Displaying items by tag: Goodman Theatre

The dynamic clashes of three couples living parallel lives fuels Christina Anderson’s delightful new play, How to Catch Creation. With dialog that is fresh, arresting, and completely natural, Anderson captures and holds our attention throughout the 90-minute show.  We quickly become invested in the characters, want to know how things will turn out for them.

Particularly strong were the portrayals of Griffin (Keith Randolph Smith is spectacular), and his bosom buddy and best female friend Tami (Karen Aldridge in an electric performance).

Griffin is a middle-aged man recently released from prison after being wrongfully convicted, trying to reclaim his life – with a settlement to get him started. Tami is an academic administrator in the fine arts department, whose life as an artist is now in abeyance – and likewise for her love life, which trends toward women.

Tami and Griffin have that most special intimacy, one that allows for unsparing honesty, and in the best of all possible worlds could be the basis for a rock-solid marriage. But nothing suggests they are headed in that direction. But your antenna will rise as the dialog between these two, sparklingly well written, suggests a special energy – and the chemistry between these two accomplished actors is unrelentingly magnetic.

In the course of the action, Tami pairs up with Riley (Maya Vinice Prentiss) a computer technician and electronic musician. Complicating things is the fact that Riley is involved with Stokes (Bernard Gilbert). Without spoiling the plot and reveals, we discover a thread of connections through two generations, and through coincidences and fate, paths cross and the complicated fabric of the drama is woven.

The presentation of the play is fast-paced and technically wonderful – Anderson’s script sets great production challenges, as it mimics the fast-paced, quick-cut style of a film – with vignettes, short scenes, and jumps back in time. To accomplish this, director Nigel Smith seamlessly integrated scenery and staging (Todd Rosenthal) lighting (Allen Lee Hughes) and sound (Joanna Lynne Staub, with composition by Justin Ellington).

In How to Catch Creation, Anderson reminds us that the more things change, the more they stay the same. The title tips us off to the parallels within these couples, and the pursuit each holds in common of creation – in painting, writing, procreating – and the quest for love. As if to underscore it all, Anderson gives us several pairs of scenes that run concurrently, with identical dialog spoken sometimes simultaneously, sometimes sequentially, by couples in different times and of different ages. The effect is marvelous.   

One couple is shown living in the 1960s and 1970s, Ayanna Bria Bakari (Natalie), Jasmine Bracey (G.K. Marche) and Anderson is very specific about the timing of scenes: one takes place a few days after the specific reference to the September 15, 1963 bombing of the 16th Street Baptist Church in Birmingham, Alabama; the scene references the killing of four little girls in the church. Another takes place years later, with a very specific presentation of an ad at a bus stop for an Apple computer (a perfect replication of the real thing), setting it in the late 1970s, when Apple first began advertising.

The other two couples inhabit 2014, but also with a specificity. “It’s 2014,” says Riley. “If you have the money, you can have can have a kid.” Perhaps by rooting the action in concrete details, Anderson wants to make it more credible. But she has accomplished that already, with the dialog in this wonderfully written work. Highly recommended. How to Catch Creation runs through February 24 at Goodman Theatre.  

Brendan Coyle is no Mr. Bates when it comes to his latest stage endeavor. Instead, the Olivier Award-winning actor, best known for his role on Downton Abbey as the likeable, mild-mannered, ever so loyal valet to Lord Crawley – Mr. Bates, takes on a persona far removed from what most of us are accustomed to seeing him portray. In Goodman Theatre’s ‘St.Nicholas' Coyle plays an resentful, cynical theatre critic with an unbelievable story to tell. Coyle's performance commands audience attention from beginning to end without a moment otherwise.

