Early in the first act I whispered to my companion and said “I love this!” Extremely well written by Joshua Hartman with stellar performances directed by Jeremy Wechsler, “Prayer for the French Republic” (a Northlight Theatre Theatre Wit co-production) attempts to reveal the soul-searching and angst among a Jewish family in Paris amid the recent rise in antisemitism in their country.

After generations of security in the comfort of acceptance by their countrymen, the Salomon family encounters violent attacks by newly emergent antisemitic factions in France. How can this be happening?

In three acts we see the sweep of history across five generations of Salomons, who manufacture and sell pianos.
The opening scene is in a Paris apartment in 2016, where Marcelle Salomon (Janet Ulrich Brooks is sensational) welcomes a newly arrived American cousin, Molly (Maya Lou Hlava is perfect, brimming with Francophile excitement). We are given to understand their conversation, and the entire play, is all in French—though delivered in English.

Raised as a secular Jew and not very observant, Molly is something of a renegade. “My parents didn’t want me to come, because of the, you know, terrorism.” Despite her fluency, Molly is largely ignorant of French culture, but it’s love at first sight, expressed largely by her preternatural fixation on croissants. A little cringeworthy, maybe, but Hlava perfectly captures the tone of a good hearted American in Paris. I've been that way. 

After Marcelle delivers a comical machine-gun paced recitation of the family tree outlining their familial connection—one that has Molly nodding but bewildered—Marcelle goes on to explain that her husband, Charles Bertharnou (Rom Barkhorder) is a Sephardic Jew, his family having emigrated from North Africa as France withdrew from its colonies in the 1960s. And the added horror that Nazis did away with 25 percent of the Jewish population during the war. 

Larence Grimm as Patrick Salomon in "Prayer for the French Republic."

“Most Jews in France are Sephardic,” explains Marcelle. “Why is that,” asks Molly in her abject ignorance. Marcelle's brother, Patrick (Larence Grimm), appears periodically as aloof narrator, and in the family drama as well. He has shed his Judaic heritage even as his nephew Daniel leads his family to renew their embrace of it. 

The action is interrupted with tragedy. Marcelle’s husband returns with their son Daniel (Max Stewart in a magnetic performance), bloodied by an attack on the street. Suddenly, Molly, the secular Jew, is confronted with a violent anti-semitism that she has not experienced before. In the course of the play, she will be adjacent to the profound impact this has on the Salomon family—her character something of a device, the naive observer, for the script to examine these challenging issues.

Playwright Hartman then jumps through time artfully, with a vignette of 1944 as an earlier generation of Salomons weathers the Vichy government’s persecution of Jews under Hitler’s dominion. Adolphe and Irma Salomon (Torrey Hanson and Kathy Scambiaterra) are the perfect odd couple, whose sons Lucien (Alex Weisman) and Young Pierre (Nathan Becker) have fled without warning. Adolphe and Irma themselves are spared by a sympathetic policeman, and they suffer the war physically unscathed, selling pianos now to German Nazis, though beset by angst over the welfare of their sons.

Rae Gray as Elodie and Janet Ulrich Brooks as her mother Marcelle.

Then we’re back to 2017, where Rae Gray turns in a compelling performance as Elodie, Daniel’s manic depressive sister—a familiar and haunting presence in the Paris apartment, she sleeps until noon and shrugs off her mother’s hectoring diatribes urging her to get a life. In one manic moment, Gray launches into a monologue always nearing but almost never quite reaching its concluding "My point is" that rivals the showstoppers familiar at the Steppenwolf stage. Accoloades are due the playwright, and Gray, for pulling this off so very, very well. 

Meanwhile the family has been ruminating on the cloud of antisemitic fervor sweeping across their homeland. Charles weighs emigrating, while Daniel and Molly have other things on their minds: they have fallen in love.

All this comes to resolution in Act 3, where the promise of the first two acts is delivered upon, unsatisfyingly in my view, but it pleased the audience, which rose to its feet as the curtain dropped.

What’s not to like? The set for an upscale Parisian apartment didn’t measure up, nor the language and demeanor. to my mind. did not evoke the refinement one might expect - much more Manhattan than Paris. And the storyline unravels at the end as the script devolves into more preachy and polemic than the thinking and convincing leading up to the final act.

