The Recommendation, which opened July 11 at Windy City Playhouse, tells a compelling story of two lifelong buddies who clash violently when their adult lives and values go in different directions than during their student days. Yet they remain friends. The play, which premiered in New York in 2013, is by Jonathan Caren who adapted it with Windy City artistic director Amy Rubenstein for this “immersive” production, examines the advantages conferred on individuals by the circumstances of their birth.

“Circumstances of birth might give some people an advantage over others, and it's not something we talk about on a daily basis,” says Caren. “But it does affect the stories that get told; and it affects the people that do get certain opportunities. This play focuses a lot on intersection people from different backgrounds.”

A series of scenes contrasts the privileged life of Aaron Feldman (Julian Hester) with that of Iskinder Iodouku (Michael Aaron Pogue), who met as freshman at Brown University. Aaron is a familiar type who skates through life on good looks, natural bonhomie, and easily forming and tapping his network of connections – including those of his Dad, a lawyer in Los Angeles. The story is told from the point of view of Iskinder, a pre-law student whose father is from Ethiopia, and whose mother is American. He narrates scenes, and speaks directly to the audience at times – when not playing against the other characters.

Iskinder is a realist, and sees through Aaron, but loves him anyway – and it seems likely he has tapped Aaron’s Dad’s connections to assure his entry into UCLA law school. After college, Aaron enters the Hollywood movie business, a tough grind where connections get introductions, but talent is needed to succeed. He is at the bottom, acting as an assistant to a movie producer – which means house sitting, getting coffee, and being a go-fer. Iskinder pursues his legal education and career, deciding against becoming a court-appointed attorney for a more lucrative post with stature at a high powered law firm.

The plot thickens dramatically when Iskinder takes on a pro-bono case to get early release for a young African-American man, Dwight Barnes (Brian Keys), whose sentencing was excessive. It turns out that Aaron met Dwight when he was briefly jailed for driving on an expired license. Dwight protected him from other inmates, but Aaron also confided something to him: that he may heave hit someone with a car as a teenager, and he left the scene of the accident. He was never caught.

Isikinder Iodouku (Michael Aaron Pogue) leads the audience into the next scene, in the dorm room at Brown University. 

The conflict for the college buddies comes as Iskinder works to win Dwight’s release – against Aaron’s protests, who wants him to remain jailed – to keep him quiet. But Aaron has never revealed his motive to Iskinder, who goes further, and helps Dwight secure a job. Along the way, Iskinder’s law firm lets him go, specifically claiming his pro bono work was based on his personal relationship to Dwight – a violation of the law firm’s policy. But we also suspect that Aaron may have used his connections to make this happen.

The Recommendation as presented at Windy City Playhouse also makes a compelling case for experiential theatre. The format eschews the traditional actors-on a stage performance. Instead the audience walks through a series of sets. In The Recommendation, we began with a scene in the lobby, from which a double door opens onto the dorm room of Aaron.

Next we are lead into the dorm room itself. And from there, we visit several other scenes from the story, and at various points the audience is offered drinks (alcohol optional); saki at a sushi restaurant; Jello shots in the dorm room; a cocktail at the lobby scene; and finally water in a health club sauna scene. We also visit a pool at a Hollywood home and a jail cell.

During these multi-dimensional experiences, the three actors are up close and we see precisely how exceptionally good their performances are. We also experience the delivery of exposition in a physical way – and much more naturally than when only spoken - including a flashback scene to Aaron growing up and talking to friends on the phone as his parents (unseen) leave the house.

This recap of the story is more explicit than the play itself; I have connected a few dots to give it a reasonable sequence. But if you pay attention you will see, hear and experience all of this – a cross between a play and a live podcast, perhaps. In one particularly powerful scene, Iskinder is counseling Dwight as he prepares to seek his release. The strength of that scene is along the lines of the best of To Kill a Mockingbird.

The other aspect of experiential plays is the business model – which makes it an attractive theatrical experience even for those who may not love ne theater fans. Only about three dozen seats are available for the show, since the audience must sit within the various scenes – all built into rooms within the theater building. With cocktails (non-alcoholic drinks are offered, as well as drink free tickets) run from Wednesdays and Thursdays at 7:30 p.m., Fridays at 8 p.m., Saturdays at 4 p.m. and 8 p.m.and Sundays at 2 p.m.and 6 p.m.Tickets ($80-$100) are now on sale through October 6th. The Recommendation at Windy City Playhouse is highly recommended.

*Extended through October 20th!

