Displaying items by tag: Aaron Reese Boseman

America’s greatest sin is its obsession with race and skin color. From the first toll of the Liberty Bell, the nation has measured who is free and who is owned by the color of their skin. In Marcus Gardley’s The House That Will Not Stand, now given a rich and haunting revival by Invictus Theatre Company, that obsession becomes both a weapon and a wound. Gardley resurrects the forgotten world of Creole New Orleans—where wealth, whiteness, and womanhood are tangled together in knots—and transforms it into something exquisite, unsettling, and deeply human.

This production marks Invictus’s first offering since their remarkable Angels in America, and it stands as an equally compelling successor. Guided by the skillful direction of Aaron Reese Boseman, The House That Will Not Stand unfolds as both a gothic ghost story and a poignant parable about the boundaries of freedom in 1813 New Orleans—a city poised between the fading opulence of French colonialism and the strict racial divisions of the emerging American regime.

Britt Edwards commands the stage as Beartrice Albans, a proud free woman of color who has built her wealth and status through the plaçage system, a quasi-legal arrangement allowing Creole women to become the common-law wives of white men. With her lover, Lazare (played by the excellent Ron Quade), freshly dead and his body still on display in the parlor, Beartrice fights to protect her three daughters and her legacy as her world begins to crumble.

Those daughters—each beautifully rendered—embody the next generation’s struggle for identity. Kaylah Marie Crosby’s Agnès glows with youthful yearning, dreaming of love as a path to freedom. Sierra Coachman’s Maude Lynn retreats into rigid piety, while Aysia Slade’s Odette exudes charm and sharp wit, a realist surviving through grace and guile. Together, they capture Gardley’s kaleidoscope of womanhood—three shades of resistance against their mother’s rigid control.

Jimiece Gilbert’s Marie Josephine, the proverbial “crazy aunt in the attic,” turns her confinement into revelation. Her mad visions bridge the world of the living and the dead, anchoring Boseman’s ghostly approach to the story. Her voice, equal parts anguish and prophecy, reminds us that this is not just family melodrama—it’s historical haunting. Sandra Adjoumani brings a sly, spectral energy as La Veuve, the perpetual widow.

Meanwhile, Shenise Brown’s Makeda, the enslaved servant, gives the play its spiritual gravity. Her connection to African ancestry and unseen forces makes her both witness and conscience. Brown’s performance glows quietly, her stillness and humor cutting through Beartrice’s bluster with earthy wisdom.

Boseman’s direction leans into Gardley’s gothic sensibility. He treats the house as a living ghost, filled with whispers, candlelight, and secrets too heavy to contain. Scenic designer Kevin Rolfs has crafted a stunning 1800s New Orleans mansion divided into multiple playing areas: the elegant sitting room, the cool upstairs bedroom, the claustrophobic attic of Marie Josephine, and even the alcove where Lazare’s body lies in state. Levi Wilkins’s lighting balances warmth and eeriness, evoking both haunted house and holy shrine, while Terri Devine’s costumes—from black brocade mourning dresses to shimmering African prints and head wraps—are, as the name suggests, simply divine.

Still, not every element lands perfectly. While Edwards delivers Beartrice’s fiery pride with conviction, she occasionally overplays the register—spending much of the evening at full volume. Some lines blur in the shouting, and Gardley’s intricate text, already rich with historical and cultural nuance, sometimes gets lost. A few accents also stray, making the language harder to follow.

Gardley’s play doesn’t just dramatize America’s obsession with race—it excavates it. The story unfolds in the very region where mixed-race identities were codified into law, a world not far removed from the history of Pope Leo XIII’s own Creole ancestry. Gardley asks what happens when power, beauty, and belonging are measured by the shade of one’s skin—and Invictus answers with a production that is both eerie and elegant, steeped in laughter and lament.

In The House That Will Not Stand, ghosts are not just memories; they are the architecture of a nation still learning how to live with its past.

