City Lit Theatre is currently bringing the swordplay world of Scaramouche to vivid life, offering audiences a rare chance to experience this spirited tale of wit, rebellion, and theatrical daring onstage. With its blend of political intrigue, romance, and commedia‑dell’arte flair, City Lit’s production captures the adventurous sweep of the story while showcasing the company’s signature literary focus. It’s a lively, sharply drawn staging that reintroduces a classic hero to modern audiences with style and verve.

Scaramouche tells the story of André‑Louis Moreau, a quick‑witted young lawyer in pre‑Revolutionary France whose life is shattered when his closest friend is killed in a duel by an untouchable aristocrat. Forced into hiding, André‑Louis slips into a traveling commedia dell’arte troupe as an out‑of‑work actor, where - thanks to the help of Pierre Binet, who immediately takes a liking to him - he quickly rises to lead the company. Donning the mask of Scaramouche, the nimble, sharp‑tongued clown whose satire cuts deeper than any blade, he begins crafting and performing daring political farces that transform him from fugitive to folk hero. His journey winds through romance, duels, disguises, and the rising tide of revolution, all while he uncovers long‑buried truths about his own identity.

Though the story is best known from Rafael Sabatini’s 1921 novel, its most significant early-stage incarnation came through Jean Sibelius’s ballet‑pantomime Scaramouche, written between 1912 and 1913. Sibelius’s adaptation brought the mischievous commedia figure to life through music and movement rather than spoken dialogue, emphasizing the character’s blend of humor, danger, and political bite. The work premiered on May 12, 1922, at the Royal Danish Theatre in Copenhagen, marking the first major performance of Scaramouche as a fully staged ensemble-shaped piece.

A century later, City Lit Theatre’s stage version captures the heart of the tale with clarity and affection, leaning into the story’s text‑centered expressiveness, wit, and emotional undercurrents rather than its spectacle. True to the company’s long‑standing mission of elevating literary works for the stage, City Lit approaches Scaramouche with a storyteller’s precision - honoring Sabatini’s narrative sweep while foregrounding the character‑driven humor and humanity that make the piece endure. Their production bridges the novel’s adventurous spirit and Sibelius’s expressive theatricality, reminding audiences why Scaramouche remains one of literature and theatre’s most enduring trickster heroes - “born with the gift of laughter and a sense that the world was mad,” and destined to turn both into his greatest weapons.

City Lit’s Scaramouche marks a genuine world premiere as a full musical, and what’s remarkable is just how naturally the saga takes to the form. Though Sabatini’s tale has lived for a century in novels, films, plays, and even Sibelius’s ballet pantomime, it has never before been realized as a traditional book musical with a sung score. City Lit recognized that the story’s imaginative DNA - its commedia dell’arte roots, its heightened characters, its blend of satire, romance, and political danger - was already begging for musical expression. That insight became the foundation for this adaptation, with music and lyrics by City Lit Artistic Associate Kingsley Day and book by Day and James Glossman, shaping André Louis’s journey with straightforwardness, wit, and story-forward verve. The result is a surprisingly seamless transformation, one that feels less like an experiment and more like the form the adventure had been waiting for.

What truly sells the concept is the sheer musical ambition of the production. With 30 musical numbers, the show fully commits to musical theatre, using songs to heighten character, hone satire, and propel André‑Louis from out‑of‑work actor to revolutionary folk hero. And the cast meets that challenge with uniformly excellent vocal performances. Ensemble members shift effortlessly between comedic patter, heartfelt ballads, and rousing ensemble pieces, giving the score a richness and variety that continually surprises. The vocal work is strong, expressive, character‑driven, and emotionally grounded, the kind of singing that makes the musical form feel not only justified but essential. City Lit’s gamble pays off: Scaramouche thrives as a musical.

Ethan Smith and Laura Michele Erle in CIty Lit Theatre's Scaramouche.

Ethan Smith anchors Scaramouche with a performance that is as nimble as it is commanding, capturing André‑Louis Moreau’s evolution from wounded idealist to razor‑sharp revolutionary with remarkable definition and charisma. Smith moves through the character’s many transformations - lawyer, fugitive, actor, firebrand - with an ease that makes the journey feel inevitable, even thrilling. His wit lands on point, his emotional beats resonate, and he carries the production with the kind of presence that makes it impossible to look anywhere else. It’s a standout turn that gives the tale its pulse.

Henry Michael Odum brings rich texture to each of the Manager/Gavrillac/Pierre Binet, shifting between roles with a grounded authority that deepens the world around André‑Louis. Laura Michele Erle offers a luminous, heartfelt Aline, playing her with a sincerity that makes her scenes glow. She balances innocence with quiet resolve, giving Aline a sense of inner life that elevates every moment she’s onstage. Conor Ripperger’s Phillipe (among other characters) is equally compelling - earnest, principled, and deeply sympathetic. His early scenes with Smith establish the emotional stakes of the structural arc, and Ripperger’s performance makes Phillipe’s fate feel genuinely affecting. Kent Joseph delivers a taut, formidable De La Tour, embodying the character’s aristocratic menace with razor precision and a chilling sense of entitlement.

The supporting ensemble adds color, humor, and texture throughout. Alicia Berneche brings elegance and sly intelligence to Madame de Sautron (and how she can sing!), shaping each moment with a knowing touch. Shea Lee’s Columbine sparkles with playful charm, her physicality and timing giving the commedia sequences real lift. Ed Rutherford makes Chapelier delightfully sharp‑edged, grounding the satire with controlled delivery. India Huy’s Climene is vibrant and expressive, adding a burst of stage-driven flair whenever she steps into the spotlight. Rushil Byatnal rounds out the troupe with a wonderfully nimble Pierrot, blending innocence and mischief in a way that feels perfectly tuned to the world of the play.