The Music Man is beautifully produced at Goodman Theater. It generated so much pre-show buzz that the run was extended twice before the curtain came down on opening night. No wonder.
With great choreography (Denis Jones), wonderfully detailed period costumes (Ana Kuzmanic), and an orchestra directed by Jermaine Hill, it hits the right notes for a convincing rendition of a beloved Broadway musical that has enshrined itself in America’s cultural pantheon. From scanning ticket holders going in, and judging by the exuberant reception from the audience opening night, the show holds a powerful attraction for audiences of all ages.

The 1962 movie version with Robert Preston and Shirley Jones in the lead roles is probably the Music Man one most people recall. Not producing a simulacrum of it risks disappointment, that is the case overall in the Goodman Theatre version.

Director Mary Zimmerman fully satisfies our nostalgic hunger, honoring the work by Meredith Wilson (book, lyrics and music), which is itself is a bit of 1950’s nostalgia about the simpler times in 1912 River City, Iowa. This was a period when science and industry were in the ascendance in America, while popular culture was shaking loose from the its reverence for 19th century classicism.

In this version, Zimmerman - one of our city’s most precious creative forces - takes a fresh turn on the work, with reverence for the storyline, but setting a tone from the start with the brilliantly offbeat sets by Dan Ostling (Metamorphoses, and 30+ other Lookingglass Theatre works), the hallmark of many Zimmerman efforts.

As the audience arrives it is greeted by full curtain print of an antique Iowa map. This rises to reveal a full stage-sized beaded board, with a cutaway revealing the interior of Pullman passenger car on the Rock Island Line that originated in Chicago, and bound for River City. It is filled with traveling salesmen arguing about the merits of knowing the territory, whether to sell on a cash basis, or extend credit, and talk of a charlatan who fleeces customers and gives all salesmen a bad name.

In this blockbuster opening scene, the lines and songs and dance are delivered in syncopated cadence matching the rhythm, speed, and clickety clack of the train, and it far outdoes the movie version. And the audience embraced it to joyful cheers.

Likewise for the next scene introducing people of River City, Iowa, not given over to effusive expression – setting us up for the rest of the show. The response to this first appearance of the full company on Main Street in River City was thunderous applause and cheers. It is safe to say that Music Man were it on Rotten Tomatoes would get 97 from viewers, though more mixed assessments from the reviewers.

There are some things lost. Zimmerman weaves together a wonderful presentation of Music Man, but the individual actors and the music seem subordinated to the production – little chance for stars to shine, or for us to bask in the music. For a musical about musical bands, this one has too sparse an orchestra, with just 11 pieces.

Also the pace of song performances, with though there were wonderful voices, the numbers seemed rushed, with no time for listeners to bask in sublime melodies like “Til There Was You” or “Lida Rose.”

Slightly underdone was the role of Ronnie, the boy with the speech impediment (we would call him “special needs” today). He’s the one that sing’s “Gary Indiana.” I may be mistaken, but the performance of scenes from Grecian urns by the women’s culture group seemed too abstracted to evoke the antiquities they were referencing. 

But those are minor matters. The Music Man at Goodman Theatre is an absolutely wonderful production. Fom the reception by the audience opening night, you should hurry to get tickets. (It runs through

The Music Man is beautifully produced at Goodman Theater. It generated so much pre-show buzz that the run was extended twice before the curtain came down on opening night. No wonder.
With great choreography (Denis Jones), wonderfully detailed period costumes (Ana Kuzmanic), and an orchestra directed by Jermaine Hill, it hits the right notes for a convincing rendition of a beloved Broadway musical that has enshrined itself in America’s cultural pantheon. From scanning ticket holders going in, and judging by the exuberant reception from the audience opening night, the show holds a powerful attraction for audiences of all ages.

The 1962 movie version with Robert Preston and Shirley Jones in the lead roles is probably The Music Man most people recall. Not producing a simulacrum of it risks disappointment, but that is not the case overall in the Goodman Theatre version.

Director Mary Zimmerman fully satisfies our nostalgic hunger, honoring the work by Meredith Wilson (book, lyrics and music), which itself is a bit of 1950’s nostalgia about the simpler times in 1912 River City, Iowa. This was a period when science and industry were in the ascendance in America, while popular culture was shaking loose from its reverence for 19th century classicism.

In this version, Zimmerman - one of our city’s most precious creative forces - takes a fresh turn on the work, with reverence for the storyline, but setting a unique tone from the start with the brilliantly offbeat sets by Dan Ostling (Metamorphoses, and 30+ other Lookingglass Theatre works), the hallmark of many Zimmerman efforts.

As the audience arrives it is9 greeted by full curtain print of an antique Iowa map. This rises to reveal a beaded board panel filling the entire stage opening - like a second curtain - with a cutaway revealing the interior of a Pullman passenger car on the Rock Island Line that originated in Chicago, and bound for River City. It is filled with traveling salesmen arguing about the merits of knowing the territory, whether to sell on a cash basis or extend credit, and talk of a charlatan who fleeces customers and gives all salesmen a bad name.