Strings were tied up perhaps too neatly in a packaged ending. Daniel might have made a different choice than what seems to have been foreordained by the playwright. And about the piano: it seemed out of tune. And would the fifth generation owners of a piano manufacturer be reluctant to ship an instrument due to weight? I think not.

Nevertheless, this show is recommended for the pure joy of excellent performances, and the intellectual and emotional processes that lead to the resolution, unsatisfying as it might have been for me. “Prayer for the French Republic, co-produced by Northlight Theatre and Chicago’s Theater Wit, runs through May 18 at Northlight Theatre in Skokie, IL.

*This review is also featured on https://www.theatreinchicago.com/!

Brian Friel’s “Translations,” now playing at Writers Theatre in Glencoe, IL, shows off the renowned Irish playwright’s signature skill in creating a stage full of memorable characters, 10 in this case, each with depth sufficient to fuel their dramatic paths.

“Translations” as Friel tells us, “has to do with language and only language.” Though written and played almost entirely in English, the Irish speak with brogues to “represent” that they are actually speaking in Irish; the British speak in a more formal King’s English. On stage, under the accomplished direction of Braden Abraham and dialect coach Eva Breneman, it becomes clear that Irish is being spoken, and when the few English speakers appear, that the two groups do not understand each other.

Friel treats us to a compelling story line—a love triangle—against a backdrop of an overwhelming British culture, bulldozing its way across the neighboring emerald isle. Set in 1833 in the mythical town of Baile Beag (Anglicized as “Ballybeg”), the action takes place in a “hedge school,” a form of resistance to this British cultural hegemony.

Hedge schools were illegal underground tutoring centers where the Irish adults would go to study ancient Greek and Roman classics, translating them and discussing them in their native Irish tongue.

Indeed, the play is very much about translated language. At the hedge school, we hear Hugh (Kevin Gudahl), a teacher at the hedge school and student Jimmy Jack (Jonathan Weir) reading Homer and Virgil and discussing comparative renderings in Irish. The only English word Jimmy Jack has bothered to learn is “bosom.”

English military cartographers have arrived in Baile Beag to map out the area, and set about developing Anglicized versions of the Irish names for the notable geographic features, rivers, valleys, streams, hills, etc. One character, Owen (Casey Hoekstra) who was born in Baile Beag but left years ago, has returned on retainer to the British as a translator whenever the British want to make themselves understood, or to hear from the locals. Owen also helps Lieutenant Yolland (Erik Hellman), known as “George” for most of the play, in the Anglicizing process.

In one incisive scene Owen explains to George the etymology of a place name for a crossroads: 

“We call that crossroads Tobair Vree. And why do we call it Tobair Vree? I’ll tell you why. Tobair means ‘a well.’ But what does Vree mean? It’s a corruption of Brian—an erosion of Tobair Bhriain. Because a hundred-and-fifty years ago there used to be a well there, not at the crossroads, mind you—that would be too simple—but in a field close to the crossroads. And an old man called Brian, whose face was disfigured by an enormous growth, got it into his head that the water in that well was blessed; and every day for seven months he went there and bathed his face in it. But the growth didn’t go away; and one morning Brian was found drowned in that well . And ever since that crossroads is known as Tobair Vree—even though that well has long since dried up.”

With the weightiness of its backstory, though, “Translations” is primarily entertaining and very funny. “Honest to God,” says one of the hedge school students, Maire (Julia Rowley), “some people aren’t happy unless they are miserable.” The characters are witty, and concerned with the life at hand, not the downside of British dominance.

In the course of the play, our British cartographer, George, falls for Maire, but neither can understand each other at first. We watch them learning bits of each other's languages. This relationship is also complicated by the presence of another hedge school teacher, Manus (Andrew Mueller), who expects Maire to marry him.

The scenes in which George expresses his ardor for Maire in language unintelligible to her are priceless. Over several meetings, they gradually learn some of each other’s language. It’s also notable that Maire abandons the hedge schoo, seeing her future in speaking English and emigrating to England. For Maire, George is her ticket to another life. George, on the other hand, has fallen for Ireland, and sees his future there, with Maire. Neither understands the other's motivation.

At one point, we hear Owen translating an address by Captain Landry (Gregory Linington) to the gathered hedge school students. Since Owen’s “Irish” translation is rendered in English by the playwright’s design, we see a complete disconnect between what Captain Landry states, and the way Owen delivers to the students.
Ultimately there are clashes borne of the magisterial power of the English over the Irish, and this forms a fiery underlay to the human drama playing out.

