‘Andy Warhol in Tehran’ is a delight, an incisive comedy packaged with a serious exploration of art, history, and political values.

Rob Lindley as Warhol captures the artist exactly as he was seen in his public persona, somewhat vapid, seemingly desultory, with a passion for attaching to others’ fame, while amplifying his own. The script by Persian-American playwright Brent Askari gives a knowing monologue delivered with droll deadpan humor by Lindley, providing an entertaining overview of Warhol’s background and his work.

Warhol, who died in 1987 and coined that timeless phrase “15 minutes of fame,” rose to a far more lasting version of it by turning the mundane—Campbell’s Soup Cans, celebrity photos, a five-hour film of someone sleeping—into highly coveted and admired pop art.

Cultivating his own celebrity, he leveraged that as well to boost the price tags on his canvases, his access to well-heeled collectors and famous personalities, ultimately driving demand for commissioned work—which is where the play opens.

Having tapped out other gambits, Warhol in his late career took aim at portraiture of world leaders, reasoning they would need numerous versions of portraits for multiple public spaces. It is just such a commission, for the Empress of Persia, that finds Warhol in Tehran. Lindley’s Warhol, as voiced by the script, keeps us engaged throughout this fast-paced disquisition on Warhol’s background when there comes a knock on the door: room service.

Enter Farhad (Hamid Dehghani), in a gold braided bellhop jacket rolling a cart laden with caviar—and to Warhol’s delight, just $10 a serving. A few moments in, we find this is not just any hotel staffer, but a dissident impersonating a staffer. He aims to take Warhol hostage, in an effort to draw attention to the Iranian dissidents' efforts to remove the repressive Shah of Iran—placed in office by Western governments when the very popular and democratically elected president tried to nationalize Iranian oil, particularly Anglo-Persian Oil.

Warhol, as an artist and particularly with his focus on capturing ephemeral moments and celebrities, had no awareness or even interest in politics in Iran, or anywhere else. Farhad, holding a gun, declares, “We are going to announce we have kidnapped the famous Andy Warhol.”

“Why me?” Warhol says, suggesting Farhad kidnap another hotel guest, Barry Goldwater. “He’s very handsome.”
“What does that have to do with anything,” Farhod snaps back, seemingly infuriated by Warhol’s nonchalance and disengagement with the seriousness of his situation. Warhol was chosen, “Because you’re the most decadent artist alive. You see, Andy Warhol, we want our 15 minutes of fame.”

As the two wait for the getaway van, the playwright uses the dialog to reveal the characters. While the fictional kidnap attempt never happened, everything else about Warhol’s background, including the visit to Tehran, and everything that Farhad describes about Iranian politics and history, is factual.

Hamid Dehghani’s performance as Farhad is surely informed by his background as an award-winning actor and director in Iran. And likewise the script carries an authenticity that comes from intimacy with, and passion about Iran. Northlight’s production of ‘Andy Warhol in Tehran’ is a unique expression from those who know, and comes highly recommended. It runs through February 19, and hopefully even longer.

CityLit Theater’s ‘The Birthday Party’ opens with a load of laughs, seducing the audience with its low-key humor, then shaking us up as sinister overtones are gradually revealed.

We are introduced to the middle-aged operators of a British seaside boarding house: Meg (Elaine Carlson is delightfully comedic) and her dead-pan husband Petey (Linsey Falls in a flawless regional accent). Meg is all in a dither all the time—think 'All in the Famiily’s' Edith Bunker—just able to serve breakfasts of cornflakes and keep the larder filled.

WIth a naturalistic style that is reminiscent of David Mamet’s work (though written by Harold Printer decades before him) this play will leave you smitten by the characters, and the way repetitive, everyday speech is mined for its humor. And as with great comedy, it’s all in the timing, which the cast and director handle beautifully.

Meg and Petey's very down-on-its-heels establishment has had but one guest for the past year, Stanley (David Fink) and we soon see that the relationship with this lone customer has devolved to an enmeshed co-dependency between Meg and Stanley. She mothers, teases, and fauns over Stanley, who returns the excessive attention with a withering derision and acidic jokes that fly over the good natured Meg’s head.

