Displaying items by tag: Raven Theatre

The Y2K era was a wild time to be a girl. Bubblegum pop juxtaposed against futuristic silver-scaled sets, female artists viciously pitted against one another in the media, women and young girls being viewed as simultaneously pure and virginal and corrupt and sexual deviants. All of these themes are perfectly captured in the millennial time capsule of a play The Love Object now playing at Raven Theatre.

On the eve of Ramona's sold-out stadium tour, her best friend and trusted assistant Paula announces she is leaving to pursue her own artistry. Fearing the loss of her closest confidante, Ramona reveals that a sex tape she made is about to be released, tainting her image (and ticket sales) forever. Will Paula stay and clean up Ramona's mess one more time or finally escape the oppressive celebrity machine for good? The Love Object is a contemporary adaptation of Euripides' Hippolytus, examining the hyper-sexualization of women celebrities, the power struggles of interracial friendship, and the tragedies of late-stage capitalism, all through the bubblegum veneer of an early 2000s pop superstar.

Much like its Greek predecessor, The Love Object, the characters within the play all have a bit of blindness that prevents them from understanding the other's perspective; Ramona, played by Emily Holland, failing to understand why Paula would want to leave, Paula, played by Kaylah Marie Crosby,  failing to understand the loneliness of stardom, and Simon, played by William Anthony Sebastian Rose II, failing to understand the complexities of female choices and consequences of his own actions. The undercurrent of purity and sexuality throughout the play is represented not only in the main protagonists but also in the supporting back up dancers, Tish, played by Cat Christmas, Randy, played by Spencer Diaz Tootle, and Kylie, played by Mollyanne Nunn, all of whom have their own squabbles with one another while also viewing Ramona through both lenses of a virgin and a sinner.

Looking back at the bubblegum pop era through the social context of today we have sure come a long way. We as a society were awful to young women, judgemental, critical, and downright vicious. Time allows us to look back on that period with a kinder viewpoint, one that is not so polarized. Being able to view The Love Object through the same lens affords us the ability to equally despise the vain pop star and be sympathetic to her loneliness of lacking in any real or substantive friendships, or to resent the assistant and her actions and also embrace the karmic justice of our f-around and find out world. With a minimalist futuristic set, early 2000s pop culture references, superb acting, and a storyline every millennial woman can relate to, The Love Object is a perfect time capsule for this fall theatre scene and one sure to entertain.

The Love Object, presented by The Story Theatre at Raven Theatre (6157 N Clark St, Chicago), runs through November 3rd. Ramona’s tour is selling out fast so be sure to grab your tickets with backstage access at www.raventheatre.com/season42/. 

King Solomon once wrote there is nothing new under the sun, I will also add, there are no new stories to be told. The only difference is how the stories are told. Chicago playwright Joshua Allen with the second installment of his Grand Boulevard Trilogy is proving himself to be quite the storyteller, making what’s old new again.

The story starts calmy enough with a knock on the door in the early morning of October. Answering the door is Mrs. Elkins (the always excellent Shariba Rivers), a 51-year-old widower raising her 16-year-old granddaughter. She has a stoic countenance about her. This is a woman who has endured pain and lost. We learn she was 16 when she had her only child with her then boyfriend, whom she married. She endured a loveless marriage until his death at the age of 39. Mrs. Elkin’s daughter dropped off her daughter in 1946 for Mrs. Elkin to take care of while she went to Woolworth’s. She hasn’t been seen since. Mrs. Elkins works at a dental office as a receptionist. She owns the apartment building, renting out the upper floors to tenants while she and her granddaughter live in the basement apartment. Life has taught Mrs. Elkins to take care of herself. She is a hard smoking, no nonsense pragmatic woman.

On the other side of the door is Crutch (a youthful Brandon Sapp), Gloria’s little boyfriend. Crutch is as charming and affable as any young teenager of the times. He is smart and quick witted and comes from a “good” family. He is hopelessly devoted to Gloria, so much so, he sets in motion the storm of this play.