In this blockbuster opening scene, the lines and songs and dance are delivered in syncopated cadence matching the rhythm, speed, and clickety clack of the train, and it far outdoes the movie version. And the audience embraced it to joyful cheers.

Likewise for the next scene introducing people of River City, Iowa, not given over to effusive expression – setting us up for the rest of the show. The response to this first appearance of the full company on Main Street in River City was thunderous applause and cheers. It is safe to say that Music Man were it on Rotten Tomatoes would get 97 from viewers, though more mixed assessments from the reviewers.

There are some things lost. Zimmerman weaves together a wonderful presentation of The Music Man, but the individual actors and the music seem subordinated to the production – little chance for stars to shine, or for us to bask in the music. For a musical about musical bands, this one has too sparse an orchestra, with just 11 pieces.

Also the pace of song performances, though there were wonderful voices, the numbers seemed rushed, with no time for listeners to bask in sublime melodies like "Good Night my Someone" “Till There Was You” or “Lida Rose.” Both leads are great singers: Monica West plays Marian Paroo, and Geoff Packard plays Harold Hill.

Slightly underdone was the role of Ronnie, the boy with the speech impediment (played by Ron Howard in the film, we would call him “special needs” today). He’s the one that sing’s “Gary Indiana.” I may be mistaken, but the performance of scenes from Grecian urns by the women’s culture group seemed to be made too contemporarily abstract to properly evoke the antiquities they were referencing, and the dying cries of classicism. 

But those are minor matters. The Music Man at Goodman Theatre is an absolutely wonderful production. Fom the reception by the audience opening night, you should hurry to get tickets. (It runs through August 18.)

It’s no secret Hitler feared he would be killed, by political assassins, rivals or enemy troops. He spent much of the war seeking security underground at The Wolf’s Lair, his heavily fortified command center 400 miles east of Berlin, while directing action on the Eastern front.

One of his fears was poisoning. So Hitler’s S.S. officers arranged for a cadre of fifteen 20-something women, three of them bussed in daily to the Wolf’s Lair, tasked with eating three meals from the same batches prepared for Hitler.

Then they waited an hour to see if they sickened – this process repeated thrice daily for years to verify the Fuhrer’s bland vegetarian meals (rice, cauliflower, etc.) were safe. 

This little-known story came to light in 2013 when one of the girls, Margaret Woelk, told her tale to German television. Playwright Michelle Brooks recreates Woelk's experience in  Hitler’s Tasters, playing through July 14th at the North Shore Center in Skokie. Directed by Sarah Norris, it must return to New York and thence to the Edinburgh Fringe Festival – where it has been designated among "10 to watch" of some 4,000 entries. So take advantage of this opportunity to see it.

In Hitler’s Tasters, we witness 90 minutes of babbling girl talk about lipstick colors, hair, celebrities, and makeup, punctuated by an almost ceremonial delivery of the meals. The girls have been taught to look down as they receive their trays, then eat everything on their plates.

Occasionally one of the three girls is replaced by another – without explanation, but giving rise to speculation by the other two on whether the gone girl was too friendly to Jews, or had a relative who failed in service to the Reich. From scene to scene they change skirts, blouses and frumpy shoes, cable knit sweaters, one-piece uniform dresses - which helps convey the passage of time.

The girls fill the empty hours by endlessly snapping photos, trading grooming advice, and occasionally bullying whoever is most vulnerable. Liesel (Hallie Griffin), Hilda (MaryKatherin Kopp), and Anna (Hanna Mae Sturges) are insecure, with only vague notions about the goals of the Third Reich (“Is it the Motherland or the Fatherland?” one asks). Taster replacement Margot (Hanna Mae Sturges) arrives when Anna disappears, and she is more of a questionner: "Where is the meat?" she asks when her first meal arrives.

Hilda seems most aligned with the Reich's agenda, telling the others, "Hitler is making everything better." When they look at her in disbelief, she corrects herself: "He will make everything great again when he can finish his plans." The audience reacted to this and numerous other pointed references to politics past and present. While Hilda is only too ready ready to lord it over the others since her father is a high-ranking German officer, eventually even she loses face when it turns out he may be a deserter.  

Unlike the idealized young women profiled in Nazi propaganda whose mission was to whelp broods of Aryan men, Hitler’s tasters are simply frivolous young ladies with not much on their minds. Still the repetitiveness weighs on them, as does the arrival of the meals, triggering repeated contemplation of their own mortality.

If familiarity breeds contempt, these too-close relationships devolve into moments of deep enmity and cruel behavior. Each may potentially inform on her peers, which could mean time in a concentration camp, or even execution. We get what Hannah Arendt called "the banality of evil," with an especial emphasis on the banal - like a bad reality TV show set in Hitler's bunker.  

