Displaying items by tag: The Conspirators

The early closing of the Conspirators’ 2023 production of “Commedia Divina,” proved useful, giving this …erm … highly original company an opportunity to retool “Commedia Divina” into a production worthy of Election Year 2024.

I can’t claim I wasn’t warned. I mean, the very title is “Commedia Divina: It’s Worse Than That, An Immorality Play.” You can’t read that title and walk in expecting Carol Burnett, right? I was further cautioned by my seatmate (a Conspirators veteran) that the Conspirators’ style is “an acquired taste.”

In fact, The Conspirators work exclusively in “The Style” – a highly theatrical performance mode developed by movie stars Tim Robbins and John Cusack from the techniques of Ariane Mnouchkine, Commedia dell'Arte, Kabuki, Bugs Bunny cartoons and punk rock.

In COMMEDIA DIVINA, “The Style” features easy-to-change (it happens alot) costumes from Kit Medic (they/them), with Kate Akerboom’s (she/her) in-your-face over-the-top makeup. Together, one hardly needs Sid Feldman’s he/him words or William Bullion’s (he/him) direction … but trust me, you’d miss them if they were deleted.

As they almost were when the video for the Fourth Circle refused to play … but the Conspirators are a professional troupe, and neither a misbehaving media clip nor a broken butterfly net caused so much as a hiccup.

Maybe I should go back and tell you the story huh?

Start with Inferno, the first (stanza) in Dante’s epic poem, The Divine Comedy, in which the poet Virgil escorts Dante through the Nine Circles of Hell. Dante intended the Inferno to illuminate the contrast between reality and fantasy, between existence and illusion, and show the suffering of the damned at each circle. The Conspirators do a masterful job of not only scrambling these concepts, but of showing us how well that snarl mirrors contemporary life.

Dante’s guide through these Circles is Virgil; in “Commedia Divina” Fr. Virgil is immaculately (sic) played by Corin Wiggins (they/she/he), who guides, not Dante, but Malady Traitor Greene, a suburban business heiress from northern Georgia, played with lunatic frenzy by Christine Watt (she/her). Any similarities to a certain Congresswoman from  Georgia are purely coincidental - not!

The play opens with Malady Traitor Greene hysterically soliciting Fr Virgil for insight into the dreams/visions she’s been having. And as we descend with them through these Circles we begin to not only sympathize with Greene’s derangement, we too become infected with maniacal insanity, expressing itself as riotous and uncontainable laughter.

The Conspirators do their job well: by the time we exited the theater the entire sold-out audience was rampantly unhinged. In fact, if you were anywhere near 3914 N Clark Friday night you may have glimpsed a group of seething lunatics absconding into the street.

We descended with Malady and Fr. Virgil into the first circle of hell, past an Amazon packaging assembly line where all the employees are writhing with the pain of overfilled bladders, waiting eternally for a break that never comes. The next circle took us to a meeting of Karens, who can’t seem to agree on how to do good, or anything. The chair, a Karen herself, suffers damnation in managing a meeting filled with complaining, obstructionist Karens. Another circle finds the seductress Covida (Kelly Opalkoshe/her) inveigled and infected one boyfriend after another. Dramatic moments were often punctuated by a drumroll, but onstage percussionist Dakota Norman did more than simply beat the drum; he and his sticks were most definitely active members of the cast.

The Circles continued down to the uproarious "Ron Paul's Drag Race", with Travis Barnhart’s (he/him) sidesplitting appearance as Senator Mitch McConnell hitting it off with Liza Minelli. Liza serenaded us with a retooled version of “Maybe Next Time”. Throughout the production various demons, imps, Karens and ghouls were brilliantly enacted by Eva Andrews she/her; Emily Fernandez (she/her); Tess Vincentshe/her; Mitch Maguirehe/him, Jimmy Dwyer (he/him); Kelly Opalko (she/her); Lex Mann Turner (they/he) and Harper McCoy (she/they).