The first couple minutes of the monologue play are already filled with intensity. Coyle doesn’t even have to utter a single word as he tosses handfuls of rice in various areas of his disheveled apartment – chairs overturned, windows plastered in old newspaper. It looks like the place was ransacked. After penetratingly staring out to the crowd, he finally takes a seat and begins to tell his story. Upon revealing that he is a theatre critic (which alone in itself conjures a hearty, collective laugh in the way he says it), he admits he has been harsh in his reviews due to jealousy. He is a powerful critic. His reviews can make or break a production. The first act offers a great amount of depth into his character in a gripping monologue that only playwright Conor McPherson could pen. The description of his life as a critic laid out so well and superbly delivered, we get a perfectly painted picture. We feel his frustration, his pain and his triumphs. We feel for the character. In true McPherson style, who has given us such powerful productions as “the Seafarer’ and ‘Dublin Carol’, the play is filled with dark humor, plenty of F-bombs, drinking and, of course, deep soul searching.

“When I was a boy, I was afraid of the dark… What was there. And maybe one of the things I thought was there was vampires,” our critic says in the first act. It’s not the only mention of vampires in the play’s first half. Though riding along with perfectly timed moments of humor, “St. Nicholas” becomes more of a psychological thriller as it progresses. The Dublin theater critic tells us how he gave up his everyday life for a beautiful actress, an actress whose spellbinding grace, beauty and charm won him over while reviewing a play he planned to trash. As he describes the actress, it is obvious there is no turning back in his mind. His obsession, he reveals, leads him to strike a deal with a community of modern-day vampires and that’s when we are taken on a journey like none other, as we hang on his every word.

The second act takes place in a candlelit setting – almost presenting an atmosphere like that of a ghost story told around a campfire as we are given the devilish details of his interactions with the band of vampires. Candles burn on the window sills, his desk, the floor. There is no stage lighting directed to Coyle’s face. Instead, the glow of small flames flicker about, allowing just the perfect amount of lighting to most effectively create just the right ambiance as he tells his dark tale. Peter McKintosh does a masterful job with set design and Matt Daw with lighting while Simon Evans' direction is flawless.

Towards the end of his magnificent story Coyle's character then wonders if it was real or just a dream. “After all, what is a dream and what is real?” he then asks while offering several scenarios of which can so be defined as a "dream". Perhaps, as he suggests, our dream moments are real and what we perceive as our awake moments are in fact dreams. The play, after all, is inspired by McPherson’s own dream - where he was bitten by a vampire and given two pain killers.

Emmy Award nominated Brendan Coyle is outstanding. He is a true stage presence and has the ability to reach out to his audience in the most effective of ways – a true master of the stage.

I wholeheartedly recommend ‘St. Nicholas’ at Goodman Theatre as Coyle’s performance is not to be missed – enthralling, powerful and perfectly executed humor – a theatrical delight. Catch this limited engagement that comes direct from London's internationally renowned Donmar Warehouse.

‘St. Nicholas’ is being performed in Goodman’s cozy 350-seat Owen Theatre through January 27th. For tickets and/or more show information, visit www.goodmantheatre.org.

What kind of holiday season would it be without ‘The Santaland Diaries’? Old Chicagoans will remember the iconic poster art for the Theatre Building’s production that ran for years at Theatre Wit. This year the gang at Theatre Wit and their usual elf Crumpit played by Mitchell Fain opted not to remount Joe Montello’s adaptation of the David Sedaris essay. Luckily Goodman is filling their Owen space with a new production running alongside ‘A Christmas Carol’.

‘The Santaland Diaries’ has become an NPR holiday classic. Sedaris first read his comedic essay about his short-lived career as a Macy’s elf on NPR in the early 1990s. It was a huge hit and put him on the map. Joe Montello wrote a stage adaptation that has been seen all over the world. Oddly enough Sedaris isn’t a fan.

This new production directed by Steve Scott stars Matt Crowle as a young David Sedaris. For one solid hour we get the inner ravings of a seasonal elf presented in a one-man show rant. Crowle hits all the jokes but there seems to be a raw edge missing from his performance.