Gloria (the talented Jaeda LaVonne) is dealing with typical teenage angst. She is much more mature than her boyfriend Crutch. She knows how to use her feminine wiles. She has an active imagination and a quick tongue. The fact she resides in the same place as her strong-willed grandmother is enough to create a year-round storm.

Upstairs neighbor Lucille (a comic turn by Felisha D. McNeal) is the village needed to raise a child. She is the opposite of Mrs. Elkins. Although she is at least 10 years older than her landlady, she is spirited and jovial. She enjoys life to the fullest. Her years as a schoolteacher gives her an advantage with Gloria and Crutch. Lucille is the perfect advocate for the teens.

The last character is the Korean War vet Louis (the skillful Nathaniel Andrew) renting the second-floor apartment. Soft spoken and suffering from PTSD, Louis is easy to love, but he won’t be manipulated.

Under the astute direction of Malkia Stampley the play has a freshness and immediacy. The tension is thick throughout the story. The connections between the characters are real. We are never allowed to rest in our feelings before another plotline presents itself, even though we know where it leads.

The set by Sotirios Livaditisis is realistic and functional. The beautiful lighting design by Jared Gooding evokes time as well as mood changes. No one looks better in 60’s fashion than Shariba Rivers. Thanks to Alexia Rutherford’s costume designs we knew exactly the era and social standing of all these characters. The costumes popped. The original music by Christopher Kriz is beautiful, perfectly setting the tone. Allen has written a beautiful slow burn of a play. While there are few surprises, the acting and complete production design lifts the story off the page creating an enjoyable theatrical event. Luckily, the more things change, the more they stay the same. RECOMMENDED

When: Through June 25

Where: Raven Theatre 6157N. Clark St. Running time: 1 hour 45 minutes with one intermission

Tickets: $40 (students, active military, and veterans $15)

Contact: raventheatre.com

‘Right to Be Forgotten ' is a play for our times, in contemporary language and a production at Raven Theatre that is laser-focused on an issue of our day—the inability of the average person to remove online content about themselves that is damaging or even life-threatening.

Directed by Sarah Gitenstein from a script by Sharyn Rothstein, this Chicago premiere features minimalist sets—a simple table and chairs evokes a coffee shop; a desk makes an office—and characters that are quickly recognizable types. The stage features a surround of screens on which social media posts and Google search results are displayed, apropos of the subject: the indelible stamp made by digital records of our lives.

Hapless 17-year-old nerd Derril Lark (Adam Shalzi), who for weeks dogged his first school crush, Jamila Tyler (Eve Salinsky), was called into the principal’s office and set straight. Mending his ways thereafter, his stalking behavior was documented on the ‘High School Girl’ blog, and he soon became a symbol of stalkers despite stopping his behavior.

A decade later Darril Lark is at work on his PhD in literature, and dreaming of settling into a serious relationship. Dating through match-up apps, he meets Sarita (Kelsey Elyse Rodriguez), and the two hit it off. But very soon he divulges to Sarita that his profile carries an assumed name, for his real name is infinitely attached to the hashtag #lurkinlark. The story of his brief high school misstep was subsumed into an onslaught of posts about other heinous aggressions suffered by girls and women everywhere, along with numerous related supportive posts, all of which appear when anyone googles his real name.

The story leads us through Darril's futile attempts to have his history cleared voluntarily by the search engine giant, using their appeals process. In desperation he pleads his case to a lawyer known in the field for battling internet behemoths, Marta Lee (Susaan Jamshidi), who takes his case. The plot now turns on the legal and eventually political jousting around his case, leading us through the twists and turns of a first-rate courtroom drama.

‘Right to Be Forgotten’ is an artful exploration of the dynamics of a fraught societal issue. Threaded neatly with exposition of the subject, we learn that Europeans have the right to be forgotten, and upon request can have their histories expunged from the web. Via the clashes among lawyers, politicos, and individuals online (who are both consumers and suppliers of content) the playwright leads the audience to understand the unresolved tension in the U.S. between freedom of expression, and the right to privacy, both enshrined in the Constitution.

