Displaying items by tag: Christopher Meister

I like theatre that’s deep, thoughtful, angsty. There’s much to be said for a play providing undemanding escape, but I prefer to challenge my mind, to make me think. And THE LOWER DEPTHS, as adapted by Grayson Kennedy for Gwydion Theatre Company, certainly did that. Don’t see this alone – you’ll want to talk about it afterward. And do not forget to take your Prozac!

The play is the second in Gwydion Theatre's "Season of Class", exploring classism in society. THE LOWER DEPTHS, written in 1902, explores themes of truth vs. illusion, hope vs. despair, through characters like a thief, a prostitute, and an alcoholic actor in a dreary flophouse on the Volga. The central conflict emerges with the arrival of a mysterious tramp who offers hope through stories and advice. However, hope cannot long survive the lodgers’ perpetually bewailing their travails and vicissitudes.

I was initially anxious about how such a large cast (13!) could operate in the confined space of Chopin Theatre. I personally love Chicago’s singular streetfront theatres, boasting perhaps 50 seats and 200-300 square feet of stage space. See, I like to be immersed in the players’ pheromone cloud, perhaps even bespattered with various bodily fluids.

Y’know, reading back over that, it doesn’t sound very inviting, but trust me on this. And trust Chicago as well – Gwydion is oner of the myriad smaller companies that showcase the multitude of superlative actors in this town. In decades of attending these storefront venues I’ve seen plays I didn’t like, I’ve been critical of some production decisions, but very seldom are the actors themselves disappointing. We are very fortunate here in Chicago. I only wish I could believe these professionals are earning paychecks commensurate with their skill.

Where was I? Oh yes, big cast; and I find myself unable to single out the players of individual characters. I always try in these reviews to praise each actor on their individual performance but between their sheer numbers and the peculiarities of Russian names I can but name the cast and beg the actors’ forgiveness:

Alex Levy (Vaska Pepel); Katherine Schwartz (Vasilisa Karpovna); Matt Mitchell (Mikahil Kostilyoff); Brynn Aaronson (Natasha Karpovna); Tommy Thams (Andrei Mitritch Kleshtch); Hannah Freund (Anna Kleshtch); Christopher Meister (Abram Medviedeff);Bryan Breau (The Baron); Evan Bradford (The Actor); John Nicholson (Satine); Howard Raik (Luka); Maddie Hillock (Kvashnya); Abraham Deitz-Green (Alyoshka); Maya Moreau (Swing); Grayson Kennedy  (Swing).

If I’m totally honest (and I owe this stellar troupe that much), even as it was playing, I couldn’t keep track of which character was who. To my relief, this did not interfere with my appreciation of the play and the performances, as it is actually in keeping with the theme of the play. THE LOWER DEPTHS tends to undermine the individuality of the characters: they are emulsified into a slurry of Poor People, faceless and nameless. In this THE LOWER DEPTHS mirrors the attitudes of our Administration: they’re po’ folks, not actual people with real needs and feelings.

Adapted by Maxim Gorky, he was more interested in the characters than in creating a formal plot. There’s no linear sense to the situations portrayed – a woman is dying; the landlord is heartless; everyone’s having an affair with someone – but these are only separate instances in their overall wretchedness. Tellingly, none of them acknowledge any kinship in their tribulations; no one ever says, ‘yeah, I know what that’s like’ or ‘something like that happened to me once’. Thus, while society depersonalizes them, each isolates themself within the siloes of their personal experiences.

Luka, an elderly tramp, arrives with a philosophy of consolation and a better life. Reactions to this message - this theme of harsh truth versus the comforting lie - pervades the play and divides the inhabitants into opposing camps of the hopeful and the realists. Most of them choose to deceive themselves rather than acknowledge the bleak reality of their condition, leading inevitably to violence and death.

Oi! I’m supposed to be encouraging you to see this play, but you’d need to be, like me, a real angst enthusiast to be attracted by my description! But if you do like exploring the depths of desolation; the frequency of forlornness; the drama of dreariness … then THE LOWER DEPTHS is the play for you!

