Displaying items by tag: Writers Theatre

You know if a musical wins the Pulitzer, it’s going to be a sad one. Creative team Tom Kitt and Brian Yorkey took home the 2010 Pulitzer for ‘Next to Normal’, an award rarely given to musical theatre. David Cromer returns to Writers Theatre to direct this highly anticipated revival. Cromer has strong roots with the Glencoe-based company and this faithful, yet distinct production contains all the hallmarks of his signature style. Cromer also directed the Tony awarded production of ‘The Band’s Visit’ which just closed on Broadway last month.

‘Next to Normal’ is a rock opera about a suburban mother and housewife dealing with bipolar disorder. Not exactly the sexiest topic for a musical, but lyricist Brian Yorkey cuts through the schmaltz with deeply effective words about the state of mental health in America.

This show relies heavily on the small cast, but probably even heavier on the actress in the lead role. Keely Vasquez is devastating as Diana Goodman. Her performance is realistic and shocking as she rapidly slips from seemingly normal mother into the depths of psychosis, while mostly in song. A tough order to fill without losing your audience. Her daughter Natalie is played by Kyrie Courter who appears to be displaying Cromer’s directorial style the strongest in this ensemble. She has a great voice that she maintains even during the most challenging moments of acting.

Writers’ remount of ‘Next to Normal’ is hardly an area premier, as the national tour starring Alice Ripley made a stop in Chicago, and a few other companies have tackled this one since. Though Writers’ production feels like a definitive regional engagement. Cromer has a knack for these hard-hitting musicals. Some may remember his gritty, raw production of ‘RENT’ at the now defunct American Theatre Company. His vision for this show is unique and tends to go for the emotional gut rather than crystal clear showtune belting. While this may irk some musical theatre purists, the visceral sounds of the cast seem more authentic than the original cast recording.

This show is more like a play in song, than a traditional musical. Its depth lies in that it’s a story about specific characters dealing with an issue that many people can see themselves in. Even if you can’t relate to the character dealing with bipolar, the plight of the characters effected is heartbreaking. ‘Next to Normal’ is a slow builder. It isn’t really until the second act that it all catches up to you and by the finale, it’s hard to find anyone not emoting. This production is well worth hopping on the Metra for. If you missed the tour or the Broadway engagement, fear not, Cromer delivers an equally satisfying product.

Through June 16 at Writers Theatre. 325 Tudor Court, Glencoe IL 847-242-6000

A Number is an elegant, fully enthralling thought piece by one of Britain’s greatest playwrights, Caryl Churchill. Just over an hour long, it is relentlessly intriguing, keeping you on the edge of your seat as you follow the unfolding story - first in bits and pieces, then building to a torrent of revelation, and finally slamming shut, like a book cover at the end of an intense mystery.

Set in the not too distant future, A Number opens with father and son midway through an intense conversation. We can see the son, Bernard, is distraught.

We piece together that Bernard has learned that his birth was the product of a scientific intervention. But this is not the root of his upset. Rather, he has discovered that the research scientist, now deceased, employed experimental methods and went further than he should have.

With a powerful performances by William Brown as the father, Salter, and the skillful Nate Burger in the role of Bernard, this mystery puts the audience through an intellectual puzzle along the lines of Proof or Doubt.

In this case, Bernard learns that he is not alone - that there were other test tube babies cloned in that lab. More painfully, perhaps, we gather that Bernard has a whiff of suspicion his father was complicit with everything, and continues to dissemble.

“They said none of us was the original,” Bernard tells Salter. “If you are not my father, it’s fine. If you did an in vitro or whatever, just tell me.” How many were there?

“A number,” his father replies vaguely, and again we sense he knows more than he is admitting. He moves to distract Bernard from this upset by calculating the dollar value of a lawsuit against the laboratory for this violation of their trust.

In fact, Salter knows much more, but we must not spoil the plot. We can say Churchill artfully traverses the science, emotional and dramatic terrain in a unique way - exploring our tendency to all too easily surrender governance of our souls to the technological wonders surrounding us. It is also a tragedy, and Brown’s Shakespearean chops serve him well as he laments, “I did some bad things, and I deserve to be punished,” but adding a post-modern twist, “And I did some better things, and I deserve recognition for that.” Bernard rails back, “That’s how everyone feels!” And we wallow with them in our uniquely contemporary angst.

