portrayed as an adult by Tien Doman and as a child by Caroline Phillips), is sent to apprentice with the town’s lighthousekeeper after the untimely death of her mother. The lighthousekeeper Pew (Ron Butts) is an old blind salt-of-the-earth kind of fellow who enjoys a good Scottish yarn as much as he enjoys puffing away on his pipe. His grandfatherly charm serves to quickly forge a loving paternal relationship with Silver.
Silver attentively hangs on every one of Pew’s words as he relates stories of the sea and the strange men who have passed through Cape Wrath. One of these men, Babel Dark (Daniel McEvilly), is of particular interest. Dark was the son of the man who originally erected the great lighthouse. He was a minister, torn apart by his futile attempts to appear good in light of the sinister secrets he tried so desperately to conceal.
One day, a letter arrives in the mail at the lighthouse informing Silver and Pew that the beacon is set to become automated. Once more, Silver loses a home and a family and must find a new beginning. The play then follows her journeys as she weaves her own tapestry of true-life tales.
Doman and Butts are stunning. Like a couple of barnacles clinging to the hull of an iron ship, the duo latch onto the audience’s heartstrings, pulling you instantly into the action of the play. Like all little actresses, Phillips as young Silver is simply adorable. But she’s not just a cute face. The young thespian has an instinctive sense of timing and her ability to honestly emote is impeccable for an actress of her age. McEvilly as the two-faced minister roars like a lion when he reveals the character’s darker half. He succeeds in being deliberately shocking and frightening.
Although I am not familiar with the original work by Jeanette Winterson, this adaptation reads like poetry without the nebulous loftiness that often plagues such dialogue. Classic Scottish storytelling conventions, such as striking imagery and astute metaphors, are used throughout to great effect. And the plainspoken characters ensure that the script doesn’t approach contrivance.
With all the accolades that Lighthousekeeping deserves, there are a couple tweaks in order. The play’s second act, in which Silver sets out on her own journey, tends to ramble. As she gets lost in the world, the audience loses focus. Also, although there is overlap between the main plot and the story of Babel Dark, there’s not a clear connection as to why these two stories are being told simultaneously. Both are engaging, but jumping back and forth becomes confusing.
Lighthousekeeping is a masterfully executed adaptation. Performances are top-notch, and the script flows with the energy of a babbling brook. Although some may drift during the second act, the emotional ending will grip you, leaving you with moist eyes as you exit the theater to live out your own story.
| Rating: ★★★½ |
Lighthousekeeping continues through July 17th at DCA Storefront Theatre (66 E. Randolph), with performances Thursdays-Saturdays at 7:30pm, Sundays at 3pm. Tickets are $25 ($18 for students/seniors), and can be purchased from the DCA box-office. More information at newleaftheatre.org.
All photos by John W. Sisson, Jr.
Review: See You in the Mourning (Naked Theatre Chicago)
Naked Theatre’s inaugural production shows it’s a company to watch
| Naked Theatre Chicago presents |
| See You in the Mourning |
| Written by Bill Zimmerman Co-directed by Burtney, Hedden, Tucker and Zimmerman at Charnel House, 3421 W. Fullerton (map) through June 18 | tickets: $10-$15 | more info |
Reviewed by Dan Jakes
The only real difference between a reunion and a wake is the presence of a corpse.
The rest is more or less the same: forced small talk filled with updates and pleasantries, hastily-pressed dress shirts, inappropriate laughter, boredom, shame, and pot luck dishes. Most notably, visitors of either come to the same sudden and off-putting realization of how much time has gone by since the last gathering with the same crowd. Bill Zimmerman capitalizes on the old "why do we only see each other when someone dies?" sentiment in his new play about four siblings who do just that.
Half of Naked Theatre’s collaborative premiere presentation is devoted to the interfamilial squabbles of the Winters–two brothers and two sisters who’s common language is passive-aggression and smarmy quips. Zimmerman and company go to great lengths to draw divisive lines between the siblings. Save for similar ages and shared parents (for the most part, anyway–there‘s the requisite adopted child), the four young adults have little in common. An uptight gay man clashes with his aggression-prone bro; sister and sister have Odd Couple-style conflicting outlooks on responsibility. The cross-section continues likewise. With each progressing aunt and grandparent that goes toes-up, a new point of contention is curtly whispered among the clan from the back pews.