Fink is perfect as the dissolute Stanley, a failed musician who sleeps in, and stays perpetually in pajamas and robe. Soon arrives the vivacious, self-assured Lulu (Sahara Glasener-Boles), a comely lass about Stanley’s age, who chides him for not bathing or going out of doors.

Things turn ominous when two new guests arrive in a big black limo—the erudite Goldberg (James Sparling is pitch perfect) and his towering thug McCann (Will Casey). Now Pinter takes the action to a darker level, as the titular birthday party for Stanley unfolds, despite his disinclination to attend. Fink ably registers Stanley’s discomfort with strangers entering the household, and Stan moves from suspicious to paranoid, desperately demanding (to no avail) that Goldberg and McCann find other accommodations. The play can be taken literally, but its many enigmatic and contradictory twists place it firmly in the absurdist camp. 

‘The Birthday Party’ was Harold Pinter’s first full length play, and it broke the mold, launching a genre: it is a ”comedy of menace” (as opposed to comedy of errors or of manners). Perhaps because it is so out-of-the-box, it closed after just eight performances following its 1957 premiere. But a positive review secured attention for Pinter, and ‘The Birthday Party’ is now recognized as a masterwork.

City Lit distinguishes itself in the selection of this play, and in an absolutely wonderful production. Highly recommended on the basis of casting alone, artistic director Terry McCabe deserves kudos. Don’t miss a chance to see this live production of a Printer classic, running at CityLit Theater through February 26, 2023.

"Bald Sisters," in its world premiere at Steppenwolf Theatre, tells of a Cambodian refugee who escaped the unspeakable terror of the Kmer Rouge with her daughter, and made a new life and birthed a second daughter in the U.S. But the play only touches that in passing, instead focusing on universal themes as it portrays very realistically the generational divides that affect us all.

With incredible performances across the board, Bald Sisters is must-see theater. But the biggest star just may be the script by Vichet Chum, a rising playwright gaining national renown. Bald Sisters was created under a new play development initiative by Steppenwolf Theater Company, which reliably discovers and delivers work by promising playwrights with fully realized productions, this one directed admirably by Jesca Prudencio.

Chum’s characters, who represent familiar Boomer, GenX, Millennial types, are fully dimensional, their speech realistic, fresh, and completely on key for the range of ages and personalities. He gives the actors convincing language to work with, and they deliver it powerfully.

We have the mother, Ma (Wai Ching Ho), a naughty sprite who has put all the bad memories behind her, living in the moment, and readily speaking her mind. Ma prefaces her most pointed remarks with, “I probably shouldn’t say this, but I’m going to,” eliciting laughs, while cueing the audience for the zinger to follow.

Ma generally directs the barbs at her eldest daughter, Him (Jennifer Lim), whom we deduce escaped with her from Cambodia. Him and Sophea (Francesa Fernandez McKenzie), Ma’s younger daughter, are planning mom’s funeral - a plot device that brings a clash between the daughters. Him has a darker view of the world, while her younger sibling Sophea - born in the U.S. - has traveled an easier path. Sophea was spared the trauma of Him’s past as a refugee, but she longs to be anchored in her culture, seeking her roots by meditation and styling herself as an eastern zen. Him, on the other hand, has assimilated into U.S. culture, marrying a white Christian minister.

The end-of-life hook is a convenient device for the siblings to confront unfinished business. The younger sister Sophea is living an extended adolescence, and is very judgmental about her older sister Him’s life and values. Him sees her sibling as an infantile bag of pretension and Buddhist wanna-be.Him, though seriously ill, lives a dutiful life, supporting Ma in her decline, and her husband Nate in his church career.

Jennifer Lim gives a most noteworthy performance, on opening night delivering one of those incredible Steppenwolf-style monologues, filled with fury and passion, so affecting that the audience burst into applause. Francesa Fernandez McKenzie, as Sophea, conveyed in her physical performance as much or more about this pouty, self-immersed girl-woman as the playwright’s fresh, dead-on millennial lines.