Together, this ensemble creates a dynamic, fully inhabited world - one where satire, romance, and revolution collide with irresistible spirit of invention.

Beth Wolf, a two‑time Jeff nominee, leads the production with a deft, imaginative hand, weaving together its comedy, romance, and revolutionary spirit with remarkable ease. Her direction gives the piece a vibrant pulse that carries through every scene.

City Lit Theatre has spent the past several seasons reaffirming its reputation as Chicago’s home for smart, text‑centered storytelling, offering audiences everything from tightly rendered literary adaptations to rediscovered gems that rarely see the stage. Their recent productions have leaned into that mission with renewed confidence, showcasing the company’s knack for transforming complex narratives into intimate, actor‑driven theatre. In that context, Scaramouche feels like an inspired and perfectly aligned choice - a swashbuckling tale rooted in literature, rich with political intrigue, theatricality, and character depth. It gives City Lit the chance to flex its strengths: crisp ensemble work, narrative coherence, and a love of stories that balance adventure with ideas. As part of their ongoing commitment to bringing literary worlds to life, Scaramouche fits not just well, but exceptionally well.

City Lit’s production is elevated by a design team working in striking harmony to evoke the texture and artistic boldness of late‑18th‑century France. Jennifer Mohr’s costumes - supported by her expertise as a commedia consultant - bring a vivid blend of historical detail and playful character expression, while Meg X. McGrath’s props add tactile richness to every corner of the stage. Jackson Mikkelsen’s lighting sculpts the world with warmth and shadow, shifting effortlessly between intimate moments and broader swashes of adventure. Scenic designer Trevor Dotson provides a flexible, purpose‑built environment that lets the action unfold with clarity and momentum, and Music Director Kevin Zhou does an impressive amount with a limited‑sized band. Maureen Yasko’s violence and intimacy design adds yet another essential layer, shaping moments of danger and vulnerability with precision, safety, and emotional truth. Together, they craft a world that feels cohesive, imaginative, and wonderfully alive.

City Lit’s Scaramouche is an easy production to recommend - a smart, spirited world‑premiere musical that embraces the adventure, satire, and dramatic flair of Sabatini’s plotline with real imagination. The company’s intimate Edgewater home adds to the charm, though audiences should know that parking in the neighborhood can be challenging, especially on weekend evenings. The theatre itself is located on the second floor of the Edgewater Presbyterian Church and is fully ADA accessible via elevator, making the space welcoming to all. For anyone who loves literary adaptations, new musicals, or simply a night of inventive storytelling, Scaramouche is absolutely worth the trip.

For tickets and/or more show information, click here.

Get ready for a cosmic comedy of gods, monsters, and mayhem that refuses to play by the old rules. That’s right - the universe is ending, and apparently it booked a headliner.

In Lifeline’s world premiere Loki: The End of the World Tour, we travel to another universe where Norse gods wrestle with fate, power, and the consequences of welcoming a trickster into their midst. Loki, half‑god and half‑giant, storms into Asgard with the force of a live wire, intent on reshaping his identity and carving out a place in the celestial hierarchy. His charm wins over Odin almost immediately, but the rest of the pantheon isn’t so easily convinced. While gentle Baldur welcomes him with the sunny goodwill he offers everyone, Thor bristles at the sudden competition for his father’s attention, and Freya senses danger in him from the start. Meanwhile, Loki’s three unusual children - Hel, Fenris (a wolfen creature), and the slithery Midgard Serpent - appear in Asgard as the very figures described in the prophecy Odin dreads, the beings destined to spark Ragnarok and bring the realm to its knees. Caught in the middle, Sigyn finds herself drawn to Loki’s restless spirit even as these revelations cast a looming war between gods and giants across their path. Loki’s return from the land of giants sets off a quiet upheaval in Asgard, and it’s clear the realm will never look the same again. Yep, Lifeline Theatre certainly lives up to its “Big Stories, Up Close” tagline in this original creation, transforming ancient myth into a visceral, close‑quarters clash of gods, secrets, and fate.

The show kicks off with a blast of rock‑and‑roll as the onstage trio - guitarist and music director Kelan Smith, keyboardist Kara Alexander, and drummer/bassist Alek Boggio - tears into the opening number. These three performers also serve as the Norns, guiding the audience through the story with a mix of narration, commentary, and musical firepower. Penned by Lifeline ensemble members Christina Calvit and George Howe and directed by Heather Currie, the “World Tour” concept gives the production a playful, concert‑style frame that keeps the energy high from the very first chord. Earplugs are free for anyone who wants them, and even with the show’s solid sound mix, you might be glad to have a pair handy - particularly in Act Two, when Boggio unleashes a drum assault that rattles the room.

Jack Chylinski leads the company with a magnetic, mercurial turn as Loki, slipping between charm, menace, and mischief with the ease of a born shapeshifter. The physicality is sharp and unpredictable, and they ride the rock score with a swagger that makes the trickster god both dangerous and oddly irresistible. Opposite him, Scott Danielson brings a seasoned authority to Odin, grounding the production with a commanding presence and vocals that cut cleanly through the music. Danielson’s All‑Father carries the weight of prophecy and fear in every scene, and the show deepens whenever he steps into the light.

Kelan Smith, Alek Boggio, Kara Olander, Janelle Anabria in LOKI THE END OF THE WORLD TOUR. Photo by Josh Bernaski.

