I think I’d better begin by answering some questions, starting with ‘WTF is the title of this show?’ to which I respond, the title actually is "[title of show]."

The play was conceived by a pair of artists in NYC, Jeff Bowen (Jonah Cochin) and Hunter Bell (Casey Coppess). Upon learning of the upcoming New York Musical Theatre Festival, they decide to write and submit a musical. There’s just a few problems with doing that: (1) the Festival is only three weeks away, and (2) they’re determined to write an original rather than an adaptation, but (3) they have no idea what to write about, or even (4) what to name their musical. Coming right down to the wire without a name, they end up using the space on the application form asking for [Title of Show] and name their musical [title of show].

Early attempts clearly illustrate that Hunter and Jeff truly do not have any idea what their musical should be about … not until they realize that their conversations about what to write are more interesting than what they’re actually writing! And thus it happens that these Two Nobodies from New York write a musical about two guys writing a musical about two guys writing a musical.

Shannon McEldowney (left), Jonah Cochin, Robert Ollis (at keyboard), Lexi Alioto, and Casey Coppess .

Jeff and Hunter ask their friends Susan (Lexi Alioto) and Heidi (Shannon McEldowney) to help, as well as Larry (Robert Ollis) to man the keyboard. The four converse and natter and brainstorm, kibitz, palaver and schmooze via a slew of hysterically funny songs, discussing the complexities of receiving money for art (is it success or selling out?) and the problems of loyalties vs. practicalities, learning unexpected lessons about themselves along the way.

I think you could call this a QueerMoot. Actually I don’t know if you could or not but I just did, so it’s done.

If you have any friends of the theatrical persuasion, you will find them depicted in [title of show] by Jeff, Hunter, Susan and/or Heidi; not surprising, as all four characters are (were?) (have been?) real people. I don’t know about Larry … we don’t get to learn much about Larry, who the Union prohibits from speaking any lines. But he sure knows his way around the eighty-eights!

The choreography by Britta Lynn Schlicht was lively and fresh, and wonderfully executed by the cast. It did, however, occasionally hinder hearing. I was ready to blame that on my rock-concert-impaired old ears, until my younger companion admitted having the same problem, from Casey Coppess in particular. I couldn’t tell if this was a problem with miking or with blocking, but I suggest both Director Jay Espano and Sound Designer Valerio Torretta Gardner take a look at this issue.

Props Designer Izadorius Tortuga and Scenic Designer Anshika Pathak wisely used restraint, keeping the set minimalist and letting the play tell the story. I have to give a shoutout for Aidan Lynn Smith, whose Lighting Design skillfully delimited separate scenes; and even louder shout to Projections Designer Joel Zishuk. His projections created an informative background for many scenes, but the piece de resistance was a kaleidoscopic panorama of the Playbill covers from a bazillion musicals!

The entire production crew was ably supported by Michael Lasswell (Technical Director / Scenic Design Consultant / My Favorite Bio Writer), Assistant Music Director Annie Liu, and Assistant Director Taylor Pasche. I once asked a theatrical friend ‘just what does a Stage Manager do, anyway?’, to which they responded ‘Everything.’ Kate Schnetzer assisted Julia Witty in doing Everything, and well.

[title of show] is running at PrideArts Theater at 4139 N Broadway, Chicago, through September 22 and comes recommended.

I first read JRR Tolkien’s trilogy, The Lord of the Rings, when I was eleven; since then I have reread the entire story almost every year. My birthday is September 22, same as Bilbo and Frodo. The quote [NOT that of the One Ring!] tattooed on my arm is in Sindarin, the Elvish language. I travelled to New Zealand on an LotR tour and later lived in NZ for 2 years. So, understand that I’m not just a fan of, but fanatical about The Lord of the Rings. Believe me when I say I most definitely know Tolkien’s type.  

In 1999 when the first of the three movies came out, I was terrified, as I’ve never seen a movie based on a book I loved that was not totally calamitous. But Peter Jackson is a god, and he did as wonderful an adaptation as humanly possible (though I’ll never forgive him for Faramir).

So, when I first learned that the Chicago Shakespeare Theater was producing Lord of the Rings onstage, I immediately put in a request to review it for Buzz Center Stage. As the event drew closer, however, I started getting anxious: LotR a musical?! But my misgivings lightened as, about ten minutes before the production began, costumed characters started larking about together onstage and off-. And the opening song, ‘The Road Goes On’, melted my doubts (as well as my heart) altogether: it was beautiful, and so right!

From the start it was clear there were two distinct groups in the sold-out house: those who were LotR fans (though I daresay few as monomaniacal as myself), and those who were meeting hobbits, elves, and wizards for the first time. My companion was of the latter group – he knew the basics of the story but had no true familiarity with it – so exploring his views made an interesting counterpoint with my own.

The cast and company were enormous; forgive me if I don’t praise everyone individually but only comment on the standouts.

Only the expertise and artistry of Directors Edward Hall and Kimberly Motes could produce such a monumental show. I’ll always see Aragon as quintessentially Viggo Mortensen, but Bob Mason’s casting was spot on: Will James Jr. fully engaged me in the role. Sir Ian McKellan is a tough act to follow, but Tom Amandes’ Gandalf was magnificent. The Hobbits – Eileen Doan as Merry, Ben Mathew as Pippin, Michael Kurowski as heroic Sam Gamgee, and Rick Hall as Bilbo – were all sensational – though I wish we’d heard more from them and gotten to know them better. Frodo’s is a very complex character, from the lighthearted Frodo of Bag End to the tormented Frodo on Mount Doom; a challenge for any actor. Elijah Wood nailed it of course, and so amazingly did Spencer Davis Milford. [It’s true Spencer isn’t (quite) as cute as Elijah, but then few folks are.]

The highest kudos I must reserve for Tony Bozzuto, whose portrayal of Gollum was phenomenal. Bozzuto accomplished the physical gymnastics of that kinetic creature and faultlessly enacted the contradictory mindset of that haunted, driven … what? not a person, more a wraith or an apparition, and a groveling vassal of the unholy trinity: the Ring, the Dark Lord, and Frodo Baggins, simultaneously and irreconcilably. Poor Gollum! Bozzuto managed to incite in me both Sam’s cynical aversion and Frodo’s compassionate empathy. He owned the stage whenever he appeared.