Brooks has done something unique in Hitler’s Tasters - adding anachronisms like Smart Phones and contemporary pop music and dance (with choreography by Ashlee Wasmund) to drive home the point that these girls where not much different than the average girl (or young guy) on the street today. They haven’t got it figured out yet, and for these three, even when they do, they will be destined to aim at motherhood uber alles.

Dancing to Madonna and sharing photos may seem jarring, but the playwright says, “I wanted to reach another generation. Young people don’t know about the War.” Indeed, since the days of my youth, we have given schools so many more wars to teach about, that the Third Reich and World War II merits just a day, and students get only glancing familiarity with its impact and implications for contemporary life.

Brooks said in an after-show discussion that she had determined “to make this the most completely researched play,” and amassed a wealth of material. “Then I wrote it in 48 hours, without opening a book.” That gave the play its energy and vision, and subsequent research added details that are subtly and skillfully woven in.

The real Hitler’s taster Margaret Woelk revealed she was raped by an S.S. officer in this period, and eventually escaped on a train with Goebbels, while the rest of the young women at The Wolf’s Lair met violent ends at the hands of the advancing Soviet army.

Hitler’s Tasters is a strong work, and Brooks and the creative team even adapt the music to different venues in which it plays – in an effort to engage audiences. With the all-women cast and creative team, Brooks says the music is also drawn from women performers – Ow Ow Ow by Spud Cannon; The Navigator by Hurray for the Riff Raff and Child of the Sun by Amyra among them. Perhaps this show could be tightened by 5 or 10 minutes – there are moments when the pace lags - but it's a minor concern. 

See Hitler's Tasters through July 14 at the North Shore Center Show times are Tue, July 09 at 7:30pm; Wed, July 10 at 7:30pm; Thu, July 11 at 7:30pm
Fri, July 12 at 8pm; Sat, July 13 at 2pm; Sat, July 13 at 8pm; and Sun, July 14 at 2pm. 

The Flower of Hawaii (originally Die Blume von Hawaii) is a 1931 operetta by Hungarian composer Paul Abraham. Working in Berlin, Abraham was popular for his light operatic works, the type that live in the niche between grand opera and our classic Broadway musicals. In recent years, operettas seem to have been displaced at major metropolitan opera houses with renditions of West Side Story or Carousel dropped in, partly in efforts to expand audience reach, and ticket sales.

The Flower of Hawaii has something of the look and feel of these classic operettas, like The Merry Widow or The Student Prince. It is a modestly entertaining romantic story with a happily ever after ending. Conductor and music director Anthony Barrese has given an admirable passion and integrity to this project, conducting 19 musicians in a 23 piece orchestra (some do double duty, like the three clarinetists who also play saxaphones).

The standout singing performance is by Joachim Luis as Kanako-Hilo/Prince Lilo-Taro, whose commanding tenor is wonderful. For serious operetta followers, the chance to hear and see this work fully staged and choreographed, with two dozen performers, makes The Flower of Hawaii a must-see.

Composer Abraham was noted for injecting jazz interludes into his operettas – but “jazz” to a composer working in Germany in 1931 meant Josephine Baker, earlier Dixieland and New Orleans styles. Some pieces in this show sounded to me like precursors of big band, while other upbeat numbers I would associate with the Charleston and other 1920s dances.

Overall, though, Abraham’s The Flower of Hawaii is dominated by waltzes, Cossack marches, doleful Slavic laments, and classical romantic motifs – quite lovely, but a bit off-theme for a fantasy set in Hawaii. The composer does include Hawaiian slide guitar, ukeleles and coconut shell percussion, giving us a snapshot of the island music as it sounded in the 1920s to a European composer.

For contemporary American audiences, the show has different resonances altogether. The Folks Operetta has mounted this as the U.S. premiere of Abraham’s work as part of its Reclaimed Voices Series – performances of works by Jewish writers and composers who were banned after the rise of Hitler. 

Abraham, a Hungarian Jew working in Berlin, fled for Vienna – the Nazi’s had banned the study and performance of “decadent” jazz - and when Austria was annexed by Germany, he went home to Hungary and ultimately to the U.S. His style, rooted in the 19th century, couldn’t compete on Broadway or in Hollywood with Gershwin and Cole Porter. 

He continued to create movie scores for the German film industry but never regained his fame. Gerald Frantzen, who is producer, editor and lyricist for Folks Operetta, translated The Flower of Hawaii with dramaturg Hersh Glagov. The humor and pathos come through generally, though at a few points things fall flat, and the story and subplots are more complicated than necessary with romance and intrigue. 