Also notable were Coburn Goss as Him’s husband Nate, and particularly Nima Rakhshanifar as Seth, a college student who mows lawns, and whose Middle Eastern and Muslim heritage showed the author is at home writing any type of character. Seth sings a Muslim song of mourning that transcending language, was viscerally moving. A shout out to Andrew Boyce for scenic design, and to Polly Hubbard, dramaturg, a role that serves as eyes and ears so theater companies stay abreast of trending talent and scripts like this one.

Highly recommended, Bald Sisters runs through January 15, 2023 in Steppenwolf’s new 400-set in-the-round Ensemble Theater.

‘Too Hot to Handel’ captures all the majesty of Handel’s baroque music masterpiece, but adds soul, infusing it with the power of equally classic jazz, gospel and blues interpretations. This annual tradition - it ran December 3-4 this year - was launched in 1992, and was first performed at Chicago’s Auditorium Theatre two decades ago, where it returns for two performances each year. It never fails to surprise and delight—so much so this reviewer has seen it six times.

By reinterpreting portions of the classic work with treatments that include varieties of jazz, along with gospel, backbeats, and scat, “Too Hot to Handel” amplifies and highlights Handel's 1741 score. Purists may be tempted to scoff at any meddling with the original, but there are actually many variations in the canon, such as tempo, instrumentation (modern and original instruments), etc.

It is no accident that numerous jazz masters from Keith Jarett to Herbie Hancock move with fluidity between jazz and baroque musical forms. “Too Hot to Handel” shows why. It allows both performers and the audience to respond emotionally to Handel’s inspirational original through the free forms of modern music, relinquishing the intensive restraint imposed by baroque.

Perhaps chief among the numerous powerful performances is that of Rodrick Dickson, an opera star of international renown. His clarion tenor all alone equals in force and magnitude the combined power of the chamber orchestra, jazz combo, and symphonic choirs against which he performs. Dickson’s delivery of “Comfort Ye,” “For He is Like a Refiners Fire” and other sections, carries everything Handel had to have intended for it, and then amps it up with the departures from the work.

Likewise opera soprano Alfreda Burke, whose role hews tighter to Handel’s score, carrying it with clarity and power against the driving backdrop of a swinging orchestra and chorus. An accomplished principal in major productions of Puccini, Poulenc, Beethoven and many others around the world, Burke’s voluptuous voice delights in “There Were Shepherds Abiding in the Field.”

Then there is Karen-Marie Richardson, mezzo-soprano, bringing unabashedly jazz delivery to “Oh Thou that Tellest Good Tidings to Zion” and other sections with a style that contrasts distinctly from Burke and Dickson, and yet is equally as affecting.

There is much more to say about “Too Hot to Handel,” most importantly the tour de force performance by Detroit pianist Alvin Waddles, who at one point must improvise through 18 bars; the sheet music is simply blank, and he runs with it. And each year it seems another star performance emerges, which without question was principal saxophonist Greg Ward, whose stand-up solos were emotionally intense reveries on whatever had preceded them.

Created in 1992 as a collaboration between conductor Marin Alsop with orchestrators and arrangers Bob Christianson and Gary Anderson, “Too Hot to Handel: The Jazz-Gospel Messiah” had its Chicago premiere at the Auditorium Theatre in 2006. The production has returned every year since, formerly during the weekend before Martin Luther King Jr. Day. This year, Too Hot to Handel landed right in the middle of the traditional Messiah season in the weeks leading up to Christmas.

Using the original musical material from Messiah, Alsop, Christianson, and Anderson reinvented the basic melodic and harmonic outlines of Handel’s original by using scat, backbeats, jazz and gospel vocals, and instrumental improvisation. If you missed it this year, mark your calendar for December 2023 when “Too Hot to Handel” returns to the Auditorium 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

“Man of the People,” an original play by Dolores Diaz, tells the incredible but true story of a 1920s medical charlatan, Dr. John Romulus Brinkley, who garnered a large following with a popular medical advice radio program.

He then scammed thousands of his devoted listeners into buying useless tonics, some of it merely colored water. And at his clinic he would perform dangerous surgeries, implanting goat testicles into men’s scrotums, intended to restore virility, but often killing or maiming patients instead.

