Displaying items by tag: Arthur Miller

Arthur Miller’s perennial classic, ‘A View from the Bridge’, is revived in a faithful production at Shattered Globe Theater. Under the direction of Lou Contey, a cast of familiar Shattered Globe ensemble and a few new faces bring this powder keg of a tale to their stage for the first time since the 1990s.

Every few years, a landmark production of ‘A View from the Bridge’ comes—Chicagoans will remember Ivo Van Hove’s arresting production imported by Goodman in 2017. However, if that’s the only version you’ve seen, you owe it to yourself to see it staged in the way Arthur Miller intended.

Though it wasn’t exactly a smash hit when it debuted on Broadway in 1955, it was through subsequent rewrites and notable revivals that ‘A View from the Bridge’ became nearly as popular as more seminal Miller works like ‘The Crucible’ and ‘Death of a Salesman.’ Perhaps it’s produced so often because its themes surrounding immigration and prejudice remain relevant.

‘A View from the Bridge’ is about a longshoreman, Eddie Carbone (Scott Aiello), and his wife Beatrice (Eileen Niccolai), and their adopted niece Catherine (Isabelle Muthiah). Life is great for the working-class Brooklyn family until their distant relatives from Italy come to stay with them illegally. When a relationship starts to bud between immigrant Rodolpho (Harrison Weger) and Catherine, Eddie’s inappropriate affection for his niece is called into question.

This play has always been a star-turning vehicle for actresses playing Catherine. Scarlett Johanson and Brittany Murphy both took home Tonys for the role. However, Shattered Globe ensemble member Eileen Niccolai’s compelling performance as Beatrice brings the part of the pseudo-cuckolded wife into sharper focus. Niccolai’s Beatrice is vulnerable and needy; she knows her husband isn’t perfect, but he’s all she’s got. Ultimately, she’s the victim of this tragic story. There’s something so fragile about Niccolai’s interpretation.

Inventive staging by Shayna Patel puts the play in a set that looks like a boxing ring. It's a fitting locale for a play so centered around violence. The narrator is a lawyer and interjects an almost inhuman sense of foreboding doom about the Carbones throughout the play. In his view, and perhaps Miller’s greater view, society is so dysfunctional that it leads the lower classes to duke it out at the bottom. Unlike ‘The Crucible,’ Miller points out that having your name respected in the street is just machismo, especially when you’re not respectable.

Themes of toxic masculinity, immigration reform and family abuse are sadly more relevant now than in the 1950s, and the enduring popularity of ‘View from the Bridge’ should inspire activism.

Shattered Globe is one of Chicago’s best and longest-running storefront theatres and it’s easy to see why. Their briskly paced production of ‘A View From the Bridge’ is wonderfully acted, beautifully staged and very traditional. If you like classic American plays, this is the one to see.

Through October 21 at Shattered Globe Theatre at Theater Wit. 1229 W Belmont, Chicago IL 60657 | 773-975-8150

Do not see THE CRUCIBLE to unwind after a hard week. Do not take a blind date to THE CRUCIBLE. If you couldn’t get tickets to Second City, do not attend THE CRUCIBLE as a backup. But in any other circumstances whatsoever, DO see THE CRUCIBLE at Invictus Theatre.

Even if you didn’t read it in school you’ve probably heard the story: Arthur Miller wrote THE CRUCIBLE in 1953 about the Salem Witch Trials of 1692-93 in protest against McCarthyism. It still holds relevance today: the struggle to maintain critical thought processes in response to inflammatory public hyperbole … oh, yeah. Been there, done that.

Even simply reading the play is disquieting; brought to life on the stage THE CRUCIBLE is gut-wrenching, especially when well-played. And at Invictus it is well-played indeed. To echo the Buzz Center Stage review of a recent production: ‘I have to keep reminding myself this is a storefront theatre.”