Sedaris is known for his caustic wit. In this piece we see him tear Christmas and the whole season apart in a Grinchy monologue. This is a play for anyone who truly loathes the holidays. Though it’s a Christmas play, this is an r-rated play not intended for the whole family. Even with that disclaimer, there are surely those who will balk at some of the more glaringly un-PC moments. And for good reason. Some of the evenings more uncomfortable moments came when jokes lacking a 2018 sensitivity failed to land.

That said, there are plenty of moments that do land. As adults, we’ve all seen the ugly side of Christmas and we’ve all had years where we wonder why we go through with it at all. Sedaris takes those dark moments and spins them into relatable humor. As one theater company passes the baton to another, ‘The Santaland Diaries’ endears as a modern classic for the cynical during this annoyingly cheerful time of year.

Through December 30th at Goodman Theatre. 170 N Dearborn Street. 312-443-3800

Having seen (and adored) Goodman Theatre’s A Christmas Carol 17 years ago, I was thrilled to experience this holiday classic once again this year. Though having undergone many changes over the years, Goodman’s gorgeous production of Charles Dickens’ timeless Christmas tale has kept the most important bit: the message of kindness and redemption. Now in its 41st year, under Artistic Associate Henry Wishcamper’s direction for the sixth year, it’s still a reassuringly uplifting Christmas story.

As the story goes, one Christmas Eve Ebenezer Scrooge, a banker, is visited by four ghosts: The Ghost of his late business partner Jacob Marley (Kareem Bandealy) who died on Christmas Eve seven years ago, The Ghost of Christmas Past (played by Molly Brennan), The Ghost of Christmas Present (by Jasmine Bracey), and The Ghost of Christmas Future (Brean Arzell), in succession. Larry Yando returns for his 11th season as Scrooge, and he’s wonderfully expressive in his portrayal of a stingy bitter old man undergoing character transformations as the Ghost of Christmas Past unrolls Scrooge’s life events, helping him recall himself as a frightened young boy at a boarding school all the way through his failed marriage. Yando’s Scrooge is vaguely aware of how terribly unkind he’s being to everyone around him but seems to see no reasons to change. But that’s because playful Molly Brennan’s Ghost of Christmas Past, dressed in pink and black and wearing pigtails, floating above the stage like a circus acrobat, is a mostly friendly ghost. It is not until Scrooge is presented with grim visions of his future by the cloaked Ghost of the Future that he begs for a second chance.

Children actors are especially wonderful in this production; their singing and dancing, along with live band under the Music Director Malcolm Ruhl, add plenty of charm to the play. The impressive stage design with everything from luxurious bed draped in soft fabrics, props silently appearing from under the stage, and frequent effortless movement of scenes which somehow doesn’t require a pause or light dimming - it’s like a well-oiled Swiss clock. That mastery combined with wonderful acting and beautiful singing make up for a high-quality entertainment. But as I’m watching the show, I can’t help but think of how I could try to be better, nicer and a more generous person. It is indeed the moral of the story that resonates with us all and brings audiences back every year: a reminder that it’s never too late to be better. Not just on Christmas, of course, but that’s a good start.

For more information on showtimes and tickets, visit www.goodmantheatre.org.

What makes a life extraordinary? Is it the chance meetings with celebrities, surviving world war or is it all the love that surrounds us? ‘Lady in Denmark’ by Dael Orlandersmith makes its world premiere at Goodman Theatre under the direction of Victory Gardens’ Artistic Director, Chay Yew.

Orlandersmith is known for her non-traditional approach to theatre but ‘Lady in Denmark’ feels a little more familiar in style and content. Orlandersmith’s work was last seen at the Goodman in the spring when she starred in her one-woman play ‘Until the Flood.’ Her 2007 work ‘Yellowman’ was shortlisted for the Pulitzer. Orlandersmith tends to write single-actor pieces in which storytelling turns into character and dialogue. While the idea of one-woman-play might have some running for the exits, trust that ‘Lady in Denmark’ will hold your attention, and without the 2-drink minimum.