Justin Albinder (Legolas), Ian Maryfield (Gimli), and Matthew C Yee (Boromir) completed the Fellowship of the Ring, appointed by Jeff Parker as Elrond (and later pursued by Parker as Saruman). Unfortunately, we never got a chance to know any of them, aside from a few quips (“Never trust an Elf!”)

LotR is no chick flick; it’s totally a bloke’s story, but the sensual Arwen (Alina Taber) injected a bit of estrogen. I was disappointed at Galadriel: Lauren Zakrin played the terrifyingly beautiful elven queen, but the sound / mic system (Chicago Sound Designer Nicholas Pope) failed to capture the full range of Zakrin ‘s lovely soprano voice.  

Spencer Davis Milford as Frodo and Lauren Zakrin as Galadriel in Chicago Shakespeare’s US premiere of The Lord of the Rings – A Musical Tale, based on J.R.R. Tolkien’s beloved trilogy of books.

The most awesome scene in the movie Fellowship of the Ring is when Gandalf defies the Balrog, and by far the most wrenching scene is the desolation of the Fellowship, most especially Frodo, when Gandalf falls. This production gave us none of that. We barely hear Gandalf’s final gasp of “Fly, you fools!”. Then, when the Fellowship reconvenes afterwards, there is no reaction from the characters. Aragorn rather reminded me of the monitor on a primary school trip: “Everyone get to the bathroom? All here? Ok, let’s go”.

It was necessary, of course, to cut a great deal of material to bring the production in at three hours. One thing they cut was Book Two, The Two Towers. There’s no mention of Rohan at all, only nominal lines from Treebeard (voice by John Lithgow). They don’t go to Minas Tirith, no acknowledgement of (let alone depiction of a battle) Helm’s Deep. I don’t mind skipping Tom Bombadil, I never much liked him any road, but why on earth does Gandalf mention him at the end? Those unfamiliar with the books were left thinking ‘Huh? Tom Bombadil? Who dat?’

Scenic and Props Designer Simon Kenny, working with David Castellanos’ Stage Management crew, had a monumental task enacting the myriad venues and tableaus the characters move through, from the buoyant gaiety of the Shire, through the mystical glory of Lothlorien, to the malevolent horror of Mordor, with all number of epic battles generously interspersed. These phantasmagorias were enhanced by Light Designer Rory Beaton (albeit with a couple of glitches). Many of Kenny’s costumes were superb – the Black Riders in particular were truly terrifying – but not so much with the monsters, Balrog et al. And I’m not sure about Galadriel’s outfit; I kept losing track of the action in speculating whether it was a dress or a catsuit.

Oh! The Music! … yeah, that’s right; this is a musical. Book and lyrics were written by Shaun McKenna and Matthew Warchus, and the music composed by AR Rahman, Värttinä, and Christopher Nightingale. Each composer’s background and style was evident within the whole.

Christopher Nightingale is a prolific composer, orchestrator, director, and conductor, celebrated in the UK as well as the US. AR Rahman is said to have ‘redefined contemporary Indian music’. His music has been brought to national attention by multiple Academy Awards, Grammys, a Golden Globe and a BAFTA, and he brought his Eastern imprint to bear on the music of THE LORD OF THE RINGS. Värttinä is a contemporary Finnish group with a folk music/roots-based style, using multiple vocals and instrumentalists to combine traditional Finno-Ugric elements with traditional and original compositions.

I can’t pinpoint which portion of which songs derived from which composer, but it’s my private opinion that Värttinä’s folkloric imprint was what brought special charisma and bewitchment to my favorite compositions in THE LORD OF THE RINGS. For example, the introductory The Road Goes On and both enactments of Song of the Traveller were exquisite. And in Act 2, Now and for Always was resplendent, coupling Sam’s poignant lines with Gollum’s piteous voice.

Other numbers, unfortunately, did not rise to this level. Some I must describe as saccharine and others vapid: trite, repetitive, and/or simply too damn long. The production could benefit from using some of that unproductive time by deepening other portions of the show.

The Finale was, in a word, jarring. The message throughout Act II is that, after such frightful trials and momentous events, however triumphant, life simply cannot “go back to normal”. Yet Finale seems to be attempting to bring the story full circle, returning to the celebratory ambience of the Birthday Party in the Shire. A song that combined consolation with hope would, to my mind, be more harmonious with the canon.

[Sorry, can’t help it; I’m a hopeless LotR nerd! Geek]

Jeff Parker as Elrond and Spencer Davis Milford as Frodo, at center, with Will James Jr. as Aragorn, Ian Maryfield as Gimli, Eileen Doan as Merry, Michael Kurowski as Sam, Alina Jenine Taber as Arwen, Ben Mathew as Pippin, Tom Amandes as Gandalf, Justin Albinder as Legolas, and Matthew C. Yee as Boromir.

The acting was universally excellent, from the pivotal roles of Frodo, Gandalf and Gollum to those of Rosie Cotton (Suzanne Hannau) and the Ensemble: Joey Faggion, Mia Hilt, James Mueller, Jarais Musgrove, Hannah Novak, Adam Qutaishat, Laura Savage, Bernadette Santos Schwegel, and Arik Vega. Amandes was absolutely magnificent in Gandalf’s confrontation of the Balrog at the Bridge of Khazad-dúm. James’ Aragorn was regally magnetic; he brought Aragorn’s character deftly and smoothly from the rude Ranger of the North to the august High King of Gondor.

Frodo … Frodo Frodo Frodo. One of my favorite characteristics of Frodo is that of a reluctant hero – a small and insignificant person who finds himself a hero by simply doing what must be done. Milford’s acting was compelling and poignant, capturing this subtle but crucial quality. And I’ve already spoken of Bozzuto’s brilliance as Gollum.  These two actors delivered Tony-level performances.