Set by Andrew Boyce and costumes by James Pytal are excellent. Kudos to dramaturg Bobby Kennedy for his work in identifying this lesser known Friel script. (The playwright’s best known work is probably “Dancing at Lughnasa,” brought to film with Meryl Streep in 1998.) A shout-out for the work of casting director Katie Galetti, CSA, who cast a wide net for the talent on stage. Performances by Andrew Mueller as Manus and Casey Hoekstra as Owen (the two are brothers) are particularly noteworthy, as was Julia Rowley as Sarah, a student with a speech impediment. I have to say I loved watching the angry student Bridget (Chloe Baldwin).

“Translations runs through May 4, 2025 at Writers Theater in Glenco, and comes highly recommended.

Walking into the Harris Theater for the “Trial of Themistocles,” I was expecting something translated from ancient Greek, togas, masks, maybe a chorus, and a scholarly script that would take some work to wade through.

Instead I found the latest installment of a delightful Trials Series produced since 2013 by the Chicago-based National Hellenic Museum on Halsted St. This program is part of the museum’s mission to advance awareness of the foundational contributions Greece has made to world civilization, in architecture, philosophy, mathematics, and—particularly timely—democracy. The Museum’s “Trial” series is actually mock-trials of historic Greek figures conducted by actual Chicago judges and argued by prominent local barristers. The annual event was qualified by the Illinois Attorney Registration & Disciplinary Commission (IARDC) for continuing legal education (CLE) credit. Attorneys attending the event can register for CLE credit on site.

Though scripted in a somewhat light-hearted tone, the “Trial of Themistocles” evokes weighty matters—touchstone societal issues that underpin our mode of government, and our means to maintain a civil society. It was reassuring, even moving, to be among those hundreds in the audience interested in rational thought and with a cosmopolitan, worldly view of history. While we extol the Renaissance and the Age of Enlightenment that followed, these periods were essentially a rediscovery of the wisdom of Greece.

Themistocles was an Athenian citizen, the city where trial by jury originated. He was the military chief who planned Athens’ creation of a large fleet of warships, multi-oared triremes, and led them to victory against the mighty Persian empire at the naval battle of Salamis. As a result, Themistocles’ star rose and he was elected Archon of Athens, the head of the city-state. He was a peoples’ candidate, with more common roots in his family tree, but was not welcomed by the aristocracy.

After he left office, history tells us that political rivals besmirched Themistocles’ reputation, accusing him of collusion with the Persians while leading Athens—even though he had defeated the Persons for Athens’ benefit. His enemies were animated to take him down, and Themistocles was ostracized—another Athenian invention —where he was voted out of town. Themistocles then left for an administrative post in Persia. The Athenians summoned him back to be tried for treason, but in real life he died before the trial took place.

Katerina Alexopoulos (U.S. Department of Homeland Security) questions Themistocles, played by Jonathan Shaboo, as the judges, jury and other attorneys look on in the National Hellenic Museum's Trial of Themistocles

In the “Trial of Themistocles,” hosted by former TV news anchor Andrea Darlas, only two professional actors were on stage: in the roles of Athenian politician and naval leader Themistocles (who died in 460 B.C.E.) played by Jonathan Shaboo; and the witness for the prosecution, Arsenia, played by comedian Megan Goldish. In her day job, she happens to be the Honorable Megan Goldish, a Cook County Circuit Court Judge.

All this was presided over by a panel of real-life area judges, and with a 12-person jury of scholars, lawyers and media personalities from NBC, Axios, WVON, and including Georgia Tasiopoulou, Consul General at the Greek Consulate in Chicago. Though the Trial series is a one-night-only performance, it was filmed by WTTW for later broadcast. The 2016 broadcast of the “Trial of Antigone” won an Emmy for the local National Public Television affiliate.

Our streaming world is filled with police procedurals and legal shows with actors playing lawyers. In the “Trial of Themistocles,” we got a chance to see how the real deal compares with actors, and in their opening arguments, cross examination, and summations delivered by actual lawyers, it turns out they’re as good as the actors imitating them, maybe even better. In the “Trial of Themistocles,” they acquitted themselves very well, as did the judges.