The production team included its artistic directors Tommy Thams and Grayson Kennedy and was drawn largely from Gwidion company members. Scenic Designer Hayley Wellenfeldt and Morgan Kinglsey created a monochromatic and versatile set with Lighting Designer Sam Bessler effectively defining scenes and characters. Costume Designers Cindy Moon and Grace Weir differentiated the subtle differences between, say, the actor and the Baron. Sound Designer Rick Reid sourced authentic Russian period music while Stage Manager Katie Espinoza pulled it all together and put it out there fluidly.

The Lower Depths is the first time in Russian literature that society’s outcasts took center stage in a drama. In claiming importance and humanity for a class that Gorky described as “ex-people” and “creatures who were once men,” he moved Russian drama into the political and social arena that would lead to revolution. May that purpose prevail in our own trying times!

THE LOWER DEPTHS plays at Chopin Theatre through February 28 - https://chopintheatre.com/.

RECOMMENDED

This review is proudly shared with our friends at www.TheatreInChicago.com. 

Court Theatre’s world premiere of Berlin, adapted by Mickle Maher from Jason Lutes’ monumental graphic novel, is a breathtaking achievement. Directed with precision and deep sensitivity by Charles Newell, Berlin brings the chaos and beauty of Weimar-era Germany to stunning life on stage, rendered in an unforgettable 1930s noir style.

Lutes spent two decades crafting his sprawling graphic epic, and it’s clear Maher and Newell approached this adaptation with profound respect. The production’s black, white, and grey palette—designed by scenic designer John Culbert, lighting designer Keith Parham, and costume designer Jacqueline Firkins—immerses the audience in a city teetering on the edge of catastrophe. Every shadow and seam speak volumes, creating a world that feels both immediate and mythic.

Raven Whitley leads the ensemble as Marthe Muller, capturing a young woman’s vulnerability and fierce independence with magnetic grace. Tim Decker’s Kurt Severing carries the weary idealism of a journalist witnessing democracy’s slow death, while Ellie Duffey delivers a moving performance as the idealistic Silvia Braun. Elizabeth Laidlaw is harrowing as both Gudrun Braun and Adolf Hitler, offering a brutal glimpse into rising fascism.

Special mention must be made of Julia Rhoads’ fluid, expressive movement direction, which underscores the sense of a city swirling with ideas, danger, and desire. Sammi Grant’s expert vocal and dialect coaching ensures every character’s voice feels authentic—from Joseph Goebbels’ oily charisma (a chilling performance by Terry Bell) to the many Berliners struggling to survive an unraveling world.

Kate Collins, Mo Shipley, Jack Doherty, Guy Van Swearingen, Christopher Meister, Molly Hernandez, and Brandon Ruiter round out the exceptional ensemble, each carving out vivid portraits of citizens caught in history’s gears.

Watching Berlin today mirrors America’s turbulent political landscape with haunting clarity. From surging extremism to collapsing civil discourse, from journalism under siege to widening economic divides—these echoes ring too close to home. Berlin is more than historical; it is an urgent warning, a desperate plea, and a piercing call for vigilance.

Newell’s production reminds us that civilizations don’t collapse with a bang—they decay slowly, invisibly. Each small compromise, each overlooked lie, each quiet injustice piles up until the ground gives way beneath us. By then, we’ve sealed our fate, having watched our undoing unfold in slow motion.

Court Theatre hasn’t merely adapted a graphic novel—they’ve unleashed a theatrical thunderbolt. Under Newell’s visionary direction, Berlin transforms into something rare and electric: a defining moment of Chicago theatre that will be talked about for years to come. In a time when we desperately need art that matters, Berlin delivers with a punch that leaves you breathless.

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED                                                                                                                                                              

When: Extended through MAY 18TH

Where: Court Theatre, 5535 S. Ellis Ave.

Running time: 2 hours, 30 minutes 15-minute intermission

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