Highly Recommended
When: Through December 14
Where:  Invictus Theatre @ Windy City Playhouse, 3014 W Irving Park Rd, Chicago
Tickets: $25 - $38
Info: Invictustheatreco.com

Invictus Theatre’s smashingly good Chicago production of Susan-Lori Parks’ “Topdog/Underdog” brings us a dark comedy that is both gripping and layered. This Tony winner for its current Broadway revival incorporates all the qualities of a well-written play, steadily unfolding details of the brothers who share a derelict apartment—the plaster is falling, the sink is broken, the working bathroom is down the hall—with exposition artfully buried in the dialog.

Under the direction of Aaron Reese Boseman, the audience is drawn in the course of the play to learn these two black brothers were separated some 20 years ago from their parents, who named them as a macabre joke, then walked out when Booth was just 11 and Lincoln 16.

The two have made their way in the world by hustling for money. Booth (DeMorris Burrows) shoplifts and Lincoln (Mikha’el Amin) is a master at three-card monty, where he collects winnings from marks. Younger brother Booth longs to capture Lincoln’s mastery in cards, and when we first meet him alone in his apartment, he is practicing and practicing, struggling to gain his older brother’s finesse.

When Lincoln arrives, though, we learn he has given up cards, and is now working in an arcade, in white face, dressed as Lincoln: tophat, beard, frock coat and vest. Lincoln comes fresh from his work, where customers pay to shoot blank bullets at him, after which he dutifully dies. How’s that for a premise?

Lincoln gives Booth a hard time. "Bathroom's down the hall," Booth tells Lincoln, who needles his brother. "You're living in the third world, Booth."  When Booth asks Lincoln to teach him how to succeed at three-card monty, Lincoln retorts, "I don't touch the cards," and refuses to teach him. Booth complains, "Here I am trying to make a living, and you're standing in my way." We immediately feel that this argument, and Booth's supplicant role, has played out many times. 

Yet Lincoln also helps Booth, dispensing his earnings, yet Booth takes advantage of him, taking all but $13, then asking for five bucks back. What Booth really seeks is the recreation of the family of his childhood, when the two lived with their parents, as carefree children, with a treehouse, running a lemonade stand, playing practical jokes on their dad, and chowing down on their mother’s home cooking. Booth rearranges the furniture, to simulate the table around which they would gather during their upbringing. But Lincoln refuses this sentiment, putting it all back the way it has been when he arrived. 

Into the mix are added intriguing entries: Booth tells his brother of witnessing his parents preparing to leave, a traumatic experience. He secretly retains a stocking filled with a parting gift, which he believes is money, but it is never opened during the play. Booth has a girlfriend, Grace, whom he plans to marry—yet she never appears, and when he returns from visiting her, Lincoln asks Booth for a blow-by-blow of the tryst. His recount sounds unconvincingly made-up, but the inebriated Lincoln only vaguely challenges Booth on this, then passes out.These components point to yearnings Booth holds, which Lincoln only partially shares. 

Eventually, there is resolution of the action, the relationship, everything, that is both satisfying and disturbing. The actors here put everything on the boards; it's hard to imagine them recovering and doing this again, nightly. In his protrayal of Booth, Burrows is exacting, a range from humorous clowning, to high energy plaintive soliloquoy, while Mikha’el Amin's Lincoln gives a more restrained but emotionally evocative performance. This nuanced portrait of a brotherly relationship rings remarkably true. Anyone with a brother, or who knows brothers, will recognize the mix of adulation and aspiration in the younger sibling, and the kindly nurturance and meanness in the older one.

Driven from its tiny 35-seat quarters by a fire, Invictus has landed in the northside site renowned for its big sets and large enough to accommodate some riveting immersive theater. WIth existing lighting, sound, and set capability, this space allows for production values supporting in equal measure to Invictus' tradition of concentrating on the fullest expression of the script. Scenic design by Kevin Rolfs, props by Barbie Brown, costumes by Marquecia Jordan or on the mark. The touches of music by sound designer Petter Wahlback set mood at keep dramatic points, and lighting by Brandon Wardell and Josiah Croegaert illuminate and transition fully in sync with the action.