In some respects this script is a series of vignettes, and characters and dialog are lean and purposeful, like a web search result. While not naturalistic—we get just what we need to know, both about the characters, and for scenes to advance the action—the whole of ‘Right to Be Forgotten’ works together to conjure our empathy for individual suffering. And it ends with a satisfying, even optimistic resolution. Running through March 26 at Raven Theatre in Chicago, ‘Right to Be Forgotten’ is unforgettable, and comes highly recommended.

*Extended through April 2nd!

Playwright Jackie Sibblies Drury titled the play ‘Marys’ Seacole to emphasize its depiction of multiple Marys.  Jerrell L. Henderson and Hannah Todd direct the collective Marys in kaleidoscopic vignettes at breakneck pace.

Mary Jane Seacole was a British-Jamaican nurse. At the outbreak of the Crimean War she applied to the British War Office for work with the casualties. When her request was denied, she traveled independently to Balaklava and, using salvaged driftwood, packing cases, and iron sheets, set up the "British Hotel" behind the lines, where she provided nutritious food and “comfortable quarters for sick and convalescent officers”. 

Seacole came from a tradition of Jamaican and West African “doctresses”, who mastered folk medicine by treating fellow slaves on sugar plantations. These Creole doctresses prioritized hygiene decades before Florence Nightingale adopted it. From them Seacole learned to employ hygiene, ventilation, warmth, hydration, rest, nutrition and empathy.   

MARYS SEACOLE opens with Stephanie Mattos (Mary) standing imperiously in a spotlight. After a perfectly-timed silence she declares, "I am a Creole, and have good Scots blood coursing through my veins." Seacole was equally proud of her black ancestry: "I have a few shades of deeper brown upon my skin which shows me related – and I am proud of the relationship – to those poor mortals whom you once held enslaved, and whose bodies America still owns.” 

MARYS SEACOLE seesaws across continents and over time to diverse high points of Seacole’s life. The frenzied vacillation of time and space can be disorienting, time-traveling at breakneck speed between the Kingston of her childhood, the British Hotel in the Crimea, and the menial work in her old age. Accompanying Mattos on this odyssey are Duppy Mary (RJW Mays), Mamie (Mackenzie Williams), May (Jesi Mullins), Miriam (Izzie Jones) and Merry (India Whiteside).

What strikes me most forcefully in MARYS SEACOLE is the racism. When Seacole applied for a position with Florence Nightingale, the Lady with the Lamp wrote, "I had the greatest difficulty in repelling Mrs. Seacole's advances, and in preventing association between her and my nurses (absolutely out of the question!)... Mrs. Seacole introduces much kindness - also much drunkenness and improper conduct".  

Seacole disingenuously observes, "Was it possible that American prejudices against colour had some root here? Did these ladies shrink from accepting my aid because my blood flowed beneath a somewhat duskier skin than theirs?" A lodger at the British Hotel describes Seacole as "an old dame of a jovial appearance, but a few shades darker than the white lily" – this from one of her supporters!

Joe Johnson’s stark set, strategically lit by Matt Sharp with Assistant Karen Wallace, allows the characters to dominate. Costumes by Anne Wooden are fabulously period, and Ivy Treccani doesn’t clutter the production with unnecessary Properties. Fight Choreographer Jesi Mullins (who also plays May) is particularly excellent in the dustup during the final scenes. Dialect Coach Adam Goldstein does almost too good a job: the Jamaican patois is so authentic I occasionally had trouble understanding! William Massolia (Artistic Director), L.J. Luthringer (Sound), Matthew R Chase (Production), Anna Walker (Stage), and Danny Halminiak (Technical Director) collaborate to forge a seamless whole of the mercurial chronicle.

The traditional role of Woman as Healer is overshadowed throughout by the even-more-traditional aspect of racism. Mary Seacole was largely forgotten for nearly a century; when in 2016 she was honored with a statue at St Thomas’ London Hospital, controversy arose from those fixated on Florence Nightingale’s legacy.  Salman Rushdie cites Seacole as an example of ‘hidden’ black history: "See, here is Mary Seacole, who did as much in the Crimea as another magic-lamping lady, but, being dark, could scarcely be seen for the flame of Florence's candle." 