Leading the defense were Patrick M. Collins, a partner at King & Spaulding law firm; Tinos Diamantatos, a seasoned Katerina Alexopoulos, Assistant Chief Counsel for the U.S. Department of Homeland Security. And for the prosecution, Sarah King, president of the Women’s Bar Association of Illinois; and Patrick Salvi II, managing partner of Chicago law firm Salvi, Schostok & Pritchard. For the record, I felt Diamantos gave the best oratorical delivery.

All four judges found Themistocles not guilty, including Justice Joy V. Cunningham (Illinois Supreme Court), Hon. Georgia N. Alexakis (U.S. District Court for the Northern District of Illinois), Hon. Anthony C. Kyriakopoulos (Circuit Court of Cook County) and Hon. Jeffery Chrones (Circuit Court of Cook County). Listening to the judges’ reasoned findings dismissing the charges against Themistocles, it was apparent that their opinions were infused with the master principles enshrined in U.S. law. The 12-member panel of esteemed jurors on stage—composed of civic leaders, academics and media personalities—found Themistocles not guilty by a margin of 11-1. Likewise the audience voted, overwhelmingly for acquittal.

The Museum says its NHM Trial Series “highlights the enduring relevance and value of Greek thought and history.” I couldn’t agree more.

The National Hellenic Museum Has a mission to share Greek history, art, culture and the Greek American story, it also displays its extensive collection of more than 10,000 physical artifacts. Located in Chicago’s historic Greektown neighborhood since 2011, Museum hours are Thursday through Sunday from 10 a.m.-4 p.m. nationalhellenicmuseum.org

*This review can also be found at Theater in Chicago.

Going into “La Bohème” with little knowledge of Puccini’s masterpiece, I was just a naive theater-goer seeing it fresh at its opening Saturday night at Chicago’s Lyric. It is beautifully directed by Melanie Bacaling - striking massive two-story sets and colorful, ever varying crowd scenes. Especially intriguing to me are scenes where we see anonymous action through the muslin curtained windows of shops and apartments, imparting vividly a sense of life in every nook and cranny of the stage.

And all this action atop the magnificent and perfectly polished Lyric Opera Orchestra (conducted by Jordan de Souza), and a libretto by Luigi Illica and Giuseppe Giacosa, that in supratitles projected above the stage renders the original Italian in fresh and very funny English.

Set in wintry Paris in 1888 - the Eiffel Tower is under construction in the backdrop - its plot centers on the love story between the poet Rodolfo (tenor Pene Pati) and seamstress Mimi (soprano Ailyn Pérez), both poor and she suffering from consumption (tuberculosis in modern parlance).

Rodolfo falls immediately for Mimi. And as Ailyn Pérez sings Mimi’s role, I found myself skipping the translation.This transcendentally wonderful soprano, expressing in synchrony with Puccini’s lush score, articulates what is in her heart and mind - no words required - that she has fallen for Rodolfo hard and quickly. Through four acts we see them fall in together, live happily, separate when Rodolfo realizes he is too poor to sustain Mimi, then reunite as she faces her final hours.

But I saw it also the story of two struggling artists - Rodolfo, and his roommate painter Marcello (baritone Will Liverman) living through winter in an underheated flat. Surrounded by their posse of cohorts, they are hungry for love, and also just plain hungry - so a bit like “Friends” but with less resources. (La Boheme is also quite a bit like “Rent,” the 1996 Broadway musical and film adapted from it.)

Juxtaposed and nearly as important as the relationship of Mimi and Rodolfo is the tempestuous on-again off-again relationship of Marcello to Musetta (Gabriella Reyes), an emancipated woman who’s a strident gold digger, but her aggressive demeanor belies a heart of gold. For me, Musetta steals the show. Also notably delightful are two members of Rodolfo’s crew - philosopher Colline (Peixin Chen) and musician Schaunard (Ian Rucker), who are entertaining as actors along with excellent singing.

But the core of “La Bohème” is the music, and these principals are outstanding. The opera also features the 60-person Lyric Opera Chorus, led by Chorus Director Michael Black, plus the Uniting Voices Chicago children’s choir led by Josephine Lee. So the stage is packed.

If you have never seen opera before, Lyric Opera’s “La Bohème” is a can’t miss experience, and comes highly recommended.

Remaining performance dates for La Bohème are March 22, 25, 28, 31, April 3m, 6m, 7, and 12. All performances take place at the Lyric Opera House, 20 North Wacker Drive, Chicago.

*This review is also featured on https://www.theatreinchicago.com/!

