Tag: Lindsey Lyddan
The Great American
Trailer Park Musical
Music and Lyrics by David Nehls
Ambition exceeds preparation in wedding dark-comedy
|Chicago Fusion Theatre presents|
|Written by Charles Mee
Directed by Nilsa Reyna
at Royal George Theatre, 1641 N. Halsted (map)
through June 25 | tickets: $25 | more info
Reviewed by Dan Jakes
Tackling a work by contemporary mosaic playwright Charles Mee requires aiming high. By design, Mee’s scripts are better described as blueprints than directives. His stage directions pose particularly unique challenges for production directors; some are broad and flexible, while others are comically specific, often with a blatant disregard for economy:
“…and, of all the brides and grooms, some are/ burning themselves with cigarettes/lighting their hands on fire and standing with their hands burning/ throwing plates and smashing them/ throwing kitchen knives/ taking huge bites of food/ and having to spit it out at once, vomiting…”
Stack commands like that on top of hefty themes and purposefully jarring in-play styles, and one can imagine why so many young artists are drawn to Mee’s work. The challenge his shows present offer unique opportunities for exciting, meaningful, fiercely entertaining theater.
If the actors have their lines memorized, that is. Director Nilsa Reyna’s production demonstrates a worthy vision, but his hindered in practice by jumbled dialogue, meandering actor-intentions, and hit-or-miss execution.
Adapted from The Suppliants by Aeschylus, Big Love follows 50 Greek women’s journey for refuge from a family arrangement forcing incestuous marriage upon them to their cousins. Having escaped by ship, three would-be brides (Carla Alegre, Jamie Bragg and Kate LoConti) seek shelter in an Italian mansion, owned by wealthy Piero (Todd Michael Kiech, inexplicably cast as a man of persuasion–Kiech exhibits the charisma of a robot wearing an ascot). Soon after, intended husbands Patrick King, Marcus Davis and John Taflan (ideal as the entitled, handsome, bratty, machismo-saturated Constantine) discover their fiancés’ hiding-spot and follow pursuit. Mee’s play jumps back and forth between Aeschylus’ narrative and broader musings on love, duty, and gender.
Royal George Theatre’s teeny upstairs studio serves as the playing space for Mee’s large-scale show. Nick Sieben’s smart, functional thrust set makes ideal use of the black box’s shortcomings. Concrete slabs, a soaking tub, pink ribbon, and a flower-installation create an ambiance that performs double-duty satisfying the play’s realistic and ethereal sensibilities. It’s one indication of a clear vision behind the show–another is David Mitchell as the curly Q’d, flaming nephew. Mitchell’s heightened acting meshes with text’s abstract style in a way that even when, out of the blue, he dips into a bath and sings a show tune, the moment is touching instead of hackneyed or contrived. Kate LoConti too makes hard-to-digest character traits easy to swallow.
The rest of the show fares less well. Too many scenes are burdened by actors not seeming to be invested in the same moments, and emotional highpoints reading as stilted and clunky. Here, Fusion can’t quite merge Mee’s tangential ideas with a convincing story.
There‘s a reason so many plays end with a wedding; for better or for worse, they’re inherently dramatic. When even one that ends in a murder-orgy is tedious, the chemistry is off.
A rapid-fire assault on a crumbling marriage
|Profiles Theatre presents|
|Written by Michael Weller
Directed by Joe Jahraus
at Profiles Theatre, 4147 N. Broadway (map)
through June 26 | tickets: $35-$40 | more info
Reviewed by Oliver Sava
On the way to Profiles, my friend and I were discussing how a play is like the season finale of a TV show, when months, even years worth of plots come to a head, often leaving the audience on a cliffhanger that makes them crave more. The difference is that a play doesn’t have a season’s worth of episodes leading up to it, and playwrights have to integrate all that history into the script without breaking the momentum of the present catastrophe. Michael Weller’s Fifty Words condenses ten years worth of marital crises into a 90-minute whirlwind of exposed secrets and pent-up aggression, as Jan (Katherine Keberlein) and Adam (Darrell H. Cox) spend their first night alone together in 9 years. With their son Dylan in Staten Island for a sleepover, Adam sees the evening as a rare opportunity to revive their struggling sex life, attempting to seduce his wife while she’s preoccupied with their son and her upstart online business. Champagne and take-out aren’t enough to take Jan’s mind off Dylan’s troubling behavior at school and Adam’s lengthy business trips to the Midwest, and the dinner discussion turns ugly as truths come out that could potentially destroy their family.
Weller writes quick dialogue that Keberlein and Cox maneuver swiftly, snapping at each other like animals as the stakes are heightened. The mood is constantly shifting as the aggression between the two turns sexual, and Joe Jahraus’ direction captures the tension well, especially in the intimate (some one would say tight) Profiles space. The actors are kept on opposite ends of the kitchen when the arguments are at their fiercest, and when they are physically close it’s either to relieve the tension or because the tension just snapped. Lindsey Lyddan’s lighting design reflects the tonal shifts during the scenes changes, with cool blue washing over the sensual moments and stark red highlighting the more furious sequences. It’s a bit obvious, but it works in the context of Weller’s script, which has a lot of the standard tropes of the marriage power play –overbearing wife, inattentive husband, troubled child, infidelity – but approaches the concepts from intriguing new angles.
