Displaying items by tag: couples comedy

Dark comedies built around relationship dynamics have always drawn me in because they reveal conflict with a kind of honesty that feels both familiar and unpredictable. When couples clash, the humor isn’t just situational; it’s rooted in history, habit, and the tiny emotional landmines only long-term partners know how to trigger. Fault fits squarely into that tradition, taking the everyday rhythms of a long marriage and pushing them just far enough to expose the raw, funny, and uncomfortable truths beneath the surface. That blend of recognition and surprise is exactly what makes this kind of comedy so compelling, and why Fault lands with such a specific charge.

That sense of intimate volatility is exactly what Jason Alexander explores in his return to Chicago Shakespeare Theater. With Fault, he brings the sharp directorial instinct he showed in his earlier CST production Judgment Day and applies it to a far more contained emotional landscape. In this world premiere written by Scooter Pietsch, he shapes the play’s tightening grid of tension and moral uncertainty with a touch that feels both precise and unexpectedly humane. The result is a tightly focused piece driven by tension that sparks almost instantly - less an explosive outburst than a controlled shift in the room - with the personal fractures between the characters steering the story toward its breaking point.

Pictured are Enrico Colantoni (Jerry), Playwright Scooter Pietsch, Rebecca Spence (Lucy), Nick Marini (Shaun), and Director Jason Alexander. April 18– May 24, 2026, in The Yard at Chicago Shakespeare. Photo by Justin Barbin.

In Fault, the night detonates the moment Jerry Green walks in expecting to celebrate a career defining merger and instead finds his wife, Lucy, in an intimate moment with a young man she has just met, Shaun. What could have ended in a single, stunned confrontation instead becomes the spark for a long, spiraling night in which no one is allowed to leave, and nothing stays contained. The shock of the discovery quickly gives way to a volatile mix of accusations, shifting alliances, and long suppressed grievances, turning their home into a closed-door standoff where every truth feels like a trap and every explanation opens a deeper wound. Jerry and Lucy have long operated as a high functioning power couple, relying on professional unity to keep their marriage steady; once that balance collapses, the cracks at home widen just as quickly. It is interesting that Pietsch also underscores the irony that Jerry’s career‑defining merger has just made the couple newly minted billionaires after a long string of failures, and yet - proving that all the money in the world can’t change some people - they still behave like high‑achieving narcissists, turning their blame and abuse on each other and on the young stranger they’ve invited into their lavish home.

As the hours stretch on, the situation tilts from chaotic to revealing, exposing the fractures that have been quietly shaping this marriage for decades. Jerry’s need for control, Lucy’s hunger for something unspoken, and Shaun’s unexpected presence collide in ways that force each of them to confront what they’ve been avoiding. What begins as a moment of betrayal becomes a full-scale excavation of loyalty, resentment, and the stories couples tell themselves to stay intact. The play’s dark humor emerges from this escalating tension - how quickly a single mistake can unravel a life, and how a marriage can be tested most brutally not by the act itself, but by everything it brings to the surface. And just to remind you, this is a comedy - and a hilarious one at that.

Jerry even admits at one point that arguments never really have winners, a truth he delivers with the weary certainty of someone who has spent years circling the same conversational battlegrounds. Yet the play understands something deeper and more uncomfortable: that couples can become strangely addicted to the very banter that exhausts them. The back‑and‑forth may bruise, but it also affirms a shared language, a familiar rhythm, a way of feeling alive inside a relationship that has otherwise gone quiet. In Fault, that warped need becomes both a source of comedy and a mirror held up to the audience, revealing how easily love and combat can blur when two people know each other too well.

For all its blistering comedy, Fault is threaded with the quieter, more unsettling realizations that come with aging - what it means to feel your desirability slipping, to lose track of the person you married, or to crave the parts of yourself you fear have vanished. The betrayals at the center of the play aren’t just about infidelity; they’re about the desperate need to feel seen, wanted, and alive again. Beneath the chaos and sharp-edged humor runs a steady pulse of vulnerability, as each character confronts the version of themselves they’ve been avoiding. And just when the night seems like it can’t twist any further, the play barrels into a smash bang ending that lands with real force - the kind that sends audiences out buzzing, debating, and replaying the final moments long after the curtain comes down.

Presenting the world premiere dark comedy Fault, by Scooter Pietsch and directed by Jason Alexander. Featuring Enrico Colantoni (Jerry) and Nick Marini (Shaun). Photo by Justin Barbin.

The cast of Fault features three principal performers, each driving a different charge in the play’s volatile, rapidly escalating night. Enrico Colantoni gives Jerry Green a grounded, lived in presence, letting decades of pent up frustration surface through tightly controlled physical choices and a dry comic timing that makes his smallest shifts register. Opposite him, Chicago favorite Rebecca Spence shapes Lucy Green with a blend of wit, restraint, and emotional clarity; her sharp physical beats and instinctive timing keep each exchange taut while still allowing the humor to flicker through. Shaun, whose chance encounter with Lucy at the bar leads him into the Green household, played by Nick Marini, adds a destabilizing charge to the night, using quick, reactive movement and an agile sense of timing to tilt the dynamic just enough to expose the deeper fractures beneath the couple’s carefully maintained surface.