Produced by Stage Left Theatre and running through November 20 at the Chicago Dramatists, “Man of the People” recounts Brinkley’s seemingly unstoppable rise to fame and fortune, despite the best efforts by the American Medical Association, the Federal Communications Commission, the Food & Drug Administration, and local government regulators. Even the U.S. Congress investigated Brinkley, and Michael Peters is stunning in the role of this antihero who simply relocated and adapted to each restriction, eventually circumventing the FCC by broadcasting from Mexico.

Playwright Diaz, whose most recent credit was “Zulema” at the Goodman in 2021, wraps the story in a tale of the real-life crusading investigative reporter, Chicago’s Dr. Morris Fishbein (Andrew Bosworth gives a knock-out performance), who as editor of the Journal of the American Medical Association outs Brinkley’s chicanery. But no blow was decisive enough to stop the quackery.

In “Man of the People,” Diaz poses a question: Why did people believe Brinkley, even after a series of revelations made public his chicanery?

The question resonates in our world of political demagogues and podcasters cashing in on conspiracy theories and patently false information on subjects ranging from mass shootings, to COVID vaccinations, and even election results. And it seems no matter how demonstrably wrong are the falsehoods, the fans and followers cannot be convinced.

The answer Diaz offers is that, in the case of Brinkley anyway, people were attracted to the hope he offered, a possibility that they could be cured from maladies for which there was no remedy. Clearly “Don’t confuse me with the facts” is a constant in the human condition.

The script wraps the factual saga of Brinkley’s rise and fall with parallel tales: Brinkley’s relationship with his partner in crime and common law wife Minnie (played by Joan Nahid), and Fishbein’s relationship with his AMA research partner Maxwell (played by Shawn Smith) who did the spadework to prove Brinkley’s fraud. Even Fishbein’s mother Fanny (Sandy Spaz) was seduced by Brinkley’s appeal despite her own son’s credentials as an M.D. who persistently discourages her.

While the script is a little uneven, dwelling too long on some areas, and needing a bit more emphasis on the motivation behind the characters, the story is so compelling, I highly recommend this production. The cast is uniformly good, and Smith and Bosworth give highly energized performances. See "Man of the People" through November 20 at the Chicago Dramatists,

The Conspirators is readying its next production—"The Conspirators `125th Anniversary Jubilee, Featuring the Ineptidemic"—opening Friday November 4 at the Otherworld Theatre 3914 N. Clark and running through Saturday November 19.

True to the company’s inimitable, off-beat approach, it promises to be loaded with laughs yet packed with the incisive social commentary associated with this high energy troupe. This show features an 1898 one-act play by Octave Mirbeau, a French commentator, author and playwright who used the stage as a platform to send-up the social foibles of his time.

While Mirbeau modeled some of his work after Moliere’s comedy of manners style, this work was among a half-dozen one-acts published as Farces et moralités in 1904, among them being L'Épidémie (Epidemics, 1898). Mirbeau said to anticipate greats like Bertolt Brecht, Harold Pinter, and Eugène Ionesco.

That centerpiece is bracketed with a series of the high-powered skits for which The Conspirators are known. In the same vain, the company also produced a longer work in 2019, Italian Nobel laureate Dario Fo’s absurdist "Death of an Anarchist," reframing it as "Accidental Death of a Black Motorist."

The Conspirators deliver their shows in a technique called “The Style,” which they describe as a distilled amalgam of the 16th century Italian Commedia dell'Arte. It also carries “influences like Kabuki, Kathakali, Bugs Bunny, and a high-energy punk-rock aesthetic,” according to Sid Feldman, and is like “a coke-fueled clown nightmare.”  Feldman, who takes script credits, and Wm. Bullion, who directs, are the driving forces  behind the company.

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

This is must-see theater of a different sort, and the window is short, with just 10 performances. Find out more at https://www.conspirewithus.org

'The Magnolia Ballet' is an exceptional show—perfect in performances, direction (Mikael Burke), staging. And then there’s the script, by Terry Guest, who also plays the lead as Ezekiel “Z” Mitchell VI. While this show merits a Jeff Award (Chicago's Tony) without doubt, I believe it’s Pulitzer material, at least in my book. Why?