I adore Chicago’s tiny storefront theatres; seeing the play while sharing the cast’s pheromone cloud greatly enhances the experience for me. Invictus is among the tiniest, with only 50-odd seats. I was in the front row and nearly had an actor catapulted into my lap at least twice. Mounting THE CRUCIBLE on such a miniscule stage is courageous, to say the least, and for anyone else it would be foolhardy. For Invictus it’s just the latest instance of achieving the inconceivable and doing it brilliantly.

Credit must begin with Charles Askenaizer, Artistic Director of Invictus and Director of THE CRUCIBLE. It would be easy for the frenzied activity to degenerate into a general brouhaha, but Askenaizer keeps the action crisp and focused, allowing the primary actors to perform without dissolving into the fracas.

Of course, he had the finest materials to work with: the cast was outstanding, every one, from the leads to understudy Steve Connell stepping in as Francis Nurse.  Managing a cast of nineteen certainly demands assistance, ably provided by Assistant Director Donica Lynn, Production Manager Todd Henry Faulstich and Stage Manager Gabby Rooney. And Amber Wutke certainly had plenty to do as Fight/Intimacy Designer & Movement Choreographer!

L-R: Michaela Voit (Abigal Williams), Frank Nall (Giles Corey), Joseph Beal (Reverend Parris), Lea Grace Biwer (Betty Parris), Charlie Diaz (Reverend Hale), Mike Cherry (Thomas Putnam), Laura Coleman (Ann Putnam), Barbara Roeder Harris (Rebecca Nurse). Photo credit: Through Line Studios.

Costume Designer/Wardrobe Manager Jessie Gowens did a superb job, adding intriguing (and no doubt authentic) details onto the severe Puritan garb. I was fascinated by the wide quilted sleeves and the double rank of buttons on Deputy Governor Danforth’s coat. 

One of Scenic Designer Kevin Rolfs’ brilliant adaptations to the limited space backstage was to keep most of the cast on the stage throughout, only retiring to opposite rows of hard straight-backed chairs when leaving a scene. From there they could serve as a modified Greek chorus: singing, hollering and finger-pointing to remind us that this lunacy infects the entire town. 

Props Designer Sam Paulson, Sound Designer Petter Wahlback, Lighting Designer Chad Lussier and Box Office Manager Steve Nordmark round out a truly extraordinary team creating a truly phenomenal production. Bravo!

As noted, the cast was massive and though each individual played their part irreproachably I can only comment specifically on a few, whom I’ll introduce by telling the story.

We begin in the woods with a circle of young women being led in a primitive, frenzied dance by Caribbean slavewoman Tituba  (LaTorious R Givens). Tituba furtively slips a mysterious drink to Betty Parris (Lea Grace Biwer), who begins to rave and convulse until collapsing into a coma. The screams of the frightened girls attract her father The Reverend Parris (Joseph Beal), a preacher who is far more ambitious than spiritual; he is both panicked and outraged by the spectacle. The girls, fearing the Pastor, turn on Tituba, saying she cast a spell on the girl.

The pusillanimous rector is horrified to learn the story has spread like wildfire through the entire town, with a widespread conviction that Lucifer is afoot. Parris, unnerved by these slights to his (illusory) good name, summons witchcraft expert Reverend John Hale (Charlie Diaz), who insists to the end that nonesuch is operating in Salem.

Mark Pracht is amazing as John Proctor, the local farmer who manages to maintain his integrity. Proctor is a decent, though flawed, man who sincerely loves both his wife and his God but evades hypocrisy by seldom attending Parris’ church. Pracht reveals Proctor as intelligent and insightful enough to differentiate God from religion and to penetrate the disguise of ordainment, seeing the clergy – Parris in particular – for what they truly are. His loyal friend and fellow skeptic Giles Corey is brought vividly to life by Frank Nall.

Devon Carson plays Proctor’s wife Elizabeth so skillfully that we understand and sympathize with the subtle currents of her mind and her heart. She loves her husband dearly, but can’t resist using that love to torment him – as wives of that time, lacking other dominion, were wont to do. Carson gives us a full view of Elizabeth’s development and maturation over time. Excellent acting and superb direction let us literally see the moment when Tituba recognizes ‘I have power here, I can take control’, and deflects the accusations onto Abigail Williams (Michaela Voit). Likewise, we can clearly see Mary choosing the opposite course and deciding to take the blame on herself rather than give Mary up to the inquisitors.

