Displaying items by tag: Off Nights

If all the world’s a stage and we are all merely players, then we must be prepared when we are thrust into the spotlight. Not everyone will be ready. Some of us might freeze or forget our lines or simply wave the spotlight on, forgoing the opportunity to perform, content with playing in the shadows or the wings. Others, however, crave the attention and demand to be center stage, presumably because they have something to say. Whether or not you signed up to be in the play or part of the production, it’s essential to be prepared, to know what you would say or do when given a stage. This past weekend, I witnessed just such an opportunity during a performance of Off-Nights at the Sometimes Café. The stage was set, the players cast, and an attentive audience seated. The trouble was, when the spotlight was on, nothing was said.

Off-Nights at the Sometimes Café is billed as a campy parody of a noir mystery, following a cafe pianist in lieu of a detective. As the pianist/narrator plays his way through the show, he guides the audience through the tangled web of attraction, seduction, and general silliness that occurs when a bunch of attractive queer people end up in the same place.

On its surface, Dave Walther’s Off-Nights at the Sometimes Café aims to be a delightful, poignantly unserious celebration of queer joy and desire, and a heartwarming portrayal of how to find a chosen family— warts and all. But that message, along with the representation it aims to spotlight, is completely lost in a story lacking in formula, pace, or purpose. There is no particular plot with a beginning, middle, and an end. There’s no catalytic event or climax. It’s more of a drawn-out setting of a café scene, focusing on the introduction of six characters that takes over one hour of the play’s seventy-five-minute run time to fully explain. There is no protagonist – or spoken scenes for that matter -- save for the curmudgeonly monotonous narrator who tells the story in the same sad minor keys the musical numbers are played in. The only time the characters speak is through song. While the players have exceptional voices, the choice of opera as a medium is an interesting one. The operatic numbers all focus on love (both absent and unrequited), but they don’t particularly move the story forward or really accentuate or explain the characters’ motivations or sentiments. Save for a few witty one-liners and repetitive drag numbers, there isn’t much depth or substance to this story, so it begs the question: Why was this put on?

Off-Nights at the Sometimes Café is simply doing too much for a message of love, acceptance, and community to shine through. At least that is what I took away from the production. It’s neither an homage to film noir nor a parody. It’s lacking in elements such as a femme fatale, lover’s quarrels, a whodunnit with high-contrast lighting, nonsensical voice narration, hyperbolic metaphors, or, said succinctly, a storyline, something nearly every film noir/parody possesses. The same goes for the opera homage and lack thereof. Key operatic elements are also lacking, such as libretto (text/story), aria (emotional solo), a recitative (speech-like narrative singing), and most importantly, the theatre and spectacle that opera is known for. None of that is found in this play. To be fair, perhaps that was the whole point, and it simply missed me as quickly as the 70-degree day in Chicago. If you squinted, you could see where Off-Nights was trying to go. The problem was in the execution and pace of the story. It was simply doing too much and not enough at the same time. Director Clare DiVizio’s introduction to the play provided more grounding and heart than the entirety of the run of the show, the reminder to all that queer and trans rights matter, now more than ever in today’s volatile and violent world. Off-Nights lingers so heavily in the descriptions of characters and their identification that we miss the ‘why?’ Why are we here? Why should we care about these characters? What do you want the audience to take away from this production, outside of a love story that references the last great love was when dinosaurs were drinking beers? Off-Nights, unfortunately, misses their mark.

When given a spotlight, one must be ready and prepared to step into it with something to say. No matter the medium chosen to convey one’s story, the story still needs to be easy to follow. It should have heart and depth even if it’s told through parody and satire. If the message you wish to impart to your audience is lost in translation, or simply doesn’t exist, was it ready for its moment on the stage? Did the story linger in the shadows too long, or was it simply not ready for the spotlight? With some rewriting, staging choices, and script alignment to any of the formulas the play aims at parodying, Off-Nights at the Sometimes Café could become the queer extravaganza it bills itself as. Until then, the audience is waiting for something great to take the stage and have its moment in the spotlight.

Check out the other 2026 season of events and shows at Bramble Arts Loft and learn more about The Thompson Street Opera Co. and their mission to bring inclusivity to the operatic art form.