‘Lady in Denmark’ is basically a 90-minute monologue from the point of view of Helene (Linda Gehringer). She’s nearing 80 and cleaning up the birthday party she’d just thrown for her late husband who’d died shortly before. While turning over sides of Billie Holiday records, Helene relates the story of her life. Helene is a fictional character who lived through the privation of the German occupation of Denmark in WWII. The music of Billie Holiday has been the through-line of her life.

Between Orlandersmith’s script and Gehringer’s performance, this play touches on so many things. Linda Gehringer tells the stories of Helene’s life with such magnitude that you nearly feel like you lived the memories yourself. An impressive Danish accent contributes to a real sense of authenticity in this play. You quickly forget that this character is indeed fiction. Gehringer’s incredibly human performance reaches a peak by the end when she tells us about her husband’s illness and death. Orlandersmith includes some nuggets of wisdom on the idea of grief. While we never meet Helene’s husband, we cry for her loss just the same.

Helene tells us how she survived the occupation, managed to host a dinner for Billie Holiday in her home in Denmark but also married the love of her life and created an entire life for herself in America. Some may only think of the time they had a celebrity in their home when they take stock of a life, but Orlandersmith shows us a woman who appreciated every ounce of love in her life. There’s a lot of humor in this play but it’s well balanced with bittersweet ruminations on loss and grief. And of course, a killer soundtrack.

Through November 18th at Goodman Theatre. 170 N Dearborn. 312-443-3811

Stacy Keach storms the stage for one of the best performances ever, as he takes on the role of author Earnest Hemingway in Pamplona at Goodman Theatre.

This world premier at Goodman was originally planned for Spring 2017, but Keach fell ill opening night and the full run was suspended until now. Clearly the delay has only enhanced his delivery, as Keach commands our non-stop attention in this one-act by Jim McGrath.

Set in 1959, we meet Hemingway holed up in a hotel (it would be the Hotel Quintana) in Pamplona, Spain – the site of the famous running of the bulls – faced with writers block as he struggles to finish a 90,000-word piece on bull fighting for Life magazine. Anyone who has been challenged in writing will recognize how playwright Jim McGrath captures those patterns of distraction and stimulation used to release the story.

Hemingway was an accomplished journalist who very well knew how to pound out the words on deadline. But in the lonelier pursuit of making art, it’s a different matter.

Hemingway indeed struggled to complete his first creative works and determined to let the pressure build until the real work came - ultimately yielding a new style if fiction writing, and a model for stylish manliness that American males widely adopted down to his haircut and sweaters.

In Pamplona, Hemingway tries to boost himself by reading aloud his letter thanking the Nobel Prize Committee for the 1954 award he received following publication of The Old Man and the Sea. He plays loud swing and jazz on the radio and phonograph. His back pain distracts him, and he inventories his bottles of prescription drugs, finding the one for pain. He considers taking a drink but stays away, knowing that will lead him astray – he has asked hotel staff not to bring him liquor.

Though Keach works alone on the stage, there are several characters introduced via his phone and sounding through the walls of his room – further distractions from his work. His lawyer calls with the news of taxes due. The hotel desk clerk calls frequently, despite orders that Hemingway not be disturbed, as a guest in the next room repeatedly complains of noise. On one level, the plot of the play revolves around that unseen and unnamed guest. We later learn he had specifically requested the room next to Hemingway. Who is this unseen force messing with Hemingway’s mind?

By injecting this abstraction into the play, McGrath transcends the level of a purely biopic storyline, just as Hemingway did with in his own works: beyond the literal surface of stories about an old fisherman, or a young matador, the characters are encountering their mortality and facing down death.

