Displaying items by tag: Bill Esler

Invisible, a new play by Mary Bonnett, tells a provocative story about a little known slice of history – the emergence of the women’s arm of the Ku Klux Klan – the WKKK. Bonnett is also artistic director of Her Story Theater, and has produced eight such works with powerful social messages.

Directed by Cecelie Keenan, Invisible (the KKK was known as the "Invisible Nation") is set in 1920 in Mound, Mississippi (a site of a native burial grounds). It centers on a trio of ladies - Doris, Lucinda, and Mabel - who are marketing Women’s KKK memberships through the social media of the day – door to door solicitation, marches, and nasty gossip about those who won’t join.

The poisonous dynamics are reminiscent of the ominous thumb of group-think social pressure seen in The Crucible, or Tracy Letts' The Minutes, but with a Southern drawl. Starting from a baseline of racism against African-Americans, the WKKK ladies of the 1920s welcomed only Protestant Northern Europeans and Anglo Saxons to their group.

Those who were unreceptive were shunned socially. Pro-scripted categories of white people – Catholics, Jews, immigrants – weren’t even approached, and along with black people, were targets of venomous attacks by the women’s group.

Interested in reducing marital violence and advancing education, these women were liberated on some levels. They had won the vote in 1920, and voiced ambition for loosening male dominion over political power. But this was restricted to advancing the fortunes of nice, Christian, white ladies like themselves. (Historically the group got the Texas Schoolboard to prohibit hiring Catholics as teachers.) Like the KKK, the women were nativists, anti-Semitic and anti-Catholic, organizing “Poison Squads” to denigrate enemies, and boycott immigrant-owned businesses.

“I hate talking this way,” says Lucinda before launching into another specious character assassination. “I really am a good person.”

The Ku Klux Klan issued the ladies’ chapters an organizing handbook, and Lucinda Davis (Barbara Roeder Harris) reads its advisories to her daughter-in-law Doris Davis (Megan Kaminsky), and Mabel Carson (Morgan Laurel Cohen) in planning sessions. Memberships in the WKKK are $10, which covers the cost of the robe and hood.

Mabel, the protagonist in the play, is an aspiring officer in the Mound chapter of the ladies KKK, encouraged by her husband, Tom Carson (Brad Harbaugh) into joining to advance the fortunes of their general store. An outsider, Mabel comes from Missouri (a Union state in the Civil War). As she witnesses Lucretia and Doris abuse David Stein (Richard Cotovsky), a Jewish reporter from the Chicago Tribune, Mabel pushes back, but only so far.

“Since when did we become so inhospitable to strangers?” she asks.
“Since these Jews and immigrants started taking over our country,” Lucinda replies venomously, pressuring Mabel until she turns Stein out in the night.

The performances and production values are good, with sets by Kevin Rolfs and costumes by Shelbi Wilkin. Mabel and Tom are a convincing couple with good chemistry. Harbaugh registers Tom’s pain convincingly, though Cohen’s conflicted Mabel cries so often that even the script calls it out.

The play is burdened with a subplot that seems forced, to presumably to add a dramatic structure to Invisible. Likewise some questionable subplots are forced into the mix.

For example, Stein is driven into the swamp where he is rescued by the mysterious 11 year old Ghost Girl (Maddy Fleming is quite good in her role). She brings him to her foster home on a prehistoric Indian Mound where she lives with Jubal (Lisa McConnell offers a boisterous performance).

The one person of color in this show, exotic, exuberant multi-ethnic Jubal, a former Chicago artist and sideshow performer, is the lone complainant about Klan-led injustice to black people – drumming and shouting in protest as corpses from lynchings pile up on the mound near her home. When Tom Carson tells her she will go to hell for her behavior, she drawls, “I am in hell, Master Tom – I lives in Mississippi!”

Jubal later convinces the reporter Stein to pitch a story about lynchings, and the Tribune agrees to cover it. A worthy endeavor, but a distraction from Invisible’s main story.
Nevertheless the performances are good, and the fundamental storyline strong enough to overcome these diversions. Bonnett’s works for Her Story Theater are aimed at “shining a light on women and children in need of social justice and community support.”

