For those who love theater, “Being Seen” is a delicious window into the heart of the actors’ world. Written and directed by Richard Gustin, with excellent performances by Will Clinger as a sinister director, and Kelly Anne Clark as an auditioning actor, this show at the Den Theatre offers 90 minutes of tension and humor that at its best moments reminded me of Tom Stoppard, with notes of Pinter.

The action opens with the actor (Clark) on stage under the spotlight, readying for what seems to have been an impromptu audition. The happenstance brought her to try out for an unspecified role in an unknown play being developed by a highly acclaimed director (Clinger), who emanates as a disembodied British voice somewhere in the shadows. Gustin has placed him midway up with the audience, where we slowly locate the origin of his voice.

Adding to the tone of mystery are the series of enigmatic questions he poses to the actor, none of which help us identify which play, or even what type of play, he may have in mind. Rather, they seemed designed to establish his authority and preeminence, at least in the mind of the actor.
Periodically the director holds forth on one acting theory or another.

Bemoaning a dearth of great scripts, the director ostentatiously declared, “What I’d give for another Aristotle, another Sophocles, Sophocles, as well as a few minor female playwrights,.” And the actor—a supplicant seeking to be cast—readily agrees to his point of view on this and matters small and large, even abandoning her position if she inadvertently contradicts the director’s point of view.

So desperate for a role th auditioning actor will do anything the director asks. We learn that she has been an understudy in a number of significant roles, but the leads made all the performances in the runs. She also provides more information than the director requests, demonstrating her ability in dance, and volunteering a dramatic reading that she always has at the ready. The questions seem to grow increasingly off-base, too penetrating, overbearing, even abusive. She’s asked to sum up outlandish numerical totals in her head, for example. But seemingly no matter what she does, it doesn’t seem to please the director. At one point, he asks about her shoe size.

“Five and a half, but I can wear smaller,” she says.“We were looking for a seven,” the director replies dismissively. “Well I can do that,” she responds hopefully, claiming she actually did some of her best work wearing a size eight. But no matter what she does, she doesn’t seem to be able to curry the director’s favor.

The audition moves toward inquisition, heightening the edginess. Her obsequiousness against the pretentiousness and self-infatuation of the director’s views are the basis for much of the humor, which is continuous during the show. At one point, she is asked “How do you spell “theater,” and pausing after the second t—to big laughs and great comic effect—makes the 50-50 guess on which is the director’s preference.

Finally, after an hour, the actor cracks, declaring she is tired of being “on.” And for the last 30 minutes of the show, the plot thickens, and we are led to an unexpected ending. Will Clinger will be familiar to Chicago audiences as the host of the former Public Television show Wild Chicago and frequent parts in locally filmed television dramas. He proves himself a good stage actor. Clark is among the most regularly cast actors for Chicago’s musical theater scene,and starred in the U.S. premiere at Goodman Theater of “The Return of Martin Guerre.”

This show was well received in New York, with sold out performances and was voted a fan favorite at the New York Fringe Festival. The Den Theatre production benefits from having the author as director. But I often felt in “Being Seen” that we were continuously being lead-up to a really big laugh, but never quite getting there—titters, not quite guffaws. But for actors and theater geeks like me, this is an entertaining 90 minutes. “Being Seen” runs through July 2, 2023 at Den Theatre in Chicago. .

After a four-year hiatus, Cirque du Soleil, the ever-inventive circus troupe, has returned to Chicagoland with its latest show, “Corteo.” Founded in Montreal in 2005, Cirque transforms ordinary circus stuff— trapeze performances, acrobatics and gymnastics—through costuming, music, and a continuing storyline into pure stage magic.

This has garnered Cirque a devoted fan base that fills the tents and now arenas in which it performs to ever growing numbers, and “Corteo”—running through June 4 at the NOW Arena in Hoffman Estates—proves the company has not lost one bit of inspiration.

