Category: World Premier
Review: In Pursuit (Hobo Junction)
 |
In Pursuit Written by Breahan Eve Pautsch Check for half-price tickets |
Review: Black & Blue (Factory Theater)
 |
Black & Blue Written by Anthony Tournis and Nick Digilio Check for half-price tickets |
Review: Put My ___ in Your ____ (The Mammals)
 |
Put My ____ in Your ____ Written and Directed by Bob Fisher Check for half-price tickets |
REVIEW: A Beautiful Spell (Rare Terra Theatre)
 |
A Beautiful Spell Written by Greg Kalleres Check for half-price tickets |
Review: Cirque Shanghai Extreme (Navy Pier)
 |
Cirque Shanghai Extreme
Directed by Miao Miao Chen Check for half-price tickets |
Review: A Girl with Sun in Her Eyes (Pinebox Theater)
Strong performances surrounded by nonsensical plot
| Pine Box Theater presents |
| A Girl With Sun in Her Eyes |
| Written by Joshua Rollins Directed by Matt Miller at The Second Stage, 3408 N. Sheffield (map) through August 7 | tickets: $35 | more info |
Reviewed by Catey Sullivan
A Girl With Sun in Her Eyes only works if you’re willing to suspend your disbelief into a massive bridge across not one but two otherwise utterly unbreachable chasms. The holes come in the form of actions by characters who, in real life, would be more likely to sprout wings and fly than actually behave this way. As fine as the performances are in playwright Joshua Rollins’ drama, they’re stuck in a story that’s held together by glaring contrivances. If Rollins’ characters behaved like people in the real world, there’d be no story.
Consider: Would a tough, veteran undercover police officer – someone who has survived three years posing as a prostitute – leave a suspect alone in a room along with ridiculously easy access to materials that reveal her real identity? Not unless there was no other way to advance the plot she wouldn’t. For that matter, would she 
still be working undercover if her cover had been blown? No she would not, although Rollins would have us believe otherwise. Never mind that Officer Lucy has been not only identified but publically threatened by a young man of the ‘hood in which she works. She’s still “undercover”, picking up potential johns at the local strip club, taking them to seedy hotel rooms, leaving them alone to rummage through her stuff, and (number four in the roster of This Would Never Happen gaffes) occasionally opening the door without checking to see who it is first (never a good idea when somebody has recently threatened to kill you.)
Still, Rollins’ plot holes insofar as the cops are concerned crop up fairly late in his 90-minute drama. The biggest problem occurs within the first two minutes, as William, a middle-aged white man in a starkly lit conference room, takes a blow to the skull from a detective clearly operating in accordance with the John Burge School of Interrogation. In real life the extremely well-connected William would demand a lawyer as soon as that first, bone-crunching punch landed. At the very least, he’d name-drop/demand to call his extremely high-placed connections. But William does nothing of the kind. Instead, he submits to extensive torture, stonewalling interminably. He does this because if he didn’t – if he acted like any other well-connected, middle class white guy with no arrest record suddenly getting beaten to a pulp by a rogue cop – the play would be over in less than five minutes. Instead, it winds on for an hour and a half, until William is rescued by the modern-day equivalent of a deux ex machine.
So much for the plot in A Girl With Sun in Her Eyes. There are inconsistencies of character here as well. For example: Would a cop who has no compassion take the time to explain to someone begging for mercy why she has no compassion? No. The compassionless don’t bother to explain themselves; that’s one of the defining characteristics of being hard-hearted. You don’t care what people think and you certainly don’t feel the need to justify your cruelty.
In the program notes (following a Dickensian bit of autobiography replete with references to “meager belongings” and a rather self-important mention about how no one else in his entire family went to college), Rollins discusses the existential matters of chance and how the tiniest of margins – a few feet – can make a world of difference in the direction of a life. But despite its preponderance of characters making bad decisions that snowball into catastrophe, A Girl With Sun in Her Eyes doesn’t even begin to seriously examine the fascinating, miniscule twists of fate and free will that can mean the difference between a prison term and a college degree. It fails because the key decisions the characters make are so patently unbelievable. The result is a series of consequences based on contrivances rather than authentic behavior. And all those contrivances mean the piece is more likely to make you roll your eyes than provoke your thoughts.
That said, there is one solid reason to take in A Girl With Sun in Her Eyes. That’s Vincent Teninty’s portrayal of the hapless William. He exudes hurt and vulnerability throughout, portraying the sort of flawed, damaged antihero that’s easy to feel for. A monologue midway through about being scarred by a former lover has the pathos to bring tears to the eyes. It’s a terrific, complex performance that covers the spectrum from cowering to courageous, from open and empathetic to closed off and bitter.