 As we would say today, the recriminations, allegations, insinuations and accusations go viral and the whisper network renders them ever more specious and malicious. I ultimately lost track of who was accusing whom of what, and I suspect the characters did as well. The arrest of honest Goody [‘Goodwife’] Nurse, played by Barbara Roeder Harris, makes clear the situation has descended from outrageous to grotesque.

Into this bedlam struts Deputy Governor Danforth. Danforth is a self-righteous bastard, in love with his own limitless sovereignty and equating it to that of God himself. What Deputy Governor Danforth says, is. I purely loved James Turano in this role! which he plays with both vivacity and subtlety. Clearly Governor Danforth relishes the opportunity to flaunt his distinction: a prestigious trial with copious defendants to browbeat and countless openings for thundering, Scripture-laden speechification – what’s not to love? And Turano himself is clearly having a ball with the role. I had a word with him after the show where he confirmed, “it’s always fun being the villain.” 

So … this is pretty much it for my review, but if you’ll hang in with me I’d like to take a moment to wax philosophic on THE CRUCIBLE and what makes it a classic. Start with the title: a crucible is a vessel in a refining fire where precious substances are tested, purified, and strengthened. And indeed the trial demonstrated how our legal system has been strengthened by erecting safeguards: spouses need not testify against each other; the defendant is protected from self-incrimination [‘the Fifth’]; each litigant is represented by an advocate; hearsay is not admissible as evidence. Our system still clings, however, to the final decision on clemency resting with the governor rather than the judge. Deputy Governor Danforth shows us just how precarious this may be.

Miller wrote THE CRUCIBLE in 1953, in the midst of the McCarthy hearings and just eight years after the fall of the Nazi party, so peoples’ responses to an evil situation was a natural theme. Most discussions of THE CRUCIBLE assume the evil situation is the trials themselves, forgetting that Massachusetts was also in the midst of the terrifying French and Indian Wars. The Rev. George Burroughs writes of the Candlemas Massacres, ‘God is still manifesting his displeasure against this Land’; a sentiment with clear impact on the Salem Witch Trials. One wonders why Miller, himself traumatized by war and a harrowing political atmosphere, did not more fully examine the settlers’ traumas.

Debate continues over just what happened to the young girls in Salem, historically as well as in fiction. ‘Faking it’ is just too simplistic. Some have suggested ergot poisoning –  hallucinogenic mold in the bread – but then why only those particular girls?

Another, more plausible theory is a psychogenic disorder called mass conversion, in which anxiety, whatever its cause, is so extreme that they unconsciously convert their mental anguish to physical symptoms. The Salem populace was living under the strain of both a hideous and bloody war and, more to the point, the omnipresent threat of witchcraft; with equally dire risks of accusation and of being a target: “She killed my babies!” wails a townswoman. In mass conversion disorder, long-term stress converts messages from the brain to the muscles, expressing anxiety as twitching, shaking, garbled speech, and trance states.

This link to trauma is not demonstrated in Miller’s play. In the 1950s psychiatry was not well understood, particularly by the general public; the diagnosis of conversion disorder had not yet been described. Miller himself was also probably experiencing his own anxiety symptoms from the chronic stressors of WWI, the economic collapse following it, and the persecutory atmosphere generated by McCarthyism. He may have sought to relieve his anxiety symptoms by creating THE CRUCIBLE – as artists are wont to do.

Thanks for hanging in with me in my digression, but let me not forget the paramount message: THE CRUCIBLE IS VERY HIGHLY RECOMMENDED! Should you miss this production (playing through June 11 at Reginald Vaughn Theatre 1106 W Thorndale Ave in Chicago), first kick yourself, then remember that Invictus is a safe bet for quality theatre, whatever is playing.

From the Director’s Note:

I couldn’t help thinking of Pastor Martin Niemoller’s quote from his reflections on the Holocaust:

First they came for the socialists, but I did not speak out – because I was not a socialist

Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out – because I was not a trade unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out – because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me – and there was no one left to speak for me.