Like previous shows, “Corteo” weaves together a series of interrelated vignettes that form a unified whole. The costuming and motif of “Corteo” are taken from the Italian traditions of Commedia Dell’Arte rooted in medieval times but fresh and funny as heck. The voiced dialog, which is really minimal, switches fluidly from Italian to English. It’s the body language that is most important, and the hallmark of Cirque du Soleil’s excellence.

“Corteo” portrays the clown Mauro, who envisions his sickbed, and we see concerned parties visiting. But while serious, it is not a somber setting one laced with the circus acts in which he lives his life. It has a carnival atmosphere and is attended by angels hovering on trapeze rings.

Emerging from his bed, Mauro relives scenes from his life: playing in the bedroom with a brother (mattresses are trampolines), romantic interludes (a high wire act by a youthful couple), and the many astounding circus acts that surrounded him in his life. One example is a precision performance by six men rolling around the turntable stage in perfect unison within large metal rings. Another set finds precision gymnastics, performers dressed in colorfully contrasting waistcoats, breeches and spats, and with the lighting and music it is elevated from mere acrobatics to a thing of beauty. The stage set also captures the essence of Cirque’s magical appeal, with a curtains and sheer drops converting the cavernous NOW Arena into an intimate double-fronted proscenium design.

And it’s also a circus, and scenes of comic relief serve as palate cleansers, keeping the show from becoming ponderous. One of these, a golfing scene with a living golf ball dodging the duffers, is laugh until you cry funny, reminiscent of the best of Blue Man Group bits, but even better. It is also wholesome and child friendly, operating on a level of the magical that allows us adults to re-engage the wonderful world of the imagination.

More important than the story is the spectacle. “Corteo's original music, with delightful and even moving singers against live percussionist, violinist, even concert whistling and a water glass concerto, are blended artfully with studio recordings to conjure the magical atmosphere.

Cirque du Soleil’s genius really is indescribable, and this faltering attempt at doing so is intended merely to urge you to see it before the fleeting opportunity passes by. It is not something that can be streamed, it must be experienced. Remaining performances are Saturday, June 2 at 3:30 pm and 7:30 pm, and Sunday June 4 at 1 pm at the NOW Arena (the former Poplar Creek) in Hoffman Estates, IL.

Will WIlhelm, a trans actor with a serious bent for Shakespeare, takes us on a provocative journey through the playwright’s works that is both funny and eye opening. About Face Theatre’s “Gender Play or What You Will” is accompanied by plenty of witty dish. But this seemingly light-hearted two-hours also seeks to reset our view of those works the playwright penned between 1690 and 1713.

“The words belong to all of us,” Wilhelm says, and as a trans performer,. “I wanted to see myself reflected in the world,” claiming that after channeling Sakespeare’s spirit, “Will suggested I traipse through his work as me.”

It’s not only a reasonable quest—in Shakespeare’s time male actors played all the female roles, and gender-shifts in characters (women disguised as men) were a common plot device in his works—but for Will Wilhelm, the actor, the Bard’s works also formed an avenue to personal liberation.

Wilhelm shares an experience in a career as a professional actor, where during auditions performers are quickly dropped into slots: housewife, ingenue, jock, father, bookworm. Wilhem adapted by playing the roles directors sought, but it felt false. During the show Wilhelm relates how the realization that the gender fluidity of Shakespeare’s many characters—as well as the “othern Save ess” of outsider characters like Sherlock or Othello—provided strength and comfort. “William Shakespeare was writing about the marginalized,” Wilhem tells us.

Between the personal digressions and audience engagement, Wilhem taps quotes from a number of Shakespeare’s works that get the idea across. In some respects, this show is a goodly showcase for Wilhelm’s skill with the playwright, with bits from “Macbeth,” “Henry V,” "Hamlet" and other works. What characters would Wilhelm like to play from Shakespeare? "All of them," we're told—in other words, not just Ophelia, but also Hamlet, or the gravedigger.

