Displaying items by tag: Alex Madda

Everybody dies. In fact, Somebody will die very soon. That is not only reality, but also the premise of Everybody, a contemporary take on the Medieval morality play, Everyman. Each night, Somebody will be chosen randomly from the cast to go on the final journey. According to the press materials, this means there are 120 permutations of the cast list, chosen by lottery from a group of actors of different genders, ages and races. For this to happen, the actors playing Somebody have learned all of the lines. In Everyman, first published in 1508, a man is called to account for his life by Death, on orders from God, though he is allowed to bring a companion on the journey to his reckoning. Everyman asks a number of allegorical characters to accompany him, but they all balk, except Good Deeds, which is the only thing that goes with him to the grave. But this is not that play, as the extremely officious and informative Usher tells us. Brown Paper Box Co.’s regional premiere of Branden Jacobs-Jenkins’s Everybody is an engaging, often clever, reflection on what it means to live, and a reminder that Death will come for us all and now is a good time to think about how we are living our lives.

Despite the Usher’s assurance that we are not watching Everyman, Jacobs-Jenkin’s play adheres pretty closely to the source material in structure, except that Good Deeds are nowhere to be found (though Evil is there to the end), which makes the moral a bit less comforting. The reason may lie in the Buddhist origins of the source material, which this reviewer was unaware of until the Usher mentioned it. The play begins, as the original, with “God’s” frustration at the disintegration of humanity. The quotations are added by the actors every time God is mentioned. Death in turn is frustrated at having to figure out what exactly God wants, though he does figure it out, explaining to Somebody that God demands that they go with him, never to return, and prepare an accounting of their life’s work. Somebody is rightfully flustered by this assignment, as so much of their life has slipped from memory and God and Death have not prepared them for this moment. All of this happens before the plot actually gets set in motion with the selection of roles via lottery. The actor chosen to portray Everybody must take the ominous journey to the grave and God’s reckoning, and, as one would expect, it is a grueling and painful journey. But, for the evening, it is somebody else’s journey, so the audience can just sit back and enjoy.

Erin Shea Brady does not shirk from the meta-theatricality of the script. We are in a theater, as we are often reminded, and roles can be cast randomly. This conceit requires absolute commitment from the cast, and they throw themselves into their shifting parts wholeheartedly. The set by Evan Frank offers hardly any place to hide at the outset, and even less at the end. Samantha Corn’s costumes reinforce the allegorical nature of the characters and allow the actors to slip into their different parts. Intimacy Designer Charlie Baker deserves mention for easing the actors into an uncomfortably vulnerable encounter with Love. Sound designer Blake Cordell reinforces the otherworldly proceedings and choreographer Mollyanne Nunn contributes a real danse macabre. Ultimately, because the setting is minimal, it’s all on the performers.

Chelsea David, as guide, catalyst and comforter (Usher/God/Understanding) does a remarkable job ushering both audience and actors, delivering God’s insecure fury at the mess of humanity, and finally as a compassionate Understanding releasing Everybody to their death. David nearly conquers the streams of words she is tasked with through sheer force of will; this is to say that in lesser hands, there may have been a lot more looking at watches in the opening. She also makes it all look effortless. Kenny the Bearded is perfect as the sometimes petulant, always bombastic, and strangely sympathetic Death. Nora Fox plays Time with the certainty of youth, and just the right amount of youthful ‘tude. As neglected Love, Tyler Anthony Smith balances wounded ego, cruelty and ultimately touching loyalty as he demands abnegation from Everybody in return for his presence. The rest of the cast will presumably take turns at the other roles in the play. On the night being reported here, Alys Dickerson made the journey from terrified disbelief to calm resignation feel as wrenching as Everybody’s slow realization of the hopelessness of her situation would. Donovan Session was hilariously fickle as Friendship in this age can be, running through reasons why Everybody might feel depressed, commenting on their many passing connections (how many times they must have liked each other on Facebook), and swearing to stay with her to Hell and back, back being the operative word. Cousin (Hal Cosentino) and Kinship (Francesca Sobrer) offered enough comfort to make their rejections all the more painful. As Stuff, Alex Madda relished her role in ruining another human. The actors returned at the end to play Understanding’s team of Strength, the Five Senses, Beauty and Everybody’s Mind. No need to mention that these attributes fade as Everybody enters the grave.