 Mike McShane’s (he/him) lighting and Sebby Woldt’s (they/them) sound design were integral to the production. Choreographer Meghan Lyndham (she/her) had her work cut out for her! but rose to the challenge, coordinating well with Violence Designer Libby Beyreis (she/her). Christen Krasch (she/they) was kept busy as Assistant to Stage Manager Matt Bonaccorso (he/him) as well as with A/V; I’m sure the media glitch in Circle 4 was an opening-night foible, and they’ll have it under control for the next performance.

“Commedia Divina” was written (and retooled) by Sid Feldman and directed by William Bullion, with assistant Elena Avila. Feldman and Bullion co-founded The Conspirators in 2016.

Beneath the unrelenting comedy “Comedia Divina” was amazingly erudite. Laughter is often an effective approach to commentary on the dire issues facing all of us. It’s clearly no accident that the production is timed to coincide with the election: the last words of the night were from Fr. Virgil as he was churlishly yanked offstage: “Please Vote!”

Highly recommended, “Commedia Divina” runs at Otherworld Theatre through November 10, with special late night performances October 31 and November 1, 2, 8 and 9, as well as an Industry Night Election Special performance on Monday, November 4.

You have be on your toes to catch The Conspirators productions, but it’s worth the effort. The troupe’s latest evanescent performance, just three days last week, was a take on holiday shows, actually a remount of the 2019 “Ayn Rand's ‘It's a Wonderful Life’ as Performed by the Conspirators,” but this time “Under the Direction of Diane Feinstein.”

As the title suggests, it’s a funny view of the world around us. Written by resident comic genius Sid Feldman and directed by Wm. Bullion, the three-day run at Otherworld Theatre otherworldtheatre.org concluded . This show, which “was-going-to-be-annual-until-the-pandemic holiday tradition” is a parody (Frank Capra’s 1946 “It’s a Wonderful Life” as it might have been adapted today by libertarian-slanted Ayn Rand) within another parody—a holiday TV special.

But Feldman, as always, ups the ante, and in this case the traditional TV holiday special is reset with the late Senator Feinstein replaced by another director. In last week’s actual staging, Covid struck several cast members during rehearsals. But actual director Bullion and a few other script-toting fill-ins delivered a memorable opening night. Though the overarching “TV special” theme was obscured, individual scenes were funny indeed.

For example, in Ayn Rand’s filter of “It’s a Wonderful Life,” when George Bailey (James Stewart in the film) decides to jump off a bridge, the angel Clarence offers, instead of discouragement, an assist. As Clarence takes George on a tour of what life for his family and friends would have been like if he’d never been born he visits his wife Mary, at work. But unlike the film,she’s not a penniless 1940s librarian. Instead, Feldman puts her in our current time, as a low-paid, harried waitress hawking sex-on-the-beach shots at TGI Fridays. "Sex on the beach, sex on the beach," she intones drably to the diners. Still locked in the 1940s, a clueless George Bailey tells her, “No no, Mary. You don’t have to sell your body to survive!” It’s very funny on stage, the actor dead-onJames Stewart impersonation.

You’ll likely be able to see the seasonal standard in December 2024, but The Conspirators’ next appearance will be May 15 - June 8, 2024 for “Viva la Mort.”

The Conspirators latest show is an absolute laugh fest, and may just be their funniest so far. Subversive in its social commentary, which hits you in your funny bone, The Conspirators have chosen Dante’s Divine Comedy for their latest show, “Divina Commedia: It’s Worse Than That.” They lead us through those circles of hell in which we find ourselves today, perhaps without realizing it.

We are introduced to a sleepless clergyman who has come to his sanctuary to work on tomorrow’s sermon. An upper middle class matron—described as a suburban Atlanta business heiress—wanders into the church in these wee hours seeking comfort over a dream plaguing her, and with this conceit, the humor ramps up.

First circle we meet is an unrelenting packaging line in an Amazon warehouse, with the cast moving those familiar boxes at a rapid pace. Our protagonist for the set needs to pee, but the line can’t stop. Soon perhaps everyone in the line is in the same predicament. No stopping to pee! The contortions and jumpiness of the denizens of this circle of hell suffer on endlessly with no relief. And we realize in our laughter they are stuck there, forever!