“Don Quixote of La Mancha” is considered the oldest European novel, but it gets a fresh and exciting new treatment in “Circus Quixote." This is Lookingglass Theatre’s inaugural reopening after a year off while it retooled its much loved Water Tower Pumping Station location at Michigan and Pearson in Chicago.

In “Circus Quixote,” Cervantes’ beloved novel and it’s timeless characters—the delusional knight errant Don Quixote; the farmer turned squire Sancho Panza; the target of Quixote's courtly services Dulcinea (Laura Murillo Hart); his niece Antonia (Andrea San Miguel) who burns the books on chivalry that led to his madness—all spring to life.

The script by David Catlin and Kerry Catlin, who share director credits, brings in Spanish and latin-inflected English, but holds to the core of the tale—updated with added visions of quests that are now ever more familiar in our age of the revitalized renderings of Lord of the Rings.

Unlike Broadway’s 1965 musical “Man of La Mancha,” this version incorporates acrobatics, courtesy Evanton’s Actors Gymnasium—circus and movement choreography by Sylvia Hernandez-DiStasi— along with stunning puppetry (remarkable creatures large and small designed by Grace Neediman) and dashes of slapstick. The show includes sword fights aloft on ropes (kudos to Micah Figueroa as 
Quixote's frequent adversary Sansón Carrasco), members of the troupe "jousting" with windmills by climbing the blades in arial feats, and riding Don Quixote's famed Rocinante, an engineered baroque steam punk rocking chair which at one point holds seven of the troupe in motion.  

Eddie Martinez as Sancho Panza

The newly coined English word “quixotic” (for impractical or foolish causes) was drawn from the novel soon after its publication in 1605. And the cogent notes of this tale of the hopeless aspirations maintains the poignancy as eventually even taking those he loves on a fool's errand, jousting at windmills and battling an imaginary giant.
Eddie Martinez as the faithful but questioning Sancho Panza (and a stand-in for Cervantes) is remarkable.

But the highest accolades must be given to Laura Murillo Hart, an absolutely stunning performer on multiple levels. As Dulcinea, in whose service Quixote launches his quest, Hart casts a spell on the theater whenever she appears, vocalizing in haunting melodic strains (composer Kevin O’Donnell’s music is arresting), sometimes accompanying herself on guitar.

In Act II Hart is transformed into a mustachioed, hoop-skirted clergyman, her clerical garb becomes an elaborate puppet showcase, a half-dozen or more characters appearing variously in a mini stage at the skirt front, and from her billowing sleeves. It’s an endlessly entrancing performance, and Hart demonstrates an incredible range in her many roles. At Lookingglass, a star is born with Hart’s performance.

Laura Murillo Hart

The relaunch of Lookinglass Theatre has provided "Circus Quixote" a generous run through March 30, 2025 at 163 E. Pearson at Michigan Avenue. 

Founded in 1988, Lookingglass has been on hiatus for a year while it reset its business model. Founding member David Schimmer of “Friends” fame has joined the board, and appeared last month along with Governor JB Pritzger to dedicate the rejuvenated space, with a redesigned lobby, bar and cafe open for business at 163 N. Pearson. Funding by the Illinois Arts Council and Joan and Paul Rubschlager made possible the return of Chicago’s dreamiest theater that has years of memorable shows under its belt, including (to site just one) director Mary Zimmerman’s 1988 “Metamorphoses” which went on to win her a Tony in its 2002 Broadway transfer, and returned to Lookingglass multiple times.

Lookingglass has over the years offered a balance between inventively staged serious drama such as the 2009 Thornton Wilder’s “Our Town,” the Jackie Robinson story “Mr. Rickey Calls a Meeting” (2012) or “Death Tax” (2014); and more energized spectacles like “The Little Prince” (2013)  and “20,000 Leagues Under the Sea” (2018)  Lookingglass also develops an in-between type of show embodied in 2016’s “Thaddeus and Slocum” (2016), and like all its work, presented with verve, powerful dramatics, and incisive illumination of our condition as humans.

(Updated Feb. 17, 2025.)

Some 60 years ago black intellectual and littérateur James Baldwin met with the leading conservative spokesman and author of his day, William F. Buckley, Jr., to debate what seemed a startling proposition in 1965: “Is the American Dream at the Expense of the American Negro?”

Held at the University of Cambridge in the UK, the debate was televised on BBC, then rebroadcast to U.S. audiences on public television.