Invisible is intriguing, with its anti-immigrant tones resonating strongly today. And it shows how easily a woman can pressured socially down a perfidious path. But in highlighting the struggle of the protagonist Mabel amidst the racial depradations of the Klan against black people, the script indirectly conjures up another contemporary struggle – toxic white feminism. It's recommended. Invisible runs through November 3, 2019 at Stage 773, 1225 W. Belmont in Chicago. 

The late British playwright Peter Shaffer broke into new and radical territory with Equus. First produced in 1974 (and based loosely on a true event), the play tells of a grotesque crime by a teenaged boy, Alan Strang (Sean William Kelley is excellent) who put out the eyes of six horses in a stable. Strang is given a purposeful but extended nude scene, and presents us with his religio-erotic (though not sexual) relationship with horses. It tends to sell a lot of tickets.

Shaffer, who rose to even greater fame for his 1979 Amadeus – both a hit play and movie - was masterful in crafting “thinking” works. In Equus, he gives us the character of Alan's therapist Martin Dysart (Rian Jairell brings an understanding of the role), a figure struggling through his own dark night of the soul. Dysart feels he is on a treadmill, only healing young people who, as they "normalize," lose some of the magical and imaginative qualities that also drive their aberrant behaviors. 

That is particularly the case with Alan, who has developed an emotional fetish for horses in a Dionysian merger of the sexual and spiritual. But following the horrifying incident (it is shown as a recalled memory only at the end of the play), Alan is withdrawn, nearly catatonic, staring at the television, babbling advertising jingles, with difficulty relating or, understandably, recounting the event. A court magistrate, Hesther Salomon (Alexandra Bennett), brings the bizarre case to child psychologist Dysart, who must unravel what led the boy to his heinous act, and try to heal him.

But as he unwraps Alan's psyche, Dysart increasingly regrets his own station in life. “This is more than professional menopause,” Dysart complains to Hesther. "I'm jealous of Alan Strang. Such a fantastic surrender to the primitive!" 

Hesther's character as a fellow professional allows the two to comment for the audience’s benefit on the progress of the case. Dysart also looks for clues in the tensions between Alan’s parents, the excessively religious mother Dora Strang (Julie Partyka) and his austere atheist father Frank Strang (Robert Tobin).

AstonRep has given this production of Equus at The Edge Theatre much of the power that must have made the original so notable – using choreography and stylized puppetry (Jeremiah Barr) - with imposing horse masks on six players. As Dysart painstakingly works to get Alan Strang to open up, we learn of the boy's history working with horses, his love for them, and Alan re-enacts scenes with his favorite horse - Nugget – very well played by Jordan Pokorney who doubles as the stablemaster, Horseman.

In a notable scene, Alan mounts Nugget for a midnight ride on his beloved animal. And gradually, using hypnois and other therapeutic techniques, Dysart reveals Alan's skewed and rather sexualized worship of Nugget, who in Alan’s mind transforms to a horse god, Equus. Some of the therapeutic descriptions Dysart gives to Hesther sound a little dated, or even a bit offhand. Dysart uses the term "abreaction," something that dates back to Freudian psycholanalysis and is less current today. In describing his plans to trick Alan into deeper revelations, he sounds almost unprofessional by today's standards. 

There is an intensity and earnestness in the performances in this Equus – but director Derek Bertelsen needs to help the actors play off one another a little more, Instead, each actor plays for himself – though sometimes to good effect. Sean William Kelly as Alan Strang is a protrait of youthful estrangment, so his lack of chemistry with Dysart almmost makes sense - but seems unlikely in therapy. Alan's young love interest Jill Mason (Malia Hu) makes a good match with a nice frisson. By contrast, in scenes with Dysart it is as though the actors are in two different plays. 

Julie Partyka is compelling as Alan's mother Dora. “I’m a parent. We gave him the best we could. Whatever has happened has happened because Allen is ’him.’ He is not just the sum of us added up. The devil isn’t what mommy said or daddy said."