Keach and McGrath worked together for years on the development of this play, and it seems to embrace the continued scholarship into the forces that shaped and wound Hemingway’s outlook. So that audiences will have enough detail to follow, one-person plays by necessity have the performer delivering all their own background exposition – a requirement that may not always be in keeping with the character.

In this case, McGrath has balanced that demand well, and Keach captures the big blustery and frankly theatrical quality of Hemingway, who was by most accounts this blustery, larger than life figure we see on the stage. Hemingway's monologs of self-deprecation over his failed marriages and his neglect to aid his own ailing father, somehow seem natural, Keach convincingly makes Hemingway sound like he is "thinking aloud." (Keach also won a Golden Globe for playing the role of Hemingway in a 1988 TV mini-series.) 

Directed nimbly by Robert Falls, with sets by Kevin Depinet, Pamplona is a chance to see an actor truly in his element and delivering an enthralling performance. It runs through August 19 at the Goodman Theatre, and may be the very best show on stage in Chicago.

It’s a tough time to be a straight white male. Playwright Ellen Fairey returns to Chicago with a new play called ‘Support Group for Men’ now running at Goodman Theatre. Fairey’s work was last seen in Chicago when the now defunct Profiles Theatre produced her smash hit ‘Graceland’ in the mid-00s. Directed by one of the city’s foremost directors, Kimberly Senior, this of-the-moment play is certain to hit home for locals.

‘Support Group for Men’ isn’t exactly a winning title, but it does fit the bill. In it, four men of various ages and ethnicities meet weekly to discuss personal problems they’re having. Fairey took the idea from a real-life friend of hers who told her about a support group he went to for lonely men. Without that piece of info from the playbill, this scenario would seem somewhat unplausable. That said, how sad that there are so many lonely people out there that don’t seek company?

Fairey sets her four characters in Wrigleyville. There’s tough guy Roger (Keith Kupferer), new agey Brian (Ryan Kitley), sensitive Delano (Anthony Irons) and token millennial Kevin (Tommy Rivera-Vega), but it’s the entrance of Alex (Jeff Kurysz) in drag that changes the course of the evening. While most of the dialogue is topical and relevant, the jammed-in Chicago references ring very false. Suburbanites may appreciate the cultural shout-outs but really, how many locals actually go to Weiner Circle?

This is not to say the play is bad. Fairey’s characters discuss the things in everyday pop culture that are so fluid for the young, but so confusing for the middle-aged. Her points about middle-aged men feeling winnowed out are devastating. It almost answers the question of “why do people commit mass shootings?”

Roger is established as the main character and his monologue about the realization of middle age and the feeling of being invisible is heartbreaking. Keith Kupferer is perfectly cast for this role. When the Chicago stage needs an everyman, Kupferer is the guy for the job. There’s a toughness to his look, but a wealth of sensitivity just below the surface.

This is a comedy and though it does try to reach for depth, it often comes up empty. The problem here is that Fairey isn’t saying anything that hasn’t already been said better by other writers. Though, it is important for mainstream, suburban audiences to see themselves in a play. If they can’t relate, then how can a play make them see the world differently? Fairey’s play is a light-hearted referendum on male privilege and it’s easier to swallow a little criticism with some comedy. Is this a play everyone in America needs to see? No, but it’s a play that has themes everyone in American should be discussing.

Through July 29 at Goodman Theatre. 170 N Dearborn. 312-443-3811

“I don’t speak for people, I speak to people.” playwright Dael Orlandersmith says in conversation about her new play ‘Until the Flood.’ Orlandersmith’s one-woman show is a docudrama about the ordinary citizens in and around Furguson, Missouri at the time of Michael Brown’s death. ‘Until the Flood’ was shortlisted for the 2018 Pulitzer in addition to its off-Broadway run.