Make no mistake, though, this sophisticated two-hour one-person show is also erudite and insightful, and informative. We learn that as the young Shakespeare (who was married at 18) had fathered three children by age 21.

His prolific output (37 plays in 23 years, the first at age 25) was likely driven by a need for cash. He also took on tutoring work, students including a young lord, Henry Wriothesley, who was reluctant to marry, and is said to be a youth referred to in Shakespeare’s sonnets. Sonnet 18, “Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer’s Day,” in Wilhem’s interpretation, is aimed at Henry, while other sonnets argue for Henry to marry and procreate.

Society’s perceptions of Shakespeare continually shift, mirroring contemporary values. Willhelm and co-creator Erin Murray do that for today's mores in “Gender Play Or What You Will,” running through June 3 at the Den Theatre.

Striking and enveloping, “Antonio’s Song/I Was Dreaming of my Son” is the most honest and accurate portrayal of how men are formed emotionally that I have ever seen. While it’s the particular story of Antonio Edwards Suarez, its authenticity raises it to the universal, in my view.

Saurez is a notable and accomplished dancer and actor, who brings his skills in dramatic movement to bear on Suarez’s biography in a one-act penned by Pulitzer-finalist Dael Orlandosmith and directed by Mark Clements.

In the opening scene Antonio gives us a captivating explanation of the challenge he encounters in managing his five-year-old while pursuing his serious creative work. He explains how he needs unfettered time alone in his studio to engage and release the spirit within that drives his work. But on this day, he unexpectedly has his kindergartener in tow, and soon enough the child is bored and wants attention. When this triggers violent anger in Antonio, and he slaps his little one, he is shocked and quickly remorseful. The rest of the performance is Antonio’s self-examination of the forces that unleashed this heretofore dormant violent streak.

With word, gesture and movement Antonio reveals his upbringing, early childhood friends, his parents, his bifurcated Black and Latino ethnicity. Conversant in street slang, in one astounding scene Antonio delivers a posturing boast of braggadocio on his manly prowess with young women, first in a sort of Spanglish street talk, then jumping to the other side of the stage, replicating it in Black argot.

Antonio’s self-awareness of the thuggish behavior that permeates his walk, talk, and demeanor, was illuminating. “Antonio’s Song” is modern in expressing the interior conversation he carries on during his personal journey. As a man and as a dad, I felt it was also a universal story. Many men have tried to tell the story of why men have problems in love and life, but Antonio fully expresses the vulnerability we experience as society pressures us into stereotypical roles that can abrogate our true selves.

Enthralled with dance after a chance TV viewing of ballet great Baryshnikov, Antonio is admonished against pursuing it as a dream by his mother, a depressive and vindictive figure. Wearing tights, moving elegantly, even delicately in dance, such pursuits are discouraged for young men as unmanly, gay-ish activities. Aspirations to finding fortune as an artist were also out of keeping with the vision of life harbored by most of Antonio’s Brooklyn peers. But his bosom buddy models a successful path into the arts. And Antonio’s father gets behind him, ultimately challenging Antonio’s mother and giving him support as his life takes him to dance school, to studies of ballet in Russia, and to a Harvard MFA.

Suarez’s stage mastery of movement is highly evident as he conjures up through expressive gesture unseen characters: his son, his dance teacher, his dying father. The creative team is also wonderful, in particular Jared Mazzochi’s project design and Luciana Stecconi’s spare but versatile set. Not knowing exactly what I would see in “Antonio’s Song,” I came away powerfully affected, and so highly recommend "Antonio's Song" at the Goodman Owen Theatre, running through May 28, 2023.

“TV Land,” a sextet of short comedies playing May 6, 7 and 8 at The Vault on Fulton Street, is a bit like the television that inspired it, with highs and lows but enough hearty laughs to recommend it.

An immersive theater event, "TV Land" puts the audience in the action, but not too much so that it would become annoying. Soon after arrival, ticket holders assembled in seats upstairs are ushered to the lower level where an open bar and gnoshes await—all included with the tickets.