Where this Equus stumbles – and perhaps it was just the performance I saw - was in hearing and understanding the power of Martin Dysart’s internal struggle. Jairell gave us a rushed, and consequently somewhat monochromatic delivery. Even more so for Hesther Salomon – Bennett sometimes talked over the ends of Jairell’s sentences.

Because Dysart is so essential, I would love to see the language slowed down just a bit. Regardless, Equus is highly recommended for the quality of this production, and for a chance to see this ineffable work by a dramatic master. Equus runs through October 27 at The Edge Theatre, 5451 N. Broadway in Chicago.

When you arrive at Windy City Playhouse South for Every Brilliant Thing, you will be ushered into an elevator and emerge at the third floor loft theater entrance.

There a young woman greets you at a display case. Somehow, she seems to be in character already. In fact you will soon learn that this is not the house staff, but an actor, Rebecca Spence, and she is indeed already performing her role as Narrator. But Spence does much more than play this demanding role, one that stretches the definition of scripted performance.

Watching Spence (and unfamiliar with the play) I left completely convinced she had authored Every Brilliant Thing as a performance piece based on her own life. In fact, Every Brilliant Thing, written in 1984 by British playwright Duncan Macmillan, had a successful Broadway run, and was filmed for HBO.

It tells the story of a young adult (it has been played by men and women) whose mother veered into deep depressive episodes, eventually taking her own life. To contend with this, Narrator – who relates tales from elementary school, high school, college and adulthood – sought to create uplifting lists of “every brilliant thing” (puppies, rainbows, songs by Sarah Vaughan, etc.).

As a schoolgirl Narrator offered her first list of 300 items to boost her mother's spirits. As Narrator ages, the list grows from hundreds to thousands, and includes age-appropriate items. Eventually we realize she is keeping the list as her own coping mechanism to fend off adversity, as when her mother meets her end, or when Narrator's husband leaves her.

In keeping with Windy City Playhouse's immersive theatrics, Every Brilliant Thing has the Narrator involve the audience, choosing for each a “brilliant thing” from a collection in the display case that she deems is suitable to them. Seated in black leather club chairs, the each person is called on to read a word, phrase or long descriptor when Narrator calls out an associated number attached to the object they hold.

But Narrator goes even further – designating audience members to play key roles in the show, sometimes they follow her lead by reciting lines she dictates. Spence showed great insight in her selections of audience performers to play characters that Narrator met along her life’s path: a veterinarian, her father, a high school counselor, a girlfriend, a young man whom she marries and separates from.

That last one, a good looking dark haired man, gamely played through flirtatious library encounters, betrothal, wedding, and separation. The audience performer who played the high school counselor who good naturedly removed his shoe to turn his sock to a hand puppet - which he named "Trouble" to the delight of Spence and the audience.

Despite the dynamically constructed script, Every Brilliant Thing manages to have a dramatic arc, and a poignant storyline with touching moments, and a bottom line. "It occurred to me how much the list changed how I see the world along the way," says the Narrator.

With director Jessica Fisch, and the properties designer Eric Backus, Spence must be given great credit for managing the audience member performances. Given the ups and downs of attendance, it's hard to predict exactly what your experience of Every Brilliant Thing will be like - but with Spence in this role, I bet it will be good. Every Brilliant Thing runs through December 15 at Windy City Playhouse South in the Automobile Row District, 2229 S. Michigan Avenue in Chicago.

Booming thunder unleashed by a violent storm marks a scene change in King Hedley II, the sound and fury expressing the clash of deep emotional confrontations playing out as the stage goes to black.

Under the direction of Ron OJ Parson, Court Theatre gives us what is surely a definitive rendition of August Wilson’s 2000 play.

Wilson gives vivid voice to the life of his African American characters, showing them hemmed in and struggling for opportunity accorded readily to others. In King Hedley’s 1980s setting, amid trickle down economics, Americans saw greater divides between rich and poor, and rising mass incarceration. And against this backdrop, Wilson’s characters live life – with all its glory, and all its monumental tragedy, which abounds in the play.