This work, written in 2002, is a precursor to the dark intensity we experience in watching Black Mirror on television. The action heightens and takes violent twists that are shocking even if unseen. The scenic design by Courtney O’Neill, with black picture windows looking out on the void, conveys an eerie spectre of foreboding.

Churchill is known for Cloud Nine, Top Girls, and Serious Money, all three of them Obie winning works - but I am sorry to say I did not know more of her. Now I will be unable to forget her. 

Plaudits to the creative team at Writers Theatre, including dramaturg Bobby Kennedy in this masterful production tightly directed by Robin Witt. We can highly recommend it. A Number runs through June 9, 2019 at Writers Theatre in Glencoe.

Ask yourself, do you have hope that things can get better? The word itself certainly echoes back to a different political climate in America. Now it seems the very word has been replaced with fear. Jen Silverman’s new play ‘Witch’ is holding its world premiere at Writers Theatre in Glencoe. It’s an update on a seventeenth century tragicomedy but don’t let that fool you, this play has a lot to say about our modern world.

Directed by Marti Lyons, ‘Witch’ tells the tale of the devil coming to a small village. Like all plays concerning Satan, the devil is after souls in exchange for worldly goods or successes of some kind. Ryan Hallahan plays Scratch, one of the devil’s henchman. His wile body language and delivery make him a slick salesman for the master of dark desires. For the villagers already lacking good morals, his pitch is an easy sell. He quickly pits the son of the richest man in town, Cuddy Banks (Steve Haggard) against an ambitious interloper Frank Thorney (Jon Hudson Odom) in a battle for inheritance and land.

This arc serves as the main driver of plot in this 90-minute play but the real meat lies in the battle between Scratch and the town outcast, or witch, Elizabeth Sawyer (Audrey Francis). Elizabeth begins the play with a monologue that asks about hope and explains the mundane cruelties we commit against one another. Francis is captivating. The character is sarcastic and dry. Silverman’s dialogue flows perfectly through Francis’ performance and her emotional reckoning brings about one of the play’s most powerful moments.

Finally, a play about witches that isn’t ‘The Crucible’. Silverman’s script is a lot of fun. It gets to mingle in the 1600s but enjoy the freedom and accessibility of modern dialogue. The contrast is purposeful, asking the audience, has anything really changed? Whether the play is optimistic or pessimistic is really up to the viewers’ interpretation. Either way, there are a lot of laughs here that in the end build to a greater philosophical question. Is change possible or do we have to just start over again from scratch?

If it’s something spooky you’re after, ‘Witch’ will scratch your itch. Though not really a horror story, the intricate production design by Yu Shibagaki gets into the Halloween spirit. Even with the devil, and a supposed witch, this play isn’t really about the supernatural. Rather, it relies on human meanness as the haunting theme, and honestly what’s scarier than that?

Through December 16 at Writers Theatre 325 Tudor Court, Glencoe. 847-242-6000

The story of the aftermath of the U.S. involvement in the Vietnam War has been told and retold, but never in such a lively and colorful manner as Vietgone, now playing at the Writers Theatre in Glencoe.

Written with the insight and perspective of a first-generation millennial, the play by Qui Nguyen gives us a fresh take not only on the story, but on storytelling and dramatic style and structure – a work that is part musical, part performance piece, all of it fitting for our era of Hamilton-style historical drama. Directed beautifully by Lavina Jadhwani, Vietgone features original music and music direction by Gabriel Ruiz, who has gained acclaim in Chicago’s venturesome Teatro Vista’s Ensemble. It features great choreography by Tommy Rapley.

If you feel the story of the Vietnam War has been covered ad nauseum already, you will be immensely surprised and entertained by this take from a group of people who were most directly affected the fallout of the event – Vietnamese who were hurriedly and even chaotically evacuated in April 1975, as South Vietnam’s capital, Saigon, fell to the North Vietnamese forces.