Another circle finds us at a community meeting chaired by a Karen, that meme of entitlement and complaint that is familiar to us all. After a modest proposal to spend a small sum on a group project, the discussion opens, and Karen the chair discovers all in attendance have an opinion, negative of course, and each happens to also be named Karen. The chair Karen is in her circle of hell, as each attendee carps and whines with no possibility to resolve these Karens' issues, they just want to complain, each in their own take on unresolvable “problems” with the proposal.

There are seven more osuch circles (one is "Ron Paul's Drag Race" with a remarkably funny appearance by Senator Mitch McConnell and Cher), all devised by the sharp pen of Sid Feldman and directed by Wm. Bullion, running at what seems to be a most congenial place for the Conspirators, the Otherworld Theatre at 3914 N. Clark St. in Chicago. Between each circle the heiress reflects acidly on the suffering with the clergyman, who serves the role of Father Virgil to guide her, a witty take on Dante’s original.

The production is in The Conspirator’s distinguished take on traditional Italian Commedia dell'Arte, which they dub “The Style,” with thick make-up drawn from Kabuki, “and with a dash of Bugs Bunny.” The exaggerated delivery, punctuated by drum rolls from an onstage percussionist, leads the audience to savor the lines—giving them added impact.

This time around the make-up has an added embellishment of very expressive lines, giving each character a distinctive mask that lends itself well to the roles. The Conspirators productions are deceivingly erudite, seriously referencing weighty underlying material, and bringing them to bear on contemporary life.

But the most important thing is how funny it is. You don’t need to know anything at all about the intellectual underpinnings of their shows, because the laughs are involuntary and completely overwhelming. Audiences will applaud dutifully at many shows. But you can’t fake laughter, the most honest of responses. “Divina Commedia: It’s Worse Than That” is an almost exhaustingly funny show. The Conspirators’ runs are typically very short. Absolutely don’t miss this one, through November 19 at Otherworld Theatre.

The title alone is the tip-off that “The 125th Anniversary Jubilee” from The Conspirators is out of the ordinary—an irreverent show that is both laugh-inducing and thought provoking.

“Jubilee” consists of a sampling of skits from The Conspirators past performances, as well as “imagined” skits from an impossibly distant past before the troupe was founded, including a 19th century riff on Sherlock Holmes revolving around the old saw, “Do you have Prince Albert in a Can.” Another piece, a supposed 1945 skit, ‘Harry Truman's Fitful Night’ finds Truman struggling to express to Americans the enormity of the nuclear holocaust at Hiroshima and Nagasaki. We witness Truman irked that the Bhagavad Gita line, “Now I am become death, the destroyer of worlds” was already taken, used after a test detonation by physicist J. Robert Oppenheimer. So laughs are both highbrow and lowbrow.

These and other samplings, wrapped around a lengthier one-act French comedy of manners from 1898, make the evening a good introduction to the unique approach The Conspirators use. Known as “The Style,” it is based on a mix of classic Italian Commedia del Arte, Kabuki (actors are heavily made-up), and with a dash of Bugs Bunny. The exaggerated delivery, punctuated by drum rolls from an onstage percussionist, leads the audience to savor the lines—giving them added impact.

The core of the show, the one-act play by a French commentator, author and playwright Octave Mirbeau, is a send-up the social foibles of his time, a Moliere-esque comedy of manners, set at a town council debating what to do about an outbreak of typhoid fever at a local military base. The parallels to our ongoing battle with the Covid pandemic are unmistakable as we witness the council heed the advice of a medical professional who is a “plague denier” and then vote to do nothing, later turning 180 degrees when the disease inevitably strikes a favored member of one of their own bourgeoise.

For first-timers at a Conspirators show, the musical numbers that open the show may seem to come from left field, but very quickly the magnetic qualities of the unique format will draw you in. Written by Sid Feldman and directed by Wm. Bullion, the show draws also taps Monty Python and SNL material.  “The Conspirators’ 125th Anniversary Jubilee Featuring the Ineptidemic” left me laughing, and looking forward to the next 125 years.