The choreography and movement, directed by Anjali Mehra, with Fight Captains Ian Maryfield and dance captain Laura Savage, were less impressive. Again, the opening scene and song was very well done, but that good first impression was not sustained. In several scenes the ‘dancing’ consisted of merely keeping the bodies in motion with no rationale or allure, particularly with the orcs. Granted, orcs possess negligible symmetry, not to mention allure. However, the Nazgul’s maneuvers and actions in the early scenes [Flight to the Ford] were quite effective in communicating menace. [NOTE: A Maori haka* illustrates how eloquently movements can convey threat.] The center turntable was helpful in some scenes, but it doesn’t work to simply send the actors in circles as they make duplicative gestures.

The fight scenes were augmented by Beaton’s light shows, though they must be carefully coordinated to enhance without obscuring – a couple of poorly-timed light effects left the principals in the dark. And the special effects were not very special: once the Nazgul lost their horses we never saw them again (though the shriek was very well done). The Balrog … meh. And worst of all was at Mount Doom; we saw no trace of the Ring, and the explosion was decidedly anticlimactic.

The most important omission was the emotion. I mentioned the absence of grief at Gandalf’s fall, but the more important exclusions were in defining the characters and their interpersonal relationships. Sam’s love and devotion to Frodo was barely hinted at, though this relationship is of paramount importance from the beginning, in his insistence on accompanying his Master, to the end, where he is essential to Frodo’s ability to complete his Quest. Instead, it’s simply puzzling when Sam volunteers to carry the Ring. Nor do we see Frodo’s gradually falling under the Ring’s enchantment, so the climactic scene where he declares he will keep It became a ‘where’d that come from?’ moment. Similarly, we have no clue that Boromir is coming under the Ring’s spell until suddenly, at an inappropriately hectic moment, he makes a grab for it.

I could go on and on – but don’t panic, I won’t. Suffice to say that THE LORD OF THE RINGS - a Musical Tale has hobbits and elves, wizards and dwarves in the cast, but the story isn’t about them. The characters and their stories get lost, becoming merely a placeholder between songs, many of them with minimal relevance to the action (and variable quality).

In summary: I simply can’t evaluate THE LORD OF THE RINGS - a Musical Tale objectively. I’m not merely familiar with Tolkien’s work, I’ve spent countless hours immersed in it. I’m not simply knowledgeable about Middle Earth, I’ve lived there. And in this venue, I won’t elaborate on just how intimately acquainted I’ve been with the characters, as well as with the actors whom Peter Jackson selected to portray them. My companion, unfamiliar with the Trilogy, was enraptured by most of THE LORD OF THE RINGS - a Musical Tale.  For myself, I was too knowledgeable about (and I daresay too emotionally invested in) Tolkien’s stories to simply enjoy the show.

So, I’m telling you that, on the heavily-weighted scale of my judgment, THE LORD OF THE RINGS - a Musical Tale failed to tip the balance. However, I still RECOMMEND the program. So long as you’re not a total Tolkienophile, obsessed with the Canon and unable to tolerate even minor infringements, you will enjoy THE LORD OF THE RINGS - a Musical Tale. 

Recommended!

* The haka is a ritual dance that Maori warriors perform when commencing a fight. The New Zealand Rugby team, theAllBlacks, performs a haka on the field before each match.

With CAN YOU HEAR US NOW? Chicago Tap Theatre presents an original show directed by Molly Smith. CAN YOU HEAR US NOW? featured a series of original choreography from CTT dancers inspired by, referencing, and in honor of historical figures in tap dance and jazz music history from the LGBTQIA+ community. Part archival research project, part live show, this show combined tap history with the state of tap dance today, with a focus on LGBTQIA+ perspectives. The production was a celebration of queer culture and history through the eyes (and shoes) of the dancers themselves.

CAN YOU HEAR US NOW? THE QUEER TAP DANCE REVOLUTION, performed at the Edge Theatre, is Molly Smith's directorial debut, and a fine job she made of it! Each production was choreographed by a Chicago Tap Theatre (CTT) member or apprentice, including Molly herself. Her solo performance, to Lesley Gore’s You Don’t Own Me, was stunning and clearly heartfelt. She further discussed the connection she sees between tap dance and queerness.

Mark Yonally (he/him) is the founder and Artistic Director of Chicago Tap Theatre, one of the most critically well-regarded dance companies in Chicago. They perform an annual three-show season in Chicago and tour throughout both America and Europe. Their performances have been chosen as the Top Ten Dance events of the year by the Chicago Tribune, the Chicago Sun-Times, SeeChicagoDance and Windy City Media. CTT’s stated mission is to share the creativity, the history, and the pure joy of tap dance; these were clearly illustrated in CAN YOU HEAR US NOW?

The set was purposefully and effectively nearly neutral; not so the lighting! which was refashioned to enhance each piece.

The intervals between pieces were very short, which was useful for the most part. However, their duration might have been adjusted to coordinate with the mood of the dances, particularly near the end, with more emotionally charged pieces: Molly Smith’s solo, and the dance commemorating our martyrs to the AIDS epidemic. Here the rapid interruptions felt hurried and forced.

My first impression was, naturally, of the set: a stunning mural by Sholo Beverly in shades of blues and grays, the only color the red white & blue of an American flag. A series of posters were hung from the ceiling, from an announcement of a slave auction through Emancipation, the Civil Rights era and up to a headline from Obama’s first election.

1619 is the story of a journey made by an entire people: embarked upon involuntarily, maintained brutally, perpetuated coercively, and endured bitterly. Portions of the journey became gradually more volitional and intentional, e.g. the Great Migration between 1910 and the 1970s. But even that movement, though Isabel Wilkerson calls it an act of individual and collective agency, was neither truly spontaneous nor discretionary, but in response to the horrors of Jim Crow.

The journey was narrated by three individuals: playwright Ted Williams III, choreographer Marchello Lee, and Shannon Stiles, with four additional actors performing simultaneous enactments: Nicole Ross, Vanessa Love, Lucy Maura, and Ozivell Eckford, who was even more amazing on the West African hand drum as with the contemporary drum set onstage.

