Displaying items by tag: Robert Falls

Holiday is a play written by Philip Barry in 1928 before the tragic stock market crash of 1929.  It has been made into two movies, most notably in 1938 starring Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn. This adaptation, artfully authored by Richard Greenberg, has brought a case study in the class system and its relationship with money and assets is not only thought-provoking but clever.  The use of modern idioms mixed with classic patter delivery of movies of the thirties and forties keeps the audience rapt awaiting the next joke or witticism to land.  The direction by Robert Falls is a translation of reticence and underlying suppressed emotion of a family possessing generational wealth on the upper east side of New York City. Falls delivers Greenberg’s words in a manner so true that the piece has a voyeuristic tone.

The play opens in the main modernized parlor of a Manhattan mansion so beautifully appointed that audible gasps could be heard throughout the audience. The scenic design by Walt Spangler is so spot on in depicting “Old Money” right down to the mallard decoys on the mantel that it transports everyone into the Seton family fortunes.  Lighting designer Amith Chandrashaker’s work baths the Seton family like a beautifully seated family portrait.  When the curtains are parted to allow daylight to seep into the parlor, it makes one question what time they arrived at the theatre.  It is in this opening scene that we meet the Seton family and guests.  Julia Seton (played by Molly Griggs) the compliant entitled daughter and her new beau, Johnny Case played with great range by Luigi Sottile. Linda Seton, the defiant sibling seeking to change the world and identify with the residents and children of Red Hook played with just the right mixture of outrage and vulnerability by Bryce Gangel and Ned Seton (Wesley Taylor), the youngest namesake brother who has failed to measure up. And, the scion of the fortune, Edward Seton played with steely reserve by Jordan Lage who ensures “the equilibrium of the house is not disrupted” as one scene tells us.

The story unfolds as Julia is besotted with Johnny Case, a new beau met in a “spa”, and we watch her try to mold him into a man to join the family business after first making his own millions. Case ended up in the “spa” through an intervention by friends who realized he was working himself to misery. Being around the family and relations of Julia Johnny begins to reexamine his life’s purpose and path.  With a healthy dose of sarcasm from Linda and Ned we see wealth and privilege scoffed at as much as it is valued and revered by Julia.  Johnny is a ping pong ball in the family’s game of emotions and parlayed witticisms. We travel in time through a season of proposal and an engagement announcement to other reasons to celebrate. We visit the childhood traumas of a mother dying young of cancer with her dreams of being a prima ballerina dashed by Edward Seton and his insistence on the importance of an heir. Each child is a character study in the privilege and travails of the very wealthy.  Johnny Case, who is first viewed as a pawn in their family games goes through his own evolution and the realism of wealth, money and power. Wesley Taylor is the standout of a well guided and directed ensemble.  He plays Ned with such mirth, hilarity and tragic pain that one moment he has you laughing and the next on the verge of tears. Every scene he is in becomes pivotal.

The other unexpected “star” of this show is the scenic design and transition.  One moment you are in the parlor and then next act transported to the childhood nursery/playroom of memories styled by their mother.  It hardly seems possible but in almost a magical fable like scene change we end up in the parlor.  It’s a feat rarely seen on stage and every member of the design and stage management team needs to be aware that their contribution to this piece is pivotal, both literally and figuratively. The scenic design alone is a reason not to miss this show but go for the laughs and beautiful line delivery such as “Alexa stop the joy”.  Modern, relatable and beautifully delivered.

There’s nothing not to love about Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn but Robert Fall’s direction of these talents honor this beautifully written adaptation which is a mini-Holiday for anyone who attends.

HOLIDAY, now playing at the Goodman’s Albert Theatre in Chicago through March 1, 2026.

https://www.goodmantheatre.org for ticket and performance time information.

Mary Beth Euker is a founding director of Cricket Theatre Company in Lake Zurich, Illinois, has appeared in shows at Devonshire Theatre in Skokie and Woodstock Opera House and directs in Lake Zurich at various schools and for Cricket.