Now adapted for the stage and directed by Christopher McElroen, audiences can witness the heart of this historic event in the Chicago premiere of american vicarious’ “Debate: Baldwin vs. Buckley” at the DePaul University Chicago campus. It's an immersive experience, in the sense it is staged in a former gathering hall of McCormick Theological Seminary, with architectural similarities to the Cambridge setting. The show has also run in New York and London prior to its Chicago arrival.

At DePaul, McElroen, who has been developing this production for the past four years, uses original footage from the debate to provide context, leading in with large screen projections of the introductions of Buckley and Baldwin before the original audience—700 students and guests seated in the debate hall at Cambridge. This approach not only provides historic context, but melds the original event with the experience of the live debate being re-enacted for audiences at DePaul.

And as if on cue, this live audience applauds along with the Cambridge attendees of 60 years ago to welcome the live speakers.

As the projected moderator from Cambridge footage introduces them, we meet a live James Baldwin (played by Teagle F. Bougere) and William F. Buckley, Jr. (Eric T. Miller). The projection disappears and we are in the throes of the debate. As at Cambridge, live student moderators introduced core aspects of the arguments for and against the proposition. In the live DePaul theater, acting students take these roles in rotation at each performance.

Baldwin lays out key points in a speech that is methodically plotted out, but intuitively driven: that one must realize that there are different realities experienced by Blacks and whites, and so even the framing of the question is unbalanced:

I have to put it that way – ones sense, ones system of reality. It would seem to me the proposition before the House, and I would put it that way, is the American Dream at the expense of the American Negro, or the American Dream *is* at the expense of the American Negro. Is the question hideously loaded, and then ones response to that question – ones reaction to that question – has to depend on effect and, in effect, where you find yourself in the world, what your sense of reality is, what your system of reality is. That is, it depends on assumptions which we hold so deeply so as to be scarcely aware of them.

Eric T. Miller as William F. Buckley, Jr.

Buckley acknowledges the truth to Baldwin’s contention that Blacks live with less than whites, earn less, and fewer have achieved wealth and accomplishment within U.S. society. But Buckley asserts that Blacks must try harder; that as a people they have not advanced themselves, and once they do, they will live in equality. Buckley doesn't want to upset the applecart and believes that America supports Black equality.

The fundamental friend of the Negroe people in the United States is the good nature and is the generosity and is the good wishes and is the decency, the fundamental decency, that do lie at the reserves of the spirit of the American people.

Well the road to hell, as they say, is paved with such good intentions. Baldwin identifies for the Cambridge audience that Western cultural imperialism as the root of the issue.

A white South African or Mississippi sharecropper, or Mississippi sheriff, or a Frenchman driven out of Algeria, all have, at bottom, a system of reality which compels them to, for example, in the case of the French exile from Algeria, to offend French reasons from having ruled Algeria. The Mississippi or Alabama sheriff, who really does believe, when he’s facing a Negro boy or girl, that this woman, this man, this child must be insane to attack the system to which he owes his entire identity.

Of course, to such a person, the proposition which we are trying to discuss here tonight does not exist. And on the other hand, I have to speak as one of the people who’ve been most attacked by what we now must here call the Western or European system of reality. What white people in the world, what we call white supremacy – I hate to say it here – comes from Europe. It’s how it got to America. Beneath then, whatever one’s reaction to this proposition is, has to be the question of whether or not civilizations can be considered, as such, equal, or whether one’s civilization has the right to overtake and subjugate, and, in fact, to destroy another.

The production at DePaul illuminates the tremendous courage, and intellectual self-possession of Baldwin, who likens himself to the Biblical prophet Jeremiah, speaking unwelcome truths.

How does this simulation differ from the original debate? In the historic footage, Baldwin spoke as the only Black in a sea of white faces. Seated in the round, the live audience at DePaul was predominantly white, but now people of color are present as well, heightening the witness to the shamefulness of Buckley’s serious argument that Blacks needn’t complain, as their lives have measurably improved.

As with the original, Baldwin here is poetic and theatrical, and Bougere’s rendering of him is quite excellent. While the show’s setting at DePaul’s gothic wood trussed Cortelyou Commons hall is visually in keeping with its Cambridge cousin, the acoustics present challenges for the cast. Bougere, working with Baldwin’s clear language, works the room, projecting powerfully to the ceiling and pacing the stage in measured strides.