‘Until the Flood’ is a lot like Anna Deveare Smith’s ‘Twilight’ in that it tells a story through monologue's of those involved. Instead of actors playing the people Orlandersmith interviewed, she does them herself. Though the set is sparse, her performance is transformative. With little segue, she moves through a dozen or so monologue's of people from all walks of life. In her play, no one is spared. She shows the depths of unadulterated racism as well as the subtle ways in which people may not even be aware is racism. She never presents a caricature of a type of person, but rather the human quality that has made this person who they are. Orlandersmith’s talent as a performer is that she never loses you. Through gesture and movement, she paints an entire portrait. You know these people.

‘Until the Flood’ concerns itself with the immediate aftermath of the Michael Brown police shooting, but it seems like an allegory for the place we’ve arrived as a country. It’s hard to believe that four years after the riots in Ferguson, there’s still so little accountability in law enforcement. It’s also hard to believe how politicized race relations have become in America since 2014. This play shows us why Trump won, and also hopefully why Trump (and his brand of government) will be tossed out. Even at the darkest moment of this play, there’s still a few moments when Orlandersmith makes you connect with a character. That’s empathy.

This is a brief play. Clocking in at an hour and fifteen minutes, ‘Until the Flood’ makes its point. It’s the kind of play that has so many specific character moments that it would be impossible not to unpack on the way home. That’s exactly what theater should be doing, creating a dialogue about things that are hard to talk about. It’s when we have those discussions that we learn empathy.

"In real life, you're exploited by the moneyed class and then you die." says Petra in Robert Falls' new production of 'An Enemy of the People' at Goodman Theatre. His adaptation of Ibsen's 1882 play, spends two and a half hours exploring the theme of freedom.

"An Enemy of the People" is set in an ambiguous time and place but the highly conceptualized world in which this production exists is familiar. In it, idealistic small-town Doctor Stockmann (Philip Earl Johnson) discovers the water supply is poisoned. Hoping to save the town, he's politically thwarted by his brother the mayor (Scott Jaeck).

Robert Falls adapted the script from a translation by Eleanor Marx-Aveling and it's got some teeth. As Arthur Miller adapted Ibsen's play in 1950 to fit the McCarthy era, Falls aims his at Trumpism. Despite some occasional lapses in subtlety, this version chugs along at an urgent pace. Some liberties are taken with Ibsen's script but, given the current political climate, the topical dialogue fuels the thrilling intensity. Even 130 years later, this play is still a warning.

The square-off between Philip Earl Johnson and Scott Jaeck for the town's soul is all too relevant. Johnson physically exhausts himself trying to scream the truth while a calm and dignified Jaeck lulls the townspeople into submission. They're both so convincing you're almost able to see both sides, which is precisely the danger. Many of the most provocative lines come from Petra played by Rebecca Hurd. Her performance is sincere and brings more depth to the character than just what's in the dialogue.

It's an event when Robert Falls produces a classic at Goodman. 'Enemy of the People' lives up to the hype. As he's done with Chekhov, Falls has a vision for these plays that is far from the faithful productions of yore. It's essential for directors to reinterpret these classics for new eras. It's how a younger generation will connect with Ibsen. This version is well designed and brightly colored. Almost too cheerful for the subject matter. The costumes will leave you unsure of the time period, but that's the point. Whatever the era, the costumes are chic and the sets are memorable. This isn't your average period piece melodrama.

This production is exciting from beginning to end. There's not a moment of dead air. The dialogue is fresh and mirrors the absurd hypocrisy of our times. There's a lot of lightness in this play, and it's not until afterward that the darkness of its themes settle in. That might be one of it's strongest assets, it's so engaging you forget how bleak the conclusion is. If you don't leave this play angry, there's probably something wrong with you.

Through April 15th at Goodman Theatre 170 North Dearborn. 312-443-5151

Before I set foot in the Goodman’s Owen Theatre to see the Chicago premier of Sarah DeLappe’s acclaimed play The Wolves, I tried not to read or hear or learn too much about it. I knew it had been a finalist for a Pulitzer, and won other awards. I knew it was about a girls’ high school soccer team. And that was about it.

