Displaying items by tag: Greenhouse Theatre Center

“This Is Our Youth,” with mesmerizing performances by Kason Chesky as Warren, Grayson Kennedy as Dennis, and Annalie Ciolino as Jessica, is still vital and fresh nearly thirty years after its Off Broadway premiere. Playwright Kenneth Lonergan set it in 1982 during the Reagen era, but these 48 hours in the lives of three dissolute young adults read fresh and vital today as it did almost 30 years ago.

Much of that is attributable to the outstanding performances of all three actors in Gwydion Theatre’s production at Greenhouse Theatre. Under the direction of Andrew Shipman, this trio really gives voice to Lonergan’s deftly drawn characters - locked in their personal traumas and immersed in the travails of their emergence from their upper middle class homes to independence. It’s just a snapshot - two days - during which the characters have some of their best and worst moments.

The two-act play is simple and straightforward: 19-year-old Warren has been booted from his house by his abusive dad, a driven businessman, and secretly lifts $15,000 of dad’s cash as he heads out. Arriving at his friend Dennis’s apartment, suitcase in hand, Warren is a dweeb and awkward, totally aggravating, and we soon side with the more dynamic and charismatic Dennis, who doesn’t want the risk of harboring Warren and his cash.

But Dennis relents, and hatches a plan for the hapless Warren to replenish the missing funds that he has carelessly spent along the way. Here’s how Buzz editor Ken Payne described it in the 2014 Steppenwolf production: a hair-brained scheme where they would buy some coke, keep some for themselves, cut it and then resell it for a profit exceeding the amount needed to replace the full fifteen thousand dollars.

Though I saw the 2014 Steppenwolf version of “This Is Our Youth,” which starred Michael Cera and Kieran Caulkin, I liked this version much, much better. Cera, in the Warren role, was a one-note actor, and Caulkin had nothing to play against - I really didn’t notice how good the script was. In Gwydion Theatre’s sterling production, we quickly learn that these young men have a neurotically abusive relationship.

Dennis is an ill-tempered drug user and purveyor; and Warren weathers a constant barrage of his demeaning put-downs and mean-spirited physical jousting.
When Dennis departs to carry out the scheme, we have a chance to meet Jessica, and Ciolino’s performance is outstanding. Her character allows the other dimensions of Warren’s personality to unfold, and we gain empathy andrespect for the two as more fully emotionally developed individuals, especially compared to Dennis.

Throughout the play, the conversations deliver the exposition and backstories effortlessly, another tribute to Lonergan’s script, and why this play resurfaces so frequently, and remains fresh and meaningful. The two-act run time is over two hours plus intermission. But it grips our interest throughout, and never really falters. Chesky’s Warren is onstage nearly throughout, and he delivers a remarkable performance, but Kennedy and Ciolino are every bit his equals. The energy required of Kennedy in the role of the manic, drug-altered Dennis, may be a formula for stage burn-out, but he carried it off admirably on opening night.

“This Is Our Youth” comes highly recommended, and runs through September 28 at the Greenhouse Theatre Center on Lincoln Avenue in Chicago.

“Can’t Pay? Won’t Pay!" by Dario Fo is incredibly funny and a complete surprise. I’d seen one other hilarious play based on a Daniel Fo script, “Accidental Death of a Black Chicago Motorist,” but that liberally adapted work by The Conspirators hadn’t prepared me for how funny this 1997 Nobel Laureate’s writing is.

In a fresh translation from the 1974 Italian original, “Can’t Pay? Won’t Pay!” is a two-act political farce that zings in the hands of the Gwydion Theatre troupe, some of them recent arrivals from their native Los Angeles, and whose style and performances are unlike other Chicago companies—as good as the best Chicago has, but with a fresh approach.

Directed by ensemble member Nena Martins, the story centers on Antonia (Audrey Busbee) and Margherita (Ellie Thomson), two working-class Italian housewives who participate in a women-led action wherein they steal from the supermarket as a response to an unconscionable rise in prices. Fearful of the police, and criticism from their husbands Giovanni (Caleb Petre) and Luigi (Jason Pavlovich), they try to cover their misdemeanors in a most amusing way.

The performance relies on a world-premiere translation adapted by Ember Sappington, laced seamlessly with contemporary American idiom. Fo taps a European tradition of commedia dell'arte and farce, so its humor is at times broad but still funny. The performers are uniformly excellent, each in their own way, Antonia, played excellently by Audrey Busbee (a product of Chicago’s Columbia College) gives the play its weight.