The other dynamic going on with The Flower of Hawaii is a story that seemed to resonate with the audience, perhaps unexpectedly for Folks Operetta – for it is based on events following displacement of the monarchy of an indigenous native people, the Hawaiian islanders. When Queen Liliuokalani moved to establish a stronger monarchy, Americans under the leadership of Samuel Dole deposed her in 1893. The U.S. then.annexed the islands in 1895 and appointed Dole as Governor. This time frame is advanced to the 1920s, and the Governor is a played as a non-singing role by Jerry Miller. The Governor is written in this script as a disreputable drunkard –“I prohibited Probation” he says - and he sealed off the royal palace to forestall any efforts to restore the monarch.

In this telling, updated to the pre-war decade, the heiress to the throne, Princess Lahia (in real life, it was Princess Ka’julani), returns to be crowned in a traditional ceremony. Dissidents hope to throw off the yoke of U.S. imperialism and restore their monarchy. The dissidents have the support of Imperial Japan in this effort.

The audience was clearly tracking this story of sedition. After the coronation ceremony and the reopening of the Hawaiian Royal Palace, the Governor orders the U.S. Navy’s commanding officer to arrest Ladia. When he refuses to do so, the audience burst into applause.

The dance is another aspect of The Flower of Hawaii that is quite notable. It opens with a solo conch-shell dance by Ivory Leonard IV, and his recurring dance appearances are wonderful. Likewise for Ysaye McKeever, who plays Okelani – and seems to lead the company in the expressive traditional Hawaiian dance style. No wonder – McKeever, who is a choreographer for Teatro Luna, has trained in dance in Taipei and has completed her first level of training at Tupuna Kultur, a Tahitian culture school in Moorea, Tahiti.

The Flower of Hawaii runs through July 14 at Stage 773, 1221 W. Belmont. It is a unique cultural experience - and the devotion of Folks Operetta in bringing it to use should be richly rwarded. 

Something Clean, directed by Lauren Shouse, gives us a compelling story, very well acted, and with that touch of magic that comes from a great chemistry in the performers.

The script (by Selina Fillinger) is notable for the way it depicts real human beings who develop and change in the course of the action. Fillinger is an actor, and it shows in the dynamic, truly living characters she places onstage.

It is a story for our times, and tells of three people whose lives have been impacted by a sexual assault. One, whom we meet later in the action, is Joey (Patrick Agada), a tall, strapping, charming, perpetually upbeat counselor at a downtown assault crisis center. 

But first we meet Charlotte (Mary Cross) and Doug (Guy Massey) whose 19-year-old son Kai was involved in an assault. Gradually we learn that he was not a victim (we never meet him), but was the perpetrator. Until Kai was convicted and imprisoned, his parents lived humdrum lives, pretty much on autopilot socially and domestically. Now, they visit their son in jail each week, and their angst festers and threatens their relationship. They are unsuccessful finding couples counseling, with Doug rejecting therapists weekly after a single visit.

As we get to know these two, we sense they are estranged from each other, physically aloof, and alienated from their social circle by the shame of their son’s crime. Charlotte cleans compulsively, and Doug buries himself in his work.

Eventually, Charlotte volunteers at the sexual assault crisis center – and her process of healing commences when she meets Joey. Agada’s performance is deft, and striking. His effusive personality (he is Joey with a "Y" because "I like to end my name with a smile!") makes these two seem an unlikely pair, but they develop a completely convincing bond that seems to draw energy from their work together as actors – informing their portrayals as emotionally connected workers at the center. This relationship and performances are what sustains Something Clean. It is hard to imagine it working without this level of excellence in the roles of Charlotte and Joey. 

Under Joey's nurturance, Charlotte emerges from her protective shell to become a sweet, charming and vulnerable woman. Charlotte’s emotional recovery contributes to Doug’s healing as well – something we see in real life when one person’s therapy ends up addressing their partner’s problems, too. The neutral gray set (Arnel Sanciano) is noteworthy, as is one of the props (which are byJonathan Berg-Einhorn): a book by Jennifer Weiner, I think it was Who Do You Love, a tale that mirrors the emotional dynamics of this show. 

I have to admit I sometimes approach Rivendell Theatre Ensemble’s productions with trepidation that I will end up being more edified than entertained. Something Clean does both, and in no small part because of Mary Cross ‘s great performance – she has her craft nailed, and watching her crawl out of her shell is a delight. Produced in partnership with Sideshow Theatre, (it received funding from The Eliabeth Cheney Foundation) which commissioned the work, Something Clean played to acclaim after premiering at New York’s Roundabout Theatre last month. It runs through July 21 at Victory Gardens Theater (the old Biograph Theater building).