On the surface, 'The Magnolia Ballet' may seem an unassuming tale of a young black boy, Z, and his gradual coming out as gay in an unwelcoming rural South. Bright and sensitive, Z longs for affection denied by a stern and authoritarian father Ezekiel Mitchell V (Wardell Julius Clark). After his mother dies, Z takes solace in a grammar school friend, Danny Mitchell (Ben Sulzberger), a white boy. Best buddies, they do homework and listen to music together, and develop a tacit sexual relationship after puberty. And they probe whether they may have found that unicorn sought so sorely by white people, a post-racial friendship that jettisons five generations of slave and master dynamics.

All this in just 95 minutes (no intermission) that is humorous and adept. Terry Guest as Z is a remarkable actor, and we may have something on the order of 'Hedwig and the Angry Inch,' with author and performer in one. Sheldon D. Brown hovers over the action as Apparition, a ghost and stand-in for numerous men and women, black and white. His performance is a wonder, truly. Wardell Julius Clark is excellent as Z’s father, and periodically, Danny’s father, a white sheriff. Ben Sulzberger as Danny Mitchell nails the role.

Powerful and touching material for a sentimental memoir on its own, but the playwright takes it so much further, providing a sweeping context for examining how he as a gay Black man was formed. It includes the history of his father’s emotional constraints passed down over generations from the progenitor, a slave for whom expressing paternal love could be dangerous. We get a review of four centuries of white apologists for the “necessary evil” of slavery. We hear the specious argument from Z’s best friend about “remembering” the Confederate history but not embracing its roots in the economic defense of slave labor. A host of asides and details like the fact Z’s friend wears a Confederate jacket reproduced in 1910, provide clues to the overarching story: This jacket is not really an artifact saved from 1865, but evidence of the collective cultural consciousness that, replicating and propagating itself, perpetuates racism today.

Playwright Terry Guest gives us the white view of the world accurately, in a way we can understand. Z’s friend Danny laments his generational past: his ancestors helped perpetrate church burnings and the Selma bombing. They were at the revival of the Ku Klux Klan. Danny aspires to be released from his roots, and offers a sincere apology to Z for this baggage. And we get high points of cultural icons like “Gone With the Wind” and the threatening white sheriff seen through white and black eyes.

Guest is schooled in theater and a skillful playwright. Before this Chicago premiere 'The Magnolia Ballet' was staged at Indianapolis' Phoenix Theatre. Guest's other works include 'The Madness of Mary Todd Lincoln,' 'Andy Warhol Presents: The Cocaine Play,' and most recently 'At the Wake of the Dead Drag Queen.' This play is described as a "Southern Gothic fable that melds high drama, poetry. and spectacle to explore masculinity, racism, and the love between a queer kid and his father." 

The production incorporates balletic renderings of a barbershop haircut, evocative song, and Sheldon D. Brown's Apparition renders these and so many other poetic scenes that evidence his prolific background as a an actor from Shakespeare to contemporary works, and educator credits at Steppenwolf and Northlight. It is an underpinning of the play and production.

In the end, the white boy Danny meets a crossroads, forsaking Z in an incident triggered by homophobia, but powered by the centuries of separate and unequal power whites have over Blacks. The suggestion is that the racial divide is so ingrained it perpetuates itself. The playwright artfully gives white people an accessible view of the white world through Black eyes. We see this young Black man suffer for opening his heart to a white man. Guest paints a specific portrait of our racial split, and shows why it is so intractable. If that divide is ever to be bridged, it will be helped by great artists like Guest and the creative team of About Face Theatre. Highly recommended, it runs through June 11 at the Den Theater, 1331 N. Milwaukee Ave. in Chicago.

TimeLine Theatre’s ‘The Chinese Lady’ is a powerful show - poignant, learned, sophisticated - and illuminating. Ninety minutes of engaging drama (no intermission) that left me somewhere between laughing, crying, and standing on my feet to cheer.