A real standout is the performance by Jason Pavlovich as Luigi, who is completely natural and believable, and seems to be acting on another plane from the rest, but it works. Also notable is Andrew Shipman in three roles as Officer/Carabiniere/Senior, also with a style all his own.

Gwydion Theatre, with Grayson Kennedy as artistic director, formed in LA in 2019 by a group of actors fresh out of training soon tackling full scale productions at the Hollywood Fringe Festival. They say that following the pandemic, they decided to move to Chicago “in order to connect with a more artistic theater landscape.” Well, welcome!

It’s a sign of the seriousness of Gwydion Theatre that they selected a work by Fo—once a popular and highly regarded contemporary playwright (he died in 2016).”Can’t Pay? Won’t Pay!” is said to have inspired a real-life protest in Milan in which housewives took over the checkout stations at a Milan grocery store. Gwydion’s inaugural season in Chicago opened with Edward Albee’s "The Zoo Story," and will finish with the American classic ‘Waiting for Lefty’ by Clifford Odetts."Can't Pay? Won't Pay!" runs through December 17 at The Greenhouse Theater Cemter, 2257 N. Lincoln Ave. in Chicago.

We all know that certain words are verboten in polite society - some because they are coarse, like expletives; others because they are demeaning or belittling, or off-limits.

One of these – the N-word – is the hook that triggers the action in a new play, called, simply, ‘N,’ at the Greenhouse Theater Center. Smoothly directed by TaRon Patton, the story revolves around an ambitious young actor, Eddy (Ryan Smetana) who has been hired as a live-in aid for the 70-year-old Mrs. Page (Stacie Doublin).

Immediately we are intrigued by Mrs. Page, who is a character rarely (if ever) portrayed, an African-American Goldwater Republican. Eddy, who is white, is all about proper liberal social behavior, in visible arenas, like recycling, and bringing his own shopping bags to the grocery store. He is also rather a narcissist, and the consummate guy with his heart-on-his-sleeve.

Mrs. Page does not suffer his foolishness gladly, and has reluctantly accepted his arrival in her home. She quickly sets, and carefully maintains, a dividing line to ward off any emotional intimacy with this intruder. But Eddy is young, and crashes and burns a couple times – expecting and eventually getting emotional support, though its dispensed sparingly by Mrs. Page.

Things all come to a head when Eddy gets his career break with a major name theater production. But then, a script rewrite inserts the ‘N’ word in the show, and he resigns the role. There are stormy moments for both parties.

And Mrs. Page, who earns a living as a stock trader and investment advisor, makes a compelling case for her support - as an African-American – for conservative 1960s-era Republican Barry Goldwater, who staunchly defended the right of the individual. “Contrary to popular opinion,” Mrs. Page tells Eddy, “you are a minority – of one.”  

Playwright David Alex shows canny skillfulness in the craftsmanship of ‘N.’ For example, as the play opens, Eddy is auditioning with lines from Oedipus concerning fate versus free will, done in a Southern dialect - foreshadowing the discussions ahead. 

Still the first act needs polishing: lines by Mrs. Page like, “Your employment includes room and board,” and “Understand it is not by my choice that you are employed here,” seem less like dialog than scene-setting pronouncements. At two different points, in a darkened room, a phone call is overheard by an unseen third party – that seems contrived. And Eddy behaves and speaks with unnatural familiarity as a new arrival in Mrs.Page's home. Likewise for Mrs. Page, though she is rough, not friendly like Eddy.

There seem to be some distracting plot points, e.g., Mrs. Page is an avid astrologist, but has been housebound since one of her predictions led to tragedy. And she cooks Jewish dishes for a neighbor.

The second act, though, completely redeems things – suggesting that first half may be in development still. We really see the characters come into their own. Stacie Doublin is powerful in the later dialog. And a final, doleful scene performed in silence by Eddy and Mrs. Page is moving and strongly affecting.

Also noteworthy is the performance of Reginald Hemphill as Eddy’s buddy DeShawn, who commands the stage for his brief time on it. Speaking also on word usage, “You are not a ‘brother,’” DeShawn, who is African-American, advises Eddy. “This may come as a shock to your white liberal sensibilities, but you are not black!”