Family dysfunction has had a cozy home in the American theater. While not illuminating much new about blood-relative dynamics, the young ensemble members (Natalie Burtney, Bethany Hedden, Christopher L. Tucker, and Bill Zimmerman, all hailing from the same Wayne State theater program) share an unmistakable rapport not unlike an extended family. Rare bonding moments read as genuine. That too goes for the script: sentiments like a sister’s desire to pray-the-gay-out of her brother are at once condescending and deeply compassionate, and unspoken feelings of alienation are played out with realistic nuance.
The other, more sophisticated half lightly satirizes the counterintuitive conventions of the wake and funeral processes. Anyone who’s experienced the death of an immediate family member can identify with the portrayed Kafka-esque parade of hugs and handshakes you have to endure when–emotionally battered and confused–you’d rather be alone and not have to play nice with anyone. Same goes for glue-sticking last minute collages, picking music (everyone fancies unconventional upbeat ambiance, evidently unaware that no one is in the mood for “Here Comes the Sun” while weeping in a church), or assuming a particularly old and distant relative was dead in the first place. Rigid formatting and decent storytelling suggests Naked Theatre is getting its bearings–See You in the Mourning’s inspired ending suggests it’s a company to watch.
| Rating: ★★½ |
| photo: Ecstatic Photography |
Naked Theatre’s See You in the Mourning continues through June 18th, with performances Thursdays-Saturdays at 8pm at Chicago’s Charnel House, 3421 W. Fullerton (map). Tickets are $20 ($15 for industry and students), and can be purchased online at brown paper tickets. For more information, visit the production’s Facebook page.
Review: The Cherry Orchard (Raven Theatre)
Spastic antics level Raven’s ‘Cherry Orchard’
| Raven Theatre presents |
| The Cherry Orchard |
| Written by Anton Chekhov Directed by Michael Menendian at Raven Theatre, 6157 N. Clark (map) through July 23 | tickets: $30 | more info |
Reviewed by Dan Jakes
Chekhov and Shakespeare frequently find themselves paired together in the same sentences, and for good reason. Look at their respective repertoires, and you’ll notice striking similarities: both writers layer styles, open-ended philosophical questions, tones, and character intentions, often in the same scenes. No two playwrights in theater history achieve more poignant insights into how people interact and tick; look no further for bodies of work that lend themselves to unique visions and interpretations. The Cherry Orchard–a work as melancholy as it is hilarious–calls out for inspired readings that highlight different aspects of the text.
Staging a play that’s so full of details, it’s a mystery why Raven Theatre Artistic Director Michael Menendian insists on a mad-cap, sketch comedy-inspired, thin-skinned production. By sketch, by the way, I don’t mean SNL–think something along the loud, grating lines of MAD TV.
The Cherry Orchard is indeed a comedy, but bumbling cannot substitute substance (Fernando S. Albiar aught to consider athletic gear for the all the time he spends flailing and falling as Yeikhodov). Chekhov’s story about a family’s inability to accept its fall from grace detours from traditional comedic conventions. Most comedies portray a collective character perception of high stakes in low-stake situations; Chekhov’s doomed romantics and spendthrifts suffer from the opposite and don’t take their imminent situation seriously enough. Raven’s production chooses neither, abandoning emotional authenticity in favor of outsize gestures and broad physical jokes. Even straight man Lopakhin (Frederick Harris)–The Cherry Orchard’s Michael Bluth–is subject the over-the-top, surface-skimming character choices. Here, necessary tragic elements gets steamrolled. Like a light switch, Varya (Helen Young) clicks instantly on and off, sobbing like an infant for humor one moment and then standing inexplicably content the next. The play’s philosophical speeches, which are usually uttered aloud with intentional ambiguity, are delivered stand-up soliloquy style to the audience. It’s as if Menendian is going out of his way to make sure we don’t feel anything, unaware that when the drama dies, so goes the levity.
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Already hindered conceptually by an over-simple interpretation, Raven’s production is marred by basic production elements. The preview performance I attended featured confused staging and stilted action–issues that aren’t commonly solved by another few runs. As Ranevskaya and Trofimov, Joann Montemurro and Michael Peters provide some heart to the otherwise shallow production. In that respect, they’re alone. If the rest of the family doesn’t really seem to care, why should we?
| Rating: ★½ |
The Cherry Orchard continues through July 23rd, with performances Thursdays-Saturdays at 8pm and Sundays at 3pm. Performances take place at Raven Theatre, 6157 N. Clark (map). Tickets are $30, and can be purchased by phone (box office: 773-338-2177) or online at TicketTurtle. Free parking is provided in a lot adjacent to the theatre; additional street parking is available. For more information, visit raventheatre.com.