Directed by Helen Young from the script by Lloyd Suh (an award-winning playwright now in residence at New York’s New Dramatists) is based on the true story of Afong Moy (Mi Kang gives a stellar performance), brought to New York in 1834 as a living museum exhibit when she was just 14. For 25 cents a ticket, Afung Moy portrayed aspects of life in exotic China: eating a meal with chopsticks, walking in petite slippers covering her tiny bound feet, making tea, and speaking to the audience about life in her homeland. 

As the first Chinese woman to come to the U.S. and American public, we gather from Moy’s presentation that her contractors—New York merchants of Asian imports who are unseen in the play—hoped to inspire an appreciation of China’s culture and people. Her pparents contracted with the merchants for a two-year servitude at the museum. This stretched on for 55 years.

The exhibit space that forms the scenery (Arnell Scanciaco is scenic designer) is built in a Chinese style, and adorned with fine pottery and carvings (Rowen Doe handles properties) the type that merchants would likely have brought from her homeland. 

Afong Moy is assisted in her presentation by Atung (Glenn Obrero is equally excellent in this two-person show). Atung draws the curtain, serves the meal, and fluent in English and Chinese, translates and speaks for her. Over time she gains sufficient fluency to make Atung “superfluous” for speaking to the audience. Their stage personae and their personal relationship forms the structure for the play, and the playwright exploits this expertly.

Because Afong Moy is speaking directly to the ticket holders—that role played by the audience— the fourth wall of the stage is non-existent. We watch the arc of Afong Moy’s acclimation to her new home. When offstage, she lives with an American family and at first expresses disdain for their potatoes and corn, and eating with forks. "Chop sticks are elegant," she says.

We meet her again at age 16, and find Afong Moy is now enjoying American food, and longs to go to San Francisco. Scenes revisit her at various intervals, as she ages, and loses her Cantonese, she forgets what her parents looked like, and question who she is. Over time ticket prices escalate to $15. In adulthood she is invited to the White House by Andrew Jackson. We also see the sweep of history through her eyes: the Opium Wars that led to European domination by decimating Chin with drugs; the construction of the transcontinental railway during the Civil War by Chinese immigrants; and later the rise of anti-immigrant sentiment, and the passage of the Exclusionary Act which in 1882 banned Chinese immigration. 

Secondary themes—the relationship between Atung and Afong Moy in dual planes of unrequited love; Atung and Afong Moy’s growing awareness that they are largely without a life, wearing clothes not their own, speaking words that have been scripted—form existential reveries. They express too the horror of this decadent cultural colonialism. And yet, the indomitability of Afong Moy’s human spirit, her aspirations, are not extinguished. 

‘The Chinese Lady’ runs through June 18 at Theater Wit, 1229 W. Belmont in Chicago. It comes highly recommended. 

Lifeline Theatre has remounted 'Middle Passage' for its return to live production. It is every bit as good, even better, than the run cut short by the pandemic in March 2020.

But this time around I was better able to appreciate the artfulness of the script. Adapted by Ilesa Duncan (who co-directs with David Barr II) from a best-selling National Book Award winning novel by scholar Dr. Charles Johnson. Middle Passage the book is a fictional first-person narrative set in 1830 by a 20-year-old freed slave, Rutherford Calhoun (Ajax Dontavius), who makes his way from Southern Illinois to New Orleans to sow his wild oats.

It is an exciting show: absolutely entertaining, well-produced, extremely well-acted. It would have been a crying shame if audiences didn't get another chance to see the inventive staging, a realistic ship's deck crammed into Lifeline's compact quarters at 6912 N. Glenwood in Chicago. It runs through June 5 so don't miss it.

Entertaining as it is, 'Middle Passage' also recounts the enslavement and transport of Africa’s Almuseri people, their inhumane treatment by a cruel ship’s captain, and plans by the captain to sell their most sacred possession, a statue of a living god kept stowed with the slaves below. How do these opposites co-exist in one play? Sadly, just as they do in daily life. 

Ajax Dontavius as Rutherford Calhoun carries the weight of the show, onstage nearly every minute, and he acquits hiimself exceptionally well as the wandering young man. Like a 19th century literary character (think Thackeray’s Barry Lyndon), we live his experiences through Calhoun's first-person point of view. As the good and bad pass before his eyes during his adventures, he makes frequent asides to speak directly to the audience—really very Shakespearean, with some of these in metered rhyme. As in life the lighthearted moments and the tragic co-exist, and at first, Calhoun drifts through them all, witnessing but unaffected.