Alex, who is a fixture in Chicago theater, has written more than a dozen other scripts, including Eroica at Red Twist Theatre, and Ends, which won an African-American Theater Festival Award at the University of Louisville. ‘N,’ thought provoking and lively, comes recommended. ‘N’ runs through November 17 at Greenhouse Theatre in Chicago.

It’s a rainy night in Edinburgh, a divorce lawyer name Helena is sitting alone in the corner of a pub. She has just been stood up by her lover who so happened to be married to another woman. Across the room is a petty criminal named Bob who’s reading Notes from Underground by Fyodor Dostoevsky to cheer him up, somber from a life he feels is unfulfilled. Helena takes a chance and approaches Bob with a bottle of wine in her hand. From there, the characters catapult the audience into a chaotic weekend and will give you a theatre experience that will have you filled with bliss and laughter.

David Greig’s 'Midsummer (A Play with Songs)' is a delightful retelling of a weekend Bob, and Helena never expected to be the weekend that would change their lives forever. They grab the audience by the arm and pull them into the lives of two middle-aged adults tormented by an unsatisfaction with the outcome of their lives. Two lost souls that clash together out of desperation to feel a connection. After a one night stand, they conclude that they can never be compatible, but, of course, life has a funny way of keeping them together.  

In this unconventional romantic comedy, Bob and Helena not only poke fun at themselves and the dozen characters they interact with, but they take moments to rant away the misgivings of life. They do so in such an elegant and humorous way that doesn’t force the audience to feel sorry for them but rather feel connected to them. Midsummer is a play that calls for the two main actors to play sixteen parts between them, play an instrument, act and sing wonderfully and do this all in a Scottish accent. A challenge well accepted by Chicago celebrated Chaon Cross and Patrick Mulvey. Both actors show a chemistry that comes across as natural as two college buddies taking a night out on the town. 

Chaon Cross is a joy to watch. A force that draws you in with her passionate performance. In a production where the actors simply move to the side, rather than leave the stage, while the other takes the spotlight. Chaon Cross calls for your attention even in the shadows of the background. 

In saying that, Patrick Mulvey, who this past spring played the title role in David Auburn’s The Adventures of Augie March, performance is not to be overlooked. He will have you laughing out loud from beginning to end and absorbs the character of Bob so well it’s hard to imagine anyone else filling in that role. 

By calling itself a play with songs and not just a musical, the play strips away the notion that you will be sitting through a dry tale that forces long musical numbers in your ears. Instead, Midsummer offers easy listening acoustics with quirky lyrics that enhances the story rather than push it along. Certain songs will follow you well after the show is over. One may bubble up in the back of your head after waking up to a nasty hangover; "The Hangover Song" or you may find yourself quietly singing the chorus of a song called "Japanese Rope Bondage" in the shower (I mean, the play has a song called "The Song of Bob’s Cock"). This alone should give you an indication that this production will take you to a place you may have never been before.   

If you have ever watched a Hollywood produced rom-com in the last twenty years, you will find 'Midsummer’s' world familiar. The plot hits all the points you’ve seen in almost every romantic comedies. And there’s nothing wrong with that. It wouldn’t be a romantic comedy if there weren’t a risk of the relationship to never be or a secret Bob and Helena hide from each other to keep you involved. Despite its familiarity, the characters will also lead you into refreshing avenues as they tell their story. One example is when Bob leads you into his mind as he battles with his consciousness with the fact that his youth is long gone. 

In a theatre where you could sit on the top row and toss a quarter onto the stage with a flick of the wrist, there’s seem to be no limit on what the actors can do on and off the stage. Bob and Helena invites you into the bedroom they shared, inside their minds, and they will hand you their heart. They dare you to not only listen but to part take. To join in as they sing and dance and interact as they stumble around the stage in a hangover haze. They’ll have you looking left and right and out your chair to get a better view of the moment even if you’re sitting in the front row. 'Midsummer (A Play with Songs)' is a smart and exciting gem that would be a shame to miss. 

'Midsummer (A Play with Songs)' runs through October 6, 2019, at Greenhouse Theatre Center on Lincoln Ave.

Dead Man’s Cell Phone- its title a built in spoiler alert - opens with an unbeatable scene: In a nearly deserted café, the young woman Jean (Cydney Moody) dining alone is disturbed by the repeatedly ringing cellphone at the next table.