One by one, the town is ‘purified of witches’ until cows wander aimlessly along the roads and untended crops rot in the fields. Soon there is no one left to speak out about the injustices or take the time to rationally think about the accusations made. Soon all that is left are empty chairs and silence.

The Burn, a lively tale of a high school drama class putting on Arthur Miller’s The Crucible, is spectacularly good. The script by Philip Dawkins was commissioned for the Steppenwolf’s Theatre’s Young Adult Theater Program. But this in no way diminishes it as a creative work – it is far, far more than an educational theater program.

Dawkins brings us four students and a teacher, introducing at first just the social surface, gradually individualizing them, and masterfully drilling down into the characters to reveal what makes each of them tick.

The Burn operates on several levels at once. It provides a portrait of the battleground educators face in classes of students with limited attention spans – a contemporary Blackboard Jungle. These young people display the confidence spawned by that thin yet wide breadth of knowledge so readily garnered online.

The Burn also addresses the perpetual condition of student social strata, amped up these days through social media platforms that can at times feed an unfortunate frenzy of bullying.

And finally, its story parallels the drama of the Miller’s masterwork, The Crucible, a dissection of the violence unleashed when a 17^th Century Puritanical community’s dark forces are unconstrained. Miller’s dramatization of  the actual 1692 Salem witch trials in the Massachusetts Bay Colony is now an essential per of our cultural literacy. (Steppenwolf produced The Crucible earlier this season - read our review by John Accrocco.) But the play can be impenetrable. This new take by Dawkins illuminates Miller’s story, and will undoubtedly be produced widely at schools.

In The Burn, Tara, the social standard setter and bully (Birgundi Baker) hangs out with a dumbed-down girls’ basketball team member Andi (Nina Ganet) and with Shauna (Dyllan Rodrigues-Miller), who straddles the respectable world of accomplished student, while also following Tara as a member of her “mean girls” clique. Transfer student Mercedes (Phoebe González) is never admitted to the group, and in fact is harassed in person and on line. Mercedes carries a lot of baggage from a violent event that caused her to change schools, finding comfort by becoming a born-again Christian in the process.

We first meet the students as their good-natured teacher, Erik (Erik Hellman, who also starred in The Crucible) struggles to engage the class in diagramming a sentence. He finally gets their attention by using a more personal sentence about Tara, and thereby hints at the increasingly personal encounters that are to follow. 

A high school, or any theater production, for that matter, is also an intensely powerful emotional experience for the players involved. As The Burn progresses, the students rehearse and play their roles, and must learn to perform as a unit. This shifts the emotional dynamics, and the dynamic of the group begins to shift. Tension mounts as Tara’s hold on the group is threatened, and Erik confronts her bullying behavior.

Dawkins is an accomplished playwright, as well as teaching the art at Northwestern, Loyola and Victory Gardens – and demonstrates the high level of craft he has attained from that background. Like Snap Chat, Messenger and Twitter, the play’s delivery runs at an almost breakneck pace – and in that sense is very fitting for its target audience. But the older crowd should not miss it. I laughed and cried and wanted to stand up and cheer when it was done. So yes, it’s highly recommended! Catch it at Steppenwolf Theatre through March 10.

Whenever things get hot in America, Arthur Miller comes back in vogue. It's hard to fathom what he would think of today's world though. Court Theatre features Miller's first hit play 'All My Sons' . Directed by Charles Newell, this provocative new production is vibrant and exceedingly well acted.

'All My Sons' first appeared on Broadway in 1947, establishing Arthur Miller as a major playwright. Though considered among his best, there's an amount of melodrama here that later Miller works would shed. In this dark play, he examines the moral and psychological effects of WWII on ordinary Americans.

