Displaying items by tag: Chaon Cross

It’s a rainy night in Edinburgh, a divorce lawyer name Helena is sitting alone in the corner of a pub. She has just been stood up by her lover who so happened to be married to another woman. Across the room is a petty criminal named Bob who’s reading Notes from Underground by Fyodor Dostoevsky to cheer him up, somber from a life he feels is unfulfilled. Helena takes a chance and approaches Bob with a bottle of wine in her hand. From there, the characters catapult the audience into a chaotic weekend and will give you a theatre experience that will have you filled with bliss and laughter.

David Greig’s 'Midsummer (A Play with Songs)' is a delightful retelling of a weekend Bob, and Helena never expected to be the weekend that would change their lives forever. They grab the audience by the arm and pull them into the lives of two middle-aged adults tormented by an unsatisfaction with the outcome of their lives. Two lost souls that clash together out of desperation to feel a connection. After a one night stand, they conclude that they can never be compatible, but, of course, life has a funny way of keeping them together.  

In this unconventional romantic comedy, Bob and Helena not only poke fun at themselves and the dozen characters they interact with, but they take moments to rant away the misgivings of life. They do so in such an elegant and humorous way that doesn’t force the audience to feel sorry for them but rather feel connected to them. Midsummer is a play that calls for the two main actors to play sixteen parts between them, play an instrument, act and sing wonderfully and do this all in a Scottish accent. A challenge well accepted by Chicago celebrated Chaon Cross and Patrick Mulvey. Both actors show a chemistry that comes across as natural as two college buddies taking a night out on the town. 

Chaon Cross is a joy to watch. A force that draws you in with her passionate performance. In a production where the actors simply move to the side, rather than leave the stage, while the other takes the spotlight. Chaon Cross calls for your attention even in the shadows of the background. 

In saying that, Patrick Mulvey, who this past spring played the title role in David Auburn’s The Adventures of Augie March, performance is not to be overlooked. He will have you laughing out loud from beginning to end and absorbs the character of Bob so well it’s hard to imagine anyone else filling in that role. 

By calling itself a play with songs and not just a musical, the play strips away the notion that you will be sitting through a dry tale that forces long musical numbers in your ears. Instead, Midsummer offers easy listening acoustics with quirky lyrics that enhances the story rather than push it along. Certain songs will follow you well after the show is over. One may bubble up in the back of your head after waking up to a nasty hangover; "The Hangover Song" or you may find yourself quietly singing the chorus of a song called "Japanese Rope Bondage" in the shower (I mean, the play has a song called "The Song of Bob’s Cock"). This alone should give you an indication that this production will take you to a place you may have never been before.   

If you have ever watched a Hollywood produced rom-com in the last twenty years, you will find 'Midsummer’s' world familiar. The plot hits all the points you’ve seen in almost every romantic comedies. And there’s nothing wrong with that. It wouldn’t be a romantic comedy if there weren’t a risk of the relationship to never be or a secret Bob and Helena hide from each other to keep you involved. Despite its familiarity, the characters will also lead you into refreshing avenues as they tell their story. One example is when Bob leads you into his mind as he battles with his consciousness with the fact that his youth is long gone. 

In a theatre where you could sit on the top row and toss a quarter onto the stage with a flick of the wrist, there’s seem to be no limit on what the actors can do on and off the stage. Bob and Helena invites you into the bedroom they shared, inside their minds, and they will hand you their heart. They dare you to not only listen but to part take. To join in as they sing and dance and interact as they stumble around the stage in a hangover haze. They’ll have you looking left and right and out your chair to get a better view of the moment even if you’re sitting in the front row. 'Midsummer (A Play with Songs)' is a smart and exciting gem that would be a shame to miss. 

'Midsummer (A Play with Songs)' runs through October 6, 2019, at Greenhouse Theatre Center on Lincoln Ave.

Walking in as curtain time neared for Photograph 51, the towering set took my breath away: a backdrop nearly three-stories tall, built of a latticework of delicately framed, vertical windowpanes with spiral staircases swirling down at each end, to meet a floor of foot-square hexagonal tiles.

Heavy quarter-sawn oak laboratory tables and cabinets filled the setting, a research lab that would play a pivotal role in the discovery of the structure of DNA molecules. As the play commenced, illumination flowed down the pillars of the window panels and along the irregular channels at the edges of the tile, creating an electrifying vision - mimicking the hexagon shape of those DNA molecules.

Strains of an evocative original score swelled as the action began in the laboratories of King’s College in London - the site of crucial research that led to the now familiar double helix structure of DNA molecules described by University of Cambridge researchers (and eventual Nobel laureates) James Watson and Francis Crick.