1619 is titled for the date that the privateer ship White Lion landed at Point Comfort [sic], Virginia, bearing 20-30 enslaved African people, who were traded by the ship’s chandler for supplies. The agonizing first scenes depicted the arrival of these terrified and traumatized people, and their sale as chattel. Indentured servitude was common in the seventeenth century, largely indigent white Europeans who were enslaved for as long as their indenture proscribed and then returned to their lives as free men. Enslaved Africans held no such contract; they were chattel slaves – property of their owners, as were their children, thus assuring an ongoing and self-renewing (organic and 100% pure; not a speck of cereal) supply of workers on whose backs the American South would build its empire of cotton, tobacco, rice, and indigo.

Our interpreters lead us to Juneteenth 1865, heralding the Emancipation Proclamation which, though flawed and limited, offered putative freedom to enslaved African workers. However, as one freedman stated, “we colored people did not know how to be free, and white people did not know how to have free colored people around them.” The result, of course, was mutual hostility and widespread mistrust, which has persisted to this day – 400 years, as Stiles repeatedly emphasized in her laments.

Stiles was superb, representing the anger, iron will, and exhaustion of Black women throughout history. The other two chroniclers debated in the hip-hop song Booker T or W.E.B.:  Williams made Washington’s accommodationist arguments while Lee aligned himself with W.E.B. DuBois, arguing for activism and reparations. I must admit this is where I began parting company with 1619 myself; attempts were made throughout to represent the virtues of both schools of thought but … see, I was 8 when Reverend King, with Bayard Rustin, Philip Randolph and 249,997 of their closest friends, Marched on Washington. There was, naturally, an article in Newsweek about it, with a sidebar specifically about the “I have a dream” speech. My mother cut that page out of the magazine and gave it to me, saying, “Keep this and remember this man. He’s a great man; he’ll go far.”  I still have that clipping in my childhood scrapbook, with the report cards and other memorabilia. Just sayin’—I’ve reverenced Dr King all my life, but at heart I’m more of a Malcolm sort of girl. Takes all types, n’est ce pas? And 1619 was written to speak to all types.

The music was amazing, comingling hip-hop, jazz, blues, spirituals, wonderful West African drumming by Ozivell Eckford and eight original songs. Marchello Lee’s choreography was marvelous, and masterfully danced by all players: Williams, Lee, and Stiles, with Eckford, Nicole Ross, Vanessa Love, and Lucy Maura. I think it was cool to see the playwright and choreographer on stage with the others; and Williams showed himself to be the consummate multi-tasker by also co-directing, with Fleetwood-Jourdain’s Artistic Director Tim Rhoze.

What didn’t quite work for me was the story sequence, despite the raconteurs. I lost the linear coherence somewhere between Abraham Lincoln and Rosa Parks, and found it difficult to reconnect, though I knew the chronicle fairly well myself.

I applaud Williams’ optimism, but I honestly can’t share it. The final song, about I See the Chains are Gone, wasn’t so much inaccurate as precocious; what event or circumstances does Williams see, present or forthcoming, that will actualize this change? The groundswell following George Floyd’s murder was squelched by a virus, and the many many subsequent murders have failed to revive that spark. Personally, I fear Williams may need to write an epilogue after November.

I was disappointed (though not surprised) at the audience: gratifyingly numerous and responsive, but overwhelmingly pale. True, this is Evanston, but the production was co-sponsored by Evanston Public Library and Northwestern University which, last time I checked, had no race restrictions in their admissions policies.  One hopes the NU Office of Neighborhood and Community Relations (the entity actually collaborating with Fleetwood-Jourdain) will put out some fliers.

Williams states in his biographical blurb that he ‘lives to inspire’. I wouldn’t necessarily call 1619 inspirational, but … let’s say it’s a safe production to recommend to your more ‘un-woke’ friends with reasonable confidence that they will learn something without being scared away. And the show is worth the time simply for the singing and dancing!

1619: THE JOURNEY OF A PEOPLE plays at the Fleetwood-Jourdain Theatre on Saturday evenings and Sunday afternoons through June 30.

RECOMMENDED

First on the stage was Tabla artist Salar Nader, considered Afghanistan’s premier virtuoso on the tabla. His unceasing accompaniment was at times almost subliminal, then bursting out with intentional significance, but ever present, keeping us firmly rooted in Afghani culture … though I hadn’t been aware that in August 2021 the Taliban banned music in Afghanistan. Welcome to the States, Salar!

THE KITE RUNNER is based on the book by Khaled Hosseini, adapted for the stage by Matthew Spangler. Be warned that THE KITE RUNNER is not a light-hearted tale of boys frolicking in fields; many scenes in THE KITE RUNNER will be triggering to many people. These duplicities and complexities are what make THE KITE RUNNER a superb story.

Amir is the protagonist and narrator of the story, splendidly played by Ramzi Khalaf.  Fitting, as Amir’s talent for writing and storytelling is a key factor in his relationship with his father Baba (Haythem Noor), who is bitterly disappointed that his son is not interested in the games of ‘real men’, like soccer.

One game that Amir is enthusiastic about is Kabul’s annual Kite Fighting contest. Kite fighting is a two-man team sport: Amir directs and steers the kite while the glass-edged line is reeled out by kite runner Hassan, ardently played by Shahzeb Zahid Hussain. This relationship between Amir and Hassan is a central and enduring theme throughout THE KITE RUNNER.  

In Kabul kite fighting the kite strings are sharp and the sole objective is to use the tension of your string to cut all your opponent’s kite strings: the game is over when there is but one kite remaining in the sky. The runner’s role is to keep continual fixity on the line: just enough traction to make the string a weapon. There are no other rules … except, of course, that only boys can play.

Salar Nadar in The Kite Runner National Tour 

Amir and Hassan are closer than brothers: born into the same house, they nurse at the same (wetnurse’) breast, they take their first step together, and they speak their first words the same day: Amir’s first word is “Baba”, while Hassan’s is “Amir”. Though they live in the same estate, Amir and Baba sleep in the palatial house, all marble walls and crystal chandeliers, while Hassan and his father Ali (Hassan Nazari-Robati) live in a mud hut against the wall of the compound. The bonds of loyalty, Baba to his servant Ali and Amir to Hassan, are strong despite Baba and Amir being Pashtun, practicing Sunni Islam, while Ali and Hassan are ethnic Hazara and Shi’a Muslims. Throughout the story Amir struggles to navigate his feelings of ethnic superiority over the natural bonds of friendship: ‘But he’s not my friend! I almost blurted. He’s my servant!’ … and ‘Why did I play with Hassan only when no one else was around?’  

