Displaying items by tag: Eileen Doan

I first read JRR Tolkien’s trilogy, The Lord of the Rings, when I was eleven; since then I have reread the entire story almost every year. My birthday is September 22, same as Bilbo and Frodo. The quote [NOT that of the One Ring!] tattooed on my arm is in Sindarin, the Elvish language. I travelled to New Zealand on an LotR tour and later lived in NZ for 2 years. So, understand that I’m not just a fan of, but fanatical about The Lord of the Rings. Believe me when I say I most definitely know Tolkien’s type.  

In 1999 when the first of the three movies came out, I was terrified, as I’ve never seen a movie based on a book I loved that was not totally calamitous. But Peter Jackson is a god, and he did as wonderful an adaptation as humanly possible (though I’ll never forgive him for Faramir).

So, when I first learned that the Chicago Shakespeare Theater was producing Lord of the Rings onstage, I immediately put in a request to review it for Buzz Center Stage. As the event drew closer, however, I started getting anxious: LotR a musical?! But my misgivings lightened as, about ten minutes before the production began, costumed characters started larking about together onstage and off-. And the opening song, ‘The Road Goes On’, melted my doubts (as well as my heart) altogether: it was beautiful, and so right!

From the start it was clear there were two distinct groups in the sold-out house: those who were LotR fans (though I daresay few as monomaniacal as myself), and those who were meeting hobbits, elves, and wizards for the first time. My companion was of the latter group – he knew the basics of the story but had no true familiarity with it – so exploring his views made an interesting counterpoint with my own.

The cast and company were enormous; forgive me if I don’t praise everyone individually but only comment on the standouts.

Only the expertise and artistry of Directors Edward Hall and Kimberly Motes could produce such a monumental show. I’ll always see Aragon as quintessentially Viggo Mortensen, but Bob Mason’s casting was spot on: Will James Jr. fully engaged me in the role. Sir Ian McKellan is a tough act to follow, but Tom Amandes’ Gandalf was magnificent. The Hobbits – Eileen Doan as Merry, Ben Mathew as Pippin, Michael Kurowski as heroic Sam Gamgee, and Rick Hall as Bilbo – were all sensational – though I wish we’d heard more from them and gotten to know them better. Frodo’s is a very complex character, from the lighthearted Frodo of Bag End to the tormented Frodo on Mount Doom; a challenge for any actor. Elijah Wood nailed it of course, and so amazingly did Spencer Davis Milford. [It’s true Spencer isn’t (quite) as cute as Elijah, but then few folks are.]

The highest kudos I must reserve for Tony Bozzuto, whose portrayal of Gollum was phenomenal. Bozzuto accomplished the physical gymnastics of that kinetic creature and faultlessly enacted the contradictory mindset of that haunted, driven … what? not a person, more a wraith or an apparition, and a groveling vassal of the unholy trinity: the Ring, the Dark Lord, and Frodo Baggins, simultaneously and irreconcilably. Poor Gollum! Bozzuto managed to incite in me both Sam’s cynical aversion and Frodo’s compassionate empathy. He owned the stage whenever he appeared.

Justin Albinder (Legolas), Ian Maryfield (Gimli), and Matthew C Yee (Boromir) completed the Fellowship of the Ring, appointed by Jeff Parker as Elrond (and later pursued by Parker as Saruman). Unfortunately, we never got a chance to know any of them, aside from a few quips (“Never trust an Elf!”)

LotR is no chick flick; it’s totally a bloke’s story, but the sensual Arwen (Alina Taber) injected a bit of estrogen. I was disappointed at Galadriel: Lauren Zakrin played the terrifyingly beautiful elven queen, but the sound / mic system (Chicago Sound Designer Nicholas Pope) failed to capture the full range of Zakrin ‘s lovely soprano voice.  

Spencer Davis Milford as Frodo and Lauren Zakrin as Galadriel in Chicago Shakespeare’s US premiere of The Lord of the Rings – A Musical Tale, based on J.R.R. Tolkien’s beloved trilogy of books.

The most awesome scene in the movie Fellowship of the Ring is when Gandalf defies the Balrog, and by far the most wrenching scene is the desolation of the Fellowship, most especially Frodo, when Gandalf falls. This production gave us none of that. We barely hear Gandalf’s final gasp of “Fly, you fools!”. Then, when the Fellowship reconvenes afterwards, there is no reaction from the characters. Aragorn rather reminded me of the monitor on a primary school trip: “Everyone get to the bathroom? All here? Ok, let’s go”.