“Topdog/Underdog” carries all the ingredients of the formula for a hot production: an eminently incredible play, in its Chicago revival at the capacious and versatile Windy City Playhouse, the new digs for one of Chicago’s top acting troupes, Invictus. Definitely a must-see on all counts, "Topdog/Underdog" runs through March 31 at Windy City Playhouse, 3014 W. Irving Park Road in Chicago.

“Once On This Island” is receiving a spirited and lively revival by Pulse Theatre at the once venerable ETA Creative Arts Foundation, now a rental space on the Southside of Chicago.

Set in the French Antilles, namely Haiti, this vibrant production rivals any Broadway In Chicago production. It is a large production with a cast of 25, including young children. The story follows the star-crossed love between Ti Moune, (the captivating Alexandria Simone Irby) a young peasant girl with a yearning for something more than her humble existence would allow and Daniel Beauxhomme (the gifted David Taylor) the son of the lighter skinned grand hommes who are rich and comfortable. Their romance is challenged by class and racial prejudices, quite a lot for a fairytale, luckily the gods are there to guide them. The gods, inspired by Haitian Vodou are Asaka (Marquetta Jackson) mother of the earth, Agwe (Kendall Devin Bell) God of Water, Erzulie (Paige Rene Brown) Goddess of Love and Papa Ge (Isis Elizabeth) the Demon of Death.

These four gods, each with their unique domains and influences, play a significant role in shaping the narrative of “Once on This Island” They test the characters faith, challenge their choices, and ultimately determine their fates.

Director Aaron Reese Boseman and Associate Director and Choreographer Florence Walker-Harris masterfully weaves dance and movement into the narrative, creating an immersive and captivating atmosphere. The audience is swept away by the energetic calypso rhythms, ecstatic ritual dances and even a jazzy French quadrille. All are seamlessly integrated into the storytelling.

The staging is further enhanced by the extraordinary work of scenic designer Russell Hogenson’s interpretation of the Palace of Sans-Souci in Haiti. Although I would have liked to see an actual gate separating the peasants from the leisure class, the artistry of the set cannot be denied. The same can be said for the lighting design by Levi Wilkins. The light show was unbelievable. The storm scene was so realistic. My issue is when the actors are performing in the voms, they must be lit. There are beautiful tableaus happening in the voms, unfortunately they are happening in darkness. Costume designer Terri Devine’s creations were otherworldly. They brought a tropical wonderland to life. I especially loved the dancers with magical lit umbrellas indicating a rainstorm.  All these elements blended beautifully together to tell this story.

The music of “Once on the Island” is a delightful fusion of Broadway showtunes and Caribbean styles. The melodies are catchy and memorable, the lyrics witty and insightful. Pulse’s three-person band headed by Elliott Bell creates the idea of a much larger band. Every song is a production number. There are times when the band overpowers the singers especially in the song “Some Girls” sung By Daniel. Percussion isn’t needed. David Taylor, who has a beautiful voice, is competing with the arrangement.

The talented ensemble cast delivers powerful performances, each bringing their unique energy to the stage. Liane Williams as Mama Euralie, Keenen Wilson as Ton Ton Julian and Paige Rene Brown as Erzulie was quite impressive in a phenomenally talented cast.

“Once on This Island” is more than just a musical; it’s an enchanting tapestry weaving together love, loss and the enduring power of storytelling. It reminds us of our lives are shaped by the stories we tell ourselves and the stories we share with others. Pulse Theater’s “Once on This Island” transports their audience not only to a distant tropical island but to the depths of their own heart.

This production should really have a much longer run. It is a excellent production and many more people should be seeing it. Why such a short run is beyond me.