In King Hedley II, the action takes place in 1985 in the backyards of two modest brick homes. Following five years in prison, Hedley (Kelvin Roston Jr.) returns to the home where his aunt raised him, optimistic, and aiming to rebuild his life. He plans to marry Tonya (Kierra Bunch). His aunt died while he was away, and his birth mother Ruby (actress Taylar) is now living in the house.

Hedley plants flower seeds, a perfect metaphor for his aspirations to reclaim his life, then struggles to stop others from trampling his young plants, and dragging him down with pessimism. His mother warns him the soil is too weak. Tonya, already a single mom, rebuffs Hedley’s overtures.

“I got to make it whatever way I can,” says Hedley (Kelvin Roston Jr.). “I look around and say 'Where's the barbed wire?”
“You could cut through barbed wire,” says Mister (Donald L. Conner). “But you can’t cut through not having a job.”

The ninth in Wilson’s ten-part Pittsburgh Cycle, each play takes place in that city, and each in a different decade. A Pulitzer finalist, it earned Viola Davis a Tony in its original Broadway run. I had the chance to see it in 2001 at Goodman Theatre, and barely understood what I watched then.

But at Court I threw down my program and leapt to my feet to cheer and applaud, like the rest of the audience, even before the final spotlight ended. It is that good, and hopefully we the people are better audiences for Wilson than 20 years ago. 

Though August's womenfolk are more guarded than optimistic, there is a hopefulness brought to Hedley by his buddy Mister, who works in a nail factory. Characteristically, Mister is hoping for a raise, that never materializes, even though business is booming. Hedley is in line to work on a demolition job for the City of Pittsburgh, but his employer (presumed to be African American) was denied the contract because the bid was too low, and the city doubted his capabilities.

Hedley and Mister devise side jobs, including re-selling refrigerators and, as opportunities narrow, plan a heist at a jewelry store. The plan and execution will remind you of  David Mamet's American Buffalo.

Into this intriguing setting come two even more powerful dramatis personae: the neighbor Stool Pigeon (Dexter Zollicoffer), a quirky person who is a hoarder, and delivers thundering prophecies drawn in ominous tones from long Bible passages. 

The other arrival is Elmore (A.C. Smith), hoping to recapture his lost love Ruby, and aiming to unburden himself of a secret that Ruby wanted both of them to take to her grave. (No spoiler here.) 

Smith tears up the stage with his larger than life Elmore. But then so does Zollicoffer as Stool Pigeon, a haunting character impossible to forget. And Taylar, Conner and Bunch all deliver remarkably good performances. And Roston gives us a complex, and nuanced portrait of Hedley.  

Wilson, who died in 2005, loads his plays with high-octane dialog. These can be challenging to deliver, or watch – with extra hurdles in understanding the overtones for white people like me. Parsons, working with this great cast, keeps each performance in balance with the others.

This is no small achievement when you realize that any of these characters could be the main protagonist in any other play. And indeed some recur in other works in the Pittsburgh Cycle. Act I of King Hedley II runs 80 minutes; after a 10 minute intermission Act II runs 70 minutes. You will be amazed at how quickly the time passes. Highly recommended for those who like great performances, staging, and a complex play. See King Hedley II through October 13 at Court Theatre in Chicago.

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The Woman in Black, a retelling of a 19th century gothic ghost story, has already begun electrifying audiences on Halsted Street. This finely-honed, two-man production features strong performances by Adam Wesley Brown as The Actor, and Bradley Armacost as a retired lawyer, Arthur Kipps.

We'll try to minimize any hint of a spoiler in reviewing this suspenseful entertainment, but we can reveal that it is a highly entertaining production with a worthy script. 

Running about 90 minutes with one intermission, the story opens with Kipps standing on stage and reading aloud from a hefty tome. He has hired The Actor to help him retell on stage a horrifying story from his past – hoping both to exorcise powerful, haunting memories, and to warn others to beware and avoid his fate. Kipps needs to gain acting skills to tell the story effectively to audiences – one that happens to be true, and which he knows well, because it happened to him 40 years ago.