It was necessary, of course, to cut a great deal of material to bring the production in at three hours. One thing they cut was Book Two, The Two Towers. There’s no mention of Rohan at all, only nominal lines from Treebeard (voice by John Lithgow). They don’t go to Minas Tirith, no acknowledgement of (let alone depiction of a battle) Helm’s Deep. I don’t mind skipping Tom Bombadil, I never much liked him any road, but why on earth does Gandalf mention him at the end? Those unfamiliar with the books were left thinking ‘Huh? Tom Bombadil? Who dat?’

Scenic and Props Designer Simon Kenny, working with David Castellanos’ Stage Management crew, had a monumental task enacting the myriad venues and tableaus the characters move through, from the buoyant gaiety of the Shire, through the mystical glory of Lothlorien, to the malevolent horror of Mordor, with all number of epic battles generously interspersed. These phantasmagorias were enhanced by Light Designer Rory Beaton (albeit with a couple of glitches). Many of Kenny’s costumes were superb – the Black Riders in particular were truly terrifying – but not so much with the monsters, Balrog et al. And I’m not sure about Galadriel’s outfit; I kept losing track of the action in speculating whether it was a dress or a catsuit.

Oh! The Music! … yeah, that’s right; this is a musical. Book and lyrics were written by Shaun McKenna and Matthew Warchus, and the music composed by AR Rahman, Värttinä, and Christopher Nightingale. Each composer’s background and style was evident within the whole.

Christopher Nightingale is a prolific composer, orchestrator, director, and conductor, celebrated in the UK as well as the US. AR Rahman is said to have ‘redefined contemporary Indian music’. His music has been brought to national attention by multiple Academy Awards, Grammys, a Golden Globe and a BAFTA, and he brought his Eastern imprint to bear on the music of THE LORD OF THE RINGS. Värttinä is a contemporary Finnish group with a folk music/roots-based style, using multiple vocals and instrumentalists to combine traditional Finno-Ugric elements with traditional and original compositions.

I can’t pinpoint which portion of which songs derived from which composer, but it’s my private opinion that Värttinä’s folkloric imprint was what brought special charisma and bewitchment to my favorite compositions in THE LORD OF THE RINGS. For example, the introductory The Road Goes On and both enactments of Song of the Traveller were exquisite. And in Act 2, Now and for Always was resplendent, coupling Sam’s poignant lines with Gollum’s piteous voice.

Other numbers, unfortunately, did not rise to this level. Some I must describe as saccharine and others vapid: trite, repetitive, and/or simply too damn long. The production could benefit from using some of that unproductive time by deepening other portions of the show.

The Finale was, in a word, jarring. The message throughout Act II is that, after such frightful trials and momentous events, however triumphant, life simply cannot “go back to normal”. Yet Finale seems to be attempting to bring the story full circle, returning to the celebratory ambience of the Birthday Party in the Shire. A song that combined consolation with hope would, to my mind, be more harmonious with the canon.

[Sorry, can’t help it; I’m a hopeless LotR nerd! Geek]

Jeff Parker as Elrond and Spencer Davis Milford as Frodo, at center, with Will James Jr. as Aragorn, Ian Maryfield as Gimli, Eileen Doan as Merry, Michael Kurowski as Sam, Alina Jenine Taber as Arwen, Ben Mathew as Pippin, Tom Amandes as Gandalf, Justin Albinder as Legolas, and Matthew C. Yee as Boromir.

The acting was universally excellent, from the pivotal roles of Frodo, Gandalf and Gollum to those of Rosie Cotton (Suzanne Hannau) and the Ensemble: Joey Faggion, Mia Hilt, James Mueller, Jarais Musgrove, Hannah Novak, Adam Qutaishat, Laura Savage, Bernadette Santos Schwegel, and Arik Vega. Amandes was absolutely magnificent in Gandalf’s confrontation of the Balrog at the Bridge of Khazad-dúm. James’ Aragorn was regally magnetic; he brought Aragorn’s character deftly and smoothly from the rude Ranger of the North to the august High King of Gondor.

Frodo … Frodo Frodo Frodo. One of my favorite characteristics of Frodo is that of a reluctant hero – a small and insignificant person who finds himself a hero by simply doing what must be done. Milford’s acting was compelling and poignant, capturing this subtle but crucial quality. And I’ve already spoken of Bozzuto’s brilliance as Gollum.  These two actors delivered Tony-level performances.