The young man sitting there with his back to us makes no effort to answer it. In frustration she walks over to confront him, and gets a shocking surprise. Then she answers the phone – it is Mrs. Gottlieb, seeking her son, Gordon, the man whose back is to us – and Jean tells her he can’t answer.

Jean continues to answer more phone calls from relatives and business associates. She soon becomes enmeshed in the family and its affairs, and what we learn are Gordon’s unseemly business dealings. That set-up was enough to make me see this play for a second time – I had been so thrilled by Steppenwolf’s 2008 production that I bought the script and rave about the play – it has also made me a fan of Ruhl, a Macarthur Genius and Yale drama professor.

Ruhl's scripts, especially Dead Man's Cell Phone, go well beyond the ordinary, bundling sometimes conflicting dramatic elements – the literal storyline of the plot, but infused with absurdism and serving up commentary on religious, philosophical, and psychological issues. All that gives Dead Man’s Cell Phone true substance, but the audience also gets an entertaining show that is largely a romantic comedy – and very funny at that.

Among the most entertaining aspects of Dead Man’s Cell Phone is the irreverence. Soon after that café scene, we meet Mrs. Gottlieb onstage, a well-off matron, and now delivering a eulogy at her son Gordon’s funeral. Describing herself as non-religious, Mrs. Gottlieb (her name, ironically, mean’s God’s Love) praises the soaring sanctuary.

I’m not sure what to say. There is, thank God, a vaulted ceiling here. I am relieved to find that there is stained glass and the sensation of height. Even though I am not a religious woman I am glad there are still churches. Thank God there are still people who build churches for the rest of us, so that when someone dies – or gets married – we have a place to - I could not put all of this – in a low-ceilinged room – no – it requires height.

Then a cell phone goes off and Mrs. Gottleib swears. In minutes she violates a sacred space, taboos on foul language, funerary propriety; she is off-hand about her son’s religious service, and the church in which it takes place. It’s subversive, and very funny.

High praise is due for The Comrade theater group's selection of Dead Man’s Cell Phone. It is well done, but compared to other versions perhaps a bit more “in your face” (and maybe a little off script). Director Arianna Soloway has chosen to give the overall production a “noir” flavor, and adds theatrical flourishes that serve as commentary on how cellphones have become mandatory appendages for humans.

In the 12 years since Ruhl wrote this script, cell phones have insinuated themselves even more eventfully into our lives. This production at Greenhouse Theater has elaborate scene changing routines, with actors dressed in trench coats and fedoras to move sets, and holding a phone on-high as they leave. But arguably this puts an emphasis on an aspect of the play that mattered to Ruhl. And perhaps it's a matter of preference; I like a leaner approach that relies more on the language and timing for Sarah Ruhl’s devastatingly funny lines.

But the audience around me was loving this show, and there was a lot of laughter. Bryan Breau as Gordon turned in the best performance, while Mike Newquist as his younger brother Dwight and Lynette Li as Gordon’s widow Hermia were very strong in keeping the intellectual mayhem afloat. Cydney Moodey carries off well Jean as Everyman, and this seems to be exactly as Ruhl intended. 

The night I saw the show, Caroline Latta as Mrs. Gottlieb had all the imperiousness Ruhl must have a intended, but some of the humor fell flat because the timing was off. (When Jean is rescued by Dwight in one scene, Mrs. Gottlieb asks her if she would like “a cold compress, some quiche” and the interval between those phrases is the difference between funny ha ha and funny weird.) 

Titles of Sarah Ruhl's plays suggest her outlook: How to Transcend a Happy Marriage, For Peter Pan on her 70th Birthday, In the Next Room, or the vibrator play, The Clean House and Stage Kiss (I’ve seen the last three). She is a two-time Pulitzer Prize finalist and a Tony Award nominee. Her plays have been produced on Broadway, and translated into 14 languages.

Withal, this show is highly recommended: an opportunity to see Dead Man's Cell Phone performed live should not be missed. It's at the Greenhouse Theater through March 10, 2019.

Rose, the one-woman show featuring the matriarch of the Kennedy family, has returned to the Greenhouse Theater Center. In an extraordinary performance by Linda Reiter, Rose provides a back-story on the family dynamics at play among the Kennedy’s - a window into the powerful maternal force that delivered so many dynamic individuals, including two Senators and a President, to the public sphere.