John Judd plays Joe Keller, the good-guy neighbor type who has just arrived home from prison. He's been acquitted of manufacturing faulty airplane parts that caused plane crashes in WWII. His partner remains in jail having accepted all responsibility. His adult son Chris, played by Timothy Edward Kane survived the war while his brother Larry did not. On an ordinary summer day Chris invites Larry's former fiance and daughter of Joe's business partner, Annie (Heidi Kettenring) for a visit. Chris' mother Kate (Kate Collins) cannot reconcile that Larry is dead and is slowly unraveling.

Newell takes this script in an interesting direction. The central conflict is Joe, a normal guy with a huge moral dilemma. "I know you're no worse than most men, but I thought you were better." Miller writes. It's through Kate Collins that Newell puts the emphasizes on the women's narrative of this play though. Kate's dialogue swings from reality and delusion so rapidly. Collins' interpretation has an eerie Blanche DuBois quality to it. This is also a story about a woman losing her grip in a time when life was supposed to be cheerful.

Heidi Kettenring brings Annie to the foreground in this version. With 'All My Sons' Miller wanted to show how aspects of the war effected all parts of America. Many women were left widows. Social constructs made finding love more challenging for women. Kettenring captures every scene she's in. Her portrayal of a lonely woman with few options is haunting.

Newell's production is artful. The staging is vivid and unique. When every theater company is offering Arthur Miller, it's cool to see how these works are being reinterprated to appeal to a new generation. For some, two and a half hours of classic American theater sounds like a school field trip. Newell's production proves that there's always a new way to see a play.

Through February 11th at Court Theatre. 5535 S Ellis Ave. 773-753-4472

It’s the season of Arthur Miller in Chicago. It appears Miller is enjoying a renaissance right now with three of our major companies reviving his work this season. The Steppenwolf takes on "The Crucible" as their Young Adult show. Calling upon Jonathan Berry (one of the city's foremost storefront theatre directors), Steppenwolf bids for a younger audience's attention.

Berry doesn't disappoint. His vision for this show is more like MTV than stuffier productions of yore. The first act begins with hip-hop flavored choreography combined with Izumi Inaba's stylish costumes that create a sort of "sexy Halloween costume" version of "The Crucible". The alternative staging helps guide a younger, perhaps less engaged audience through the multi-cast roles and quick on-stage character changes. Berry also makes a distinct stylistic choice to gender and colorblind cast all of the roles. Performances are convincing enough that it never feels like a gimmick. Instead, it underscores Miller's theme that these characters are all of us.

The only misstep is Naimi Hebrail Kidjo's tepid Abigail. Arthur Miller's scenes between Proctor and Abigail are some of the most electrifying in modern American drama, but somehow, they rarely reach a boil here. Perhaps an underplayed Abigail helps bring the relationship between Proctor and his wife Elizabeth into sharper focus. The scenes between John (Travis A. Knight) and Elizabeth Proctor (Kirstina Valada-Viars) are gripping. Valada-Viars gives a feisty performance, making Elizabeth a stronger heroine than typically played. Knight's John Proctor is youthful and naive, but not without a quick temper and imposing figure.

The ensemble wears many hats, quite literally in some cases. Stephanie Shum swiftly moves through characters without faltering. It's hard to figure why some actors played more roles than others, but the moral backbone of the play is sufficiently taken up by Taylor Blim's Mary Warren.

For many of us, "The Crucible" occupies a greyish area of high school that we'd like to forget. The old timey language and belabored scenes are hard to get into. Even still, this is a show the Steppenwolf is aiming at school groups. Berry's version is cool. It may take some effort to get generation Snapchat into it, but for those who invest, this is a worthwhile production. "The Crucible" and "Death of a Salesman" are essential theater experiences. So much more is defined in a live performance versus a moldy permabound high school book.

Miller is hot right now because his themes are forever relevant. "The Crucible" tells us not to be sheep, but to look around and develop our own code of ethics. Jonathan Berry's modernish version of this classic work is sure to attract audiences without much theater-going experience, and what a cool introduction this would be. The key to instilling the values of Arthur Miller onto another generation is make it seem new, and this production feels fresh.