The choreography and movement, directed by Anjali Mehra, with Fight Captains Ian Maryfield and dance captain Laura Savage, were less impressive. Again, the opening scene and song was very well done, but that good first impression was not sustained. In several scenes the ‘dancing’ consisted of merely keeping the bodies in motion with no rationale or allure, particularly with the orcs. Granted, orcs possess negligible symmetry, not to mention allure. However, the Nazgul’s maneuvers and actions in the early scenes [Flight to the Ford] were quite effective in communicating menace. [NOTE: A Maori haka* illustrates how eloquently movements can convey threat.] The center turntable was helpful in some scenes, but it doesn’t work to simply send the actors in circles as they make duplicative gestures.

The fight scenes were augmented by Beaton’s light shows, though they must be carefully coordinated to enhance without obscuring – a couple of poorly-timed light effects left the principals in the dark. And the special effects were not very special: once the Nazgul lost their horses we never saw them again (though the shriek was very well done). The Balrog … meh. And worst of all was at Mount Doom; we saw no trace of the Ring, and the explosion was decidedly anticlimactic.

The most important omission was the emotion. I mentioned the absence of grief at Gandalf’s fall, but the more important exclusions were in defining the characters and their interpersonal relationships. Sam’s love and devotion to Frodo was barely hinted at, though this relationship is of paramount importance from the beginning, in his insistence on accompanying his Master, to the end, where he is essential to Frodo’s ability to complete his Quest. Instead, it’s simply puzzling when Sam volunteers to carry the Ring. Nor do we see Frodo’s gradually falling under the Ring’s enchantment, so the climactic scene where he declares he will keep It became a ‘where’d that come from?’ moment. Similarly, we have no clue that Boromir is coming under the Ring’s spell until suddenly, at an inappropriately hectic moment, he makes a grab for it.

I could go on and on – but don’t panic, I won’t. Suffice to say that THE LORD OF THE RINGS - a Musical Tale has hobbits and elves, wizards and dwarves in the cast, but the story isn’t about them. The characters and their stories get lost, becoming merely a placeholder between songs, many of them with minimal relevance to the action (and variable quality).

In summary: I simply can’t evaluate THE LORD OF THE RINGS - a Musical Tale objectively. I’m not merely familiar with Tolkien’s work, I’ve spent countless hours immersed in it. I’m not simply knowledgeable about Middle Earth, I’ve lived there. And in this venue, I won’t elaborate on just how intimately acquainted I’ve been with the characters, as well as with the actors whom Peter Jackson selected to portray them. My companion, unfamiliar with the Trilogy, was enraptured by most of THE LORD OF THE RINGS - a Musical Tale.  For myself, I was too knowledgeable about (and I daresay too emotionally invested in) Tolkien’s stories to simply enjoy the show.

So, I’m telling you that, on the heavily-weighted scale of my judgment, THE LORD OF THE RINGS - a Musical Tale failed to tip the balance. However, I still RECOMMEND the program. So long as you’re not a total Tolkienophile, obsessed with the Canon and unable to tolerate even minor infringements, you will enjoy THE LORD OF THE RINGS - a Musical Tale. 

Recommended!

* The haka is a ritual dance that Maori warriors perform when commencing a fight. The New Zealand Rugby team, theAllBlacks, performs a haka on the field before each match.

Lauren Yee’s Cambodian Rock Band begins and ends with music, not what Americans think of when they think of Cambodia, as the glib narrator points out, shifting from slides of musicians whose songs are nearly lost to history to more familiar images of the genocide that resulted in their loss. Yee’s play, now in its Chicago premier at Victory Gardens, is a celebration of the lives that were lost under the brutal Khmer Rouge regime, first to violence (nearly two million people were killed within four years), then to guilt, time and a desire to forget. Underscored and interspersed by classic Khmer pop songs, 60’s and 70’s Cambodian surfer punk, and original songs by Dengue Fever that pay tribute to their Cambodian roots, Cambodian Rock Band is about a band, a genocide and a Cambodian father and his American daughter trying to connect. There is a lot going on, not all of it works, and it can get messy at times, but ultimately, Cambodian Rock Band is a fast-paced, entertaining, timely and moving call to art and action with a rocking score.