Janelle Sanabria’s Freya is a powerhouse in every sense, her vocals soaring across the theatre with clarity, range, and emotional bite. She plays the goddess with fierce intelligence and a simmering distrust that adds real tension to the pantheon. Keenan Odenkirk, meanwhile, delivers a standout comedic performance as Thor, balancing bluster, jealousy, and impeccable timing. His ability to punch a line, hold a beat, and land a laugh gives the show some of its sharpest moments. Peter Gertas brings a bright, buoyant charm to Baldur, radiating warmth as the god of light and shifting effortlessly into his more grounded work as Mason.

India Renteria offers a luminous, heartfelt Sigyn, grounding the chaos around her with sincerity and emotional clarity. Loki’s three children - Grace Reidenauer as the coolly witty Hel, Anthony Kayer as the feral and unexpectedly tender Fenris (and the delightfully bold Thrym), and Avery Thompson as the playful, serpentine Middy - round out the ensemble with vivid, memorable performances. Each brings a distinct energy to the stage, and together they form a trio that’s as funny as it is thematically essential. The cast as a whole fuels the production with personality, precision, and a rock‑and‑roll spirit that never lets the momentum dip.

The physical world of the production is intentionally spare, yet it feels remarkably tailored to the story thanks to the combined work of scenic designer Lindsay Mummert, props designer Saskia Bakker, and lighting designer G. “Max” Maxin IV. Instead of overwhelming the stage with spectacle, the design team leans into simplicity and lets the atmosphere do the heavy lifting. The band sits off to one side in full view, their presence giving the show the pulse and immediacy of a live concert rather than a traditional musical. Maxin’s washes of purple light bathe the space in an otherworldly glow, transforming the minimalist set into something mythic, shifting, and just a little dangerous.

Anthony Kayer, Jack Chylinski, Grace Reidenauer and Avery Thompson in LOKI THE END OF THE WORLD TOUR. Photo by Josh Bernaski.

This production feels like lightning in a bottle, and the cast - backed by that ferocious onstage band - absolutely tears into it. New, original musicals don’t always find their musical footing right away, but this one arrives with a score that feels confident, catchy, and fully realized. Several numbers grabbed me on first listen, and by the time the show barrels into its final sequence, the music swells into a full‑throttle rock anthem that literally dares the audience to join in. The closing chorus suggests, with a wink and a blast of guitar, that if the world really is ending, we might as well crank the volume and go out in a rockin’ blaze of sound - and honestly, it’s hard to argue with that.

Loki: The End of the World Tour is the kind of original musical that proves, yet again, how fiercely inventive Chicago storefront theatre can be when it fires on all cylinders. Lifeline’s ensemble throws themselves into the chaos with precision, personality, and a rock‑and‑roll fearlessness that makes the whole night feel like a small miracle happening a few feet away. It’s smart, loud, heartfelt, and just strange enough to feel genuinely new - the sort of show you want to tell people about before it closes. And with the production running through June 14th, there’s still time to catch the lightning (or Thor's hammer) for yourself. As for logistics, street parking in the neighborhood remains one of the city’s best‑kept secrets: arrive a little early and you’ll likely snag a spot without the headache of garages or meters. For a show this fun, this fresh, and this full of talent, the trip is absolutely worth it.

For tickets/and/or more information, click here.

The Chicago theater community is grappling with the sudden loss of Matt DeCaro, whose death early Saturday came as a shock to colleagues and audiences alike. A cause of death has not been made public. Only hours before, he had taken the stage at the Goodman Theatre, performing the role of Sturdyvant in Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom during Friday night’s show. His unexpected passing led to the cancellation of Saturday’s matinee, while the evening performance moved forward as a tribute to his decades of work and the impact he left on the city’s artistic landscape.

DeCaro’s career stretched across more than four decades and reached nearly every major stage in Chicago. His long association with the Goodman Theatre included roles in Heartbreak House, The White Snake, The Cherry Orchard, Night of the Iguana, Boy Gets Girl, Camino Real, Romance, Richard II, Spinning into Butter, and The Play About the Baby. He moved fluidly between companies and styles, portraying Winston Churchill in Drury Lane’s The Audience, stepping into Doc’s role in Marriott Theatre’s West Side Story, and earning a Jeff Award for his performance in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. His work extended across the region as well, with appearances at Chicago Shakespeare Theater, Victory Gardens, Licoln Center, the Guthrie, and Asolo Rep. Beyond his extensive Goodman history, DeCaro built a substantial body of work across the city, including a standout turn in Steppenwolf’s Men of Tortuga - recognized by the Chicago Tribune as one of 2005’s most memorable performances - and a role in Victory Gardens’ Symmetry, further underscoring his versatility and command as a character actor.

His screen résumé was equally wide-ranging, with roles in Prison Break, The Office, Curb Your Enthusiasm, Chicago P.D., ER, U.S. Marshals, and Richie Rich. Yet for many, it was his presence on Chicago stages that defined him - steady, generous, and deeply rooted in the craft. Among the roles that left a lasting mark on those who followed his work, DeCaro’s Big Daddy in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof at Drury Lane stands out as a personal favorite. The mix of authority and raw vulnerability he brought to the character made the performance unforgettable - the kind that lingers in your mind long after the production has ended.

As tributes continue to emerge, the sense of loss is felt not only by those who worked beside him, but by audiences who witnessed his final performance just one night before his passing - a testament to how fully he remained devoted to the work until the very end.

In losing Matt DeCaro, Chicago loses one of the quiet forces that helped shape its stages for decades. His work was never about spotlight or spectacle - it was about craft, commitment, and the kind of presence that made every production stronger simply because he was in it. Even as the community mourns, the stories he told and the characters he embodied continue to resonate, a lasting reminder of an artist who gave everything he had to the world he loved.

Theresa Rebeck’s Poor Behavior at Oil Lamp Theatre, directed by Lauren Katz, opens with the easy warmth of old friends reconnecting - only to reveal how quickly a shared history can curdle. Within minutes, the play exposes the messy, magnetic dynamics that will drive the evening off the rails.