It’s too bad he doesn’t have a better story surrounding him.
| Rating: ★★ |
Pine Box Theater’s A Girl With Sun in Her Eyes continues through August 7th at The Second Stage (3408 N. Sheffield), with performances Thursdays & Fridays at 8 pm, Saturdays at 5 pm & 8 pm, Sundays at 7 pm. Tickets are $35, and are available at www.pinebotheater.org.
All photos by Heather Stumpf
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: ★★★ |
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.
Review: Jesus Camp – The Musical (Corn Productions)
Christian camp converted into clever satire
| Corn Productions presents |
| Jesus Camp – The Musical |
| Written by Robert Bouwman and Julia Weiss Music by Scott Lamberty Directed by Sarah Ballema at the Cornservatory, 4210 N. Lincoln (map) through July 16 | tickets: $7-$15 | more info |
Reviewed by Keith Ecker
The 2006 documentary “Jesus Camp” depicts the zealous activities of a youth Christian camp in North Dakota. The film treats its subject matter with grave earnestness, capturing the unbelievable beliefs of the adult camp leaders, parents and easily impressionable youths. To be clear, this camp is not Christian lite. It is an Evangelical brainwashing instrument where kids are coerced by omens of hellfire and speaking in tongues is considered normal.
Corn Productions, which operates out of the Cornservatory space in North Center, has taken this absurd and dark documentary and converted it into a clever comedic musical. In the fashion of the Tony-sweeping Book of Mormon, the musical leans more heavily toward critiquing certain Christians than condemning Christianity. And by incorporating a rival Muslim camp into the plot, the musical ups the ante with echoes of the modern holy war that seems to be unfolding in real life.
The musical—which clocks in at about two hours but only features eight songs—opens with the ensemble tune "Rise Up!" Like much of the play’s tunes, it is catchy, upbeat and chock full of tongue-and-cheek jabs at non-believers and the perceived superiority of Christians. We soon meet our cast of oddball campers and counselors. Donna Christian (Michelle McKenzie-Voigt) runs the camp. Her pulpit-style rabble-rousing is reminiscent of a TV evangelist as is her thin veil of sincerity. Lee (George Christopher Tronsrue) is the big man on the Jesus camp campus, and his ever-eating sidekick Tongues (Jayson Acevedo) speaks in gibberish. They welcome new camper Brian (Justin Lance), a fey and petite boy. Brian is undergoing a crisis of faith, and this sense of doubt serves to make him the subject of ridicule among the more popular boys.
Meanwhile, female outcast Rachel (Anne Marie Boyer) is a spastic Jewish girl whose non-Christian roots make her an easy target for the other camper’s high-and-mighty smugness. For instance, Lee taunts Rachel by tasking her to accomplish seemingly impossible Christian chores, such as finding a pebble in the shape of forgiveness.
All hell breaks loose, so to speak, when the campers discover that the Presbyterian camp across the lake has changed hands and become a camp for Muslims. This especially infuriates Donna Christian, who vows to do God’s work and deliver the evil followers of Allah into the hands of the devil himself.
Company members Robert Bouwman and Julia Weiss crafted this very funny script. The jokes come fast and often, many landing with excellent precision. But rather than just being full of yucks, there’s a good amount of commentary and heart in here too. The want to belong, what it means to be good and standing up for what you believe in are all running themes that are nicely woven into the fabric of the play.
However, what stops this from being a four-star musical is its length. It’s just unnecessarily long. I was shocked when the lights came up for intermission given that, according to my program, there would only be two songs in the second act. And the second act sure does drag. I suspect Bouwman and Weiss had a difficult time self-editing, but some of these scenes need to be put on the chopping block for the sake of streamlining.
With Scott Lamberty as composer and Pete Navis as music director, the songs are energetic and catchy. The ensemble pieces tend to work best as few in the cast (save for McKenzie-Voigt) seem to have the lung power to fill a room. Lyrics are clever and effectively serve to move the plot forward.
The acting is solid across the board. McKenzie-Voigt is devilishly villainous, while Tronsrue makes a great smug son-of-a-bitch. Whoever did the casting for this show did a spectacular job as each actor wears his or her character like a finely tailored suit.
Whether you’re a follower of the Christian God or one of the many outside His flock, you’ll find Jesus Camp – The Musical to be an entertaining and aurally pleasurable experience. Hopefully the ensemble will do another round of edits after opening weekend to condense the show. Still, even in its current two-hour incarnation, the musical finds a way to skip, step and pirouette into your heart, filling that space where – according to the production – Jesus should be.
| Rating: ★★★ |
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.
 |
 |
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: 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.