*UPDATE - Extended through March 8th

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Safe to say Steppenwolf’s revival of Peter Shaffer’s Amadeus is “fetes and fireworks”. Robert Falls makes his directorial debut at Steppenwolf after recently retiring from his role as Goodman Theatre artistic director. To say his new production of Amadeus makes a splash would be an understatement. Falls brings his signature vision to the still new in-the-round stage at Steppenwolf for a thrilling evening of theatre.

Even in the so-called peak of Broadway attendance, very few straight plays ran for three months let alone three years. Amadeus opened on Broadway in 1980 starring Ian McKellen, Jane Seymour and Tim Curry (as Mozart) where it ran for three years. It went on to win several Tonys and was eventually adapted into an Academy Award winning film in 1984. Since plays don’t last long on Broadway, it begs the question: what about Peter Schaffer’s play resonated with audiences? The film has also attracted a considerable cult following.

Pete Shaffer uses the rivalry between Italian composer Antonio Salieri and young Mozart as an allegory for professional jealousy and intergenerational conflict. The dastardly Salieri is played by Steppenwolf ensemble member Ian Barford while his counterpart is played by David Darrow. Though Shaffer admits to inventing many of the details of his play, his version turns the music world of 1700s Europe into a kind of rock ‘n roll. When we think of the classic composers, we think of them as we think of their music–mild, inoffensive, something to put on in the background to get work done. Amadeus portrays Mozart as an enfant terrible: a womanizer and drunkard. His wild lifestyle is likely what led to his most important operas, even if they were mostly lighthearted comedies. Shaffer makes classical music cool by bending the lore to fit his own artistic agenda.

David Darrow, Jaye Ladymore and ensemble member Ian Barford in Steppenwolf Theatre Company’s production of Amadeus.

Robert Falls’ revival feels as fresh as when it opened over 40 years ago. While the movie is known for lavish sets and costumes, Steppenwolf’s production is somewhat modest. Minimalism only adds to the cool factor here. One of Falls’ innumerable talents as a director is creating visual splendor. Together with longtime scenic collaborator Todd Rosenthal, Falls’ shows audiences countless moments of theatrical magic. Steppenwolf’s choice to present this play in the round is a wise one that affords the cast an opportunity to move in and around the audience.

Falls has gathered a wonderful cast. While the headliner here is Mozart, the real star of the show is Salieri. The villain begins the show as the main character and in his lengthy confession we see he is more often the tormented one even though he’s in the position of power. Barford’s performance is less delicate than how this part has traditionally been approached. His hulking figure in period dress only adds to his threatening persona that feels more masculine than intellectual. Darrow on the other hand plays the clown well in the first act but leaves audiences devastated by the conclusion. His indefatigable energy is a lot of fun to watch.

Steppenwolf’s Amadeus is as exciting as the news that Robert Falls switched houses to direct it. In many ways it feels way less stuffy than some of his most impressive work at Goodman. Though this production is basically perfect, there’s a bit of grit left on it and it’s all the better for it.

*Extended through January 25th

Robert Falls is back! Well, for a short time at least to direct his adaptation of Anton Chekhov’s “The Cherry Orchard.” Falls retired as the Goodman Theatre artistic director in 2022, but his productions of Chekhov’s classics have become events to anticipate. “The Cherry Orchard” is the endcap to Falls’ Chekhov series that began with ‘Three Sisters’ and has included “The Seagull” and “Uncle Vanya”. Each a definitive production that was met with critical acclaim. “The Cherry Orchard” is no exception, in fact, it might even be his best.

“The Cherry Orchard” premiered in Moscow in 1904, just a few decades after the end of serfdom in Russia. The story follows Lyubov Ranevskaya (Kate Fry) as she returns to her family’s estate after years of living abroad. The estate has fallen into disrepair and unless the taxes are paid, Lyubov is certain to lose the property her family has held onto for centuries. Her childhood friend, a former serf, Yermolai Lopakhin (Kareem Bandealy) eagerly awaits her return, and offers her family solutions that would allow them to keep the estate. It’s also implied Yemolai is in love with Lyubov. As with any Chekhov play, the lives of the serving class are also highlighted in all their unrequited loves and general discontent.