Peter and his wife, Ella (Jack Morsovillo and Ksa Curry), have welcomed their longtime friends, Ian and Maureen (Sam Fain and Lauren Paige), to their getaway country home for what’s meant to be an easy, wine‑soaked weekend. At first, everything feels harmless enough: the four drift around the kitchen and dining area, chatting, teasing, negotiating snacks - Peter is fixated on getting ice cream, Maureen keeps the small talk humming - the kind of casual domestic bustle that suggests comfort and history. But the mood shifts quickly when Ella and Ian slip into a heated exchange. Their rhythm is so practiced, so charged, that it feels less like a friendly debate and more like a well‑worn battleground. The familiarity between them is startling; before the play has even fully settled, you can’t help but wonder whether these two are circling an old intimacy the others aren’t acknowledging.

Ella insists - almost with a kind of moral urgency - that there is still goodness in the world, that people are capable of generosity and grace if you’re willing to look for it. Ian, however, has no patience for her optimism. Once enamored with America when he first arrived from Ireland, he now sees the country through a far bleaker lens. Every example Ella offers is batted away; to Ian, America is a place that devours resources, exploits the planet, and disguises greed as virtue. His cynicism isn’t casual - it’s sharpened, almost weaponized - and the more Ella pushes, the more he digs in. The argument escalates until the air in the room feels charged and brittle, the kind of tension that makes everyone else freeze. And then, just as it threatens to tip into something truly damaging, they both pull back. Cooler heads prevail, apologies surface, and the group collectively pretends they haven’t just witnessed a fault line crack open beneath the weekend – for the moment.

Peter has known Maureen since childhood - his brother even dated her for a time - and that shared history lends their friendship an instinctive ease. Neither couple has children, a fact they use, somewhat conveniently, to justify how tightly they cling to one another’s company. But do they actually like each other as much as they claim? As the evening unfolds, small cracks begin to show. The conversation among the foursome is lively enough on the surface, yet it quickly becomes clear that each marriage carries its own quiet fractures. Then, when Maureen misinterprets a moment of consolation between Ella and Ian - whose father has just died, or so he says - the weekend tilts sharply off its axis. Accusations fly, lies multiply, manipulation takes root, and before long the polite veneer between these two couples is stripped away entirely.

(L to R) Sam Fain, Ksa Curry, Jack Morsovillo and Lauren Paige in POOR BEHAVIOR from Oil Lamp Theater. Photos by Gosia Matuszewska - GosiaPhotography.com.

At first, the “poor behavior” can be dismissed as simple drunkenness - after all, Ian has plowed through four bottles of wine on his own. But as the night wears on, it becomes clear that alcohol is only the accelerant, not the cause. Rebeck gradually peels back the layers on all four characters: Maureen, whose anxiety and emotional fragility leave her grasping for reassurance; Ian, who seems to relish stoking doubt and discomfort whenever the opportunity presents itself; Ella is idealistic but is clearly withholding something; it’s subtle, but the undercurrent of it hums beneath everything she does; and mild-mannered Peter, who defaults to denial, choosing avoidance over confrontation and clinging to the hope that he can simply walk away from the weekend as though nothing has happened. What begins as sloppy, alcohol-fueled bickering soon exposes the fault lines that have been waiting for the slightest spark to rupture.  

Sam Fain and Ksa Curry deliver two of the evening’s most arresting performances, their scenes pulsing with an undeniable, almost disarming connection from the get-go. Fain’s Ian commands the room with a dangerous charm, twisting conversations to his advantage while letting flashes of buried desire slip through the cracks, while Curry’s Ella meets him with a grounded emotional intelligence that reveals the deeper currents Rebeck threads beneath their exchanges. Lauren Paige brings a raw, aching vulnerability to Maureen, charting her spirals of insecurity with precision and empathy, and Jack Morsovillo anchors the chaos as Peter, his quiet restraint and mounting frustration giving the play its moral center.

The arguing is relentless, and the tension feels startlingly real. Under Lauren Katz’s direction, the world of Poor Behavior becomes a room primed to combust with every glance, pause, and interruption calibrated to reveal the messy, volatile dynamics between these four characters. Katz cultivates a realism so precise that the uncomfortable moments become genuinely unsettling, keeping us on our toes as we anticipate what might unfold next - good or bad. And though we may root for these couples to find their way back to solid ground, the production holds us captive with the stark authenticity of their unraveling, a truthfulness that makes the prospect of reconciliation feel increasingly remote. Rebeck’s script raises thorny questions about the strength of relationships, the dangers of complacency (or not – for some), the limits of tolerance, and the moment when “enough” finally becomes enough - and Katz ensures those questions echo long after the final scene.

The thoughtfully crafted set serves this play perfectly, which strengthens the production’s overall effectiveness. Trenton Jones shapes a kitchen‑and‑dining‑room layout that feels like a genuinely lived‑in countryside home. A staircase rises toward the suggested upstairs bedrooms, while just beyond the kitchen refrigerator sits the entrance to a ground‑floor guest room. The result is a spacious‑looking design that expands the world of the play and works remarkably well on Oil Lamp’s intimate stage.

Oil Lamp Theater’s well-paced Poor Behavior succeeds because every element - Rebeck’s incisive writing, Katz’s sharply attuned direction, and a quartet of deeply committed performances - works together to illuminate the muddled, contradictory ways people love, wound, and misread one another. The staging embraces discomfort without sacrificing its humanity, inviting us to recognize uncomfortable truths about ourselves in the chaos onstage. By the time the lights fade, we’re left with the uneasy understanding that relationships don’t always resolve neatly, yet the effort to navigate them is what makes us unmistakably human. It’s the kind of play that stays with you long after you’ve left the theater.