Welcome to Cambodia! It’s 1974 and Cambodian band Cyclos is rocking out. Until they are ushered off the stage by an as-yet unnamed emcee who segues from the Cambodian musical scene into the atrocities that most Americans think of when we think of Cambodia in the 1970’s. Enter Chum, who settled in America in in the late 1970’s and who is back in Phnom Penh to pay a surprise visit to his 26-year-old daughter, Neary, who is helping prepare the case against a Khmer Rouge war criminal, Comrade Duch, the warden of the S21, a notorious prison that only seven inmates survived. Chum not only seems unimpressed by his daughter’s efforts (she could have gone to Cornell Law School), but also questions their exigency. In fact, Chum seems more taken aback by his daughter’s pursuit of the case than by the fact that her towel-clad boyfriend appears in the hotel room that she calls home (though the fact that his heritage is Thai is problematic). Chum, with his embarrassing dad jokes and inadvertent double-entendres tries to steer Neary to enjoying the pleasures of Phnom Penh, its fish spa and karaoke. Neary is focused on the upcoming press conference about the case against Duch. As Neary plumbs the depths of the case, searching out survivors of S21, Duch introduces himself, and Neary slowly gets to know her father and his past. 

Marti Lyons has assembled a hard-rocking ensemble, which handles both the classic pop and surfer punk with assurance. She smoothly directs the transitions between times and places, utilizing a spare set comprised of neon, road cases, a few wheeled set pieces and a few pieces of furniture by Yu Shibagaki, visually reinforcing both the ephemerality of the 1970’s music scene and the glowing modern city that arose from the remains of the Khmer Rouge reign. Lighting designer Keith Parham and sound designer Mikhail Fiksel deftly shift the scene between the bootleg recording session, cramped hotel room, upscale hotel lounge, and claustrophobic prison cell. Izumi Inaba offers period-perfect costumes for the band and the Khmer Rouge guards, crushed velvet for our emcee and conservative suits for the employees of the Center for Transitional Justice. Times and places fade into each other, both the physical space and the musical and aural landscape, as it becomes clear that the present is inextricably bound to the past. Lyons directs with an unsentimental, clear-eyed view, not editorializing, throwing into relief the overwhelming, heart-wrenching choices faced by the characters.

The cast is uniformly excellent, delivering both moving, grounded performances and propulsive music. Leading the ensemble is Greg Watanabe as Chum, in a time-traveling portrayal that shows him going from eager, embarrassing and judgmental dad to the youthful version of character, whose coming of age was interrupted by the Khmer Rouge, and finally the father who is forced to reconcile the two. Watanabe brings the right mix of energy, humor and gravitas to the role. The catalyst for the story is Neary, whose fight for justice in Cambodia also serves to teach her about her heritage, played with humor and exasperation by Aja Wiltshire, who also plays the lead singer of Cyclos, Sothea, with brash vibrance. As her co-worker and fellow-Westerner, Ted, Matthew C. Lee provides charm and clueless bonhomie. However, it is as the self-confident, preening lead guitarist Leng, whose survival instincts lead him into the darkness of the new regime, that Lee delivers a note-perfect portrait of hopeful youth. Peter Sipla and Eileen Doan round out the band, as drummer Rom and keyboardist Pou—both are remarkable musicians and actors who capture the different responses to the encroaching threat of the Khmer Rouge, as well as filling other roles in the narrative. As the Comrade Duch, Rammel Chan is disconcertingly ingratiating, deploying brassy, reptilian charm alternating with quiet reflection that calls into question what we know we should feel. Yee’s play requires whiplash-inducing tonal shifts, and the cast navigates the transitions between past and present effectively, bringing to life the people and music of Cambodia, and effectively showing what was lost with each well-documented death in the genocide.

Cambodian Rock Band is an occasionally uneasy hybrid between rock concert, sit-com and documentary record of the Cambodian genocide under Pol Pot, but somehow the format ends up being the right mix. Though laced with humor, maybe because it is laced with humor, the play is a vivid tribute to the art and individuals who were lost in the years when the Khmer Rouge were in power. The music by band Dengue Fever revives the sounds of Cambodia in the 1970’s—both the traditional pop songs and the more Western rock sounds, that nevertheless were delivered with a Khmer accent. In telling one story and offering a glimpse into the atrocities committed by one man, Lauren Yee powerfully reminds us that those rows of black and white photos and the piles of skulls that are often Americans’ first impressions of Cambodia are just the end of many lives and stories. The energetic, talented cast unsentimentally and unsparingly bring to life the rock band of the title. An entertaining tribute to human resilience, it also does not shrink from showing the choices that allow evil to flourish. 

Cambodian Rock Band runs through May 5 at Victory Gardens Theatre, 2433 N. Lincoln Avenue. Performances are Tuesday – Friday at 7:30 pm, Saturday at 3 pm and 7:30 pm, and Sunday at 3 pm. Tickets are $32-$65. For tickets and information, visit www.victorygardens.org, or call or email the Victory Gardens Box Office at 773-871-3000 or This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it..