The first tidbit informed my own expectations – this ought to be good, I figured. And the second informed who I’d bring along – my own 14-year-old soccer-playing daughter. I was excited that the subject matter might excite her, sure, but was more intent on using her as a litmus test for not just the play’s quality, but its authenticity. And boy, did we both find that it delivered on both counts.

While the play’s 20-something playwright and cast might seem like whippersnappers to an old dude like me, their ilk are positively elderly to a teen. After the play, my daughter admitted she’d been worried that the presentation would be the usual – what old people think young life is like these days. But The Wolves portrayed young life – the young life of today, of yesterday, of time eternal – in a way both dad and daughter found realistic. That is, the play portrayed life realistically.

Sarah DeLappe’s script sets up this portrayal like a champ. After the play, I read that DeLappe was influenced by old war movies – the kind where a gang of guys gain personal revelations in the face of greater situations – and I can see that. I also sensed the influence of 12 Angry Men or Tarantino’s Reservoir Dogs – art that finds greater truths by plopping a disparate troupe of characters into a script. But instead of machine guns and military rations, instead of a jury room or a bank heist, the troupe on the Goodman’s stage was armed with shin guards and phones and backpacks and headbands. But the idea was the same – flesh out a story by fleshing out the people telling it. DeLappe tells her story through her girls’ banter as they stretch and warmup before a series of soccer games. Her gift for said banter is something else – making it sound like how not just girls talk, but how people talk, as the characters flit from discussions of world events to feminine products, from hopes and dreams for the future to the sex and sexuality that seems so pressing in their present. Talk goes from Pol Pot to periods, from weirdoes who live in “yogurts” to punk rock chicks who lick coffeehouse microphones. The stuff real people talk about. And how real people talk about that stuff.

And, more than any play I can remember, director Vanessa Stalling’s production of a team shows it takes a team to pull it off. First off, the cast is great. Those grown-up ladies onstage could totally, like, pass as a gaggle of teen girls. And that’s not to belittle them or the material they’re working with. Most likely because I’m a nerd, myself, I connected with Sarah Price’s neurotic know-it-all, #11 (yes, the characters are only identified by jersey number, further enforcing the team concept, and further highlighting how both script and cast breathe life into these nameless roles). As the team captain, #25, Isa Arciniegas is – to continue the earlier war motif – Pattonesque in a Napoleanic package. Cydney Moody’s #8 is the moody one. Angela Alise’s #00 is the lonely goalkeeper. Erin O’Shea is the red-headed, homeschooled, yogurt-livin’ outsider (think Lindsay Lohan in Mean Girls, except with mad ball-handling skills). And the heart and soul of the team are Natalie Joyce and Aurora Real de Asua. Joyce’s #7 has the mouth of a sailor but the problems and insecurities of a girl, while #14 is the ego to 7’s adolescent id. The teammates kick around conversations as feverishly and randomly as they do their soccer balls, again making it sound not just like how high school girls talk, but how people interact.

The teamwork on display does not stop with the script and its interpreters, however. Collette Pollard’s set gave this soccer dad, who’s spent too much time hanging out at fields both outdoors and under domes, flashbacks. Lighting by Keith Parham is spot on, as are the musical choices by sound designer Mikhail Fiksel, both providing energy and intensity that match the actors’.

And so, this whole team comes together to not just tell a story of young girls, but of people. What starts as dissonant and diverse digressions between types and tropes turns into a realistic back-and-forth you’d hear not just on the field or in the mall or in a classroom, but at work, on the train, in the checkout line, on the street. Given great material to work with, the cast and crew of the Goodman Theatre’s production of Sarah DeLappe’s The Wolves give us something that’s funny, sad, uncomfortable, cute, ugly, and beautiful – that is, art that pulls off the rare feat of feeling like real life. And, like, my teen daughter seconds that!

*Extended through March 18th