Through October 21 at Steppenwolf Theatre. 1650 N Halsted St. 312-335-1650

The Goodman Theatre almost never includes a show in their subscriber season that they haven’t developed themselves. Dutch director Ivo van Hove began his vivid production of Arthur Miller’s “A View from the Bridge” in London before bringing it to Broadway in 2016. It went on to win the Tony Award for best revival. Goodman artistic director Robert Falls requisitioned the work for Chicago prior to the Broadway run. Some may remember van Hove’s contribution to the Goodman’s 2009 Eugene O’Neill Fest. His arresting version of “Mourning Becomes Electra” performed entirely in Dutch was a sure stand out.

Ivo van Hove’s vision for Arthur Miller is uniquely his own in that it’s nothing like you’ve ever seen. If a standard Miller production bores you, then imagine an electric guitar version of Miller. The scenery and scene changes have been cut and what’s left is a minimalist masterclass in strong directorial choices. Minimalism doesn’t mean a lack of spectacle. The white cube contains the play to a small portion of the stage, allowing for audience members to sit right on stage. Each movement of this highly choreographed production creates a stunning visual.

Suffice it to say, you’ll never see “A View from the Bridge” like this again. van Hove’s intention is to create an “ultimate” version of classic American works through a European lens. What he reflects back is interesting. The concluding scene is a work of installation art, and leaves you with an unsettling feeling that we are but animals battling it out at the bottom. As with his interpretation of O’Neill’s “Mourning Becomes Electra”, van Hove is unafraid of heightening the subtle sexuality in the script. The blocking between Catherine (Catherine Combs) and Eddie Carbone (Ian Bedford) is highly suggestive and pushes the envelope even further than Miller had in 1953.

There’s no scenery, no costumes and no tricks for this cast to hide behind. Since the New York production, some of the parts have been recast, but many have not. Catherine Combs reprises her role as Catherine, but is no stranger to the Goodman stage. Combs’ performance is transfixing. She’s able to balance the juvenile qualities of a young girl in a falsetto, but convey the deep-voiced desires of a woman with an unexpected control. Playing her adoptive mother Beatrice, Andrus Nichols, commands each scene. The script would make this character a weakling, unable to stand up to her hulking husband. Nichols brings a hardened strength to the role that propels the final scenes to full throttle.

This production will stick with you. With our nation’s president touting severe immigration reform, this play comes at a critical point in history. Arthur Miller wrote plays that addressed social issues. In many ways Eddie Carbone is how Miller saw America, as something afraid of change. When we hear white supremacists chanting “You will not replace us” on national TV, it’s hard not to draw comparisons. This is an essential play for our times. Ivo van Hove has created a striking and extremely intense version of “A View from the Bridge” that Arthur Miller himself would applaud.

Through October 15th at the Goodman Theatre. 170 North Dearborn. 312-443-3811

*Now extended through October 22nd

"Attention must be paid," Arthur Miller pleads in his Pulitzer Prize winning play "Death of a Salesman." What is now required reading, "Death of a Salesman" asks its audience to consider the worth of one pathetic old man. The play debuted in 1949, at a time when America was coming out of a war and questioning the value of personal fulfillment. For that theme alone this play will always be relevant. 

The intimate space at Redtwist Theatre makes for an overwhelming experience. In many of the scenes there's an almost voyeuristic feel. As if you're in someone's living room listening to something you shouldn't. Director Steve Scott uses this atmospheric effect to create a palpable intensity. After the lights go out on the final scene, an audience gasped in unison. 

Brian Parry delivers a powerhouse performance as Willy Loman. Both tough and weak at the same time. His Loman is still feisty, making the ending all the more tragic. Jan Ellen Graves' Linda Loman is played calm and collected and rarely sentimental, but lively when the moment is right. Matt Edmonds gives a standout performance as Biff. There are such revelations in Edmonds' interpretation. 

Like Tennessee Williams and Eugene O'Neill, Arthur Miller knew America. He knew the sad and melancholic ways average people live. "Death of a Salesman" should make us uncomfortable. We should bristle at the idea of one average man getting used up and thrown away. It's a warning that if you don't take control of your own destiny, society will toss you aside. Willy Loman skirts through life on quick fixes and delusions. In a way, all of us are Willy Loman and Miller asks us to look beyond the superficial. As "On the Road" had also inspired a younger generation to live life differently than their parents, so does "Death of a Salesman." The moral here is that nobody wants to end up as Willy Loman. 