The show received accolades during its 2016 incarnation, and it is easy to see why. But the social landscape has changed mightily since then. But it was probably not planned that way at Greenhouse Theater. The current run, which coincides with the first anniversary of President Donald Trump’s election, serves as a commentary on the times - with a Presidency that has moved into what Peggy Noonan has called a “post heroic” phase. 

Highly successful in its original run in Chicago and off-Broadway, this 120-minute, one-act script by  Laurence Leamer artfully chronicles the trials of the long-suffering Rose Fitzgerald Kennedy. Though during the days when her sons Jack, Robert, and Ted Kennedy were in office, Rose Kennedy was a more behind the scenes public force than another comparable political scion, Barbara Bush, in her day.

“I’d rather be the mother of the President than the President,” Rose tells us, moving around a sitting room of French provincial furniture, in slacks, sweater and pearls, and her signature black bouffant hairdo. She lifts the many photos and peruses albums, some of which are also projected on a wal behind the set.

The details into the family come from years of research by author Leamer, who wrote a best-selling trilogy on the Kennedys - The Kennedy Women, The Kennedy Men and Sons of Camelot - all New York Times best sellers. Leamer was subsequently given access to 50 hours of taped interviews with Rose Kennedy, which provide a previously unseen look into the family, including infidelities and troubling dynamics of her marriage to Joseph P. Kennedy, Sr., a successful businessman, and appointed by Franklin Roosevelt as the first chairman of the Securities & Exchange Commission. He is known also to Chicagoans as the owner of the Merchandise Mart.

Chicago actress Linda Reiter reprises her role, in an excellent, highly polished performance that will draw a tear as she recounts the many successes of her offspring, four of whom (Jack assassinated in 1963 and Robert in 1968; her oldest Joseph, dies in an air force bombing mission 1944; and Kathleen in a 1947 plane crash).

It is a telling commentary on the cultural landscape that the relevance of Rose is quite changed. During its 2016 run, Artistic Director Jacob Harvey anticipated former first lady Hillary Clinton as a first woman U.S. President.  And one whose spouse had leveraged political links to the Kennedy family during his Presidential campaigns.  

But that was not how it turned out. And so how do we look at Rose today?

Leamer presents a full-dimensioned character with Rose, who is revealed over the course of this 100-minute one-act by her one-sided conversation with an unseen visitor, who arrives soon after Ted Kennedy’s Chappaquiddick scandal cum tragedy.

Periodically phone calls interrupt – her daughters Eunice and Pat; the widow Jacqueline. She is hoping to hear from Teddy, her only remaining son, but he is AWOL for the moment.

In the face of this latest blow to the family, Rose is seeking solace in the Greek tragedies, citing Hecuba, a play by Euripides.

This detail by Leamer gives the play heft and illuminates its underpinnings; we are to see Rose as a woman who has suffered unbearable pain, and yet she endures. Her ancient counterpart Hecuba has several parallels to Rose: she lost her throne as queen when Troy fell; she had nineteen children with wealthy King Priam; she saw a daughter Polyxena sacrificed by enemies, and her youngest son, Polydorus, murdered by enemies.

Rose Kennedy had nine children with wealthy Joseph P. Kennedy; she lived to see two assassinated and two killed in crashes.

Euripides Hecuba is driven mad by her suffering. Rose handles it with Stoicism – another gift of the Greeks, though her version comes by way of the Catholic Church of Irish-Americans.   

“My faith is a discipline, a path from which I never wander,” Rose tells us. She references the Greeks again in a quote favored by her son, Bobby - “God, whose law it is that he who learns must suffer. And even in our sleep pain that cannot forget, falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despite, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God.”

If the Presidency is in a post-heroic phase, the play Rose gives us access to the powerful story of the a more congenial moment in time when individuals and leaders asked not what the country could do for them, but what they could do for the country. Rose runs through March 11 at the Greenhouse Theater Center.

Brett Neveu is a playwright to watch. To call him up-and-coming would be unfair as his work has appeared at The Goodman, Writers Theatre and Red Orchid Threatre. His new play "Her America" is being presented by The Greenhouse Theater Center as part of their Solo Celebration Series. 

