Displaying items by tag: Rom Barkhordar

There are but a few evenings in life that can ultimately change your destiny, David Yazbek’s The Band’s Visit tells the story of one such evening in the lives of those residing in a small Israeli town. When a lost bus drops off an Egyptian Police Band, a community offers to put them up for a night and in return, the band offers them a new perspective. All set to Yazbek’s gorgeous music created on stage by an impressive cast of actors and musicians.

Under the direction of Zi Alikhan in a co-production between Writers Theatre and TheatreSquared, this exciting new revival feels like exactly what the world needs right now. Too often the Middle East is portrayed as a war torn, chaotic region of the world and what this musical shows is that the human spirit is far more complex than ephemeral political moments.

There’s no definitive plot to The Band’s Visit but rather, a series of vignettes between the band members and the townspeople. Instead of the characters dissecting their political or religious differences, they focus on what makes them human.

The stirring music and performances make this immersive musical an unforgettable experience. The incredibly talented Sophie Madorsky leads the Israeli cast as Dina, a cynical widow who has given up on the idea of real love. Her touching evening with band conductor Tewfiq (Rom Barkhordar) is bittersweet and serves to remind us that you can find glimmers of hope at any age.

Optimists will choose to believe the band’s visit saves villagers Iris (Dana Saleh Omar) and Itzik’s (Dave Honigman) flailing marriage, reminding them too that love is complicated but worth it in the end. Their scenes together are at times heartbreaking and Dana Saleh Omar’s performance is one of the strongest assets of this production.

Youthful trumpet player Haled (Armand Akbari) is a bit of a casanova and spends the play helping young lovers find romance, despite his own predestined marriage. This is a musical about love, in all its many forms.

“The Band’s Visit” is not only thought provoking, but also a lot of fun to watch. It’s a rare departure from the ordinary musical theatre traditionally churned out by Broadway. For a musical based on a movie, this is not your typical jukebox musical adaptation that have become all too grating these days. Winner of 10 Tonys including Best Musical, The Band’s Visit is a unique, once-in-a-generation musical that requires just the right casting, direction and audience.

Writers has a hit on their hands. The show perfectly forms itself to the intimate Glencoe theater space. While audiences may shed tears, they’re not tears of pathos, they’re tears of joy. This show may not have all the toe-tappin’ songs that leave audiences singing their way home, but it certainly will leave audiences buzzing with a spirit of connectedness and hope.

Through March 17 at Writer’s Theatre. 325 Turdor Court, Glencoe. 847-242-6000

*Extended though March 24th

Playwright Eleanor Burgess has delivered one of the best scripts I've read or seen, in ‘Wife of a Salesman.’ While it may be viewed somewhat as a “prequel” to Arthur Miller’s 1949 classic ‘Death of a Salesman,’ it never directly references that play, and is an intriguing and challenging work of art that is an instant classic. Its world premier, running through April 3 at Writers Theatre in Glencoe, IL, is a theatrical event of the first order.

Produced in partnership with the Milwaukee Rep, 'Wife of a Salesman' is set in the 1950s (television is just arriving), the play opens in the apartment of The Mistress (Amanda Drinkall), a young blonde awakening to her day perhaps still basking in the glow of an amorous adventure the night before. When a knock somes to her door, she opens it, giving us a glimpse of a matronly woman with a briefcase, then slams it shut immediately, scurrying to straighten up the room, and pull herself together. A minute later she opens the door to this visitor, The Wife (Kate Fry) of the title.

From that opening moment The Mistress conveys through a gasp that she recognizes this unbidden visitor. Then the door reopens and The Wife enters, posing as a fabric saleswoman.Moments of increasing intensity follow, The Wife unable to open her sample case, and The Mistress deftly managing it for her. The Wife comments on a figurine of the Madonna, noting awkwardly that The Mistress must be Catholic. “My neighbors are Catholic,” she notes, and adds that they are nice people. She begins her halting sales pitch on the various samples. And soon The Mistress takes her to task for her poor salesmanship, offering with ratcheting intensity examples of how a sales presentation should be made. And the frey begins.

The Wife, we learn, has driven from New York to Boston, to confront her husband’s mistress, grist for any soap opera, a story from time immemorial. But Burgess unfolds this telling with precision strikes, and Kate Fry and Amanda Drinkall do not miss a beat in the imaginative script under the tight direction of Jo Bonney.

Burgess, whose plays include ‘The Niceties,’ plays out this examination of women’s roles in the 1950s with master craftsmanship. Every beat of the performances draw us into the story, the conflict, and to contrast contemporary views of women’s status in society with expectations from an earlier era.

Then, with a magical stroke (no spoiler), Burgess allows us to meet the actresses playing the roles, and see ways their personal lives parallel those of the 1950s characters. We listen to a generational divergence, Millennial vs. Genx types, in how to chart careers.