This “The Cherry Orchard” is a veritable who’s who of the Chicago theatre scene. Kate Fry plays Lyubov with an almost manic vacillation between childlike naiveté and a crazed addict. Her powers are immediately illuminated from the moment she walks on stage. Regular Goodman player Amanda Drinkall plays the maid Dunyasha. Her giddy and absurd physical humor brings a much-needed sense of humor to a role that doesn’t offer much kindness to the family accountant Semyon—played with as much physical humor but perhaps more guttural pathos by Will Allan. Chicago stage favorite Janet Ulrich Brooks returns with another wonderful performance as the governess/trickster Charlotta. Her sleight of hand magic tricks make you wonder if she really is magic after all. Perhaps nobody is as affective as Francis Guinan as the servant Firs, who may just be the last vestige of serfdom on the property. The pottering body language and stammering delivery are devastating.

Adding to the roster of Chicago theatre staples, set designer Todd Rosenthal’s staging is nothing short of epic. There’s a striking blend of minimalism mixed with the kind of over-the-top spectacle that Goodman audiences expect. While it’s not always a necessity to have larger than life sets, some occasions just call for it and a theatrical event like this is fitting to pull out all the stops. Costumes by Ana Kuzmanic play nicely against Rosenthal’s backdrop.

If you’re going to see a classic, the team behind “The Cherry Orchard” is your best bet. Robert Falls has had an influential career turning Goodman Theatre into the institution it is today and Chicago audiences will likely continue to be enchanted by his work for years to come. His own adaptation of “The Cherry Orchard” digs deep on the idea of what it means to be free. It also showcases some terrific performances from some of Chicago’s most beloved performers. This production feels like a love letter to the theater that made Robert Falls the mastermind Chicago has come to expect. You won’t be quick to forget this epic night at the theatre.

 Through April 30 at Goodman Theatre. 170 N Dearborn. www.goodmantheatre.org.

A title like “Swing State” is certainly provocative and might suggest exactly what Rebecca Gilman’s new play is about, but oddly enough it’s not about an election. Two of Chicago’s best actresses; Mary Beth Fisher and Kristen Fitzgerald join director Robert Falls in this much-anticipated production at Goodman Theatre. Chicago-based playwright Rebecca Gilman has had a long history of collaborating with Goodman, Robert Falls and Mary Beth Fisher. This is the tenth play they’ve produced, and many have been directed by Falls and, or starred Fisher. “Swing State” is another riveting script from the Pulitzer-nominated playwright.

Somewhere on the driftless land of Wisconsin, recently widowed Peg (Mary Beth Fisher) lives alone on a large patch of remnant prairie land. When a box of old tools and a gun go missing from Peg’s barn, she enlists the sheriff (Kristen Fitzgerald) and her well-meaning but dopey deputy Dani (Anne E Thompson). They suspect a community “screw-up” named Ryan (Bubba Weiler) who Peg and her late husband had mentored. Though Peg doesn’t want to pursue it, the sheriff is relentless.

Despite its fast moving 95-minute runtime, “Swing State” takes a few hours to digest. What Gilman exceeds at is taking broad political issues and distilling them through the individual experience. Much of her parallels are drawn through metaphor. The prairie land Peg so meticulously tends to represent an uncorrupted way of life vanishing in the American heartland. Gilman also shines a light on the police ineptitude and cruelty running rampant in smalltown Midwestern communities.

Mary Beth Fisher embodies the beleaguered Peg. Her physicality tells an entire story without saying a word. Though, it’s in a single, lengthy monolog in which she effortlessly flows through the realm of emotions that she gets to the real depths of her character. Kristen Fitzgerald is also a thundering presence as the zealous smalltown sheriff, Kris. It’s clear Fitzgerald has a good understanding of the kind of corrupting ignorance plaguing our justice system. While neither character is without flaws, these two actresses have approached their roles with compassion, which serves the nuances of the ending.