The Ballad of Lefty & Crabbe is a new musical comedy that is so good I found myself lamenting half-way through Act 1 that its run at Underscore Theatre ends July 14 – or ever!

It is hard to imagine anyone not being smitten by it; it is just the type of show that you can imagine endearing itself like Hand to God or Avenue Q to an Off-Off-Broadway audience as it works its way into the hearts of investor angels.

Smartly written and played with boundless verve, it takes us through the rocky path trod by many early 20th Century Vaudeville performers, who hoped to save their flagging careers – decimated by the talkies – by transferring themselves onto celluloid in Hollywood.

The main characters are Theodore “Lefty” Childs (Kyle Ryan) and James “Crabbe” Hathaway (Shea Pender), a pair of comedians not unlike Laurel & Hardy, whose regular performance circuit is disappearing as playhouses convert to movie houses. They board a train to Hollywood and we are introduced to other performers doing likewise. 

On their arrival, the duo quickly is told their brand of humor won’t translate to the screen, and they are cast separately. The portly Crabbe plays the butt of jokes in a series of demeaning “Fatty” movies (a likely nod to the real life Fatty Arbuckle who hailed from Kansas City where this show originated https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roscoe_Arbuckle). The more photogenic Lefty repeatedly plays the unrequited suitor in romantic films. (This character type is vaguely like Dean Martin, Jerry Lewis’s co-star.) Lefty & Crabbe are disillusioned at first, then inspired when the big fat checks arrive from the studio.

We meet so many notable characters and performers it’s hard to list them all – but megaphone-wielding movie director Mac Lloyd (he’s co-author Ben Auxier) is a blast; and blonde bombshell Lolo Carmichael (Elisabeth del Toro) delivers great singing. You will probably enjoy the Mr. Burns-like producer wraith Mr. Rocksfeld Stephanie Boyd). Directed by Rusty Sneary with choreography by JennaShoppe, this show in Underscore’s tiny storefront with just a piano (Annabelle Rivak yields an orchestra from the keyboard) and a dozen earnest players features songs, singing, dance, and performances that are positively top drawer. 

There is also a depth to the show, as the characters eventually tire of the vaporous Tinsel Town success and long for live performances before real people. Perhaps we're hearing a warning drawn from another era's experience with media transfoprmation that seems to parallel the offline longing engendered by our own digital age.

The writing team (book by Ben Auxier, Brian Huther and Seth Macci with music and lyrics by Auxier and Huther) has clearly drawn inspiration from the vaults of old time stage comics to adapt into this show’s slapstick schtick, with fast-paced dialog, smart jokes and throwaway one-liners. It is so quick, my mind did double-takes, provoking laughter sometimes mid-way into the next scene.

The Ballad of Lefty & Crabbe was originally work shopped and produced by the Living Room Theatre in Kansas City, MO, and was produced last year in a new musicals festival in Chicago. You won’t want to miss this run at Underscore Theatre – it’s highly recommended. See it through July 14 at 4609 N. Clark St. in Chicago. 

When Chicago drag performer Joan Jett Blakk ran for President in 1992 – the year Bill Clinton was nominated – it was certainly the most outré act of political insurrection Americans had seen – for those who noticed, anyway. It’s unlikely the Tribune and Sun-Times gave her candidacy much coverage.

Now Steppenwolf Theater is telling her story, in Ms. Blakk for President, timed for Gay Pride Month and the 50th Anniversary of the Stonewall Uprising.Let me tell you something: it will make you laugh and cheer.

This show is particularly special for its genesis – co-authored by Tina Landau (who directed) and Tarell McCraney. McCraney also plays Joan Jett Blakk in a shoot-for-the-stars great performance. McCraney has also had several other plays produced at Steppenwolf. Oh, and he chairs Playwriting at Yale. Oh, and he also won an Oscar for the script with Barry Jenkins for Moonlight. To put it bluntly, this is a moment in Chicago theater you will not want to miss.

The real Joan Jett Blakk, Terence Alan Smith, was a transgressive performance artist who dashed straight cultural and political norms. Smith has collaborated on this play, which finally gives him his due. Running for Mayor of Chicago against Richard M. Daley in 1990, as a black, gay, man in drag, this Queer Nation Party candidate was well ahead of her time. Then she went on to the Democratic National Convention, gaining credentials and making it to the floor. OMG!

In fact, Joan Jett Blakk actually ran twice for President of the U.S. – in 1992 and 1996 – and some of her best lines are put to the service of this show – “Lick Bush in ’92!” “If a bad actor can be elected president, why not a good drag queen?” Doesn't that convey the power of drag?

Her platforms included legalizing all drugs, and to have “dykes on bikes” secure our borders. She posed as Angela Davis in a wicker chair holding a machine gun, but turning that violent Black Panther slogan “By Any Means Necessary” to something altogether mind-bending, delivering power on another plane. That is what Joan Jett Blakk was all about.