A Showrunner (Anna Yee) and Head of Scripts (Kelly Lavendar) put the audience in the role of a writers’ pool charged with developing six scripts within the two-hour performance. Never worry, though, the heavy lifting on the scripts has been completed and we soon witness the opening act, “80’s Are Back,” an over the top, action-packed Charlie’s Angels send-up written and directed by Levander. The cavernous space near the bar is less than ideal for acoustics, and after this palate cleanser act we were ushered back upstairs for a more conventional setting for the next five acts.

For “Art-ish,” an examination of the possibilities of artificial intelligence in the creative arts, the audience tests out the technology in real-time, and a computer renders in seconds paintings based on our suggestions. Opening night included a cat on a trampoline in the style of Van Gogh, a pizza as if it were painted by Monet—not too different from blurred photos—and a very impressive panda as an astronaut, as painted by Georgia O’Keefe, rendered in three versions.

The ensuing one-act trades on this backgrounder somewhat, but it’s really about Charlie (Taylor Adams), an avid soccer fan who comes to watch a big game on the TV with his friend Trent (Joe Bushell). Trent is away, and his Wife (Sophia Vitello) greeting Charlie in her bathrobe, is relentless with unwelcome suggestive advances aimed at steering him to the bigger TV in the bedroom. When Trent finally arrives Charlie hugs him in relief, but we get an unexpected punchline.

The best of the bunch are “The Problem-atic” by Seph Bennett and “Intruder” by Francis Brady. “Problem-atic” is built on a funny conceit, a wand you run over text or images to identify issues of political incorrectness, insensitivity, or general wokeness, depending on your political orientation. The fast-paced and very witty issues electronically voiced by the Problem-atic device are a poke-in-the-eye at what can be overly-self conscious pretensions of contemporary culture. Bennett delivers humor in the vein of great satirists, with Sandra Adjoumani  (above) in a polished performance as the interpreter of the bad-news assessments provided by the Problem-atic device.

Francis Brady’s “Intruder” is the most refined one-act, with three scenes revolving around the intrusiveness of television in people’s lives. The Husband (Joe Bushell) has installed a giant screen high-definition TV in the bedroom, and Wife (Elizabeth Bushell) wants it gone.
“This TV is better than anything,” Husband avers. “All I want to do is decompress a little.” To which Wife objects, “Lay like a block, you mean,” demanding it be gone when she returns.

In the next scene at work Wife is in the coffee room with colleagues, talking ad nauseum about streaming shows like “Euphoria.” One co-worker Tim (Taylor Adams) confesses that he doesn’t actually like watching TV, but reads online summaries so he can carry on the water cooler talk. Why? “For the same reason I go to happy hour,” says Tim.

Two of the plays—”You Don’t Say” by Joe Bushell and “Woke Disney World” by Anna Yee— are funnier as ideas, but come off as mildly amusing on stage. “You Don’t Say” is a mash-up of a live soap opera with a reality TV show, “Woke Disney” is a self-help support group focussed on empowerment for Disney Princesses, moderated by Snow White and including latter-day princesses like Ariel, Mulan,
The Yellow Rose is one of Chicago’s newer companies, having launched during Covid, and “TV Land” demonstrates their passion, and irreverent sense of humor, always welcome on stage. Find tickets at www.theyellowrosetheatre.com

“Damn Yankees,” the vintage 1955 musical comedy at the Marriott Theatre in suburban Lincolnshire, has it all: a witty book, delicious songs, great choreography, and an excellent chorus. From the days when musical comedies were still rooted in operetta, it is truly musical, packed with memorable songs arranged in beautiful harmonies, and a Faustian storyline that gives heft to the drama.