This play tells of unsung research heroine in that saga, Rosalind Franklin (played excellently by Chaon Cross), a chemist whose X-ray crystallography photographs (Photograph 51 was the big one) that provided a visual key unlocking the riddle of how DNA molecules were structured.

Watson (Alex Goodrich) and Crick (Nicholas Harazin) went on to Nobel glory, as did Franklin’s research partner Maurice Wilkins (played by Nathan Hosner), while Franklin’s pivotal role was largely forgotten. That is, until Watson’s outrageously misogynist portrayal of her in Double Helix, his autobiography. As the rare creature of her day, a woman research scientist, Franklin suffered the critiques of male peers that are familiar - she wasn't feminine enough, was hard to get along with, made the least of herself in dress and style. Needless to say,  these were taken more seriously in the 1950s. 

"Why collaborate with someone who's hard to get along with," as one of Franklin's peers puts it. Nonetheless, in this retelling of the story, Franklin asserted herself, insisting she be accorded equal respect, and resisting attempts to subordinate her research to her male lab partner, Maurice Wilkins.

"Dr. Wilkins, I will not be anyone's assistant," Franklin tells him, and she insists he refer to her as Dr. Franklin. 

Watson’s characterization of Franklin in Double Helix was widely criticized. Harvard, where Watson was teaching, refused to publish it.
Watson’s reputation and career has also been devastated by his advancement of theories that there is a link between race and intelligence.

Having lost his income, he became the only Nobel prize winner who to sell his award. U of C, which sustains the Court Theatre, may be trying to get on the right side of the issue by presenting Franklin’s story on stage – though it might want to revisit the distinguished alumni award it made to Watson in 2007. 

Would that the play measured up to such worthy goals, and the promise of its sets by Arnel Sancianco (scenic design), Keith Parham (lighting) Jeffrey Levin (sound). Instead, we have a show with great acting and production values – it reminds me of a Netflix pilot film – but with a story line, yet only a wandering plotline.

Plays need a drama to succeed, and instead we are given a timeline. All very interesting, to be sure, but not gripping.
As a result, instead of Franklin being the star of her own story, she is a supporting character. The closest thing we have to a protagonist is her partner Wilkens, who secretly carried a torch for her. That these scientists are such a nerdy bunch must have made it all the more difficult for playwright Anna Ziegler to develop the work. It was a success in London starring Nicole Kidman. The University of Chicago lent its academic bona fides and knowledge base to Court Theater’s production, and that greatly enriches the show.

There are moments, to be sure, including a wonderful soliloquy on the loneliness of a scientist's pursuit of knowledge. Likewise, the tortured moments of Wilkins, who struggled to recognize and express his feelings for Franklin.

We have a wonderful theatrical spectacle, and the direction by Vanessa Stalling made the most of Photograph 51, “mining Ziegler’s text for all its thematic complexities,” as artistic director Charles Newell puts it. Watson & Crick’s discovery in 1953 of the double helix changed history, and our view of ourselves as humans. The knowledge of DNA’s role – and the potential for engineering new directions using it – is the basis for a world of change in arts and sciences.

Photograph 51 is an illuminating story, and we are fortunate it is being told so beautifully - and perhaps that is enough to recommend it. The show runs through February 17 at Court Theatre.

*Now playing through February 23, 2019

The Chicago premiere of a Tom Stoppard play is one of the most hotly anticipated events of this season. We’re never short for great Stoppard productions in this town, but The Hard Problem was Stoppard’s first new play in nine years when it debuted in 2015, and since Court Theatre’s Charlie Newell can be trusted to mount a strong production, the author is undoubtedly the main draw. Some of his best-known plays, such as the recently produced Travesties and Arcadia, were extremely complicated, sprawling works which required the audience to have a sizable pre-existing knowledge of artistic movements and the interplay between culture and technology, but The Hard Problem, as the title states, zeroes in on a single issue which, depending on which side of it you fall on, might not really seem to be a problem at all. Whether the mind is a function of the brain or has an ethereal quality is not something Stoppard attempts to answer definitively, but the degree to which this play interests you will largely depend on your investment in the debate.