“Swing State” is a shocking story that builds through quiet, often two-person scenes. Gilman does well to make her point while also staying true to her own life experiences. The title suggests that the rural Midwest is still a swayable population. In that idea alone the script points toward optimism. Peg’s character journey also suggests optimism even if the ending might seem unsettling. This is an honest play about the types of people you might meet in a small Midwestern community. There may not be an election in the play, but its looming consequences have colored every aspect of Gilman’s richly drawn world.

Through November 13^th at Goodman Theatre. 170 N Dearborn St. www.goodmantheatre.org

Goodman Theatre’s staging of The Winter’s Tale, loaded with spectacle, would have seemed ridiculous and even unanchored 20 years ago. But with the surging popularity of those magical realms in the movies of the Marvel Universe – Black Panther, Captain Marvel, Avengers: Endgame - where characters die, then return, and are repeatedly transformed – well, director Robert Fall’s almost (but not quite) overwrought effort fits our times perfectly.

The Winter’s Tale was one of Shakespeare final works, and it is a unique form (perhaps why it is produced less often), neither a comedy nor a tragedy, but devised as a romance.
Unlike the powerful plays that are channeled intellectually to our emotions through telling dialog, as in the tragic Hamlet or comic Taming of the Shrew, The Winter’s Tale was meant as a theatrical confection, and entertains us more than it sways us.

In Goodman Theatre’s magnificent production, director Robert Falls has given us spectacle – five acts delivered as a series of elegant vignettes, presenting different facets of Shakespeare’s spin on several forms: Tragedy, Greek Drama, Pastoral Romance, Comedy & Clowning. At first, I admit I was suspicious of it all, wondering whether Goodman had bankrolled an overproduced folly. But by degrees I came to appreciate Falls' vision, and fell for it.

The Winter’s Tale opens with a brewing tragedy among royals – the deeply bonded kings of Bohemia and Sicilia are like brothers, who have a falling out, leading to tragic consequences and suffering. But Shakespeare uses the stuff of this tragedy as a formula: we are meant to behold the key points of very bad things happening.

For this, Falls puts the cast in contemporary evening wear and paper crowns – suggesting through what is almost a cliché in contemporary Shakespeare style, that this is a throwaway tragedy. The cast delivers it’s Elizabethan dialog persuasively. But the rather convoluted sequence of events is more like an exaggerated operatic storyline, than compelling trough of sorrow.

In a nutshell, Leontes (Dan Donohue - he was Scar in Lion King!) King of Sicilia becomes jealous of his pregnant wife Hermione (Kate Fry) and of his dearest friend, Polixenes (Nathan Hosner), the King of Bohemia, who he deems are cheating on him. Leontes shifts with inexplicable rapidity from bosom buddy to enraged adversary, though friends and advisers try to soothe him. Hermione delivers the baby, and Leontes puts her on trial, and sends the infant girl to die in the wilderness – of Bohemia. Oh and his young son Mamillius (Charlie Herman) dies, leaving Leontes heirless.

Subsequent scenes, including the trial of Hermione, now are given the look of Greek drama, or, Game of Thrones as suggested by the costume of Leontes steward, Paulina (Christiana Clark is a dramatic force). Hermione’s fate is sealed by Leontes' edict, but an appeal is made to consult the Oracle at Delphos on whether his jealousy is misplaced.

The play transitions a more pastoral setting, in wilds of the Kingdom of Bohemia, where the baby in the basket is threatened by a bear – played with convincing ferociousness by Mark Lancaster. The baby is saved when the bear chases after someone else (“Exit, pursued by bear” is the script line).

The curtain falls. And when it rises, we are greeted by a transitional interlude, with the character Time and letting us know in metered verse the clock has moved forward 16 years. This precious scene is like an elaborate decorative embellishment in an antiquarian book, letting us know we are entering a new episode.

The next parts of the play brings us to the pastoral setting of the Kingdom of Bohemia, and Falls gives us celebratory scenes following a sheep shearing, with bales of wool stacked high, and ala Nutcracker, a giant sheep and sheers. Against the setting of plenty we meet the surviving infant, Perdita (Chloe Baldwin) now a teenaged girl, and her boyfriend, Florizel (Xavier Bluell, who brings a real freshness and spark to his role). We are greeted by delightful scenes, and eventually the play makes it’s way back to the Kingdom of Sicilia, for a magical resolution in which all is forgiven, though not all live happily ever after.