It’s also very funny. Based on a 1954 novel, it tells the story of Joe Boyd (Ron E. Rains) a middle-aged, very rabid baseball fan who sells his soul to the devil to become a baseball great - Joe Hardy (Andrew Alstat) who uses his new-found powers to drive his beloved but terrible Washington Senators to win a Pennant and break the New York Yankees’ years-long lock on winning.

It’s wonderful to see “Damn Yankees” revived in such a definitive production. It is revisited less often than other Tony winning musicals from its era, like Richard Rodgers “South Pacific” (1949) or Frederick Lowe’s “My Fair Lady” (1956) and Meredith Wilson’s “The Music Man” (1957). Perhaps it’s the challenge of creating a convincing chorus of baseball players who can sing, dance and play ball—but director James Vasquez and choreographer James Vasquez have built a winning team here.

“Damn Yankees” breaks out of the box with a big number—Six Months Out of Every Year—featuring a quartet of male fans in dueling counterpoint melodies sung by a quartet of their wives, who lament their husbands’ preoccupation with the baseball. “Six months out of every year/When I’m with him/I’m alone” laments Joe’s wife, Meg Boyd—Daniella Dalli—a rich sonorous singer who carries this classic as well as her major more romantic numbers beautifully.

Soon enough the silky smooth, fast talking devil Applegate arrives. Sean Fortunato is a scene stealer, and knows how to get the audience roaring with his sly humor. After he seals the deal and transforms Boyd into the batting wonder Joe Hardy, Applegate sees he must fully corrupt his soul to lock him in fully as a future denizen of hell.

Enter Lola. Michelle Aravena recreates a character made indelible by the original performance by Gewn Verdon on stage and screen. And she so truly does it, in spades. This Lola is not mimicking Verdon, but is an original creation that I think may be even better than Gwen Verdon’s original. Aravena’s arrival is like a vixen jumping from a birthday cake, and wins the attention of all eyes and ears when she is on stage. She sings and dances—”A Little Brains” and the tango classic “Whatever Lola Wants”—all real time excellence, in one of the most demanding roles on stage.

The baseball chorus is also notably good and convincingly athletic—dance captain is Brian Bandura—with a show-stopping jump rope performance by Ben Broughton. From living room to locker room, the vintage in-through-round Marriott Theatre (originally Drury Lane North) showcases this production of “Damn Yankees” with flair, and nary a bad seat. Highly recommended, “Damn Yankees” runs through June 4 @MarriottTheatre

“Jagged Little Pill,” Alanis Morisette’s 1995, 16X platinum album, with 33 million copies sold, is her declaration of the terms of her self-emancipation. Timelessly truthful and inspirational, it remains an emotional catalyst for generations of people.

The album is at the core of Broadway in Chicago’s “Jagged Little Pill,” which opened Wednesday for a limited run (through April 23) at the Nederlander Theatre in Chicago. Nominated for 15 Tony Awards in 2021 following a pandemic caesura, this long-awaited Broadway roadshow is unlike other jukebox musicals— “Tina” or “Donna Summer” or “Carole King”—in that it is not a biography of Morisette. And unlike Sarah Bareilles’ “Waitress,” or The Who’s rock opera “Tommy” (coming to Goodman this summer) “Jagged Little Pill” doesn’t follow an inherent album-based storyline.

Rather, it was the emotional inspiration for a show written by Tony and Academy Award winner Diablo Cody (Juno, Tully), lyrics and music from Morrisette hits such as “You Oughta Know,” “Head Over Feet,” “Hand In My Pocket,” and “Ironic”, as well as brand new songs written for the show.

Like the album it relates an internal emotional journey, not of Morrisette, but of an upper middle class American family—rich turf for drama, from Ibsen to Chekov to Williams. “All happy families are alike, but every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way,” as Tolstoy notes, and we watch the Healy's go their own way from ostensibly happy to quite a mess. But never fear, this is a Broadway musical and they make their way back to the road to redemption to deserving standing ovations at the end.