But the playwright goes further: the actresses ask the director Jim (Rom Barkhorder) to restore two powerful monologues that he has cut, and to let them speak to the playwright directly. In this meta transformation, Burgess is naming several of the fraught dynamics of theater: the tendency of at least some directors to view actors as”necessary evils” in staging plays, like herding cats. Jim also has an indifferent patriarchal power, and he fends off with familiar tropes of male disregard the multiple entreaties by the actresses to be given their due.

The creative team has given the show a set that is a delight to behold. Tickets to this outstanding production of 'Wife of a Salesman' are available at Writers Theatre. 

Lookingglass Theatre, known for its excellent production values and its incomparable space at the Water Tower pumping station, brings us an intriguing new work, Act(s) of God. 

Billed as an existential dark comedy, but really much more of a farce, it is a “guess who’s coming to dinner” tale of cosmic proportions. Written by troupe member and actor Kareem Bandealy and directed by Heidi Stillman, the show spares nothing in quality of effort and has an intriguing storyline, but runs off the rails by the third act. 

It opens on a middle-class family home where Father (Rom Barkhordar) and Mother (Shannon Cochran in an outstanding performance) await the homecoming of their boy Middle (Anthony Irons) and his girl Fiancée (Emjoy Gavino). Their two other children will also be arriving soon, a daughter Eldest (Kristina Valada-Viars) and another son, Youngest (Walter Briggs).

Sorting the mail, Mother listens to a radio report on the imminent passage near earth of the asteroid, Apophis, while she and Father reveal in passing that it is April 2029 – a date that gains in significance. Other rather witty exposition tells us how much (and how little) the world has advanced from the present. “Everyone’s driving solar cars, but why do we still have junk mail?” Mother asks.

In the mail pile Mother finds an unusual letter, but she can’t tear the envelope, nor can Father, nor the other children as they each arrive. No one can, that is, until Eldest arrives, disturbing the others who are deep in a stylized, futuristic New Age prayer ritual. (In a  droll touch, Bandealy has them ask God not for forgiveness, but to “Help us forgive ourselves.”) As it turns out Eldest is not only an atheist but also a lesbian, things which estrange her from the family. And perhaps to the detriment of this script, Eldest is a writer. But she is able to open the letter, revealing that it contains a message from God: he’s coming for dinner tomorrow night.

The plot thickens promisingly, and great deal of angst and stress accompanies preparations for their guests’ arrival, with Mother begging the rest, “Please don’t embarrass me in front of God.”

But the play takes a turn for the worse, as family tensions and dynamics fill the remainder of a way too-long show (three acts, two intermissions). These scenes are full of drama, but they do not a play make.  And while Bandealy’s characters are clearly defined personalities, jousting continuously, they seem only vaguely related to each other. Was it a matter of casting or direction?

Perhaps it’s the script – which is not fully jelled. Much of the dialog is actors reciting lengthy written texts, well stated, but mostly unconvincing as spoken language. This is slightly less of an issue with Mother, Youngest, and Fiancee, but is especially a problem with Eldest, who talks over the other characters in sometimes interminable diatribes and expository essays. Such character types have been known to represent the author.

There are also unconvincing dramatic moments, as when Father falls asleep sitting up in a chair for almost an entire Act, while a wild family wrestling and shouting match surrounds him. Or the siblings and Mother sitting unnaturally rigid and immobile throughout a scene as Father comes and goes from the kitchen, talking a mile a minute. 

Bandealy does give each character a moment of glory, with a signal monologue: in the son Middle’s take-down of his sister, Anthony Irons is moving and convincing. In Father’s recitation of an invented religious parable, Rom Barkhordar is flawless. Likewise, Shannon Cochran, who in what might be a ranting soliloquy decrying the raw deal given her by motherhood, instead sings her lines to the accompaniment of a baroque sinfonietta. It’s surpassingly than charming.

Oh yes, and God comes and goes, unseen by us. But we do hear him like a “passing wind” (a nice inside joke for religious folks, he is flatulent on a cosmic scale as well, it turns out). The date of God’s arrival, April 14, 2029, is repeated so frequently in the dialog I looked it up in Wikipedia. It is the day a large asteroid will come within 19,000 miles of the Earth – which clarifies the radio report in the opening minutes of Act(s) of God. 

The set by Brian Sidney Bembridge – the living and dining room of a middle-class family home – is wonderfully appointed, and conveys that indeterminate futuristic point in time with a mix of furnishings dating from 1920 deco and ersatz 1950s French provincial, to mid-century modern and contemporary retro, along with futuristic sconces and wall paper. 

The set matters, as it must also provide a climactic end to the play. But it was not a particularly satisfying one. The coincidence of a visit from God and an asteroid flyby gives a reasonable platform for an existential dark comedy, but hours of family squabbling didn't seem very existential or funny. There’s some good in Act(s) of God, and some great bits, so it's somewhat recommended if you have the patience for it. It will be at Lookingglass Theatre through April 7, 2019.