The very subversiveness of Blakk’s drag queen candidacy by necessity is ephemeral. Seeing it staged, against the gay liberation protests and demands made at the Madison Square Garden Democrativ Convention for AIDS support and abortion choice, reminds us of not just how far society has come, but how fragile those victories remain.

Landau and Jenkins felt that a more experiential play would tell the story better. So the Steppenwolf has been converted to a drag show bar, with a runway, cocktail table seating, and familiar denizens (some look like Village People types). The audience is encouraged to dress in drag, I suspect, because many did the night I saw it. And some ask questions of the candidate in a free-flowing town hall.

Ms. Blakk for President relates basic factual aspects of the history: how Joan Jett Blakk got to New York (the Limelight Nightclub flew her); where she stayed (a former trick put her up); how she got credentials, and her path the floor of Madison Square Garden, appearing after a young Rep. Maxine Waters and Gov. Mario Cuomo gave nominating speeches. We see clips of those speakers from the real convention.

It is a great story – and Landau and McCraney give us an entertaining semblance of a drag show, with the requisite vamping, dancing, vogueing – all supporting McCraney’s high energy performance. She reveals Smith’s internal process as he changes from an ordinary black man to Joan Jett Blakk, while lying in a stall in the men’s room at Madison Square Garden. It was an almost sacramental transformation, that emancipated Smith into the powerful Joan Jett Blakk. (Smith chose not to use falsies or hide his male body; she donned gold earrings, makeup, and a tight-fitting spaghetti strap flag dress before joining the throngs on the floor). You can see photos of the real dress on the real Joan Jett Blakk in the theater lobby. 

Smith’s achievement with Joan Jett Blakk would be easy for contemporary viewers to overlook – she arrived long before characters like Ru Paul and from Queer Eye for the Straight Guy became household names. If you were around at the time and became aware of her campaigns, you were either tickled or repulsed. But there was a deadly serious element here: gay liberation was taking to the streets, and Queer Nation and ACT UP were demanding action on gay issues– which were largely disregarded by the political mainstream.

Joann Jett Blakk’s campaign brought an element of street theater to bear on pressing issues: LGBTQ Rights, gay oppression and discrimination, marriage equality, and the AIDS crisis. The establishment could only have viewed Smith’s run as an act of political insolence.

This show is good theater, and the play itself accomplishes its slapdash tale-telling, albeit with some loose threads, like the recuring wraith, dressed in popular drag roles, who gives Joan guidance at crossroads in her life. (It kinda sucks.) We do get to know Joan Jett Black, and through her, Terence Alan Smith. We get a pretty good sense of the streams of gay political movement – the more fiery queer rage and the more conciliatory gay gradualists who find drag threatening. The play is male-centric, given its drag focus, a fact that is acknowledged from the stage.

And this work is self-aware – largely a farce, and admittedly so. But it does chronicle someone who made an important contribution to our poltiics and society, by any means necessary.” Ms. Blakk for President” is lots of fun, big laughs, and will also draw you to spontaneous applause for those political statements that ring even truer today. The experience is extended with after-show talks, the DJ SLO'MO at Steppenwolf's Front Bar on Friday nights, and other events. Ms. Blakk for President  runs through July 14 at Steppenwolf Theater. 

*Extended through July 21st

The Physical Theater Festival, running through June 9 at Stage 773, is an exciting opportunity to really enjoy theater from around the world.

It overcomes the biggest barrier to shows from abroad – language – by reducing or eliminating the spoken script, subordinating it to broad movement, pantomime, facial expressions - that convey as much or more than words do. It also shows off a performance style that seems to spring from improvisational roots, while drawing the better aspects of mime.

Now in its sixth year, the Physical Theater Festival runs in tandem with workshops by these accomplished global artists,for actors interested in learning the techniques. held in the same Stage 773 location at 1225 W. Belmont. It includes performers from Brazil, India, UK, Canada, Belgium and other countries, with acts that run from 60 to 90 minutes.

We had a chance to catch two of them – Next Door, performed by Out of Balanz, a duo from Finland and Denmark; and Helga: Life of a Diva Extraordinaire, a one-woman show by the Kallo Collective of Finland, performed by Henni Kervinen, a circus artist. It is nearly wordless, and both highly entertaining, and quite distinctive. Helga is performed as a caricature, and exaggerated protrait of an apparently crabby and lonely old woman spending her days reading the paper and drinking bitter expresso. But wait - she ahd a past, a glamorous and exciting past. She dispells our prejudices about her condition by moving onto a trapeze in a spoof of a high wire act. 