The Pashtun’s genetic elitism manifests in their relationships: meek, humble Ali would never dream of sullying his fealty to his lifelong master, any more than Hassan would renege on his allegiance to Amir. Both Pashtun men, however, deceive and betray the Hazara men they love dearly. Prejudice against Hazara is widespread: Hassan is often bullied by Assef (Wiley Naman Strasser) and his brutish cronies; Amir usually defends him… usually.

BTW: Any of this sound familiar? THE KITE RUNNER is totally relevant to 2024.

The production was splendidly directed by Giles Croft, with the able assistance of Cultural Advisor and Dialect Coach Humaira Ghilzai, who has meticulously crafted every detail to accurately reflect the glory of Afghan culture, particularly the Nikah (wedding) ceremony and the sparkling Afghan national dance, attan; I’ll wager Movement Director Kitty Winter had real fun with this!

The production crew was outstanding. The minimalist sets by Barney George were perfect to contain the complexities of the script. I loved how the curtains were triangular, like kites, and how their color changed via Lighting Designer Charles Balfour. The work of Musical Supervisor Jonathan Girling, Sound Designer Drew Baumohl and Projection Designer William Simpson allowed us to differentiate our location as the story moved from Kabul to San Francisco, from the kite-fighting fields to the cramped and sterile offices at Immigration. I need to give a shoutout to Fight Consultant Thomas Schall; he had a lot of work in this production and the fights came off flawlessly.

I always make sure to praise the Stage Manager. I once asked my friend and Thespian oracle, “so what does a Stage Manager do?” to which they replied: “Everything.” So, thanks, Giles T Horne, for doing Everything and doing it Well.

What makes THE KITE RUNNER truly remarkable is its complexity. The characters are multi-dimensional and expertly crafted out. The hostile Russian occupation of Afghanistan leaves deep scars; when the only oncologist Amir can find to care for Baba has Russian parents, Baba refuses, preferring death to fraternization.

The horror, however, was well balanced. Just when I thought I couldn’t take another barbarity, a word or a skillful mannerism would make me chuckle … and thank Whoever for that! cos there’s plenty of barbarity. THE KITE RUNNER is unquestionably a tragedy, but not irretrievable; Hassan’s final message to Amir said: ‘There is a way to be good again.’ *

VERY HIGHLY RECOMMENDED!

Playing through June 23; two shows on Saturday 6/15 at CIBC Theatre

*BTW, you can get a t-shirt printed with that legend in the lobby

I love stories about World War II, particularly about survivors of the Holocaust and the Camps. And I love stories based on real people. So naturally I was drawn to THE DANISH PLAY, which Canadian playwright Sonny Mills (he/him/they/them) wrote about her great-aunt Agnete Ottosen. THE DANISH PLAY addresses historical problems that are piercingly contemporary: nationalism, justice, freedom, and the politics of gender and sexuality. What could be more relevant in 2024?

Agnete Ottosen is brilliantly played by Artistic Director Selena Lopez (she/her), who skillfully enacts the different portrayals of Agnete as the story skips about between three eras. The play opens in the middle period, when/where Agnete is being processed and questioned in Ravensbrüch. Happily, more of the action takes place in the immediate pre-War era, examining Agnete’s passionate involvement in Danish Resistance … as well as her personality: difficult is the word used by Mads Pedersen (Stephen Dunn, he/him); I would upgrade that to obdurate, even surly – but always accessible (and likeable!) to the audience – to me, any road.

These pre-war scenarios let us get to know the other characters, with their close associations and deep affection for Agnete. Helga Hansen (Lisa Stran, she/her) is a practical influence; her shop girl Bente Jespersen (Mackenzie Williams she/her) brings emotional depth; and, my personal favorite, Kit Ratliff (they/them) brings to exuberant life her irrepressible and hard-drinking brother, Michael. Dolph Paulsen (he/him) and Madeline Wakley (she/her) multitask as Morten and Lisbet and several other roles. The entire cast was superb, upholding Three Crows’ standard of excellence.

The scenes of Agnete’s experiences in Ravensbrüch were predictably brutal, but more hideous still were our glimpses into Agnete’s life afterwards. Her uncompromising and confrontational nature increased her vulnerability to the ravages of what we now call Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome; that implacable disease has profoundly grievous consequences for Agnete Ottosen. Her poetry, intensely radical and intimate, keeps her tethered to reality, but that stanchion is consistently and catastrophically frayed by societal judgments.

The creative team was equally superb. Director Kirstin Franklin (she/her) and Stage Manager Erin Galvin (she/her) had their work cut out for them! The rapidity of scene changes were as challenging for the crew as for the actors and, though that rapidity was sometimes bewildering, in retrospect I judge that my disorientation was an integral and crucial element of the theatrical experience.

As daunting a task was accomplished – and very well indeed – by Scenic Designer Chad Eric Bergman (he/him), Scenic Painter Hannah Keeler (they/them), Creative Producer Nathaniel Negrón (he/him), Sound Designer Samuel Fitzwater-Butchart (he/him), and Lighting Designer Bryan Byars (he/him). The set was elaborate, and was called upon to depict several disparate surroundings, from a publishing house to a wealthy (and/or indigent) family home, a bakeshop to a concentration camp. The acting skill of the cast was made crucial in these portrayals.

Intimacy/Violence Designer Michael Bevis (he/him) also rose to his formidable task wonderfully, making the Ravensbrüch scenes realistic but bearable. Costume Designer Dagny Mullins (she/her) managed the difficulty of the rapid-fire changes by Keeping It Simple: the most decked-out characters were guards and prison officers, while all others’ raiment was muted and unobtrusive, all in service of allowing Sonny Mills’ story, and the excellence of the actors enacting it, to shine through.

I was fortunate to be seated near Props Designers Judith Laughlin (she/her) and Jim Heatherly (he/him), and I utilized my finely-honed earwigging prowess to insinuate myself into their conversation, thus learning of the Daedalean plenitude of properties and the vicissitudes of their procurement.