In Vietgone, we meet a series of character “types” – the author himself (who introduces the play as “possibly true”); also his father; and a young woman who plans to thrive on her new found freedom; her opportunistic middle-aged mother, who hopes to find romance, and to avoid learning English; U.S. soldier who falls for a Vietnamese girl; even a racist biker who stands in for the legions of Americans who had trouble laying down enmity against their Asian enemies after decades of war against the North Vietnamese Communist regime.

One character, a South Vietnamese army pilot, desperately wants to return to his wife and two young children. But if he does, he will likely be punished as a war criminal by the victors from Hanoi. Nguyen forthrightly addresses such stories of individual suffering and the culture clashes that ensued for these sudden transplants whose families and way of life were abruptly torn asunder.

But Nguyen also conveys the joy that was discovered in contemporary American rhythm and blues and rock and funk and dance as these individuals found their way. From this grounding springs an entrancing musical experience. Lyrics to the songs are rapped clear as a bell, with some songs “nearly sung” quite delightfully. This entrancing musical performance overlay may belie the darker aspects of the deeply powerful story that it also conveys. But the form brings us into the work so we can receive that story.

Vietgone centers its tale on the initial phase of evacuation, 130,000 South Vietnamese who were transported to via Guam into the United States, landing at resettlement camps at four military bases: Fort Chaffee in Arkansas, Camp Pendleton in California, Fort Indiantown Gap in Pennsylvania, and Eglin Air Force Base in Florida. Nearly two million more people followed them in separate exoduses, settling at points around the globe under U.N. auspices. 

Along with telling the story of that first cohort, Qui Nguyen introduces us to numerous memorable characters, whose background and personalities stay with us following the show. To have established so many individuals so vividly and concretely is quite an impressive accomplishment - all to the credit of this sterling cast. Standouts are Aurora Adachi-Winter as Tong and Matthew C. Yee as Quang. 

Vietgone is highly recommended. It runs through September 23 at Writers Theatre. 

*Extended through September 29th

a“There’s no honor in self destruction.” An interesting line to ponder when thinking about what Sam Shepard’s Pulitzer Prize winner ‘Buried Child’ says about our current times. Sadly we lost Sam Shepard recently. Writers Theatre’s production of ‘Buried Child’ serves as a fitting homage. Director Kimberly Senior assembles a dream cast for her well-conceived revival.

Senior is a meticulous director. The attention to minor details of staging makes for an immersive experience. ‘Buried Child’ is a complicated play, reading it can be challenging. Senior’s version is clear. Her grasp of the script and the meaning of Sam Shepard’s words shines through. While it adds a little to the runtime of the show, two intermissions is a wise choice.

This production changes the focus somewhat. Shepard was known for male-driven plays and some critics argue his female characters are underdeveloped. Senior mines the script for a new interpretation; that ultimately the women are the ones who keep the play moving. Shannon Cochran plays Hallie, the matriarch. Her performance is riveting, she stalks the stage doling out anger and jokes. Also playing against type is Arti Ishak as Shelly. This character is ordinarily somewhat meek but here she’s a dominant figure that forces this family to its reckoning.

The male roles are notably cast. Mark L. Montgomery is nearly unrecognizable as Tilden. His portrayal of an emotionally stunted man-child is haunting. Timothy Edward Kane delivers a sort of ‘Texas Chainsaw Massacre’ vibe as the younger son Bradley. His wandering eye contact has an unsettling effect. Larry Yando becomes Dodge. Yando’s an old pro at playing a grumpy old man but the physicality of sickness and depression are palpable.

Shepard wrote this play in the 70s as an observation on the misery of rural American life. Once idyllic places got decimated by closed factories and failing farms. Unfortunately not much has changed for the better in these places, and for that this production seems timely as ever. Kimberly Senior’s production would make Sam Shepard proud. The atmospheric staging and guttural dialogue combined with powerhouse performances will surely leave a lasting impression. A thrilling version for our modern times.

Through June 17 at Writers Theatre. 325 Tudor Court, Glencoe IL. 847-242-6000

"Trevor the Musical" tells the tale of a beautiful young boy in the 1970's who is just discovering his love of choreography and dance. He is also lovesick for an older boy in his school during a time when same sex relationships were not as socially acceptable or acknowledged as the world at the time was much less gay friendly.

I predict that this play will have a very good effect on young people who view it and anyone who has ever felt put down or shamed by others for their own creativity or uniqueness.