But within the first 20 minutes devoted to this scene setting, the The Actor determines that Kipps, plodding woodenly through the script, is no actor.

"I must implore you to have sympathy for your audience," he advises Kipps impatiently. "Performing is an art acquired with tears and time." The Actor thinks the script needs some work, too, as he estimates it would take five hours to deliver.  "If your tale is to be heard, it must become palatable," he says. Kipps reluctantly agrees. 

And so The Actor takes on the role of playing him, and Kipps takes to playing several supporting roles. This transformation is both a study in the art of the theater, and a presentation of the manifest stage skills of Brown, an accomplished Shakespearean performer, and Armacost, who has very completely convinced us that Kipps cannot act at all.

Once they trade roles, and Brown begins playing Kipps (he looks a bit like a young Kenneth Branaugh), Armacost seamlessly sheds his inability to act, transforming into multiple supporting characters right before our eyes. Along with The Woman in Black's other merits, these performances are a delight to behold – and doubtless worth trying to see more than once.

Finely honed after nearly three decades on London’s West End - where it continues to delight crowds – The Woman in Black was originally commissioned as an adaptation from Susan Hill’s 1983 novel. For the Chicago run (through February) the show's London director, Robin Herford, has recreated his original staging for the first time in the U.S. It’s star credentials are further secured by another adaptation made from the book for the 2012 film, starring Daniel Radcliffe of Harry Potter fame.

The Woman in Black also serves as a darker alternative to the traditional Christmas shows. Posed as a scary tale told around the hearth late one Christmas Eve, there are ghostly figures in this story but the surprising outcome is decidedly different than other holiday shows. 

The Royal George subtly proffers The Woman in Black as a candidate for holiday-entertainment, the kind of scary story shared by Edwardian families. The tradition of sharing ghost stories around Christmas can be traced to pagan times, as the longer nights approaching the Winter Solstice conjured such tales while villagers huddled for warmth. This show also wards off the ennui some find in repeated efforts to extract seasonal cheer from Charles Dickens' Victorian-era ghost tale. 

Along with the spine-tingling excitement, this highly polished production restores to life to another sleeping specter, the main stage of the Royal George Theatre, one of the city’s most congenial performance venues. Dark for months (and just across the street from the heavily trafficked Steppenwolf Theatre) it’s now bound to be packed for this excellent show.

The play is a thriller, with many of the chills delivered the old fashioned way, through lighting, sound and props. It falls within the bounds of comfort for more sensitive viewers (like my companion) who will find it just below that threshold of covering-the-eyes scary). It's also hip enough to appeal to young adult audiences, who filled a third of the seats on opening night. 

The Woman in Black is highly recommended. Booked through February 19, 2019 at the Royal George Theatre, it plays Wednesdays through Saturdays at 7:30 p.m.; with matinees at 2:30 p.m. on Saturday and Sunday; and Sunday night performances at 7:00 p.m. 

The producers at Steppenwolf describe Pass Over as a “riff on Waiting for Godot” – and that’s true - except for this: Pass Over is not boring. In fact it is gripping and entertaining for every one of its 80 minutes of run time.

Written by Antoinette Nwandu and premiering under the direction of Danya Taymor, Pass Over is at once funny, alarming, sickening, and frightening. With shades of Master Harold & the Boys and Miss Margarita’s Way, it portrays two young inner city black men – Moses (Jon Michael Hill) and Kitch (Julian Parker)  hanging out under a street lamp, hoping to get off “the block.” To say these two give knock out performances is an understatement.

Like Groundhog Day, each morning they resume the wait, their hours punctuated periodically by gunfire, and the appearance of the menacing policeman Ossifer (Ryan Hallahan in a searing performance; he also plays the white-suited Mister) whose role is to dispel their hope, and keep them in their place.

Moses and Kitch are condemned, suggests Nwandu, to be “waiting for Godot” their whole lives. Unlike Beckett’s duo, Moses and Kitch are not abstract constructs, but real people. The warmth and mutual fealty of these two young men captures your heart through their amusing word games and youthful horseplay.