This was not a pleasant, relaxing evening’s entertainment. THE DANISH PLAY required substantial concentration during and deliberation afterwards before I came to grips with it. I’m not presumptuous enough to say that I’ve grasped its entirety yet – I’m sure I’ll be thinking about THE DANISH PLAY for a long time.

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

THE DANISH PLAY will run at Raven Theatre, 6157 N Clark St, through June 16^th. It is the mission of Three Crows Theatre to make stage performance accessible to all, and their policy is pay-what-you-can. A worthy investment! And definitely worthy of whatever you can pay.

There are no words.

Well, obviously that’s not true cos I’m about to say a whole bunch of words – they can pretty much all be found in the thesaurus under glorious, magnificent, gorgeous … you get the idea. The only bad news is that it’s a short run, just May 17-19, but don’t despair: HUBBARD STREET DANCE is Chicago-based, and they’ll be back. Get on their email list so you can get tickets to their next show. Pricey? maybe. Value for the money? inestimable!

I’m unabashedly biased: I’ve been watching and loving HUBBARD STREET DANCE for almost forty of their forty-six years, but despite that familiarity, OF JOY blew my socks clean off. OF JOY is the third and final series in HUBBARD STREET DANCE’s 2023/24 Season: OF ABUNDANCE. The 47^th season will kick off in November, so start watching your inbox in October.

The program included four pieces with two intermissions. The dances made the need for the intermissions clear: the company needed to recuperate, recover, regain, rehydrate, rebound, and rally. OMG the amount of pure energy expended!

First was Echoes of Our Ancestors, choreographed by the world-renowned Maria Torres and danced by the entire company to music by Philip Hamilton. Its narrative choreography connected with the traditional Caribbean Latino rhythms, and Luis Razo’s costumes used the brilliant colors characteristic of Afro-Latino culture, with enormously wide skirts that became wings and striped shawls swept with the rhythms. One dancer described Echoes of Our Ancestors as ‘a melting pot’, and Torres agreed that she intended the work to form a bond between Afro-Latino and other cultures. The dance was a whirling turbulence with dancers all over the stage – I’d like to watch it several more times to catch the action in other realms of the stage.

After intermission the show resumed with a solo, Show Pony, danced on the night I attended (5/18/24) by Cyrie Topete (she/they) [on other nights the dancers were Alysia Johnson (Alysia/she/her) and Aaron Choate (they/them)]. Kyle Abraham choreographed, and Fritz Masten costumed Topete in a full leotard of gleaming gold, which took on other tones under Dan Scully’s lighting. Cyrie says she danced Show Pony with “spontaneous and playful choices … I feel powerful and confident, and I feel safe to roar!” – all of which was wholeheartedly evident in her dancing. The music, Hatshepsut, was written and performed by Jlin and was equally spontaneous and playful. The music and choreography were truly one, not simply complementary but reciprocal, interchangeable.

A Duo was choreographed by Resident Artist Aszure Barton (she/her), working with dancers Abdiel Figueroa Reyes (he/they) and Aaron Choate (they/them). I adore M/M pas de deux, and I believe it was subtly enhanced by both dancers being nonbinary. Another augmentation was the collaborative choreography: Barton continually evolved it in response to each dancer’s strengths and virtuosity, as well as the chemistry between the dancers, which was palpable. Choate says Barton’s work is so difficult that performing it gives a dancer fresh insight into their capacity and potential. Two words used in reference to A Duo were curiosity and playfulness. Yup, two in a row, Show Pony and A Duo, with ‘playful’ intrinsic to the choreography and performance. The music was amazing as well: “Miu” and “Shaolin Mantis” composed, produced, and recorded by Maria Herlop. Performing on electric bass was Oscar Garrobe; Mix James Ginzburg and Marina Herlop. I needed the intermission myself to get my breath back after this!

The final selection was Impasse, choreographed by Swedish Johan Inger, who also did the Scenic Design, with Fernando Hernando Magadan as Stager. This was a complex piece, very energetic, with fourteen dancers:  Alexandria Best (she/her), Jacqueline Burnett (she/her), Michelle Dooley (she/her), Aaron Choate (they/them), Elliot Hammans (he/him), Jack Henderson (he/him), Alysia Johnson (she/her), Shota Miyoshi (he/him), David Schultz (he/him), Matt Wenckowski (he/him), Simone Stevens (she/her), Cyrie Topete (she/they), and Craig D. Black Jr (he/they; also Rehearsal Director).

It was astonishing to witness some of the incredible contortions a human body can tangle itself into! Dancers reported being initially dubious about some of the choreography, not completely sure a human body could do that … but it could, and they did! The erstwhile impossible configurations were achieved, then passed into muscle memory and were embraced. Aggregates of dancers formed patterns and enactments, working together to weave storylines then unravelling into new compositions. The music included Diagnostic by Ibrahim Maalouf, distributed by Harmonia Mundi – Lily (is 2), Will Soon be a Woman, Maeva in the Wonderland, Your Soul, and Never Serious. Original composition by Amos Ben-Tai.

I have only one criticism: the volume of the music. It was excessive for me, even with my rock band-hardened eardrums. My companion has sensory processing issues and was at times in pain, even with their fingers in their ears. The music was gorgeous, all of it, and absolutely perfect with the choreography, but it was almost too loud to hear – kind of like being too tired to sleep y’know? Neither are pleasant.

I wish I could tell you to see HUBBARD STREET DANCE perform OF JOY, but the run is over … was over before I had this review written. But some individual dances will be repeated, and additional ones performed, in the 47^th season. And just think: the 2027/28 season will be HUBBARD STREET DANCE’s 50^th, so there’s bound to be an extravaganza of dance that year!

VERY HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

TimeLine Theatre has entranced me for years with its historically- and politically-significant plays, riveting and educational – just my cup of tea! So, I felt honor-bound to pay homage to the final event TimeLine will produce in their current (way-too-small) Lincoln Park venue, where they’ve been for a quarter century. BLACK SUNDAY, by Dolores Diaz, sounded intriguing: a 1930’s rural family starving on land that’s been devastated by locusts, drought, and the Depression, leading up to the cataclysmic storm on April 14, 1935 that earned the Plains its moniker “Dust Bowl” (and inspired a Woody Guthrie song).