Although I agree with some of the other critics that there was a slightly "after school special" feel to this production, there is nothing wrong with that. It moved where it needed to be moving and celebrated those who feel different than others because of who they are.

The young star of the show Eli Tokash (also played in split performances by and Graydon Peter Yosowitz) is delightful and really does a great job with all of his numbers both musically and in terms of dance and comedy movement. The music is well written, often fun and catchy, and also includes various Diana Ross hits. "Trevor" has all the ingredients to become a smash hit.

Because most of the cast is in their teens this show will definitely be produced in high schools and colleges for years to come which is a great thing especially given the current climate reviving negativity towards the LGBTQ community.

“Trevor” comes with a slew of entertaining performances, including Declan Desmond’s as “Pinky”, the object of Trevor’s boy crush. I thoroughly enjoyed the costumes and creative set design as well.

The only note I have for this cast of very talented young people is to avoid becoming robotic in their quest for perfection. The emergence of such shows like American Idol and "So You Think You Can Dance" have both encouraged young people more than ever to follow their dreams in the arts, however I feel that they have put so much pressure on young people to hit every note perfectly and to strike every pose with almost robotic precision in order to win First Prize that many of their performances now seem stiff and over analyzed and micromanaged by their directors. So much so, that they make the audience feel nervous because they as young performers seem nervous and afraid to mess up or even let their characters messy emotions show through the facade of artistic perfection because they are trying so hard to live up to this Broadway standard placed on even the very youngest performers of today. Another perfect example of this public and private pressure can be seen clearly on the popular reality show for young performers called "Dance Moms,"as they scream and yell at their own eight-year-old daughters that they are not dancing well enough.

Other than the slightly uptight feeling which I think will be worked out over the course of this run and as the book of this show is revised and edited and cut for Broadway, I highly recommend this inspiring production. Everyone left the theater in a great mood feeling that they had seen the world premiere of a play with something timely, special and energetic to say to the world. “Trevor” is a play which encourages adults and children alike to be true to themselves in every way - no matter what the other kids say, even under scary opposition from groups of mean and ignorant "haters" who do not understand what it is like to be different from the pack, whether a dreamer or a believer in Unicorns or the healing power of Diana Ross.

“Trevor the Musical” is being performed at Writers Theatre in Glencoe through its newly extended date of October 8th. For tickets and further show information visit www.writerstheatre.org. 

Following the lives of Charlotte and Jonny, The Mystery of Love and Sex cleverly explores a variety of subjects including sexual identity, race, political correctness and family undercurrents. Charlotte and Jonny have grown up together and have become the very best of friends. Charlotte is a white girl who had lived with her parents, her father Jewish and her mother converted, while Jonny, an African American had lived with his mother just next door. 

The story starts off with Charlotte and Jonny living together while attending college. They wonder if their longtime friendship can develop into something more. The two are stressed when Charlotte’s parents, Howard and Lucinda, come by for dinner unsure of what they might think of their living relationship and their possible future together. Howard, a  successful crime novelist accused of writing with racist and sexist overtones by Jonny ("Why are all black men able to dance? Why are most found victims women with no clothes on?"), is direct, concerned and, at times, a bit skeptical. “What is this? Like Bohemian?” He says referring to the couple’s table setting. It doesn’t help matters that Charlotte and Jonny are serving just salad and bread. But we quickly see how much Howard cares for both his daughter Charlotte and Jonny, who he considers his son, despite his oft coarse exterior. 

As the story progresses, Charlotte and Jonny show trepidation in pursuing a future together even questioning their own sexuality. Howard and Lucinda, who consider themselves liberal parents, just want their daughter to be happy. We are then taken on several plot twists and turns in both Howard and Lucinda’s marriage and the lives of Jonny and Charlotte that keep the story highly engaging.

Keenly directed by Marti Lyons and smartly written by Bathsheba Doran, The Mystery of Love and Sex provides four main characters that are each appealing in their own ways. The interactions between the four is fulfilling, as it is humorous, touching and true to life. Doran’s story is that of love, whether it be unconditional or the lengths taken to find it. It is a journey into life’s most sought after desire and a tribute to accepting those for who they are.  