There are a lot of pointed observations in Everybody about the way humans find to avoid real connections and dodge responsibility for others and the world, but despite all of the cleverness, Branden Jacobs-Jenkins does not seem to have a firm handle on the point of the journey. Unless that is the point. Despite the shortcomings of the destination, Everybody’s journey does remind us to perhaps be a bit more conscious of our lives and the people that pass through them. Director Erin Shea Brady and her game team of actors and designers, led by the indefatigable Chelsea David, have created an immersive and thought-provoking Everyman for the internet age. Though the play sometimes wanders into the philosophical weeds, the sincerity of the company in trying to untangle the mysteries and meanings of this existential journey, and Everybody’s dawning consciousness, is worth at least one visit.

Everybody, presented by Brown Paper Box Co., runs through August 12 at the Buena at Pride Arts Center, 4147 N. Broadway, Chicago. For tickets and information visit www.BrownPaperBox.org and https://dime.io/events/EVERYBODY.

As my sidekick for the evening – himself a theater and sketch comedy guy – and I entered Stage 773’s Cab Theater on Saturday to see Cupid Has a Heart On, we were greeted by smiley, bubbly folks who I guessed were cast members of the show. I turned out to be right. I said to my pal, “Looks like we’ll be spending an evening with grown-up theater kids, huh?” I’d turn out to be right about that, too.
The venue’s got a cabaret feel – black all around; red Naugahyde, too; swanky and dark like a Saturday night. We crossed the stage and found seats in the far corner, back behind the accompanist and his keyboard. Turns out the pianist was also the show’s director, Brian Posen. His playing throughout the show was rollicking and rambunctious – very much an old-timey lounge feel to fit the surroundings – and Posen even took part in a number about himself, as the lonely piano player, later in the evening. The music he and the cast have written and performed was really something, bouncing from one genre to the next and always played with absolute musicianship. But a bit of advice for those who see the show – while the red pleather booth behind the piano was plenty comfortable and afforded a nice view, the sound of the keys often drowned out the performers’ vocals.

The songs and sketches that made up the show were fun, though I’m still not sure who the target audience was. The baby boomers in the crowd laughed the loudest, while much of the content seemed to be about those much younger than middle age, about the age of the millennials who are the show’s actors and singers. Some material was timeless, while some felt like it had been written more recently to update this, Chicago’s longest running comedy show. I, myself, did not feel like I was the target audience. Perhaps I’m too jaded or too cynical, unable to be shocked by much in these frenetic and chaotic days. Or maybe I just needed more than the one drink I had at the bar to loosen me up enough to be shocked.

Because the content of the show was meant to shock. The songs were mostly about the things we don’t speak of – the sexual taboos, the not-so-sexy urges, the bad relationships gone worse, the crap that makes life so sexy sometimes and so crappy at others. From UTIs to lactose intolerance, from failed attempts at self-pleasure to failed attempts to resist booty calls, from the fact that even our parents do it to a duet about booty, the songs hit on the stuff we think and feel and maybe even talk about, but very rarely drag onstage. But once onstage, the show’s performers didn’t hold back.
And that was the real pleasure of the evening – seeing these really gifted singers and comedians give it their all. Most all of them accompanied themselves or others with guitars or ukuleles at some point (one tune found SIX guitars being strummed while the logistics of a sixsome were discussed). And all of them can sing their booties off, both as lead vocalists and harmonists. But it was the ensemble’s willingness to leave it all onstage that impressed me most. Clothes were removed. Bodies were contorted. Audience members were dragged onstage, or made a part of the show where they sat. While this audience member might not have been shocked, he had a smile on his face the whole time, impressed by the job the cast did.

Individual talents that made an impression on me were many, even as the cast worked well together. Di Billick – one of the pre-show greeters – stole most scenes she was in. Jake Feeny and Alex Madda added spunk to their fine vocals. Andy Orscheln was often found with a guitar in-hand, and always radiated how much he enjoyed performing. Katie Maggart’s girl-next-door charm nicely complimented the show’s more risqué moments. Chad Michael Innis was a standout – hilarious and insistent, all over the place. But the star, for me, was Marco Braun – another cast member milling around the audience before the show. A burly and bawdy Jonah Hill type, Braun captured our focus whenever he was onstage with his beaming smile, his (oft-unclothed) physique, and his irresistible presence.
So, no matter my personal reaction to the material, I had a good time watching a troupe of gifted entertainers deliver it. For those who are more easily shocked than I am, then you’ll love letting these folks shock. And for those who want to support our city’s gifted entertainers, you can find them in the Cab theater at Stage 773 every Saturday at 8pm.

It turns out I did spend my Saturday evening learning what happens when those eager, energetic, and talented theater kids we all knew in school turn into grownups. They become eager, energetic, and talented performers who put on a hell of a show. And Chicago’s theater and comedy communities – and those who enjoy the shows they put on – are lucky to have them.