Chaon Cross owns the part of Hilary, the only fully three-dimensional character in the play. A young psychologist whose path in life has had some unexpected hiccups, Hilary is dependent on Spike (Jürgen Hooper), an evolutionary biologist, to help her fake the mathematical credentials she needs to get a job with the Krohl Institute, a research lab dedicated to solving the mind-body problem. She doesn’t even particularly want to work there, but it was the only place she applied to and heard back from. Spike is an utterly noxious, self-justifying proponent of evolutionary psychology, but it seems to be more than just a need to be perceived as good at data processing which causes Hilary to keep inviting him into her bed. Anyway, it turns out that Leo (Brian McCaskill), the man running the part of the Krohl Institute Hilary’s interested in, shares her preference for psychology over neurology, and she gets the job on her own merits.

The Krohl Institute was created by Jerry Krohl (Nathan Hosner), a billionaire hedge fund manager, to help him gain an edge over other traders. Krohl himself doesn’t really care whether the brain is a meat computer or a conduit for the sublime; he just wants to eliminate uncertainty in practical matters. Early on, we meet Amal (Owais Ahmed), a mathematician who holds the position that the soul is flesh and whom Krohl later punishes for publicly predicting the 2008 crash instead of keeping it close to the vest. Amal’s growing disillusion with humans’ capacity for rational thought is driven largely by what he sees happening in the stock market, but he’s reluctant to fall into line with Hilary’s belief that this leaves us with no alternatives but belief in some kind of divinity.

The plot concerns Hilary’s struggle with a job that was never a good fit for her while her entire field appears to be in jeopardy. But Stoppard’s interest seems to be in how nobody really wants to acknowledge the true implications of their belief system, whatever that happens to be. Hilary is a less forceful arguer than Spike, but Newell’s centering of her on stage almost throughout the show and Cross’s commitment to her full range of emotions prevent us from dismissing her. Stoppard has also made her opponents repulsive Thersites-like characters, while Hilary’s on-stage ally is the kind-hearted, idealistic Bo (Emjoy Gavino). John Culbert’s scenic design doesn’t give them very many hiding places, which is perhaps why they resort to vicious verbal, and eventually, physical confrontations to make their points.

If Stoppard’s goal was to show how the debate over the hard problem spills out of sealed realms such as universities and think tanks to strike at peoples’ deepest vulnerabilities, the flatness of the other characters prevents him from quite getting there. However, he does a good enough job of illustrating his point for us to understand it. A great many people love Stoppard and Court Theatre simply for having these conversations, with no expectation the problem will be resolved. Pointing out how divorced from real life rationalism and rationalizations are is enough to make a fruitful evening, and getting to experience it being put so eloquently by fine actors is a bonus.

Recommended

The Hard Problem plays at Court Theatre through April 9, with performances on Wednesdays and Thursdays at 7:30 pm, Fridays at 8:00 pm, Saturdays at 3:00 pm and 8:00 pm, and Sundays at 2:30 pm and 7:30 pm. Running time is one hour and forty minutes with no intermission. Tickets are $48–68; to order, call 773-753-4472 or visit CourtTheatre.org. For more information, see TheatreinChicago.com.

As soon as you enter the beautiful set that designer Brian Sidney Bembridge, has created for “Life Sucks", you are tip-toeing through what feels like a real forest of delicately lit white birch trees in the light of early evening in Autumn. 

The action then proceeds mostly on the front porch, and dining room/kitchen of a quaint country style house, complete with a small dock and row boat mired in mud, to indicate this is the log cabin style home of someone wealthy enough to live on a lake but not doing well enough any longer to afford a real boat, which turns out to be true.  

The seven characters enter the stage with house lights up and immediately break the fourth wall by letting the audience know a few things about the play, it has four acts with one intermission, and asking insightful questions like, "Do you think people in a hundred years will care how hard we worked?" Which immediately reminded me of the old joke, "What's the opposite of a nymphomaniac?" with the punchline, "a workaholic."

The next question, for the cast only, has them throwing out an enticing list of their "favorite things" ..."the feel of ice cubes swirling around in a heavy crystal drink glass filled with brandy...and what comes after", "a beautiful sunset over the water" and the adorable, "Kittens!" And once more for emphasis, "KITTENS!" and lest we think this is going to be a saccharine sweet play i.e. "The Sound of Music" - "the feeling of anticipation when you know that you are about to have an orgasm".

Ensemble member Andrew White directs deftly with a light hand, keeping the pace of the play moving in an enjoyable way and flowing from act to act naturally, sensually, without the feeling of rushing.

So many directors charged with productions that exceed two hours or are under ninety minutes with no intermission seem to be rushing the actor’s monologues and dialogue. In some cases you can imagine them standing offstage tapping their feet saying, "Pick up the pace people!", which can actually ruin the show, but Andrew White does just the opposite, calming the audience into actually receiving the message this play is trying to deliver. 