Nwandu also plumbs the depths of the emotional link between Moses and Kitch, and we bear witness to their bond. As in Beckett’s play, these characters form a suicide pact, but cannot do it.  

They survive, somehow, and hope returns repeatedly – even against all odds. But the two never escape, either, and Pass Over faces us with our contemporary social challenge. By making Moses and Kitch so accessible to us, by humanizing them, Nwandu brings a fresh immediacy to the lament, that Black Lives Matter.   

Pass Over is both timeless, and a powerful commentary on contemporary conditions. Into this piece, Nwandu has squeezed a book. Fully deconstructed, it could easily fill a college semester of study.

Part of the vaunted excellence of Beckett’s 1953 Waiting for Godot - an existentialist reverie on the seemingly endless insufferableness of life, and perhaps the meaningless of that suffering – is that the audience also experiences the ennui of that endless wait, in real time. Frankly it’s a bore.

Not so with Pass Over. It is fully realized in this production. I might quibble with the end of the play – it seemed heavy handed from a first viewing. But I am going to have to trust and respect the playwright's and director’s judgements, given the excellence of all that comes before. The performances by Hill and Parker in fact are so perfectly delivered, hopefully it is exactly what the playwright intended – because it is tremendous. It runs through July 9 at Steppenwolf Theatre.

The storyline in Relativity is a supposed to be a mystery. The great physicist and mathematical theoretician Albert Einstein fathered a daughter, Liserl, out of wedlock in Switzerland with Mileva Marić– but all mentions of her disappear after the age of two.

What happened to her? Several theories have been put forward – that she died of scarlet fever, that she was put up for adoption - but the historical track was largely obliterated with the destruction of many records during World War II. Though Einstein later married Marić, his daughter disappears from the historical record after 1904.

Mark St. Germaine’s Relativity poses one possibility on her whereabouts , and Einstein is confronted with it many years later, by a mysterious visitor to his quarters in Princeton. Margaret Harding (Katherine Keberlein), a journalist who has come to profile him for the Jewish Daily News – and to challenge him on his neglect of his daughter.

Suffice it to say we witness a fair amount of unresolved anger in the encounter, during which Einstein also learns he has a grandchild – also a genius - who is seeking his support in entering a top university. This colorful and intriguing tale is enticement enough to see Relativity. But an added bonus is the fact that the lead is played by the oldest working union actor in the U.S. – the indomitable Mike Nussbaum. Known for his skillful and intelligent delivery including some of David Mamet’s most challenging dramas, Nussbaum at 93 makes a striking appearance. That he can do it at all may be surprising, but Nussbaum delivers a textured and nuanced characterization of the great physicist. He is bring his all to the role, though he doesn’t project at the same intensity as in days of yore – or maybe it’s my hearing going.

The script is okay, with its once over lightly descriptions of Einstein’s unprecedented theorems, and the family angst grows tiresome pretty quickly. There is also a lot of exposition in which the reporter recounts famous quotes and anecdotes from Einstein, who fills in with one liners that elicit some laughs.

Ann Whitney plays a crotchety housekeeper and secretary, the real-life Helen Dukas, and her chemistry with Nussbaum is delightful. Their scenes provide insight into the suffering of an aging genius who is unlikely to discover new universal theories. Nussbaum brings an unusual gift to this aspect of the role, and a hunt for a piece of chalk to write a formula on a blackboard captures the essence of the matter, opening a window into the unsettling existential void.

As always Northlight delivers high production values (Jack Magaw on scenic design; JR Lederle on lighting; Stephen Mazurek fir Projection Design) and director BJ Jones does an excellent job orchestrating the production. Relativity runs through June 25 at Northlight Theatre in Skokie.

Objects in the Mirror, an outstanding play having its premier at Goodman Theatre, will soon have you wanting to know more about its author, Charles Smith, a Chicago playwright.  

Starring Daniel Kyri as Shedrick Yarkpai, this play springs from the true story of the real life Yarkpai, a refugee who fled Liberia in the aftermath of its first Civil War, struggling for 12 years across hostile terrain and through refugee camps in Guinea and Cote d’Ivoire.