The historic Buckley, with his mid-Atlantic accent and overblown vocabulary, cannot help but come across as condescending in the original. Miller’s rendition of Buckley carries off with the same air of entitlement, jettisoning the Mid-Atlantic drawl, but still mired in Buckley’s sometimes convoluted sentences, and a occasionally obscure vocabulary that makes him sound like he is speaking with a mouthful of mutton.

Likewise sound quality is a challenge in displaying the spotty footage from the original broadcast. But the essence comes across directly and powerfully.

In an after-show audience comments session led by director McElreon, a common lament expressed is that we are still struggling with the issues of racism in our theoretically more enlightened times. Frankly, racism can only be addressed by a societal willingness for systemic change. And in truth, the only difference between what Buckley had to say in 1965, is that we can hear, and understand him, just a little better now.

TimeLine’s Chicago premiere production of the american vicarious’ “Debate: Baldwin Vs. Buckley,” is presented in partnership with the american vicarious and The Theatre School at DePaul University runs through March 2 at DePaul’s Cortelyou Commons, 2324 N. Fremont Street, in Chicago’s Lincoln Park neighborhood.

Overall Citadel Theatre’s ‘Dames at Sea’ has a smashingly great cast of singers and dancers, perfect for a musical comedy satirizing the over-the-top 1930s movies and Broadway revues that were light on plot and heavy on costumes, dance routine, and ostrich-feathered pageantry. 

That’s exactly what ‘Dames at Sea’ pokes fun at, but lovingly. It originated in 1966 as an Off-Broadway show that ran for 575 performances, and became the launching vehicle for Bernadette Peters. Set in the early 1930s, its book and lyrics by George Haimsohn and Robin Miller, fittingly for a satire, embody every theater cliche imaginable: A Midwestern chorus girl steps off the bus in Manhattan, falls into a Broadway lead, and rockets to stardom. Plot points are near memes harvested from musical extravaganzas of that decade: The star is sick! What are we gonna do?! The show must go on! Well kid, think you can do it?! What choice does any trouper have?! 

Melody Rowland as Ruby and Beck Hockason as Dick in "Dames at Sea."

Six decades later, it’s still totally fun, the comedy broad, the exposition minimal, because we already know the story. Choreography is great, though heavy on the tap shoes, and lilting, lovely choral singing, to boot.

The melodious score by Jim Wise pairs beautifully with Haimsohn and Miller’s lyrics— every song is original, but they all sound like something you’ve heard before. Conjuring up Cole Porter’s 1935 “When They Begin the Beguine“ is Wise’s “The Beguine,” a deft reflection of the original, played with exaggerated passion in a singing-dancing duet by Mona (Ciara Jarvis) and Captain (Steve McDonagh). Or “That Mister Man of Mine,” which, though different and original, is reminiscent of “Can’t Help Lovin’ Dat Man of Mine” from “Show Boat.”

Ciara Jarvis as Mona in "Dames at Sea."

There are some very good voices in this show: Beck Hockason in the role of sailor Dick; Melody Rowland as Ruby, that Midwestern chorus girl; and McDonagh as Captain. Very much in the Benadette Peters mold is Ciara Jarvis as Mona. Jarvis’s acting chops shows she gets it, and she plays the inside joke to the audience effectively. Jarvis also has a wonderful, rich stage soprano,liltingly beautiful and “she’as easy on the eyes,” as a gaffer might have remarked backstage.

All this is quite wonderful, and we could call the show a great success save for one horrible aspect: sound and music. The cast was well miked, and their voices were great—when we could hear them. Unfortunately the prerecorded orchestration was played at too loud a level, at least on opening night. Rarely could singers get above and beyond it. Even so, a couple numbers succeeded, “The Beguine,” and in Act II, “Raining in My Heart,” featuring restrained musical accompaniment that for the moment was closer to balance with the live singing. 

The recording of the accompanying music was also lacking—just simply unpleasant arrangements. Combined with being too loud, it was not good. Hopefully, sound adjustments are made for future performances. And as to stage and sets, perhaps Citadel will consider relocating to a more accommodating stage. One with a true backstage, or at least the possibility of actual sets. This is merely a high school auditorium, and a wall-sized LED screen is all they’ve got for background.

Were that sound tuned, this show could be somewhat recommended. It seems a shame, with such a professional cast and the investment in licensing of a strong property. “Dames at Sea” plays through December 15, 2024 at Citadel Theatre in Lake Forest, IL.