“Life Sucks” is an updated version of the Checkov play "Uncle Vanya" and every single one of the seven characters really holds their own throughout.

Eddie Jemison best known for his work from "Ocean's Eleven", "Waitress" and "Hung" is proof that dynamite comes in small packages as he takes on the role of the middle aged, depressed Vanya. 

The entire cast sprinkle the play with so many humorous Yiddish slang terms with adorable ease like the term "ferkocta" which means crazy in the head, or Vanya declaring over and over that Ella is his "beshert" and soulmate, meaning a person's destined love or a love that was meant to be, a love of heavenly creation. All the while Vanya’s pathos as his obsession with The Professor's beautiful, young wife Ella grows out of control. This leads to a hysterical attack on The Professors life as he describes in a monologue how vile, disgusting and unnatural it is to him that she (Ella) should be with such an "old man".  

The Professor is played perfectly by Jim Ortlieb (Billy Elliot) whose great monologue about how even small signs of aging in a man can ultimately ruin a perfectly good relationship is fantastic. We rarely hear the male point of view on this.

The Professor describes while comically, yet realistically, sliding and crawling down the front steps of the cabin in complete exhaustion after a fight with his young wife Ella - how a man sees in the mirror one day. He now sees his soft belly or some new wrinkles or gray hair and feels insecure leading him to take it out on his partner and she in turn becomes more insecure herself - resulting in more fighting and insecurity or his worst fear of all as she "becomes disengaged" from him entirely.

Chaon Cross as Ella is excellent as the young Master's Degree student who "married the smartest Professor in the whole college" and is hit on by every middle aged loser in this small town. Cross delivers a great monologue ala - don't hate me because I'm beautiful because my brilliant husband turned out to be an aging, ego-maniacal alcoholic. 

Ella asks the audience flat out how many of them want to sleep with her with no strings attached by a show of hands, then asks how many are dying to sleep with someone other than whom they are with - and it is a well delivered, very funny and telling moment for the audience. 

Danielle Zuckerman as Sonia seems to be the opposite of Ella. She is The Professors' only daughter and honestly describes how in her family, "It's like everyone is hard-wired to upset everyone else. Like we each have a bunch of buttons on our back that each one of us knows how to push." 

Sonia knows she is not beautiful, or even pretty, she knows that her weight and height, glasses and curly hair are never featured in the magazines she reads and Zuckerman gives a great, breath of fresh air feeling to the entire production that it inherently needs. In one scene with Ella she admits to actually "hating" Ella for her beauty and attractiveness to ALL the nearby men and Ella forces her to "slap her right in the face" which Sonia does. After the "enjoyable" catharsis of the slap in the face they pour rum and Cokes together and begin to bond as both stepmother and friends. 

Another great scene between Sonia and Dr. Aster, a middle-aged Lothario who wants to change the world - but only talks about it, occurs when Sonia tries to tell the doctor she has a crush on him. When she realizes Dr. Aster is 'in love" with Ella too, she delivers a great monologue after his exit about how she talked with him about "mystical butterflies' when she really wanted to say, "Take me upstairs and f-ck me, f-ck me so well and so hard the whole universe stops to watch ... and the stars stop in their orbits and her whole body finally understands what it is to be truly alive...but instead I talked about mystical butterflies."

Ensemble member, Philip R. Smith, best known for his roles in "High Fidelity" and “Since You've Been Gone" is very funny in the role of Dr. Aster, an admitted alcoholic who rambles on about the very real dangers of climate change and other depressing subjects that remind us these characters are living in the present day.

Another example of the timeliness and universality of this play is when at one point an audience member is asked what his deepest, darkest fear is and he answered without hesitation, "Donald Trump", which got a huge laugh.

Penelope Walker plays "Pickles", a lesbian (who ALSO flirts with Ella). Pickles is a neighbor and friend of Sonia's late mother who wanted to be a real artist but ended up crafting what looked like leg warmers for the birch trees to wear and hand puppets made of yarn. Walker is funny and upbeat as the character whose age we can't quite tell, the free-spirited loser we all love who would never say life sucks even if hers does.

At the end of the show, Vanya and the cast break the fourth wall for the last time and confront the entire audience with the question, "Does life suck?" Some people shouted “yes”, or “no”, I shouted “sometimes”. Then Vanya called specifically out to the woman sitting two seats away from me (his wife) and asked her, she poignantly answered, "No it does not suck because life is beautiful – there is even beauty in its pain." I had to agree with her. 

Highly recommended.

“Life Sucks is being performed at Lookingglass Theatre through November 6th – www.Lookingglasstheatre.org.