Excellent performances and a creative set and lighting make this a show not to miss, especially for the wonderful writing of Charles Smith. Breon Arzell plays cousin Zaza Workolo; Ryan Kitley is Rob Mosher; and Lily Mojekwu as Shedrick’s mother Luopu Workolo is just spectacular – she steals all her scenes.

The real life Shedrick Yarkpai eventually made his way to Adelaide, Australia, and as fate would have it became an actor. And so, playwright Smith met him and heard his tale while staging another of his plays there - Free Man of Color (it won a 2004 Jeff Award and has been staged widely, including the Goodman).

Shedrick Yarkpai’s passage through the wilderness alone would be a worthy story, bringing our attention to the privation in Liberia wrought by years of civil chaos. But this play would not succeed as it does, unless it can hold our attention and keep us in our seats. 

And here Smith’s skillful craft shines through, along with director Chuck Smith and the creative team, who have turned the years-long odyssey of the protagonists, Shedrick and his uncle John Workolo (Allen Gilmore is terrific) – they ate grass, lived in the bush, both life and limbs, literally, endangered by violent, machete wielding warriors – and condensed it into an engaging trek, showing geography, educating us on the history, but all in an entertaining way, unlikely as this may seem.

Objects in the Mirror is so much more than a topical recount of Liberian suffering and struggle. Smith also puts before us the psychological and emotional toll on all refugees who must give up so much of their culture, and themselves, in resettling. Among the things so striking about Smith’s play is how he holds our interest in Shedrick’s odyssey. But he subordinates it to a more charged dramatic concern: the personal compromises refugees must make in escaping, and losses that can never be reclaimed.

In a way that only theater can, we engage and experience the personal emotional stress. And while we know of the trauma, what Smith conveys is the suffering from loss of identity, and of dreams. Shedrick has adopted a false identity to make it through border crossings – but he regrets the loss of his name.

Shedrick is a dreamer. He is also a storyteller, as is Smith, and the characters he has created. "Through storytelling, the play ascends to a powerful examination of truth and falsity, and the powers of persuasion. All good stories tell a strand of the truth," says Uncle John.

Once in Adelaide, Yarkpai finds work with a supportive Australian government agent – but Shedrick’s uncle John is fearful it will blow their cover. The debate through several scenes in which different characters tell their version of the parts of Shedrick's story is the stuff of great theater. 

The creative team includes Riccardo Hernandez (set design), Mike Tutaj (projection design), John Culbert (lighting design), Birgit Rattenborg Wise (costume design), Ray Nardelli (sound design). Briana J. Fahey is the production stage manager.

Objects in the Mirror runs through June 4 at the Goodman Theatre. It is highly recommended.

Let's cut to the chase on this review: Queen is the best show in town. 

Having its world premiere at Victory Gardens Theater, in Queen, Madhuri Shekar has delivered a knockout script, deftly directed by Joanie Schultz, and brought to life by a strong cast. 

Two PhD students - Sanam Shah (Priya Mohanty) and Ariel Spiegel (Darci Nalepa) - have spent six years examining a true-life dilemma: why honey bees are dying – a real-world environmental crisis.

Ariel does the field research, and Sanam – a highly regarded math wonder - crunches numbers for the data, which point to a farm chemical from Monsanto as the culprit. Or so five years of data have shown. But something is amiss.

Queen is a gripping account of academic intrigue laced with ethical challenges, along the lines of David Auburn’s provocative Proof, but with a much livelier pace.

The two are working under Dr. Philip Hayes (Stephen Spencer) who is to deliver within a few days a presentation on their work to an influential scientific group. The paper based on their research has been accepted for the journal Science. Dr. Hayes is gleeful about the prospects for his program, and promising access to big funding for the University.

A crisis looms as the latest research data does not support the earlier findings. Believing it stems from a glitch in the programming, Sanam searches desperately through the code. The pressure is on to bring the numbers in line with expectations.