Heidi Blickenstaff reprises her role from the Broadway production as the mother, Mary Jane Healy, with Lauren Chanel as her adoptive daughter Frankie, Chris Hoch as her husband Steve, and Dillon Klena as Frankie’s older brother Dillon. Blickenstaff has both the sensitivity to deliver Morrisette’s soulful sentiments, and the Broadway belt to go full throttle. Chanel is perfectly expressive of Morrisette’s range and when joined by her first love-interest, Jo (Jade McCleod) we have a duet providing great renditions of the album melodies, woven so beautifully to the storyline. Klena is also notable singing Morissette as older brother Nick as is Rishi Galani as Frankie’s other love interest.

One aspect of the production is particularly inventive: choreography by Beyoncé collaborator Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui. With Morrisette’s sensitive reflective lyrics (in a vein with Natalie Merchant, Sarah McLachlan, or Jewel) Cherkaoui and director Diane Paulus (known for Sarah Bareilles’ “Waitress) created dance avatars who are visually similar to the actors, but dance at major numbers relieving the leads from having to hoof it big numbers in ways that would seem out of character or clash with the underlying material.

At the other extreme, the potential for this approach can also be seen in an intimate pas de deux in which Mary Jane Healy confronts her inner demons with her dance double, Jena VanElslande. It’s a tour de force.

Another show stopper for creativity is a scene at a pharmacy played forward, then later reprised in reverse, as Mary Jane examines her path to drug addicition, a family secret until it became an undeniable plague. The recount of her growing addicition to oxycontin, graduation to harder drugs, and the crisis and intervention that led to her recovery are very accurate. 

Highly recommended, “Jagged Little Pill” runs through April 23 at the James Nederlander Theatre in Chicago.

Artistic Home has given theater goers a rare jewel of a comedy, a 1928 send-up of Soviet society that was never seen by Russian audiences because Stalin banned it. Well, his censors must have read only half way through, and clearly had no sense of humor, because this is comedy of the highest order. 

I’ll admit I was tempted to bail at intermission, as the humor in the first half felt a bit forced, and was mostly inside jokes for Soviet citizens. But as a reviewer I am pledged to see it through, and the outcome of the pivotal turning point was set up right before break. So I had to come back to find out what would happen. OMG was it funny! Take my advice and see this whole play, because you need the set-up to get the jokes in Act 2.

I’ll offer no spoilers, but in the first act we meet the hapless Semyon (Daniel Shtivelberg), an unemployed and hopeless young man who lives with his wife Masha (Kayla Adams) and mother-in-law Serafima (Kathy Scambiatterra is a hoot) in a crowded flat—perhaps situated in the apartment building lobby. The public setting of their dwelling and a common bathroom shared with the other residents assures us the opportunity to meet the postman Yegor (Reid Coker is great)—a model Soviet citizen—and another gentleman, Alexander (Todd Wojcik is a delight, as always) who seems to be sex trafficking with his willing partner, Margarita (Kristin Collins).

Semyon laments his unhappy fate, jobless and living from the earnings of his wife, while his mother-in-law manages the housekeeping. The two women are supportive despite Semyon’s dire emotional state. After failing in a last ditch effort to become a busker—he gets a tuba and instruction booklet but can’t master the instrument—his inner conflicts drive him to end it all. (The original play by Nikolai Erdman was called ‘The Suicide’ and is freely adapted here by Moira Buffini.)

Kristin Collins, Kayla Adams, Todd Wojcik and Kathy Scambiatterra in The Artistic Home's production of "Dying For It" at the Den Theatre.

Ironically, his decision to off himself makes Semyon suddenly of interest to others, and we soon see the arrival of three counter-revolutionary tropes of Stalin’s day: a member of the intelligentsia, Aristarkh (John Laflamboy plays it for all he's worth), the Westernized temptress Kiki (Brookelyn Hébert) a romantic poet Viktor (Khyel Roberson in a spot-on performance), and an Orthodox priest Father Yelpidy (Patrick Thornton). All hope to leverage Semyon's suicide to their benefit, mostly by encouraging him to write about them in his suicide note.