Calhoun is on the make in New Orleans, and without means – courting young ladies, but also running up debts. This comes to the notice of Papa Zeringue (Lynsey Falls is excellent), a Creole mob boss holding 50,000 francs in Calhoun’s promissory notes. Papa Zeringue tells Calhoun he must pay, or he will be thrown into the deeps of the Mississippi. 

Thankfully for Calhoun, he has won the heart of the chaste school marm, Isadora (Shelby Lynn Bias is superb in the role), a very refined young Black schoolteacher from Boston, whose family has been free four generations. Isadora has some savings, and unbeknownst to Calhoun, negotiates to pay his debts to Papa Zeringue, on the condition Calhoun is forced to marry her.

Calhoun is not interested in marriage, and so escapes by stowing aboard the ship Republic. Discovered days after it puts out to sea, he joins the crew, but soon learns the Republic is an illegal slaver, on its way to Africa to pick up human cargo. With that, the story opens to an exciting seafaring tale with all the trappings—storms, cannon fire, mutiny, betrayals, culminating in a shipwreck following a slave rebellion. Here, as my companion noted the blocking is remarkable, the tiny stage presenting a ship tossed on the sea, conveyed by the carefully orchestrated movements of the crew and cargo tossed to and fro. 

Calhoun is there for selfish reasons - “Of all the things that drive men to sea, the most common disaster, I've come to learn, is women” – as one character puts it. As an “everyman” character, we watch Calhoun try to avoid dirtying his hands in a mutiny, and later negotiating with the slaves who seize the ship. But Calhoun changes through his experience, befriending the slaves and shifting from aloof observer to their advocate. convincing the slaves to spare the helmsman who alone can guide them back to their homeland. Calhoun develops his moral compass through the trials, and as my companion suggests, is like the hero in the tale of Gilgamesh, back where he started as the boat finally returns to port in New Orleans, but a changed man, and a beautiful resolution of the series of plot points follows.

In addition to Baily and Dontavius, the cast is uniformly good - really good - and most play multiple ensemble roles, as well as their principle character: Hunter Bryant (Calhoun’s brother Jackson), also, notably plays the role of a young slave learning English who bonds with Calhoun. All the players are good: Patrick Blashill (Captain Falcon) and Christopher Vizurraga (Peter Cringle); Benjamin Jenkins (Santos), Monty Kane (Jackson/Ngonyama), Robert Koon (Josiah Squibb), MarieAnge Louis-Jean (Baleka), Kellen Robinson (Tom), and Gerrit Wilford (McGaffin).

The production team are also stars, kudos to Alan Donahue (Scenic and Properties Designer), Elise Kauzlaric (Dialect Coach), Maren Robinson (Dramaturg); Amelia Ablan (Production Manager), Noah Abrams (Master Electrician), Kyle Bajor (Co-Lighting Designer),, Barry Bennett (Sound Designer), Connor Blackwood (Assoc. Sound Designer), Alex Gendal (Projections Designer), Galen Hughes (Asst. Stage Manager), Harrison Ornelas (Technical Director), Nicole Clark Springer (Choreographer/Movement Designer), Mattie Switzer (Stage Manager), Scott Tobin (Co-Lighting Designer), Shawn Wallace (Composer/Music Director), and Anna Wooden (Costume Designer).

Alan Donohue's gives us a lovingly crafted sailing vessel with multiple decks, stowage, working winch, mast and beam – all integrated to the projection design and sound design makes us feel for all the world we are at sea, particularly during storms and battles. 

The play originated at Pegasus Players in 2016 as 'Rutherford’s Travels.' But this version seems very strongly rooted in African storytelling culture, which taps a type of magical realism, to my mind (like Colson Whitehead’s Underground Railroad). Its title is far more resonant today: Middle Passage also refers to the slave shipping route that represents the crucible of emotional and spiritual transformation of human beings from free, cultured Africans to impoverished American slaves.

Highly recommended, see 'Middle Passage' at www.lifelinetheatre.com.