For Shakespeare fans this production of a rarity makes The Winter’s Tale must viewing. But anyone who comes will find themselves richly rewarded. It runs through June 9 at Goodman Theatre.

Stacy Keach storms the stage for one of the best performances ever, as he takes on the role of author Earnest Hemingway in Pamplona at Goodman Theatre.

This world premier at Goodman was originally planned for Spring 2017, but Keach fell ill opening night and the full run was suspended until now. Clearly the delay has only enhanced his delivery, as Keach commands our non-stop attention in this one-act by Jim McGrath.

Set in 1959, we meet Hemingway holed up in a hotel (it would be the Hotel Quintana) in Pamplona, Spain – the site of the famous running of the bulls – faced with writers block as he struggles to finish a 90,000-word piece on bull fighting for Life magazine. Anyone who has been challenged in writing will recognize how playwright Jim McGrath captures those patterns of distraction and stimulation used to release the story.

Hemingway was an accomplished journalist who very well knew how to pound out the words on deadline. But in the lonelier pursuit of making art, it’s a different matter.

Hemingway indeed struggled to complete his first creative works and determined to let the pressure build until the real work came - ultimately yielding a new style if fiction writing, and a model for stylish manliness that American males widely adopted down to his haircut and sweaters.

In Pamplona, Hemingway tries to boost himself by reading aloud his letter thanking the Nobel Prize Committee for the 1954 award he received following publication of The Old Man and the Sea. He plays loud swing and jazz on the radio and phonograph. His back pain distracts him, and he inventories his bottles of prescription drugs, finding the one for pain. He considers taking a drink but stays away, knowing that will lead him astray – he has asked hotel staff not to bring him liquor.

Though Keach works alone on the stage, there are several characters introduced via his phone and sounding through the walls of his room – further distractions from his work. His lawyer calls with the news of taxes due. The hotel desk clerk calls frequently, despite orders that Hemingway not be disturbed, as a guest in the next room repeatedly complains of noise. On one level, the plot of the play revolves around that unseen and unnamed guest. We later learn he had specifically requested the room next to Hemingway. Who is this unseen force messing with Hemingway’s mind?

By injecting this abstraction into the play, McGrath transcends the level of a purely biopic storyline, just as Hemingway did with in his own works: beyond the literal surface of stories about an old fisherman, or a young matador, the characters are encountering their mortality and facing down death.

Keach and McGrath worked together for years on the development of this play, and it seems to embrace the continued scholarship into the forces that shaped and wound Hemingway’s outlook. So that audiences will have enough detail to follow, one-person plays by necessity have the performer delivering all their own background exposition – a requirement that may not always be in keeping with the character.

In this case, McGrath has balanced that demand well, and Keach captures the big blustery and frankly theatrical quality of Hemingway, who was by most accounts this blustery, larger than life figure we see on the stage. Hemingway's monologs of self-deprecation over his failed marriages and his neglect to aid his own ailing father, somehow seem natural, Keach convincingly makes Hemingway sound like he is "thinking aloud." (Keach also won a Golden Globe for playing the role of Hemingway in a 1988 TV mini-series.) 

Directed nimbly by Robert Falls, with sets by Kevin Depinet, Pamplona is a chance to see an actor truly in his element and delivering an enthralling performance. It runs through August 19 at the Goodman Theatre, and may be the very best show on stage in Chicago.

"In real life, you're exploited by the moneyed class and then you die." says Petra in Robert Falls' new production of 'An Enemy of the People' at Goodman Theatre. His adaptation of Ibsen's 1882 play, spends two and a half hours exploring the theme of freedom.

"An Enemy of the People" is set in an ambiguous time and place but the highly conceptualized world in which this production exists is familiar. In it, idealistic small-town Doctor Stockmann (Philip Earl Johnson) discovers the water supply is poisoned. Hoping to save the town, he's politically thwarted by his brother the mayor (Scott Jaeck).