His neighbor the hedonist sees the occasion as a good excuse for a party, and with that Semyon’s plans to off himself become bigger than him—and the laugh fest begins in earnest.
Watching the players perform for all they’re worth in the first act had me curious, their earnest performances almost over the top with energy. Now I know why: they had all seen the second act!

Comedy is all in the timing, and credit director Monica Payne for keeping everyone on cue. Scenic design by Kevin Hagen is excellent, and costumes by Rachel Lambert are noteworthy in their authentic feel.

This rare opportunity to see a hidden gem should not be missed. "Dying For It” runs at The Den Theatre through April 23.

“The Shroud Maker” is a look into the world of Hajja Souad, an 84-year-old Palestinian seamstress, plying her artisanal trade amid the rise and fall of violence in Gaza City adjacent to Israel. Her specialty: shrouds used in Islamic funerals to wrap the deceased.

Unfortunately for the world, Souad’s business is good, and demand trends offer a depressing timeline of decades of violence in what had been Palestine. Boiling down a lengthy history, in 1948 the British relinquished control in the region pursuant to a U.N. mandate that partitioned Palestine to create a place for modern-day Israel. Surrounding Arab states launched a war against the U.N. action, and in 1948 the Arab League established a state for Palestine, which along with Israel claimed Jerusalem as its capital. And the rest is more war-striven history.

A businesswoman and expert in crafting finely stitched shrouds, Souad has seen it all over the years, and is played ably by Roxane Assaf-Lynn. The 70-minute monologue by noted Palestinian author Ahmed Masoud is drawn loosely from a real individual. Souad shares the gallows humor that is a familiar companion to those whose lifework is death.

Souad is also a survivor, someone who has suffered personal loss as one by one, over the years, every member of her own family became collateral damage in someone else’s wars. Her non-stop descriptive chatter tells her own epic story—against the backdrop of that of the people of Palestine.

Set in Gaza City, the opening scene finds Souad mid-way through an animated phone conversation, where she is warned yet again that she is in danger and should evacuate her home. This time it’s because of a limited Israeli incursion into Gaza, intended to destroy border tunnels through which contraband flows, some of it the very cotton she uses for shroud making.

“I’m not going anywhere….Besides your bloody tanks are everywhere,” Souad yells into the phone. “Your freaking army will have to kill me first.” Is she just a cranky, unreasonable old woman?

We learn she is much more than this in the course of the play, and Souad voices other characters in her life: her younger self, her father, an adopted son, and his wife, and Ghassan, their child. Two more characters from her past also appear, all of them voiced by Souad, who at 11, was removed from her farm (along with her parents) to make way for a kibbutz.

During the period before Israel was formed, her father Mahmoud was hired by the British High Commissioner Sir Alan Cunningham, as a gardener for his estate—the same Sir Cunningham whose British Army forcibly removed Mahmoud from their farm. Lady Cunningham takes a liking to Little Souad, and enculturates her as a British girl with piano lessons and training in posh British English. Essentially she is wantonly stealing Souad from her parents to replace her own child, now lost. But Lady Cunningham also teaches Souad to sew, and in her later life, Souad applies these skills to producing traditional Palestinian garments, including shrouds.

The production by the International Voices Project is nicely directed by Marina Johnson with set by Jonathan Berg-Einhorn. Ahmed Mousad’s script leans a little more toward literary—something to be read—than to stage delivery, though he generally weaves exposition in effectively. The story comes across, though the emotional side is not fully expressed. Even the best actor would be challenged, especially the demand to voice numerous characters. But the story is so authentic and compelling, coming as it does from those living in Gaza, that is is one the must be heard

“The Shroud Maker” runs through April 8 at Chicago Dramatists, Fridays and Saturdays at 7:30 p.m. and Sundays at 3:00 p.m.