The story sounds terrific, but unfortunately it didn’t play out on the stage. All five characters were essentially caricatures of archetypal characters, without any individual uniqueness or liaison with one another. The performances were superb but fragmented by rapid runs of brief scenes that blacked out as soon as they got close to showing us who the characters were.

Pa (David Parkes), characterizing ‘strong silent type’, surpassed that cliche and went straight to surly and loutish. There was not one point in the production where I got any idea of how he felt about his wife or teenage daughter. He didn’t want to leave his Land, and that was the sum of his persona.

Certainly, the disasters across the Plains drove people insane and many of those were women. Ma (Mechelle Moe) was a traditionally Freudian hysteric: driven barmy by hardship and despair, she’s become psychotic, having visions that show her … what? I never quite saw. Ma hangs on Pa, imploring him to SEE the message in her visions and leave this hard-luck farm. I saw no trace of affection between Ma and Pa, but no true hostility either – the brief scenes of domestic violence were well played but uninformative. Aside from that one brief flare there was no real sense of how they felt about one another.

The character of daughter Sunny (Angela Morris) was classic rebellious adolescent, amplified by hardship and fear. Her rebellion and desire to fly the coop were authentic, but playwright Díaz returned to Victorian psychoanalysis by making her hypersexual, rubbing her baps on both the Mexican vagrant farmhand Jesús (Christopher Alvarenga) and the timorous preacher Jim (Vic Kuligowski). Jim’s extreme uptightness was noteworthy but never explored, though there could well have been interesting reasons for his qualms – deeply closeted? Wife and kids back in Abilene? Actually, hankering for Ma? Or Jesús? Jesús’s character is billed as having some sort of dark secret, but that ends up being fairly ho-hum and we learn little more about him.

So, these fragmentary folks wandered from one scene to another, moving on to the next before we could grasp why they’d just done … whatever.

The projections by Anthony Churchill and Parker Molacek were absolutely superb, partnering with Sound Designer Forrest Gregor to create a totally immersive experience, particularly the storms… and the locusts gave us an idea of What’s Next for Chicago! Props designer Saskia Bakker maintained TimeLine’s tradition of authentic and exciting touches, and Scenic Designers Joe Schermoly and Catalina Niño gave us a wonderful set, rich in nooks, crannies and levels, though I disagreed with some of the ways Director Helen Young utilized them. And I was a bit squicked by all the animal corpses: first chickens (with several additional references to eggs); then coyotes … one species after another piled onstage.   

This could have been a fine show; the actors were excellent, the production first-rate.  The problems lay with the play itself. Dolores Díaz was overambitious, trying to deliver The Show with Everything. She’d have done better to choose two or three themes to drill down on. She delivered the disaster and tragedy bits, but we could have got those from reading The Grapes of Wrath. And Steinbeck recognized the convoluted interpersonal dynamics as key. In BLACK SUNDAY the characters got lost in Díaz trying to include politics, racism, poverty, agricultural mismanagement, a bit of labor history, psychosis, sexual psychoneuroses, domestic violence … that makes for a pretty full agenda! even without expounding on climate change, not trusting the audience to make that connection ourselves.

Director Helen Young could have mitigated these problems with some judicious scene-cutting and slowing the action from machine-gunfire to a speed that would allow us time for thought and reflection before the next sensational scene superimposed itself. It was also faulty direction that kept the characters from connecting and interacting emotionally.

TimeLine Theatre is relocating to a vintage building in Uptown where they can expand their mission. Current estimates place its opening in 2026. In the meantime, TimeLine Theatre will continue to offer productions at various kindred theatres about the North side.

BLACK SUNDAY plays through June 29th

TimeLine Theatre     611 W Wellington

I arrived at City Lit Theater’s MURDER IN THE CATHEDRAL expecting a heavy, serious, doubtless thought-provoking but rather intimidating major work of literature. By the end of the performance, I wanted to rush out, buy the book and read it immediately. Any production that accomplishes this in three hours must be called a success!

At its most basic level T.S. Eliot’s play is a meditation on Christian martyrdom in a time of great political stress. The quotation from Alexai Navalny, “I’m on the very blackest part of the blacklist,” on the program’s front-page links this theme directly to the times we live in today.  The script was almost entirely in verse (how else would the Nobel Prize-winning poet write a play?) and at many points the extended alliteration and vivacious rhyme remind one of “Skimbleshanks, the Railway Cat,” or “Macavity’s a Mystery Cat, he’s called the Hidden Paw,” and the other wonderful TS Eliot poems that gave us the lyrics to Cats.  

Production operated from many levels. Patti Roeder designed costumes ranging from modern business suits to carefully constructed evocations of medieval garb. The various social classes and estates were delineated, with the Chorus [Sally Olson, Isabel Schmitz, Katarina Bakas, Kara Chandler] representing the working poor of Canterbury while the rich and politically powerful barons were embodied in the Tempters [Sean Harklerode, Varris Holmes, Robert Howard], who doubled as Knights with Fourth Knight Zach Kunde, who also played Messenger.  The Priests of the Cathedral were played by John Blick, Stephen Fedo, and Joel Thompson. As a whole the entire cast was splendid and Paul Chakrin’s fight choreography gave us a bloodcurdling assassination.

Which brings us to Becket himself, masterfully played by James Sparling and appareled with consummate attention to detail. I have no idea what vestments a Roman Catholic archbishop of the 12th Century wore or how his acolytes invested him. I do know what a present-day Anglo-Catholic priest wears and how she vests herself, and costume director Patti Roeder nailed it precisely.

The stage was in the sanctuary of Edgewater Presbyterian Church, and Director [and outgoing Producer and Artistic Director] Terry McCabe presented the play in the (semi) round. The central aisle leading to the stage area in front of an altar table and pulpit was, of course, singularly appropriate, and Mike McShane’s lighting through the stained glass behind the altar had a great effect.  But the most amazing contribution was that of composer Phillip Seward, who set the verses of the four-member chorus (think Greek chorus, not Chorus Line) to haunting music in his world-premiere score.