Review: Chicago the Musical (Broadway in Chicago)
The new razzle dazzle as pertinent as ever
| Broadway in Chicago presents |
| Chicago |
| Written by Fred Ebb, Bob Fosse and John Kander Directed by Walter Bobbie at Oriental Theatre, 24 W. Randolph (map) through June 12 | tickets: $30-$95 | more info |
Reviewed by Lawrence Bommer
Now in its fifteenth year, this slimmed-down, near-concert version of Kander and Ebb’s cynical and enthralling musical features, as the smoothly lying lawyer Billy Flynn, John O’Hurley (J. Peterman in “Seinfeld” and a fixture on “Dancing with the Stars.” It’s a sardonic case of art-mutilates-life: As the press-wheedling lawyer in this sexy-strutting, Tony-winning revival of Chicago, O’Hurley exactly recalls Johnnie Cochran at his ingratiating worst. His deadpan asides and silky put-downs are passive aggression at its most insidious.
Chicago proves again how everything old is new again. For Maurine Watkins‘ crime-based comedy (an amoral companion to “The Front Page”, its equally cynical contemporary), the time is 1926, when a shyster flim-flams a credulous jury with "razzle dazzle." Following acquittal, Chicago murderesses Roxie Hart and Velma Kelly–former rivals turned reluctant partners–enjoy brief vaudeville glory at, among many venues, our old McVickers Theatre. Then "Chicago’s killer-dillers" sink into the obscurity that was interrupted by two unpunished slayings.
Forget the Jazz Age backdrop: this "drop dead" musical is as cunningly current as the Casey Anthony trial. The target for Kander and Ebb’s wicked 1975 musical, vibrantly restored in Walter Bobbie’s stream-lined staging, is phony celebrities, a prurient press that wallows in the vices it pretends to scorn, a bottom-feeding public who prefer killers to victims, and the cynical credo that showbiz sucks on somebody else’s sorrow.
Add to this deja vu our tabloid/talk-show penchant for forgiving confessional criminals who plead for pity over punishment–and Chicago seems as contemptuous as a former IMF honcho under condo arrest.
Told as vaudeville (with the 20 songs depicting "acts of desperation"), Chicago moves a lot faster than justice. Set inside gold frames (the inner one enclosing the first-rate band, the outer the in-your-face stage action), the hit-and-run scenes shake and shimmy. Stripped of sets (who needs a chandelier or helicopter with songs like these?), director Walter Bobbie focuses on the song-and-dance glories that Bob Fosse bequeathed to Ebb’s infectious score and that Anne Reinking lovingly reconstructs.
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I treasure the memory of seeing Gwen Verdon and Chita Rivera on March 1, 1978, in a touring production at the old Blackstone Theatre, as well as the late Michael Barto‘s 1994 Prologue Theatre revival. But this fiercely concentrated second-coming invents its own showbiz heaven. Supple as panthers, the silky-smooth, superbly-conditioned cast slink through "All That Jazz" till the theater risks meltdown. "Razzle Dazzle," spiced with a shower of silver sequins, a mirror globe and a descending bank of backlights, amounts to a Broadway orgasm.
At the vortex of Reinking’s carnivorous, bump-and-grind choreography is four-star bravura work. Terra C. MacLeod’s Velma is hilarious as half a dance team in her frenzied "I Can’t Do It Alone." Tracy Shayne remorselessly turns Roxie Hart into a lethal mix of Jean Harlow and Leona Helmsley. O’Hurley has contagious fun swaggering among simpering, feather-fanning chorines in "All I Care About," and big-bosomed Roz Ryan, as a Cook County dominatrix-matron, tears the soul from her ragtime anthem "When You’re Good To Mama." Ron Orbach, repeating the part that fits him like his ugly costumes, is suitably self-effacing as Roxie’s nebbish husband Amos and, memorably, T.W. Smith‘s toxic depiction of a sob-sister reporter is as deceptive as her crime stories.