"I have had the pleasure of following the impressive rising careers of playwright Bash Doran and Director Marti Lyons for the past few years and I am delighted to find a project that suited both their considerable talents so perfectly," says Artistic Director Michael Halberstam.

Hayley Burgess leads the way as Charlotte with a bold performance in her Writers Theatre debut. Charlotte has many layers that are revealed throughout the play and Burgess gently takes the audience by the hand into her character’s depth one step at a time. Best friend and confidant Jonny is well-played by Travis Turner who is also able to play up to the complexities in his role with much aplomb. Lia Mortensen is just fantastic as Lucinda, delivering her witty lines to perfection and getting several laughs in the way her character struggles to quit smoking. Cast in the role of Howard is Keith Kupferer. However, Kupferer had taken ill and was unavailable for the performance I had attended thrusting Mark David Kaplan into the role, who is simply remarkable. Kaplan steers his role with grit and finesse offering the clear predictability of Howard’s stereotype, but is also able to throw in a handful of surprising moments filled with a genuineness than can catch us off guard. Kaplan and Mortensen are terrific as Charlotte’s parents, bringing forth plenty of funny exchanges and throwing several well-timed darts at each other.

There is a lot to like in Doran’s The Mystery of Love and Sex from its tantalizing script to its well-executed performances. The play delivers a solid message in a uniquely crafty way that is entertaining from beginning to end. 

Recommended. 

The Mystery of Love and Sex is currently running at Writers Theatre (325 Tudor Court, Glenview) through July 2nd. For tickets and/or more show information click here. 

*This play contains frontal nudity.

We first meet Clea as she traipses into the great room of a sky-high Manhattan penthouse, enraptured by the “surreal” view. Looking on disdainfully are Charlie (Mark Montgomery), an actor who has been struggling to get cast lately, and his wing-man Lewis (La Shawn Banks).

In the world of theater, a gushing ingénue making a breathless entrance is something that has been seen before, to put it mildly. Charlie for one is not impressed. 

In short order, though, we sense there may be more to this young woman, and these men, than first appears. As it happens, the party is in the home of an actor-writer on the rise, and his older, wealthy patron. Charlie is there hoping to rub shoulders with him, and maybe get a role in his new production.

Clea (Deanna Myers blazes in the role) is on a similar mission – though at this point in her career she is less certain about how things will play out. She is also a font of inanity – “Food is, like, disgusting to me,” she avers, claiming never to eat. “Most things people put in their mouths, it is totally just like eating death. Someone proved that eating is killing people." 

Charlie and Lewis are agape at Clea. Charlie clearly finds her exaggerated pronouncements aversive, while Lewis nods and puts on about the phoniest show of interest imaginable - miming that attraction men sometimes feel despite (or perhaps because of) knowing better.  

Poured into snug-fitting couture and clearly master of her heels, Clea reads, accurately, the mocking tone in Charlie’s desultory conversation. When he asks her how the view can be “surreal,” sparks begin to fly in what turns out to be a harbinger of later romance.   

This is also the first inkling we have that Clea is more femme fatale than ingénue.  She vacillates from helpless to heated. In due course, she reveals a grab-bag of information about herself, and observations on life in general. Her mother is an alcoholic, so she doesn’t drink. People are just not "awake" to life.  

She has recently arrived from Ohio hoping to make her break in New York. She eventually asks for that vodka – just this one time – and becomes even more voluble. Clea reveals she has applied for a position on a television production team – and does a send-up of the woman who interviewed her, describing a “Nazi priestess” of talent bookings, by the name of Stella. As it turns out, Stella is Charlie’s wife - and fatefully, the unrequited love of Lewis.

Clea came there intent on making an impression. And oh she does in Meyers’s super-charged performance. In later scenes, after she has vanquished Lewis, she moves on to seduce Charlie, ultimately triggering his downfall by overstaying a tryst - so the two get caught by Stella.

Charlie eventually ends up on the street, having cast aside his stable life with Stella. (The story line draws on Waugh's of Human Bondage, according to playwright Therese Rebeck.)