Through March 5 at Redtwist Theatre. 1044 W BrynMawr 773-728-7529

www.Redtwist.org 

In a cramped police station in Southern France, a handful of men argue about why they were picked up for questioning. During the Nazi occupation of France in WWII, Germany left Vichy to be governed by France. This didn't exempt the zone from mass deportation of Jews living on false papers. Arthur Miller's "Incident at Vichy" explores the dark themes of a region living in fear, holding a mirror up to our own time.

With direction by Ian Frank, Redtwist gives a faithful production of Miller's under-produced 1964 one-act. Redtwist's best asset from show to show is the intimacy of their performance space. For a claustrophobic play like this, a better space couldn't be found. There are almost as many cast members as audience members and when the room is full, there's an inherent sense of panic.

White men arguing is pretty often seen in mid-century theatre. Usually it's a vehicle for expressing the playwright's world views. "Incident at Vichy" is a play of its time period. That's not to say Arthur Miller's words aren't chillingly relevant. As each character in question slowly divulges the reasons they may be sent away, they prioritize their own right to life over their neighbor's. In those passionate monologues, Miller cuts right to the heart of human nature, which is sometimes primal.

With a large cast and a short play, it's unusual to have so much character development. The ensemble distinguishes themselves well. The play hangs on a stand-out performance by Jeremy Trager as Von Berg (an Austrian nobleman). His character is the only one who seems to express empathy and guilt about what's happening to the people around him. David Giannini and Tim Parker balance out the cast as Bayard and Leduc and turn in strong performances as well.

"Incident at Vichy" is a story of people living in fear. It's a cautionary tale of what can happen when people are apathetic. With all this history, it's shocking in America that some would-be politicians are touting mass deportations of minority groups. To that end, Miller's play has never been more essential.

Through January 10th at Redtwist Theatre. 1044 W Bryn Mawr. 773-728-75329

Dorothy Parker once said, "If you want to know what god thinks of money, just look at the people he gave it to." Arthur Miller's 'The Price' centers itself around a middle aged couple getting on toward their golden years, but for them, it's not so golden. The horrors of The Great Depression have haunted Victor and Esther for years and now that they’re finally liquidating his father's shabby estate, they see glimmers of financial security.


While Victor has struggled for years, partly by choice and partly out of an obligation to care for his aging father, his brother Walter selfishly pursued wealth and stature. Will a chance meeting with an almost supernatural antique dealer pave the way for a reconciliation?


Timeline Theatre presents 'The Price' in a time much like the one it was originally presented in. While the recession of 2008 clearly didn't hit as hard as '29, the uneasy ripples are still being felt today. Director Louis Contey's intimate production feels fresh and modern. Since this is a lesser known Miller, you won't be coming to it with any high school English class biases.


The small ensemble here works well together. Kymberly Mellen as money-hungry Esther is both aggravatingly pathetic and also heartbreakingly true in a final moment so slight you might miss it. Her character is an interesting commentary on how Miller and popular culture must have felt about wives. Her costar, Bret Tuomi as Victor is good, but often seems disconnected from the character. Perhaps this was a flaw of Miller's script because large swaths of monolog from Roderick Peeples as Walter seem insincere at times too. 91 year old Mike Nussbaum as furniture dealer Solomon is by far the most endearing part of the show. There's a heaven-sent quality to this role which is uncharacteristic of Miller's solidly grounded work. Nussbaum's performance is very charming.


'The Price' at Timeline Theatre is a highly polished, and well designed play that will introduce a new generation to a minor, but no less important Arthur Miller classic. It's a history lesson in privation and a cautionary tale about the unpleasantries money brings to people's lives. It's also powerful story about what it means to choose between love and wealth.


At Timeline Theatre through November 22nd. 615 W Wellington Ave. 773.281.8463