Directed by Linda Gillum, "Her America" is single character play starring Kate Buddeke. She gives a riveting performance as a not-all-there Midwestern housewife locked in a basement. Buddeke embodies the character effortlessly. Her delivery is familiar and in many lines, hauntingly real. 

In the hour we spend with this unnamed character, she uses objects in her basement to freely associate memories and stories from her childhood. To whom she is speaking remains a mystery throughout. Neveu's script is highly detailed which serves to dimensionalize Buddeke's character. Through random memories, she explains the various influences in her life and how she became the person she is.

"Her America" files down to a crushing revelation, but along the way uncovers something darker. It says a lot about what life is like in America for those with few options. It's rare when the theater gives a truly empathetic portrayal of rural life. "Her America" was written in a bitterly devisive time and its message is to say that we should be more understanding with each other. 

Through February 12 at The Greenhouse Theater Center. 2257 N Lincoln Ave. 

What do Michael Jackson and Abraham Lincoln have in common? Playwright Bixby Elliot explores the parallels between the sixteenth president, the king of pop and the landscape for LGBT youth in his new play “Abraham Lincoln was a Faggot” at About Face Theatre.

Elliot’s play follows two intertwining narratives in an attempt to answer the eternal question: was Abraham Lincoln gay? In the present, there is Cal (Matt Farabee), a high schooler coming to terms with his sexuality while trying to prove Lincoln’s orientation. In the past, there is the supposed story of Lincoln’s homosexual love affairs. In between are Cal’s terrified mother (Jessie Fisher) and uncle (Nathan Hosner) who must traverse the uneasy waters of an older generation’s attitude toward homosexuality.

Director Andrew Volkoff brings together a well-equipped cast for this show. Dana Black’s clowning as narrator, historian and Ellen Degeneres will likely be most remembered. She accents and punctuates nearly every scene and it brings a much needed sense of lightness. Jessie Fisher in a duel role as both Mary Todd Lincoln and Cal’s mother balances  eccentricity and subtlety.

Bixby’s script, even if at times extraneous, has a lot of heart and makes a lot of great points about our media obsessed culture. At first the Michael Jackson musical numbers and background tracks seem strangely out of place, but as the show continues the script points to two lives lived under grueling American scrutiny. The author writes from a much more closeted generation than our current times, but still the struggle to live a life that is true to oneself is the ultimate argument. This essential human necessity transcends race, gender, class and sexuality. The script is well-structured and under Volkoff’s direction, has a real sense of emotional authenticity that could be lost in such an inventive concept.

Through July 5^th. At the Green House Theatre Center. 2257 N Lincoln Ave. 773-404-7336

 "Anna in the Afterlife" is a play based on author Richard Engling’s friendship and collaboration with Fern Chertkow, a dear longtime friend, writer, and colleague who took her own life in 1988.

There was so much in this play that I enjoyed in terms of its emotional themes and the exploration of what happens to your consciousness immediately after death. The play also admirably tries to answer the question of what happens after death if you commit suicide.

Richard Engling played himself in this production which I think was meant to be sort of an homage to the Woody Allen type of storytelling but unfortunately Engling’s writing is so much better than his acting ability for the stage that all of the very talented supporting actors were forced to sort of dance around him, helping him into each moment on stage instead of playing the characters directly to each other as trained actors normally would.

The stage and lighting design were lovely to look at and helped define the storyline which jumped around in time a little too often to follow the main idea of the play. Literally jumping back in time to meeting his friend in Paris then back to his struggles in the afterlife then to visit all three splintered personalities of his friend as a little girl, young woman and deceased spirit, became very confusing after a while but were still interesting and evocative scenes in and of themselves.

The play in its current state can be moving at times and even has the ability to connect with its audience in areas particularly if you have recently lost a loved one and can easily identify with the soul searching and guilt that seems to universally accompany any death. Anna in the Afterlife might hit home especially if a friend or family member has suffered from cancer or another painful disease or has taken their own life.

The play definitely needs a rewrite though to make it more comprehensible as there is much to learn from this piece and many interesting ideas to ponder about grieving and the nature of life and death and consciousness. Also, Engling should step outside of the next production and cast a really talented and mature stage actor who can play his life in such a way so that we feel more compassion for his character’s flaws and struggles.

Directed by Susan Padveen, Anna in the Afterlife is playing at the Greenhouse Theatre Center through May 24^th. For tickets and/or more information visit http://greenhousetheater.org/.