Poor Behavior is being performed at Oil Lamp Theatre through May 10^th. For tickets and/or more show information, click here.

Highly recommended.

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

Lyric Opera of Chicago’s film‑with‑live‑orchestra series has become one of the city’s most engaging hybrid arts experiences, transforming the opera house into a cinematic concert hall where classic films gain new dimension through live performance. Recent presentations such as Singin’ in the Rain (February 2025) and Coco in Concert (October 2025) have showcased how a full orchestra can elevate familiar scores, bringing warmth, clarity, and emotional immediacy to every musical moment. The format takes full advantage of Lyric’s grand acoustics and visual scale, allowing audiences to rediscover beloved movies with a heightened sense of drama and immersion. It’s a rare blend of nostalgia and spectacle - a celebration of film and music that feels both timeless and newly invigorated each time the orchestra begins to play. Now, the series continues its momentum as Anthony Parthner leads The Lyric Opera of Chicago Orchestra in performing the cherished score to Mary Poppins.

Dick Van Dyke and Julie Andrews in Mary Poppins.

Released in 1964 and starring a dream duo of Dick Van Dyke and Julie Andrews, Mary Poppins follows the magical arrival of an extraordinary nanny who descends - quite literally - into the lives of the Banks family on Cherry Tree Lane. As the children, Jane and Michael struggle under the strict expectations of their distracted father and the anxieties of their well‑meaning mother, Mary Poppins brings order, wonder, and unexpected joy through a blend of firm guidance and whimsical adventure. With the help of her cheerful friend Bert (the loveable chimney sweep), she leads the family through imaginative escapades that reveal deeper lessons about connection, kindness, and the importance of seeing the world with curiosity. By the time she departs, the Banks household has been transformed, not by magic alone, but by the rediscovery of affection and unity.

This film is an ideal showcase for the Lyric Orchestra, and they rise to it beautifully. The score for Mary Poppins was composed by the celebrated songwriting team Richard M. Sherman and Robert B. Sherman, whose work helped define the sound of Disney’s mid‑century musical era. Known as the Sherman Brothers, they created a bright, whimsical, and emotionally rich collection of songs that blend clever lyricism with instantly memorable melodies. Their contributions to the 1964 film produced some of Disney’s most enduring musical moments - from the exuberant “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious” to the gentle poignancy of “Feed the Birds” - shaping a sonic identity that remains inseparable from the film’s legacy. Their score not only set the tone for Mary Poppins but also solidified the Shermans as two of the most influential composers in the Disney canon.

Conductor Anthony Parnther.

Lyric Opera of Chicago was especially thrilled to welcome Anthony Parnther to the podium, a conductor whose versatility and musical sensitivity made him an inspired choice for a score as iconic as Mary Poppins. One of the busiest conductors in Los Angeles and a world‑class bassoonist with an international performance career, Parnther brought both technical precision and a keen ear for orchestral color - qualities that served him well in shaping a live performance of this beloved film soundtrack. Watching him work was a genuine pleasure. His approach emphasized clarity and warmth, guiding the orchestra in a way that honored the Sherman Brothers’ classic melodies while subtly enhancing the film’s emotional contours in real time. For Lyric, his leadership reflected not only artistic excellence but a continued commitment to presenting musicians who could seamlessly bridge concert performance with cinematic storytelling.

With the success of its recent live‑to‑film presentations, Lyric’s film‑with‑live‑orchestra series continues to build steady momentum, and the company is already preparing for its next project: a live orchestral performance of Amadeus in 2027. Mary Poppins in Concert Live to Film is presented in a limited engagement on April 10 and 11. Click here for more information.

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

Depending on the source, Bat Out of Hell ranks among the top‑selling albums of all time, so its eventual leap to the stage in 2017 felt almost inevitable. Written by Jim Steinman and performed by Meat Loaf, the album’s grandiose ‘70s sound hardly suggests a post‑apocalyptic narrative, yet that’s the unexpected framing audiences encounter here. Meat Loaf’s music has always thrived on high‑energy rock‑opera theatrics  - a powerhouse voice wrapped in oversized emotion and unapologetic melodrama -  so while this storyline wouldn’t have been my first guess for a theatrical adaptation, it surprisingly fits. What works especially well is the way the show taps into the romantic rebellion that defined his performances, echoing the presence of an artist who approached each number as a miniature piece of theatre.

For its one‑night‑only performance at the Auditorium Theatre, Bat Out of Hell - The Musical opens with a confident burst of energy, pairing Steinman’s masterful songbook with a theatrical approach that’s more measured than its reputation suggests. Rather than presenting Meat Loaf’s iconic album as a straightforward rock spectacle, the creative team leans into the material’s operatic sweep and dystopian romance, shaping it into a visually engaging and musically cohesive piece of rock theatre. In the Auditorium’s spacious setting, the cinematic staging and amplified aesthetic settle in comfortably, allowing the show’s size to register without overwhelming the story at its center.

Set in the neon‑lit sprawl of post-doomsday Obsidian, Bat Out of Hell - The Musical centers on the charged relationship between Strat (Conor Crowley) - the eternally young leader of a band of renegade teens known as The Lost - and Raven (Carly Burns), the sheltered daughter of the city’s iron‑fisted ruler, Falco (Travis Cloer). Strat moves through a world shaped by rebellion and restless freedom, while Raven has grown up behind barricades built as much from fear as from concrete. Caught between them is Sloane (Tori Kocher), Falco’s long‑suffering wife, whose presence adds a more human counterpoint to the household’s rigid control. Their intersecting tensions spark a collision between desire and authority, youth and power, with Steinman’s sweeping rock anthems amplifying every emotional turn.