Robert Falls adapted the script from a translation by Eleanor Marx-Aveling and it's got some teeth. As Arthur Miller adapted Ibsen's play in 1950 to fit the McCarthy era, Falls aims his at Trumpism. Despite some occasional lapses in subtlety, this version chugs along at an urgent pace. Some liberties are taken with Ibsen's script but, given the current political climate, the topical dialogue fuels the thrilling intensity. Even 130 years later, this play is still a warning.

The square-off between Philip Earl Johnson and Scott Jaeck for the town's soul is all too relevant. Johnson physically exhausts himself trying to scream the truth while a calm and dignified Jaeck lulls the townspeople into submission. They're both so convincing you're almost able to see both sides, which is precisely the danger. Many of the most provocative lines come from Petra played by Rebecca Hurd. Her performance is sincere and brings more depth to the character than just what's in the dialogue.

It's an event when Robert Falls produces a classic at Goodman. 'Enemy of the People' lives up to the hype. As he's done with Chekhov, Falls has a vision for these plays that is far from the faithful productions of yore. It's essential for directors to reinterpret these classics for new eras. It's how a younger generation will connect with Ibsen. This version is well designed and brightly colored. Almost too cheerful for the subject matter. The costumes will leave you unsure of the time period, but that's the point. Whatever the era, the costumes are chic and the sets are memorable. This isn't your average period piece melodrama.

This production is exciting from beginning to end. There's not a moment of dead air. The dialogue is fresh and mirrors the absurd hypocrisy of our times. There's a lot of lightness in this play, and it's not until afterward that the darkness of its themes settle in. That might be one of it's strongest assets, it's so engaging you forget how bleak the conclusion is. If you don't leave this play angry, there's probably something wrong with you.

Through April 15th at Goodman Theatre 170 North Dearborn. 312-443-5151

In 2010, Goodman Theatre Artistic Director adapted "The Seagull" by Chekhov. An all-star cast, a stellar script and unique staging made for a memorable production. For this season, Robert Falls returns Chekhov to the Goodman with a new adaptation of "Uncle Vanya" by Annie Baker. This production of "Uncle Vanya" could be seen as a companion piece to 2010's "The Seagull." There's a stylistic similarity and another all-star cast breathing new life into this classic work. 

Like any Chekhov play, "Uncle Vanya" is about the everyday boredom and sadness of bourgeois Russians living on a country estate. Vanya (Tim Hopper) and niece Sonya (Caroline Neff) have toiled away their youths keeping the estate afloat and subsidizing the academic career of Sonya's aging father Alexander (David Darlow). When Alexander and his much younger wife Yelena (Kristen Bush) decide to move in with Vanya, their simple lives reach confrontation. 

Chekhov has a knack for dynamic female characters. "Uncle Vanya" is no exception. Caroline Neff's performance as Sonya sneakily becomes the focal point. Neff infuses Baker's already modern dialogue with an almost tangible sense of emotion.  Playing off her in the role of Yelena is Kristin Bush. This character is complicated and cold but Bush deftly shifts between moods without ever losing her audience. 

Adapter Annie Baker won the Pulitzer in 2014 for her play "The Flick." Her interpretation of "Uncle Vanya" was based on a literal word-for-word translation as she wanted her version to sound as fresh to a modern American audience as the original Russian had in 1900. To that end, Baker is successful. The script is quiet, but the dialogue seamlessly flows into our century. There's a timelessness to the entire production. Certain conventions, costumes and set pieces span generations, yet are of no specific historic era.  This stylistic choice only reinforces the ever-relevant themes of Chekhov's complex works. 

"Uncle Vanya" can neither be described as a comedy or a drama. There are moments of lightness and even dark humor, but overall the play is not particularly funny. On the other hand, while there's a well of unhappiness just beneath the surface, nothing truly cataclysmic happens. In the end, Chekhov makes his nihilistic point that perhaps none of us are happy and that death is the only respite we'll know. 

Through March 19th at Goodman Theatre. 170 N Dearborn St. 312-443-3800