The couple was about to adopt a child. Perhaps the prospect of parenthood was too great a strain on Charlie. Fear of parenthood is a classic romance killer, but under Kimberly Seniors direction we are witness to Charlie's action, but not his motivation. Stella also is a bit of a caricature, slipping into Spanish when her blood gets boiling.  Lewis, meanwhile, has played this marriage's third wheel from the opening scene, defending Stella against critiques. The trio has a reasonable chemistry in scenes, but Stella seems overplayed, and Lewis underplayed when they are alone together. 

As to Clea: Viper? Seductress? Ingénue? Trollop? Those old-fashioned words don’t quite apply, as Clea owns her sexuality, and is aware of where she is heading. She seems at once incisive, and empty-headed.

“How can you know so much and so little at the same time?” as Charlie asks.

Waugh’s classic, Of Human Bondage, was filmed three times. And The Scene was also made into a movie - Seducing Charlie Barker. 

In The Scene, the eventual affair with Clea leads to Charlie’s downfall, and his wife Stella’s departure, among other things. While the performance by Myers is captivating, and the chemistry between Stella (Charin Alvarez), Lewis and Charlie is convincing, I struggled to find empathy with anyone other than Clea – a rather villainous protagonist.

The glass and steel set is striking, and works really well through all the scenes. The furnishings were dead on, very Blue Dot Catalog. Likewise the costumes, down to the men's shoes.  Brian Sidney Bembridge did sets;  Nan Zabriskie costume; Sarah Hughey, lighting; Richard Woodbury, original music and sound design; and Scott Dickens handled props. 

Running through April 2 at the Writers Theatre in Glencoe, Illinois, The Scene comes recommended, especially to see Deanna Myers.

In an interview in the program, playwright Eugene Lee says that East Texas Hot Links is like a combination of an August Wilson play and the Twilight Zone. But fantasy was a common feature of Wilson’s plays. The new production of Lee’s 1991 play at Writers Theatre in Glencoe, which is slated to run through January, is more like watching Wilson’s Two Trains Running transform into John Carpenter’s Halloween. Under the direction of Chicago theatre treasure Ron OJ Parson, who directed the same play in 1995 and a revival in 1998, a cast of eight delves into the horror lurking just below the surface normalcy of African-American life in Jim Crow Texas. It’s not just the specter of physical violence which haunts these characters, it’s also the psychological effect of living in a society built on terrorizing them.

In 1955 in the rural vicinity of Houston, Charlesetta Simpkins (Tyla Abercrombie) runs a bar she inherited from her father. She has a strict policy of only serving drink and prepackaged food—the men who are her regulars delight in razzing her and each other, and if she cooked better than their wives, they’d likely never leave, but ridicule her all the same. Hanging around as usual is the soft-hearted local landlord, Columbus (Alfred H. Wilson), his brooding much younger brother-in-law, XL (Namir Smallwood), and XL’s boisterous frenemy, Roy Moore (Kelvin Roston, Jr.), who also has a crush on Charlesetta. The big news is that the local plutocrat, Prescott Ebert, is building a highway to Dallas. Columbus has been screwed by the use of eminent domain, but XL has worked for Ebert as a middle manager several times, and he sneeringly declares that he’ll hold out for another foreman job instead of wasting himself on manual labor.

This attitude does not exactly make him popular, particularly as Prescott Ebert is, by reputation, a Klan leader and a serial killer of black people. XL dismisses this as irrelevant; he’s always been paid on time, and that’s what matters. In fact, he’s hooked up Delmus Green (Luce Metrius), a kid with big dreams, with Ebert for some secret work that will be done late tonight. That explains why Delmus is hanging around, attempting to reach Ebert by phone. He’s unsuccessful for the moment, and the other patrons’ conversation meanders over a wide range of subjects. However, those conversations have a way of taking a strange turn due to the presence of Adolph (Willie B.), an elderly blind man whom the others call “Professor” due to his half semester of college education and ability to improvise free-verse. Having taught himself the vampiric psychological and sociological theories that were all the rage in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, Adolph links everything to parasitism, death, decay, and consumption in both senses of the word. He’s more fun to have around than you might think.