Fifty Words is about the relationship between power and desire, and Jan and Adam are in the paradoxical situation of wanting to take individual control of their marriage wile still wanting a more aggressive partner to fulfill personal desires. The conflict arises from the difference in their needs, with Jan wanting Adam to take a more active role in their son’s life while Adam is more concerned with getting his wife in bed. They’re both fully aware of the other’s demands, and they willfully withhold relief to make the other suffer. As revelations come out, the fighting becomes more violent, and sex becomes a weapon. Sex is a major driving force of the plot, and as usual, Profiles doesn’t shy away from the erotic elements of the script.
Sarah Ruhl’s Stage Kiss tried to explain why audiences don’t like nudity and sex on stage, but embrace it on film, and there is certainly something unnerving about seeing a topless woman get ravaged by her husband on their kitchen counter. That’s also not necessarily a bad thing. Nudity creates a strong reaction from the audience, and when the subject is physically in the same room, there’s an added layer of intimacy, especially in Profiles’ small space. The comfort the two actors have in their intensely sexual scenes helps solidify their characters’ relationship, and we get a glimpse of the passion that brought them together in the first place.
Like the best season finales, Fifty Words ends on a hell of a cliffhanger, setting up plenty more story to never be explored. That’s the thing with plays: once the lights come up, the story is over. There’s the very rare play sequel/prequel, and there are playwrights like Martin McDonnagh and August Wilson who have recurring characters and locations through multiple works, but for the most part, this is the last time that you will see these characters. Michael Weller leaves Jan and Adam with their marriage in shambles, but their story lives on in what the audience takes away from this production. Profiles’ production reveals the complexities of love, and the ways that secrets and lies can corrode it from the inside. I’m reminded of a quote from another great marriage crisis play this season, The Goat or Who Is Sylvia?: “Be careful who you fall in love with, because you might marry him.” Fifty Words is warning that no matter what word you use to describe it, love will always be an unpredictable force that can hurt as much as it heals.
Profile Theatre’s Fifty Words continues through June 26th at their theatre space, 4147 N. Broadway, with performances Thursday and Fridays at 8pm, Saturdays at 5pm and 8pm and Sundays at 7pm. Tickets are $35-$40, and can be purchased by phone (773-549-1815) or online.
All photos by Wayne Karl
Must proof be a prerequisite for belief?
|Chicago Fusion Theatre presents|
Written by David Auburn
Directed by Alex C. Moore
at Royal George Theatre, 1641 N. Halsted (map)
through November 14 | tickets: $25 | more info
Reviewed by Allegra Gallian
Proof, a play by David Auburn, a fascinating piece of work that plays with the double entendre of the word “proof” that occurs throughout the show: literal math proofs being solved as well as the need for proof to discover the truth. How can a person prove a fact that seems impossible? Can someone who’s certifiably lost their mind prove to still be a genius in their work? Chicago Fusion Theatre touches on these and so much more with their production.
The set design, by Scott Schoonover, is subtle yet bold, particularly in the color choices of stark white against bright blue. Suspended above the stage are multiple torn-apart notebooks full of mathematical equations. The rest of the set mimics the notebooks in both color and information, with the stages outer walls also covered in equations. A mirrored backdrop provides the actors space to add additional equations. The set itself if bare save for one chair.
Proof opens on Catherine (Natalie DiCristofano), on her 25th birthday, talking with her father, Robert (Sandy Elias). Desipite DiCristofano and Elias having a real connection that radiates out into the space, DiCristofano starts off a little shaky as she tries to find her ground. As the show continues, however, she definitely improves and finds the depths of Catherine. Elias is instantly personable as he fills the space. When he speaks he owns the stage with an amiable presence.
The plot twists and suddenly it’s clear that Catherine is, in fact, speaking with her dead father – whom she’d taken care of in life – in her own thoughts. It’s a quick turn that pulls the audience further into the action, then caries it forward. Hal (Nick Freed), a former student of Robert’s is going through Robert’s old notebooks, looking for uncovered mathematical discoveries. Freed is funny and charming in his role; he understands his character’s intentions and brings Hal to life.
Catherine’s sister Claire (Nilsa Reyna), returns home for their father’s funeral and to help Catherine out until she figures out what to do. Reyna starts out flat, especially as her character demands that emotions are let loose loose and exposed. DiCristofano, on the other hand, flourishes with her understated, dry humor as she delves into the depths of her character.
DiCristofano, like Elias, has great stage chemistry with Freed. They play well off of each other. Whenever there’s a scene between DiCristofano and Elias or DiCristofano and Freed, it’s captivating.
Through Proof, the action moves quickly and efficiently. There’s no point in which a scene drags on or is dragged out, allowing the scenes to flow and keep the audience’s attention. In between scenes the characters all add more and more mathematical equations to the walls of the set, adding to the chaos occurring around them. It’s an interesting punctuation between the performances and character interactions.
When Elias takes the stage later in the show in flashbacks of Catherine’s memory, he’s quite a stage presence. He’s full of life and commands the audience’s attention so it’s impossible to tear yourself away.
As the characters become more emotional, the scenes become more raw and heart wrenching. Since it’s such a small space, you can see all of the emotions play out in the actor’s eyes, pulling us into the action and holding us hostage.
Chicago Fusion has given us proof that they are a talented company, ably conveying their seismic artistic voice in intimate spaces.
Proof plays at the Royal George Theatre, 1641 N. Halsted St., through November 14. Tickets are $25 and can be purchased by calling the box office at (312) 988-9000 or at the Royal George Theatre’s Web site.