As Strat and Raven navigate the risks of their forbidden bond, the story widens to reveal the fractures within Falco and Sloane’s marriage - a counterpoint that exposes the weight of time, compromise, and regret. Meanwhile, The Lost struggle to hold onto their identity in a city determined to contain them. The narrative unfolds less as a traditional plot than as an atmospheric journey, laced with youthful rebellion and driven by Steinman’s music, which propels the characters through a world where love becomes both an act of defiance and a means of survival.

The show’s design builds around Steinman’s biggest showstoppers, threading them through the narrative with the kind of theatrical sweep that has long defined his work. Signature numbers such as “Bat Out of Hell,” “I’d Do Anything for Love (But I Won’t Do That),” “Two Out of Three Ain’t Bad,” and “Paradise by the Dashboard Light,” delivered with standout vocals and sizzle from Travis Cloer and Tori Kocher, form the musical backbone of the evening, each landing with the scale and intensity fans expect. Rather than serving as simple nostalgia cues, these songs shape the emotional architecture of the production, driving its crescendos and giving the story much of its momentum. Their presence underscores just how enduring - and theatrically adaptable - Steinman’s catalog remains.

As the production’s central pair, Conor Crowley and Carly Burns offer grounded, complementary performances as Strat and Raven. Crowley brings a clear vocal presence and an easy confidence to the role, while Burns provides a calm, steady counterpoint that helps shape the emotional arc of their scenes together. Their dynamic feels natural and unforced, giving the story a solid center without overpowering the production’s broader stylistic choices.

Production phot of Bat Out of Hell - The Musical by Chris Davis Studio 2

The ensemble moves with an easy rhythmic cohesion, offering strong vocal moments that add texture and dimension to Jay Scheib’s vision. Their presence helps fill out the world of Obsidian, giving the production momentum even when the staging remains intentionally spare. Scheib’s use of a live onstage cameraman adds another layer, capturing close‑up details that are projected onto two large overhead screens and lending the performance a subtle filmic quality. The choice works on both a practical and stylistic level, allowing the show to shift between the intimacy of the camera lens and the broader sweep of the stage. What initially feels like a distraction quickly becomes part of the visual language of the production, blending in so seamlessly that the cameraman all but disappears from notice.

The physical world of Bat Out of Hell - The Musical unfolds across a vast industrial landscape that captures the fractured, glow‑soaked atmosphere of Obsidian. The set itself is relatively simple, but the production makes sharp use of dynamic lighting to build atmosphere, scale, and momentum. A towering network of platforms, staircases, and metal scaffolding creates a vertical playground where the cast can vault between levels and stage the show’s most high‑energy moments. One of these platforms houses the live band, led by Greg Paladino, whose presence adds both immediacy and a welcome sense of rock‑concert authenticity.

Bat Out of Hell threads its spectacle with clear symbolic beats: The Lost, frozen in age, embody youth suspended between rebellion and stagnation, while Obsidian’s crumbling, fluorescent‑hazed skyline reflects a society shaped by fear and control. Strat and Raven’s romance becomes a tug‑of‑war between liberation and confinement, and Falco’s fortress stands in for every system determined to hold change at bay. Even the production’s constant motion suggests a world enthralled by spectacle yet uneasy with evolution.

It’s gratifying to see that the legacy of Jim Steinman and Meat Loaf continues to reach new audiences, while also resonating with longtime fans - some of whom sing along to every word of certain songs throughout the performance. The material’s larger‑than‑life sound remains a recognizable cultural marker, and this musical now holds a distinct place for many who appreciate the intersection of rock and musical theatre.

In the end, Bat Out of Hell - The Musical isn’t aiming for subtlety, but that’s part of its charm. It delivers an energetic surge powered by Steinman and Meat Loaf’s expansive songbook and a cast that commits fully to every moment. The storyline undoubtedly edges into corniness here and there, yet it matters little when the production is this unabashedly fun - and the sheer force of the music makes the ride worthwhile on its own.

The bat may well fly back again someday, but for now, Bat Out of Hell - The Musical arrived as a one‑night‑only event. For more information, visit https://batoutofhellmusical.com/.

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

Nearly a decade after it first upended the American musical, Hamilton returns to Chicago’s CIBC Theatre as part of Broadway In Chicago’s 2026 season, and its cultural voltage hasn’t dimmed one bit. Inspired by Ron Chernow’s book, Alexander Hamilton, Lin‑Manuel Miranda’s genre‑shifting epic — part biography, part political thriller, part hip‑hop opera — still hits with the force of a story determined to be heard. Having seen it in its inaugural year, I can say this revival lands even sharper, richer, and more assured than ever.

Alexander Hamilton didn’t just witness the birth of the United States — he helped engineer its architecture. As a delegate at the Constitutional Convention, he argued fiercely for a unified national government, and though not the primary drafter, he became one of its most influential defenders, authoring the majority of The Federalist Papers to secure the Constitution’s ratification. His imprint only deepened from there: he built the nation’s financial system from the ground up, established the U.S. Treasury, championed a national bank, and laid the groundwork for the country’s credit, industry, and economic identity. In Hamilton, these achievements aren’t treated as dry civics lessons but as the combustible fuel of a man determined to transform a fragile collection of states into a functioning nation — a legacy as complicated as it is foundational. The musical captures not just his ascent, but the way his ideas became the scaffolding of a country still deciding what it wanted to be.

Through songs like “My Shot,” “The Room Where It Happens,” and “Hurricane,” Miranda reframes the Founding Fathers not as marble statues but as flawed, hungry, deeply human figures fighting to define a nation and themselves. What Miranda is ultimately trying to convey — and what this production underscores beautifully — is that America’s story has always been messy, contested, and built by people who rarely saw themselves as the heroes of their own narrative.