 The four singer / actresses articulated Eliot’s lines, now lyrics, with great clarity and their four-part harmony was flawless.  As in a Greek play, these chorus members were not characterized in the script, yet their acting ability, as well as subtle cues from their costumes, allowed me to imagine the sort of women they were “in real life” as they went about their arduous daily rounds in the 12th Century city of Canterbury.

The role of the chorus is to propel the plot, and the music – pianist Jacob Adams punctuated by hammered chimes – intensified that effect.  The first act, while intellectually heavy, sped by, and the composer closed with an allusion to a somber, minor key Advent hymn, “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel” – a falling melody line that carries the lyric, “and ransom captive Israel” – a ransom of martyrs’ blood.  

Dialect coach Carrie Hardin’s work with the cast is clearly evident in the British r-lessness, but for the first minutes I wished she’d paid more attention to de-nasalizing the a’s.  However, I soon stopped noticing this. I was particularly intrigued by the choice to portray Becket’s internal conflict as a dialog alternating his middle-class British accent with a working class, almost Cockney style of speech.  

All the performances were strong, but I was particularly impressed with Sparling somehow managing to make Becket not only compelling but also, for me at least, annoying.  Historically, Becket’s assassination was spurred when King Henry II flew into a temper and shouted, “Will no-one rid me of this meddlesome priest?!”  Four of his loyalists took him literally, traveled to Canterbury and, indeed, murdered Becket there in the Cathedral.  How seriously Henry actually meant the comment is unknowable, but I found myself empathizing with his exasperation. 

This reviewer, as it happens, spent 8th grade in England and this period of English history was on that year’s curriculum.  Knowing a bit about the politics of that time was helpful in my understanding the speeches of the first act.  For anyone lacking a middle school level of familiarity with 12^th Century English history, this Wikipedia article covers what Mr. Dowthwaite told us in class.  

Highly recommended!

Playing through June 16 at City Lit Theater.

All my gratitude to Elizabeth Vann for her invaluable assistance in composing this review.

Blue in the Right Way audaciously chose for their inaugural production a 400-year-old play, WOMEN BEWARE WOMEN, written in 1621 by Thomas Middleton and adapted by the company’s co-founders Kevin Smith (Kevin/Kevin’s, also director) and Daiva Bhandari (she/her, also lead actor and choreographer). WOMEN BEWARE WOMEN was abstractly staged, accompanied by a pair of gender-bending commentators, with Spanish/English translation subtitles, original music, exotic projections … and as many other quirky devices as their extraordinary minds could devise.

The result had me asking other audience members, “Am I the only one who has no idea what’s going on here?” Unfortunately, the ones I asked simply looked at me pityingly, one saying, “It’ll all clear up with the second act.” Sadly, this did not transpire. In the first act actors wore sumptuous Jacobean garb, but in the second act costumer Alaina Moore (she/her) chose contemporary dress, and I had trouble even figuring out who was who, leave alone clarifying all that had gone before.

Smith added some notable supplements to Thomas Middleton’s original script. Most remarkable was the double act of Kidany Camilo (they/she/he, Solange) and Bree Perry (she/they, Clara) appearing throughout the show dressed as ‘maids from the Clue game’, with commentary and heart-rending narrative about Solange’s trans/femme childhood.

Also outstanding were Daiva Bhandari (she/her) as Livia, who ultimately gets embroiled in her own schemes and John Zhou Duncan (any with respect) as Ward, who romped exuberantly with Sordido (Shail Modi he/him). Ward is described as ‘immature’ – was this a euphemism for ‘camp as a row of pink tents’?

Kudos to intimacy consultant Leo Mock (they/them/he/him) and intimacy director Courtney Abbott (she/they); as well as and most particularly to violence designers R&D Choreography (Rick Gilbert (he/him) and Victor Bayona (he/him); the fights were marvelous, and the cataclysmic ending was spectacular.

The entire cast was extraordinary: Lynne Baker (she/her, Mother); Ryan Wright Cassidy (he/him, Hippolito); Johnny Moran (he/him, Fabritio); Huy Nguyen (he/him, Duke); Keenan Odenkirk (he/him, Guardiano); Christin Prince (she/her, Bianca); Mia Van De Mark (she/her, Isabella); and Brandon Wiman (he/him, Leantio). Cardinal was played by understudy Alex Amaya (he/him), who did a fine job with a suitably bizarre performance.

Sound engineer Chris Wood (he/they) gave us a lot of sound! though it sometimes overrode the actors’ voices. Likewise, Eme Ospina-López’s (they/them) videos and projections were powerful; sometimes overly so. The scenic design by Andersonville Scenic Studios was made particularly striking by a mirror on the ceiling so the action below was repeated above – striking, yes, but an additional confusing feature in a thoroughly bewildering show. The show ran more than 30 minutes longer than billed, and during the final scenes I kept wondering when it was going to end… and how would I tell when it did?

Also on the artistic and production team were Katie Mazzini (she/her, assistant director); Sonia Perelló (she/her, Spanish translator);  Tianxuan Chen (any with respect, scenic and lighting designer); Juan Contreras-Kirby (he/him, wig, hair and makeup designer); Sam Flipp (she/her, stage manager); Anna H. Gelman (she/her, production manager);  Lililo (Emma Ladji) (she/her, composer); Viviana Mendez (she/her, lip-sync choreographer); Catherine Miller (they/them, casting director);  Keith Parham (he/him, associate lighting designer);  Hayley E Wallenfeldt (any with respect, properties supervisor); Baylee Speer (any with respect, master electrician); Caitlyn Birmingham (she/her, assistant stage manager), and Claire Michalak (she/her, box office manager).  

WOMEN BEWARE WOMEN presented several problems for me, but these did not override its contributions: a stellar cast giving amazing performances and a wonderful production team. The flaw was that all this excellence exceeded itself – altogether too much of a good thing. Blue in the Right Way is unquestionably a theatre company to watch. Kevin Smith revealed himself as courageous and adventuresome; if Kevin can muster a soupçon of temperance Kevin can offer an invaluable addition to Chicago’s theatre scene.

WOMEN BEWARE WOMEN

at The Edge Theater

Running Wednesdays through Sundays through May 12