Rounding out the cast are Buckshot (Antoine Pierre Whitfield), a man who claims to have been much-improved since he was sent to prison for trying to kill a man who called him “Titty-baby,” and Uncle Boochie (A.C. Smith), a mystical gambler who can foretell death. When they all put their heads together they come to the conclusion that there is something extremely wrong with whatever it is XL has offered Delmus to Ebert for. All the actors are fascinating, and Lee’s dense script provides all of them with memorable dialogue, but Smallwood’s XL stands out for the intensity of his greed and fear, and the effort he puts into his compartmentalization. Though deeply loathsome, the character is impossible to look away from. The world these characters inhabit, with scenic design by Jack Magaw, costumes by Christine Pascual, and lights by Kathy A. Perkins, feels full, yet isolated, and a great deal of credit for that has to go to sound designer Joshua Horvath. The sound of animals and wind in the surrounding woods is vaguely unsettling, and reinforces how much of a refuge this building is, as well as its vulnerability. Long before the characters realize their immediate danger, we know there’s something evil out there.

Adolph proclaims that we feed on those who hate us. But in the food chain of east Texas, it’s all too clear to the African-American characters how far down they are. Even literal eating is something that has become psychologically poisonous—Roy defensively announces at one point that he only eats the front feet of a pig. Lee has said that he sees the play as hopeful because of the context that it takes place just a few months before the Civil Rights movement revived, and because the characters unite in an effort to save Delmus. Upon reflection, that’s true, but the hair-raising ending, along with the expertly crafted rising tension which proceeded it, are more likely to dominate the audience’s reaction immediately after viewing than the more implicit themes of awakening to collective action and survival. It is nice, though, that, upon digestion, the audience finds something nourishing in East Texas Hot Links other than human misery. Adolph says we feed on those who love us, as well.

East Texas Hot Links will play in The Gillian Theatre at Writers Theatre, 325 Tudor Court, Glencoe, through January 22, 2017. Running time is ninety minutes with no intermission. Parking is available, and the theatre is within walking distance of the Metra. Audience members who post a Facebook or Twitter photos of themselves with the tags @WritersTheatre and #EastTexasHotLinks will receive $5 cash if ticket was bought in advance. Tickets are $35-80. Showtimes are Tuesdays-Fridays at 7:30 pm, Saturdays at 3:00 pm and 7:30 pm, and Sundays at 2:00 pm and 6:00 pm, with some exceptions. To order, call 847-242-6000 or visit writerstheatre.org. The actors eat peanuts onstage during this show.

Imagine a 70s-era Woody Allen movie set to music. That's basically "Company" by Stephen Sondheim. It premiered in a time when many Broadway musicals were just collections of songs loosely connected by a simple plot. In 1970, Sondheim's "Company" challenged that formula by presenting a musical that was more book than music. The story is even less clear than a classic Broadway show. It's the story of Bobby, a bachelor living in New York City with mixed-up ideas about marriage. 

Though Bobby (Thom Miller) is the main character, "Company" is about the women in his life. Writers Theatre director William Brown has assembled a stellar cast of Chicago actresses. Each scene is a vignette in which Bobby learns about his friends' marriages. Blair Robertson as uptight Jenny is charmingly neurotic. Tiffany Scott playing urban Southern bell, Susan, and with costumes by Rachel Anne Healy, looks like a young Cybil Shepard. With distinct performances from the female ensemble, it's hard to pick out a favorite scene from the show, however Allison Hendrix singing "Getting Married Today" is a highlight. For Sondheim groupies, this is one of the show's most popular numbers but also its most challenging with a unique staccato rhyming scheme. Hendrix pulls it off, and makes the comedy relatable. Jess Godwin as April, is the show's last stop. Her portrayal of an awkward bachelorette is sure to make everyone laugh. 

"Company" concludes on the bittersweet song "Being Alive" and while Thom Miller's performance as Bobby is a little uneven throughout, he brings a lot to the cathartic final number. In one song, the musical goes from odd-ball romantic comedy to a philosophical question about the nature of long term love.

Writers Theatre in Glencoe is rightfully proud of their new space designed by Jeanne Gang. "Company" is presented as part of their Inaugural Season. The show, like the space is sleek, stylish and sexy. William Brown's production will likely be remembered as a definitive presentation of this not-often produced Sondheim classic. With more space, it’s nice to see a show at Writers with some breathing room. 

Through July 31st at Writers Theatre. 325 Tudor Court, Glencoe. 847-242-6011.