Director Thomas Kail’s staging remains a masterclass in kinetic storytelling. The turntable choreography, the razor‑sharp transitions, and the way bodies carve through space all contribute to a sense of history constantly in motion. Under his direction, the show feels both epic and immediate — a revolution unfolding in real time.

l-r-Tyler Fauntleroy as Alexander Hamilton and A.D. Weaver as George Washington in Hamilton at CIBC Theatre. Photo by Joan Marcus.

What continues to astonish about Hamilton is how much storytelling power resides in its deceptively simple visual world. David Korins’ now‑iconic set — all timber, ropes, brickwork, and scaffolding — frames the action like an unfinished nation still under construction. The exposed architecture becomes a living metaphor for the country Hamilton is trying to build, while the revolving stage keeps history literally turning beneath the actors’ feet. Paul Tazewell’s costumes layer silhouettes with subtle modern inflections, allowing the cast to move with the velocity the score demands while still grounding the story in its 18th‑century roots. The palette shifts almost imperceptibly as alliances form and fracture, and the contrast between the Schuyler sisters’ elegance, the soldiers’ grit, and King George’s absurd opulence adds texture to every scene. Together, the set and costumes create a world that feels both historical and urgently contemporary — a perfect visual match for Miranda’s reimagined revolution.

This Chicago cast brings its own intensity. The Chicago engagement of Hamilton boasts a powerhouse company led by Tyler Fauntleroy, who delivers a relentless, razor‑sharp Alexander Hamilton—equal parts tactician, poet, and live wire. His performance feels carved from pure momentum, capturing both Hamilton’s brilliance and his self‑destructive drive. Opposite him, Jimmie “J.J.” Jeter turns in a magnetic, exquisitely controlled Aaron Burr, layering charm, calculation, and simmering envy into a portrayal that peaks beautifully in a soul‑baring “Wait For It” and a show‑stopping “The Room Where It Happens.” Lauren Mariasoosay brings warmth, emotional clarity, and a quiet steel to Eliza Hamilton (through April 12th), while Amanda Simone Lee commands the stage with fierce intelligence and vocal fire as Angelica Schuyler. Lily Soto shifts effortlessly between the wide‑eyed innocence of Peggy Schuyler and the seductive, wounded edge of Maria Reynolds through April 12th, with Nadina Hassan stepping into the roles beginning April 14th. A true force, A.D. Weaver anchors the production with statesmanlike gravitas as George Washington, and Christian Magby all but steals the show with his dual swagger as Lafayette and Jefferson—two performances so distinct they feel like separate universes. Nathan Haydel brings youthful fire and heartbreaking vulnerability to both John Laurens and Philip Hamilton, while Eddie Ortega grounds the ensemble with muscular presence as Hercules Mulligan and James Madison. And rounding it out, Matt Bittner delivers a perfectly petty, wickedly funny King George III, milking every entrance for maximum delight, stealing the moment with a perfectly calibrated blend of comedy and menace in “You’ll Be Back.”.

Musically, the production remains a marvel. The blend of hip‑hop, R&B, traditional musical theatre, and lyrical density still feels revolutionary, and the orchestra at the CIBC gives the score a muscular, propulsive energy. Even familiar numbers feel newly alive in this space. The production is expansive and brimming with moments that land with exhilarating force.

The run at the CIBC Theatre continues through April 26th, giving audiences a generous window to revisit — or finally experience — the show that redefined what Broadway could be.

In a city that knows its way around bold storytelling, Hamilton still stands out. It’s a reminder that history is not a fixed monument but a living argument — and that the voices shaping it are far more diverse, complicated, and compelling than the textbooks ever let on. Whether you’re seeing it for the first time or the fifth, this production makes the revolution feel brand new.

Highly recommended.

For tickets and/or more show information, click here.

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

Auditorium Philms’ presentation of Steven Spielberg’s 1981 classic Raiders of the Lost Ark with the Chicago Philharmonic Orchestra transforms a beloved blockbuster into a full‑body cinematic jolt. Indiana Jones’ adventures play out across the towering Auditorium Theatre screen, but it’s the live orchestra that makes the familiar feel astonishingly new. John Williams’ legendary score doesn’t just sit beneath the film—it surges through it, electrifying every frame. Each chase, each narrow escape, each sweeping desert vista lands with heightened force as the Philharmonic unleashes the “Raiders March” and the score’s darker, more mysterious undercurrents with breathtaking clarity. The result is an experience that feels both nostalgically rooted in movie history and thrillingly alive in the present moment.

Set in 1936, Raiders of the Lost Ark follows archaeologist and adventurer Indiana Jones (Harrison Ford) as he’s recruited by U.S. Army Intelligence to locate the Ark of the Covenant, a biblical artifact believed to hold immense supernatural power. The Nazis are already searching for it, hoping to harness its destructive force for their military ambitions.

Indy’s quest takes him from the jungles of South America to the snowy mountains of Nepal and the bustling streets of Cairo. Along the way, he reunites with his tough, resourceful former flame Marion Ravenwood (Karen Black), and together they battle traps, treachery, and relentless Nazi agents. Standing in Indy’s way is his rival, the suave and morally slippery archaeologist René Belloq (Paul Freeman), who has aligned himself with the Nazis to claim the Ark for his own purposes.

The adventure barrels toward a race‑against‑time finale as Indy fights to keep the Ark out of enemy hands—culminating in one of the most unforgettable climaxes in action‑adventure cinema.