Highly Recommended

When: Through Nov. 19   Sat 3:30 and 8 pm Sun 3:30 pm

Where: eta Creative Ars Foundation 7558 South Chicago Avenue

Tickets: $45 – $35 seniors / $25 Students and children under 18

“Thank you very kindly, my friends. As I listened to Ralph Abernathy and his eloquent and generous introduction and then thought about myself, I wondered who he was talking about.”

Opening to the “I’ve Been to The Mountaintop” sermon by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

Katori Hall’s deceptively simple play “The Mountaintop” imagines who he was talking about.

"The Mountaintop" first opened in London's West End in 2009, receiving the prestigious Olivier Best New Play Award. It is now receiving a spectacular mounting by Invictus Theatre Company under the watchful direction of Aaron Reese Boseman.

The premise is simple, In Memphis to support the striking sanitation workers, Martin Luther King Jr. (Mikhá el Amin) has returned to his room at the Lorraine Motel after delivering his “I’ve Been to The Mountaintop” speech. He has sent Ralph Abernathy to the store for Pall Mall cigarettes. While waiting for his cigarettes, he works on a new speech “Why America is Going to Hell”. Frustrated, he places a telephone call to the front desk asking for room service to bring him a cup of coffee. When Camae (Ny’ ajai Ellison) knocks on the door with coffee, cigarettes, whiskey, body and personality, the play kicks into its next gear. At this time in the civil rights struggle, King was known for his womanizing, the FBI had him under surveillance, and he was fatigued and full of self-doubt. Is it possible Camae was sent to entrap King?

If only it were that simple.

The chemistry between King and Camae is palpable, thanks to Hall's clever writing and Boseman's pas de deux directing technique.

Amin was born to play the role of Martin Luther King, Jr.  Not only is there a slight resemblance to King, he also speaks and delivers words evoking how the real-life King spoke. It is obvious Amin studied King to wonderful results. Amin is too fine an actor to resort to mimicry. There are times we see a near-broken man, so haunted by death threats that every peal of thunder outside the motel causes a panic attack. We see a vanity in King that seems honest.  Amin’s depiction of King is strongest when he expresses his fears, anxieties, and desires. One of Amin’s most powerful scenes as King features him on a telephone call. It's heart wrenching to watch him plead and rationalize. It’s a garden of Gethsemane moment. To say anymore would spoil the beauty.

Ellison is spot on casting for the role of Camae. When she says “Preacher Kang” she tells us a world of what we need to know about Camae. Ellison’s Camae is eloquent but mouthy, sensitive yet crude, blatantly sexual yet resistive to King's urgings, skeptical about nonviolence and instead sympathetic to the Black Power ideology of Malcolm X. Ellison’s Camae is every bit a match for Amin’s King. She provides a comedic foil to Amin’s serious King. During the night, they challenge each other, They talk about the future; they talk about the past; they talk about politics, and she is just too many wonderful things. Ellison’s most impactful acting comes at a serious moment involving Camae's background story. Her story is powerful and one that will linger in the memory.

Scenic Designer Kevin Rolfs has created an accurate recreation of room 306 of the Lorraine Motel down to the original 1960’s color scheme. Liz Cooper’s Lighting Design worked well with Warren Levon’s thunder and ambient rain sounds that runs throughout the production. Thunder and lightning serve as punctuation for important lines of dialog.

The projection and special effects designer DJ Douglass is masterful in his execution. Together this design team changes a simple hotel room into something magnificent.

Highly Recommended —The Mountaintop reminds us that even our icons are human. We are all kings and King is all of us. "This baton is no longer the burden my image can bear," he says. "For you are the climbers, the new carriers of the cross. I beg you, implore you, don't give in and toss it off."

Side note:  

This is just another example of the excellence coming from Invictus Theatre Company. They constantly exceed their reach. I have to remind myself this is a storefront theatre.    

Performed at Reginald Vaughn Theatre through March 19th. For tickets and/or more show info, click here.