Their combined work is strengthened by the breadth of experience each actor brings to the stage. Colantoni’s long career in film and television, including standout turns in Veronica Mars and Galaxy Quest, gives his performance a steady, lived in weight. Spence, a Chicago mainstay with a Jeff Award and recent visibility in The Madison, brings sharp focus and emotional clarity to Lucy. Marini adds a younger charge to the trio, drawing on credits like Cobra Kai and Dropout TV to shape a presence that subtly disrupts the relationship dynamic.

The action unfolds inside a tastefully appointed luxury home crafted by scenic designer Paul Tate DePoo III, who gives the Greens a space that gleams with success without ever feeling sterile. A streamlined bar sits at the rear of the room, and the warm finishes, refined furnishings, and subtle touches make the environment inviting rather than ostentatious - a polished retreat that still feels lived in. It’s the kind of setting that should radiate comfort and control, yet under Alexander’s direction it gradually sharpens, its clean lines and curated surfaces taking on a quiet tension as the night begins to break down.

Alexander’s own trajectory mirrors that same level of craft, extending far beyond the stage. Although Jason Alexander is widely known for his television work on Seinfeld and film roles ranging from Pretty Woman to Shallow Hal, he brings none of that celebrity shorthand to Fault. Instead, his decades in front of the camera seem to refine his instincts behind the table. His sense of timing, character shaping, and emotional pacing reflect the precision of someone who has lived inside stories of every scale. It’s a résumé that could easily overshadow a production, yet here it deepens his approach, grounding the play’s volatility in choices that feel thoughtful rather than showy.

Running just ninety minutes without an intermission, Fault maintains a tight, steady pulse that matches the tightening chamber of its late-night unraveling. Chicago Shakespeare Theater presents the world premiere through May 26, offering audiences a sharply observed look at a marriage pushed past its breaking point. What stays with you isn’t only the tension or the humor, but the clarity of the production itself, which recognizes how a single, seismic domestic shift can rattle everything a couple has built, sending shockwaves through a foundation that once seemed unshakeable.

Highly recommended.

For tickets and/or more show information, click here.

This review is proudly shared with our friends at www.TheatreInChicago.com.  

You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone and married someone else – that’s how Noel Coward’s Private Lives sees it. For those unfamiliar with Coward, his scripts have bite and humor that were ahead of its time when they first hit the stage in the 1930s. Today, the edge may not be as sharp or controversial, but the dialogue and situational comedy still lend itself to a riotous evening.

BrightSide Theatre presents this playful comedy all about exes who happen to honeymoon with their new spouses at the same hotel.

What starts as a horribly awkward coincidence for Amanda and Elyot takes a turn when their mutual annoyance for their new partners rekindles their old flame. In no time, she climbs over into his adjoining terrace, and they run off, leaving their actual spouses to sort it out. They were kind enough to leave a note though. But it doesn’t take long for old patterns to rear their ugly head, and Amanda and Elyot, despite their promise not to bicker (even coming up with a game of silence when a fight is about to start), call it quits again. That is, until their old (new?) lovers find them and remind the on-again-off-again pair why they just can’t quit each other. There’s no end to the comedy as love is portrayed as messy, fickle, and volatile – with a few humorously choreographed fights mixed in.

Directed by Jeffrey Cass, also the Artistic Director, this rendition makes the most of Coward’s razor‑sharp script. The actors deliver lines with a lead foot, only pausing long enough for the audience to laugh before it’s on to the next joke. It’s a good thing, too, because in lesser hands this wordy play could have been stretched into a dull affair. While most of the zingers pack a punch, the script isn’t perfect. In fact, Act 1’s second scene spins its wheels before finally taking the plot where the audience already knew it was going. But in the hands of these capable actors, we can forgive Coward for being verbose.

Jon Cunningham and Jamie Marie DePaolo play Elyot and Amanda respectively, and their chemistry is the driving force of the evening. Their banter sizzles. DePaolo steals the show though with the firecracker energy she brings. There were several moments where just her facial expression got a laugh. She so thoroughly embodied this magnetic, yet mercurial she charmed everyone from her first entrance.

Portraying their other love interests are Matt Hellyer and Emily Sherman, who play their respective roles very capably – as perfect saps. After getting dumped on the first day of their honeymoon, their characters secretly hope that they’ll take them back. So, while you empathize, their lack of personal self-worth makes them unappealing – helping justify our leads horrid behavior. The cast works very well together, matching each other’s energy and comedic chops. In fact, their synergy was even evidenced by a scene change. They worked so quickly and efficiently in the dim light to transition a hotel’s terrace to a flat’s interior that everyone applauded when they were finished.

Along with plenty of laughs, there is also a lesson on love. These selfish characters demonstrate a total incomprehension of the true meaning of that four-letter word, which is ironic since the final act takes place in Paris, a city known for romance. But that’s the problem. These couples thrive on passion, and when the dust settles, they want the next hit for their heart. But true love is sacrificial, putting another’s needs before your own, which is something they don’t understand. It’s illustrated perfectly by Amanda’s French maid. When she speaks to them, they only nod and smile, since they don’t know French. In the same way, they don’t know the language of love either and fumble around, pretending with each other that they do. But while it may cause trouble for these characters, it’s a treat for the audience.

Private Lives runs through April 29 at BrightSide Theatre at the Theater at Meiley-Swallow Hall North Central College, 31 S. Ellsworth St. in Naperville. For tickets and/or more show information, click here.

This review is proudly shared with our friends at www.TheatreInChicago.com.