Thanks to this sizzling production, Chicago’s summer just got a lot hotter.
| Rating: ★★★★ |
All photos by Paul Kolnik
1997 Tony Awards
Review: The Naked King (Organic Theater Chicago)
Children’s theatre fluff not yet matured
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Organic Theater Company Presents |
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The Naked King |
| Written by Yevgeni Schwartz Directed by Alexander Gelman at the Greenhouse Theater Center, 2257 N. Lincoln (map) through June 26 | tickets: $29 | more info |
Reviewed by Jason Rost
The idea of running a repertory company can provide several theatrical benefits, as it does in many European theaters. It allows the audience to see the same actors in different roles, gaining an appreciation for the craft, as well as allowing the ensemble to build strong chemistry. However, the key to making this work, and to maintain versatility in casting, is to have variety in your ensemble. With Organic Theater Company’s production of The Naked King, we instead get a cast of almost entirely white males in their 20’s. Throughout the production, there are several roles that would benefit from diversity in age and sex to add some depth to this fluff which the company surely is striving to do. For instance, while the male-in-drag characters are moderately funny, it’s not necessary to have each ‘lady in waiting’ played by a male actor. Actually, it’s funnier simply by juxtaposition if two are women and only one is a man in a dress.
Another symptom of a rotating repertory is that one show can come off noticeably more polished and rehearsed than the other. Playing in tandem with the delightful adaptation of Thornton Wilder’s Theophilus North, this cocktail of three Hans Christian Andersen tales in The Naked King is clearly a few steps behind. However, there are certainly moments of pure fun and humor in Russian playwright Yevgeni Schwartz’ 1930’s adaptation that Organic hits. It may just be that a few of the jokes have gotten lost, or lost their edge, in the adaptation from Russian to English. The stories chosen by Schwartz to intertwine are, “The Swineherd,” “The Princess and the Pea” and “The Emperor’s New Clothes.”
The play opens with our swineherd, Henrik (Jonathan Franklin) and his faithful sidekick Christian (Michael Kim Lewis). Henrik lures a clueless princess he has fallen in love with, Henrietta (a very talented Kristina Cottone, doing a lot with the stereotypical ingénue role), to his farm with the promise of a magic kettle. She naturally falls in love with the amorous young lad, even though they are from different classes. It’s the same old story, as her father, the king (Richard L. Gross) forbids their love and the kids run off. As the other plots of the fairy tales are encountered, they do more to muddle the plot than enhance it. However, there are funny bits throughout; especially Henrietta’s scripted insults Henrik gives her to dissuade another king from falling in love with her, in somewhat of a reverse-Cyrano situation.
Alexander Gelman’s staging helps keep the action afloat, utilizing every possible exit of the Greenhouse space to its full comedic potential. The examination of the weavers’ magical clothing is especially notable in one of the funniest physical scenes of the night involving invisible/non-existent clothing. The actors encountered a few hiccups in timing and fumbling of lines at the performance I attended. This is not to say this cast isn’t incredibly talented. Ryan Massie exhibits wonderful comedic timing, proving to possess the most innate ability to transform from character to character, including the king’s poet. The moments the performances fall flat may be a symptom of the repertory format. In Europe, casts will rehearse the plays for 6 months in this style of producing theatre. I can’t be sure, but The Naked King came off under-rehearsed in the end. Scenic designer Terrence McClellan’s 90’s neon-colored fun house frames are functionally smart, but the aesthetic lends itself to making the production more juvenile.
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I can understand the attraction to doing this script as a group of artists. It has an immense possibility for fun, movement and freedom with familiar characters. Nevertheless, the script itself seems to have been too easy for this company as they tried to enhance it deeper than what exist on the page. The production wants to be an insightful look at these fairy-tales from our youth through adult eyes, but instead it comes off as a bunch of grown-ups running around acting like children with just a small handful of more ‘adult’ moments. Any one of the three individual stories shortened for a youth audience would be more effective. Schwartz’ collection is a constant hit-or-miss hodgepodge of tales that have seen much more wondrous adaptations on their own.
| Rating: ★★½ |
Organic Theater Company’s The Naked King continues through June 26th, with performances Thursday through Saturday at 8PM, with 3PM matinees on both Saturday and Sunday. Performances are located at the Greenhouse Theater Center, 2257 N. Lincoln (map). Tickets are $29 for each show. For more information visit: www.organictheater.org.