“Describe the Night” at Steppenwolf is serious theater that is seriously entertaining. Intellectually challenging yet side-splittingly funny, it has sat with me for days after as I’ve puzzled over what it is telling us.

Written by celebrated playwright Rajiv Joseph, whose sly wit enthralled audiences in Steppenwolf’s “Guards at the Taj,” the somewhat enigmatic script is also a captivating mystery story. It follows the emergence of famed Russian Jewish author Isaac Babel’s wartime journal, an uncensored record of his war time impressions.

Depicting real and fictional characters, Joseph spins a possible recount of how Babel’s journal survived while much of his writing was banned and destroyed. The title of the play was taken from that journal kept while Babel served as a war correspondent and propagandist for the Soviets in their 1920 war against Poland. Babel was a rising fiction writer when he signed into the military, and soon after the war wrote Red Cavalry, drawn from his personal impressions of the war, quite at odds with the positive spin he delivered in the news.

Eventually, under increasingly oppressive censorship, much of Babel’s fiction writing was banned by Russian authorities, the author imprisoned in 1939, and executed in 1940, with his working manuscripts, notes, and the journal offered in evidence at his trial. In the play's portrayal of the search for the surviving journal, we see two fictional connections to Babel—the grandmotherly babushka Yevgenia (Sally Murphy) and her granddaughter Urzula (Charence Higgins)—tailed by KGB operative Vova (Glenn Davis is pitch perfect).

The KGB wanted not just the writer dead, and his manuscripts and books destroyed, but his source material too. Hence the ongoing search for Babel’s journal. Vova's menacing presence is palpable, but his efforts are thwarted by the ditzy Yevgenia who charms him and all of us with an earnest insistence that he join them for soup. Vova acquiesces, and the playwright gives as a surreal dinner scene—foreshadowed deftly in Act 1—that is one for the ages, the laugh until you cry type.

It also encapsulates one powerful truth in “Describe the Night,” that a great antidote to disinformation and oppression is to laugh at it, buttressed with “alternative facts” as "truth" in our own age of disinformation and “the big lie” is in danger of becoming. In other words, we live in a time when truth and lies are harder to distinguish. And this evolving dynamic of confusion within society is at the core of "Describe the Night."

Written in 2014 and produced in 2017, “Describe the Night” predates our own unfortunate circumstances, with libraries censored, school curricula bowderlized, and news content cued to television ratings rather than impartiality. Reviews of other stagings have recognized the importance of this play, but it seems in Steppenwolf's production under the direction of Austin Pendleton, the actors have nailed the comic timing that makes the show so effective.

Kudos too, for scenic design by Collette Pollard, whose representation of the extensive KGB files on parties of interest is another high point of the show, played also to great comic effect. On Steppenwolf’s newest in-the-round theater space is a blank tablet with minimalist sets introduced only when required. Sound design by Pornchanak Kanchanabanca is noteworthy, from light touches of evocative music to dramatic sound effects such the roaring inferno where many of Babel’s writings are destroyed.

In some ways “Describe the Night” is an absurdist style play, the characters not naturalistic. But Joseph, who also won a Tony for his "Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo," leavens this with his signature style of natural contemporary speech. We see this particularly as two real life characters, Isaac Babel (James Vincent Merredith) and his military minder and friend Nikolai (Yasen Peyankov) who joust about the nature of truth. Likewise with two fictional characters from scenes in post-Soviet times, airport car rental agent Feliks (Jack Cain) and reporter Marikya (Caroline Neff, who I never can get enough of on stage). Mariyka also comes under questioning Vova in the search for the missing journal, making a connection to contemporary times.

This show flies by in two hours and forty-five minutes, and the first act is engaging and promising, on which the second act delivers in spades. I had no idea how much time had passed when the lights came up. “Describe the Night” runs through April 9, 2023 at Steppenwolf Theatre in Chicago. It’s a great production of what is proving to be a seminal play.