Next Door was a poignant telling of the story of a man in Copenhagen, Ivan Hansen, who becomes aware, belatedly, of the death of an elderly man in a neighboring apartment. The two were in close proximity – they were separated by the wall about 18 inches thick between their domiciles – but weren’t close at all.

Ivan learns, about a month after the fact, that his elderly neighbor had collapsed and died just the other side of his bedroom wall, probably while Ivan was standing by inches away. This realization triggers an hour-long depiction of his upbringing in Copenhagen, with reenactments of his best friends enclouters, the apartment in which he was raised with his brother, times with his parents, and his youthful adventures with his buddies.

The digressions are tremendously entertaining, with brief narrative transitions (in English), as the two characters move us to insights into our individual human conditions. It was very powerful. Here's a traler to give you a sense of what a performance is like:

The Festival begain in 2014, when Alice da Cunha and Marc Frost originally launched the Chicago Physical Theater Festival through the Artistic Associate program at Links Hall. The inspiration for the Festival drew upon their combined experience in London as physical theater students at the London International School for the Performing Arts (LISPA). Moving from London to Chicago, they were inspired to start a new festival to promote a more progressive, fresh and physical approach to theater-making in Chicago. Do try to catch one or more of these shows for an exceptional experience. And mark your calendar for the next series in 2020, so you don’t miss it. www.physicalfestival.com 

Organic Theater has done such a wonderful job in The Memo, it is hard to imagine a more perfect presentation of this play by Czech writer and statesmen, Václav Havel.

The Memo is at turns funny and unsettling. While the original The Memorandum is rooted in the totalitarian Eastern Europe, in Paul Wilson’s fresh translation as The Memo, it reads as a commentary on the increasingly overbearing pressures today to perform in professional settings. That pressure is often ratcheted up to effect performance toward ambitious goals, often harnessing social pressure and WeWork-style perks toward these ends.

Set in a mythical office (the set is all in grays is by Terrence McClellan), The Memo opens with clerks busily waltzing in a stylized manner through the office, processing manila files. This and other transition scenes are choreographed by Erica Bittner, with music by Tony Reimer. Then a derby-wearing executive arrives with a bright red folder.. When he places it in the inbox on the main desk, the movement screeches to a halt, and the action and dialog commence.

Inside that red folder is the titular memo. The Managing Director, Gross (Tricia Rogers) struggles to read what sounds like gibberish (does she have it upside down?). Soon her shark-like Assistant Director, Balas (Joel Moses) arrives, joined at the hip now by that same mysterious derby-topped exec Kubs (Subhash Thakrar). Kubs speaks only through facial expressions – Thakrar is marvelous throughout with his big face an d exaggerated mugging. 

Balas explains that this memo is written a new, language – PTYDEPE – scientifically created for precision of expression, as a means to improved efficiency. It is being rolled out in administrative offices everywhere.
And it is here where The Memo strikes a dagger in the heart of the contemporary cultural ethos: those who adopt PTYDEPE will succeed, those who don’t will fall by the wayside - not so different than office apps that come and go. We watch as the Executive Director is coaxed into signing an authorization for this roll out, which then leads to the implementation of a PTYDEPE training department, and an unfolding world where The Office comes pickled in an Orwellian brine of 1984.

For context, Havel was that rare “poet king” who helped lead his people to freedom. Before the Arab Spring there was a failed Prague Spring (1968), an effort to liberate Czechoslovakia from the Communist Block. Dissident Havel ended up in prison. As with China today and the Soviet Union back then, Czechoslovakia’s totalitarian censorship inspired a flourishing expression of dark humored workarounds, lampoons, and with Havel, absurdist plays like The Memorandum– discrete takedowns of the excesses of central control.

While the object of the humor was obvious to audiences - the government censors could not pin down objections in those subtly subversive words on the page, making the power of the works even stronger. Eventually Czechoslovakia’s Velvet Revolution (1989) precipitated the fall of the Soviet Union, and Havel became president of his now independent homeland. 

The performances and Havel’s characters are magnetic. The intellectual currency that the Organic Theater’s troupe has brought to The Memo is inestimable, informing inspired performances by supporting actors like Mary Mikva as the Director’s Assistant and Kris Downing as Translation Assistant. (Downing was awesome in Organic's production of The Melancholy Play, too.)

In particular the performance of Nick Bryant as J.V. Brown, the PTYDEPE trainer, is inspired – and a tour de force of acting as he shifts back and forth translating nonsense language to English with the passion of a revival preacher. You will love and surely recognize the many denizens of this office, incluidng Stephanie Sullivan as Kalous; Schanora Wimpie as Masat; Kate Black-Spence as Kunc; and Laura Sturm as Talaura. Don’t miss the chance to see The Memo, running at the Greenhouse Theater through June 16.