If this sounds drab, it is anything but. Shekar lays out the science, and describes the culture of academia, in digestible bites. The human side of the drama comes to the fore in the relationship between the two women researchers, Sanam and Ariel, as the pressure mounts to get the results required by their academic overseer. BFFs, the two struggle through this growing professional chasm.

But it is the side-story about Sanam and a potential mate, Arvind Patel (Adam Poss) that leads to some exceptionally well-played scenes that steal the show – at least for me. Sanam’s diffidence about a date with Arvind (set up by her parents back in India) eventually leads to an unexpected romance.

Patel plays Arvind with a smooth, purring, throwaway manliness of that on-the-make single guy everyone knows. Sanam, who parries Arvind’s advances with vigor as he helps her puzzle out the math (he’s a math guy too, an investment manager who works in quant theory), and debate the ethical issues. To see the chemistry between Mohanty and Poss is worth a trip to the converted Biograph Theater.

Queen has been portrayed as an Earth Day oriented story, and a story of friendship among women. But it's also a showcase of great writing and acting.  Don’t miss Queen. It runs through May 14th and it's very highly recommended. 

For more show information click here. 

Scapegoat; Or (Why the Devil Always Loved Us) a satirical political drama now playing at the Den Theatre, takes the audience on a wild ride through a rather unusual family affair. But the play rapidly bogs down with its own complexity.

The curtain rises mid-action, and we gradually piece together that the six members of the Porter family are career politicians: patriarch Senator Anse Porter and his son, Congressman Coyote “Coy” Porter, represent Ohio as Democrats. The Senator’s Chief of Staff John Schuler is married to his daughter Leza, who is in the final weeks of her pregnancy. Matriarch Eleanor Porter and the Senator’s adopted daughter Margaret, are lobbyists for the United American Muslims.

The plot centers on the passage of a bill that would favor Christianity over other religions in the U.S. This bill is supported by Congressman Coy Porter, who is courted by the Religious Freedom Caucus, comprised of three Republican Senators: Frank Mason, Texas; Mary Colbourn, Illinois; and Perry Allen, Arizona.

Plans go awry when Congressman Porter’s father Anse, the senator, is outed as a Satanic Priest. He decides he will filibuster the bill. To dissuade him, so the bill can pass, the Religious Freedom Caucus hints they will award him a judgeship.

While it took a while to figure out what was going on, once I did, I loved the concept. And the play delivers some strong social commentary on religious freedom – a topic of great social currency. It also  scores some comedic points – Senator Porter delivers a complete Black Mass in downstage while the political drama unfolds upstage in convincingly delivered press conferences.

Jeffrey Freelon Jr. gives a strong performance as the put-upon Chief of Staff John Schuler. Likewise for Echaka Agba (Margaret), John Kelly Connolly (Frank), Barbara Figgins (Eleanor Porter), Jack McCabe (Perry), Cassidy Slaughter-Mason (Leza), Kelli Strickland (Mary) and Norm Woodel (Anse).

Scapegoat is needlessly layered, starting with its grammatically suspect title, through characters whose background and details have little bearing on the main action on stage: That Margaret is the Senator’s adopted daughter is revealed in the second act – along with the fact that she chose to keep her birth mother’s last name (so she is Okafor-Porter). So? Coy Porter is widowed, and occasionally has seizures. Um, did we need to know that? This made Evan Linder’s job playing Coy a challenge, but he rose to it.

Scapegoat is by and large a sentimental comedy. The script by Connor McNamara, a Chicago actor, brought to mind those fast-paced 1930’s screwball comedies loaded with mayhem. But the play is probably closer to You Can't Take It With You, George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart’s 1936 Pulitzer prize-winning satire. 

There are some rich moments here: Deciding to filibuster anyway, Anse reads chapter and verse from the satanic scriptures, driving the believing Caucus senators from the chamber floor. This intelligent script which renders the political processes and dynamics with veracity, is, is fast paced and strong at its core. The direction by Kristina Valada-Viars is very well done. Scapegoat plays through May 7. www.thenewcolony.org