The show runs through November 19 at Otherworld Theatre, 3914 N. Clark St., Chicago. Visit https://www.conspirewithus.org

Sometimes tragedy is so extreme, our only response is to be driven to distraction – like that character in a graphic novel pushed off the edge, laughing in the abyss. Or think of the performance of Joaquin Phoenix in The Joker.

A work springing from this sentiment is playing live on stage, at the Athenaeum Theatre, in a new production format called “The Style,” a unique performance vernacular developed by The Conspirators. Every element – writing, directing, ensemble performance, music, set - brings something you will likely not have seen before.

The play is Accidental Death of a Black Motorist- the title alone both suggestive and incendiary. What happens on stage is even more so, with a truly barn-burning performance by Anthony Hinderman – a recent arrival to the Chicago scene and now an ensemble member in The Conspirators. (I am already grieving the likelihood this guy will soon be scooped up by New York or Hollywood.)

The roots of this work are heady, drawn from Italian Nobel laureate Dario Fo’s absurdist Death of an Anarchist. Writer Sid Feldman, who has adapted it into a precise Chicago argot, justifiably claims script credits, having updated the original to a relentlessly witty, laugh-rich brew that will leave you breathless, and powerfully impacted. 

In a nutshell, the story tells of a Chicago police crew who have arrested a man for “driving while black,” (we never see him). "The subject was driving too nice of a car for that neighborhood," explains the arresting officer in his broad Chicago accent. 

The victim somehow ends up jumping to his death from a fourth floor police station window during questioning. Feldman has transmogrified these hapless cops into a witless crew that is unable to develop its own cover story to avoid liability for the innocent man’s death. 

Then comes the subversive Actor (Anthony Hinderman) who re-enters the scene (he had earlier been arrested for a minor infraction but skipped out) and now convinces the police he has been sent by the court to help them clear their names. Crafty as a grifter, The Actor transforms into several characters, but the cops don’t catch on. As Actor reads through the police report he ostensibly helps them generate alibis for their inconsistencies, but once they commit to one of his proposed covers, he lets them see the new story won’t fly under questioning either. 

Detective Berkstra (Nathaniel Fishburn), speaking in heavilyinflected South'side, complains,  "You said you were here to help us, but all you've done is cast doubt on everything we say!" 

Hindeman brings a extraordinary plasticity to his facial expressions. Coated in pancake and heavily made up, he grimaces and mugs for all he is worth. 

The technique used in the show is “The Style,” which The Conspirators describe as a distilled amalgam of the 16th century Italian Commedia del Arte style, with “influences like Kabuki, Kathakali, Bugs Bunny, and a high-energy punk-rock aesthetic” that is like “a coke-fueled clown nightmare.”

Abandoning any semblance of naturalism, the actors are done up in grotesque makeup, with stylized movements punctuated by very expressive percussion as commentary. (Sarah Scanlon played the night I saw the show.) Footlights illuminate the stage in a stark glare, perhaps off-putting at first, but mesmerizing soon enough.

You may fear for Hinderman lest he be immolated in the blaze he sets on stage, but so too the rest of the troupe, who have clearly drunk whatever cool-aid The Conspirators are mixing. In fact, the cast really becomes one actor. Every performer amazes – Kate Booth as Detective Bertowski, Nathaniel Fishburn as Detective Berkstra, Ali Janes as TV newscaster Madison Boan, Nicole Frydman as Chief of Police, and the list goes on.

I sought out this play after a friend mentioned their previous production, The Deckchairs, or, Make the Titanic Great Again. (That one tells what happens on board after an iceberg denier is elected captain of the unsinkable ship.)

Wm. Bullion directed this unique show, which uses its special forms and styles to cast a fresh light on the social injustice it addresses. Far from dreary, it is truly liberating. Accidental Death of a Black Motorist runs Thursday, Friday and Saturdays through November 23 at the Athenaeum Theatre, 2936 Southport on Chicago.