The stunning Auditorium Theatre amplifies the magic, its grand acoustics allowing the orchestra’s sound to bloom without ever overpowering the action onscreen. The coordination between musicians and film is so precise that it feels as though the score is being created in the moment, perfectly synced to every crack of Indy’s whip and every pulse‑pounding twist. The result is a seamless blend of concert and cinema, a reminder of just how essential Williams’ music is to the film’s spirit, humor, and sense of adventure.

Conductor Thiago Tiberio.

Brazilian conductor Thiago Tiberio brings remarkable artistry and precision to the podium, making him one of the standout talents in the world of film‑in‑concert performance. Known for his expert live‑to‑picture synchronization, Tiberio has led orchestras in acclaimed presentations of Star Wars, The Nightmare Before Christmas, Coco, Lord of the Rings, and other major studio projects across the globe. His background spans opera, multimedia productions, and award‑winning work recognized by organizations including the United Nations. What truly distinguishes Tiberio is his dynamic presence and emotional clarity - he draws rich, expressive playing from musicians and elevates every score he touches, turning familiar soundtracks into thrilling live experiences.

Each time Indy charges onto the screen with a burst of heroism - or the Chicago Philharmonic unleashes a perfectly rendered cue from Williams’ score - the audience responds as one. Cheers ripple through the theatre, a spontaneous wave of energy that makes the experience feel communal and electric.

Whether you’ve seen Raiders a dozen times or are discovering it for the first time, this live‑orchestra presentation is a joyous celebration of movie magic - an electrifying tribute to one of Hollywood’s most enduring collaborations.

As a newly crowned favorite way to experience a film classic, Auditorium Philms makes a strong case for returning again and again. Their upcoming slate keeps the magic alive, offering even more opportunities to see iconic movies reimagined through the power of live orchestral performance. Keep an eye on their calendar - you won’t want to miss the cinematic treasures still to come.

Saturday, May 16, 2026 • 7:30 PM
Auditorium Philms Presents
Rocky In Concert – 50th Anniversary
with the Chicago Philharmonic

Saturday, September 26, 2026 • 7:30 PM
Auditorium Philms Presents
Top Gun: Maverick

Saturday, October 24, 2026 • 7:30 PM
Auditorium Philms Presents
Edward Scissorhands In Concert – Live to Film
with the Chicago Philharmonic

Saturday, December 19, 2026 • 7:00 PM
Auditorium Philms Presents
Home Alone 2: Lost in New York – Live in Concert

For tickets and/or more information, visit https://www.auditoriumtheatre.org/events/buy-tickets/auditorium-philms.

Get ready - those phones are about to explode, and Sam is already spinning like a top trying to catch every single one. It’s a full‑blown ring‑storm, and he’s diving into it with the hectic energy of someone who knows the chaos is coming and still can’t outrun it.

A brisk, razor‑funny powder keg of a play, Fully Committed tracks a single frantic day in the life of Sam, the lone reservationist at one of Manhattan’s most elite - and most impossible - restaurant. Becky Mode’s script is a full‑tilt high‑wire act, and Mike Newquist tears across nearly forty characters with the kind of breakneck precision that makes your head spin. As Sam, he’s already a live wire - but then he’s also snapping into entitled celebrities, neurotic assistants, tyrannical chefs, and every flavor of fine‑dining madness that dares to ring his desk. It’s dazzling, anxious, and wildly fun to watch him juggle it all without ever dropping the thread. The comedy snaps because each character is so sharply etched, and Newquist seamlessly shifts among them with the kind of finesse that turns mayhem into art.

At its heart, the nearly 90-minute play gleefully skewers the rituals of status and the agitated, almost feral hunger for exclusivity, exposing just how ridiculous people become when a reservation turns into a badge of power. Sam becomes the unseen fulcrum of that world, and his day unravels from merely hectic to outright surreal as he absorbs tantrums, negotiates impossible demands, and fights to keep a grip on his own sense of worth. Watching Newquist as Sam behind that reservation desk in a constant tinderbox had me instantly aware that I wouldn’t survive two hours in his shoes. His frantic charm and barely contained panic sells the chaos and sparks a whole new respect for the people who actually thrive in that kind of daily combustion.

Fully Committed lands as hard as it does because it’s rooted in real industry absurdity. Mode shaped these characters straight out of real restaurant‑world encounters, giving the show a mix of satirical whirlwind and a bite of truth that feels both sharply recognizable and wickedly real.

Throughout the play, I loved how Sam’s dad kept slipping into the heavy commotion with that gentle, grounding voice - just long enough to let the whole room exhale. Each time he called, Sam’s entire demeanor flipped in an instant; you could watch him go from frazzled to peaceful like someone had hit a reset switch. Those brief check-ins made it clear how a few steady words from a gentle, supportive father (or friend/family member) can cut straight through the noise, offering a tiny pocket of calm even when everything else is burning down around him.

Mike Newquist is pure kinetic joy onstage, delivering a commanding turn in Fully Committed. The Chicago‑based actor and improviser thrives in the city’s storefront trenches, bouncing between sharp‑edged comedy, character chameleon work, and the kind of ensemble disorder where anything can - and usually does - happen. He’s popped up with PrideArts, AstonRep, and The Comrades, tackling everything from contemporary drama to high-velocity comic mayhem. In Fully Committed, it’s his quick‑switch agility that makes him a blast to watch.

Directed by Derek Bertelsen, this Chicago staging arrives with a jolt of fresh energy and real immediacy. Newquist’s performance becomes the engine that drives the whole night, while Bertelsen keeps the momentum razor‑sharp, the pacing tight, and every character shift snapping cleanly into place.

The Den Theatre hosts the run March 13–28, 2026, with performances on Friday and Saturday nights at 7:30 p.m. Tickets for Fully Committed at The Den Theatre are just $26. For tickets and/or any more show information, click here.

Recommended.

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