My befuddlement with the peripatetic narrative is eclipsed only by my appreciation of a masterwork superbly executed.

MARYS SEACOLE is performed by Griffin Theatre Company at the Raven Theatre

Let me begin by saying, this was one helluva 90 minutes in Chicago theatre. We enter the theatre to the sound of a combination of Jazz, trap music and hip-hop. There is a sign reading “This is not history”. On stage, the set, a French street with boarded up storefronts with the name of the play prominently on display. I was not aware of the roller coaster ride I was about to witness.

Terry Guest successfully uses the French Revolution as background for several Black uprisings. A tall order to say the least. The cast enters and opens what appears to be a pandora’s box of costumes. We are off to a thrilling night of theater. This is just the beginning of the time travel and the various people we will meet.

The ensemble consists of Jim Crow (Keith Iliddge), Mammy (Amber Washington), Sapphire (Danyelle Monson), Sambo (Maya Vinice Prentiss), Savage Nathaniel Andrew. They are not history. They’re stereotypes. These ensemble members also play other characters as well such as JFK, Jacqueline Kennedy (complete with bloody pink Chanel suit) Martin Luther King, Malcolm X, Ida B. Wells, Axel Von Fersen, Toussaint L”Ouverture and Napoleon. Yes, that Napoleon. This is History.

Joining these characters on stage in various times of their lives are Marie Antoinette (Brenna Di Stasio) and Louis LVI (David Stobbe). The goings on at Versailles is commentated by a on scene reporter to hilarious results. This ensemble was wonderful to watch. They assumed the characters and told the story with excitement and verve.  

The play moves at an extremely fast pace. You have stay awake to catch everything, and you do want to catch EVERYTHING! You got to be woke. We may start in 18^th century France, but we travel to the Haitian Revolution, Los Angeles “Rodney King” uprisings, Ferguson Missouri, for Michael Brown, Minneapolis for George Floyd, and other places where there have been uprisings. Through all these metamorphoses the ensemble shifts effortlessly. In a surprising turn the audience becomes the Revolutionary Tribunal convicting Marie Antoinette to death after a vote. This is a fun evening.

The script is wonderfully complex. Terry Guest’s writing reminds me of a young Susan Lori Parks. I’m excited to see what else he has to say. He has directed the cast to work as efficiently as possible to fantastic results. This play is a must see, maybe twice, you’re bound to miss something.

The Story Theatre’s Marie Antoinette and the Magical Negroes is playing thru July 17^th at Raven Theatre.  

*Extended through July 24th

Life comes at you fast. We go about our lives, navigating the ups and the downs, never really thinking of  more than the day to day, the little irritations of work, or being consumed by a new love. Then, as it always seems to go, something upends our life, like a life threatening illness. Suddenly everything that once consumed our thoughts becomes trivial, eclipsed by the momumentalness of the new reality. While most could succumb to the pressure of such news, others persevere, determined to live their life on their terms, regardless of knowing what lies ahead of them. This very real life scenario played out in Melissa Ross’ 'The Luckiest'.

Lissette and Peter are best friends living their best lives. But when an out-of-nowhere diagnosis shatters Lissette's world, Peter is left trying to pick up the pieces. Suddenly finding herself at odds with her best friend and her mom – who each come bearing strong opinions wrapped in good intentions – Lissette is forced to navigate between the two while unflinchingly forging her own path for her future. This tender, funny, and keenly-observed play explores the uncertain and sometimes heartbreaking territory of how we choose to take ownership of our lives. Melissa Ross’ moving play, full of heartbreak and hilarity makes its Chicago Premiere.

As one who nows cries at every sad or beautiful movie, play, or song, I fully expected to be clutching a tissue all evening while watching The Luckiest. As I watched Lissette, played by Cassidy Slaughter-Mason, and Peter, played by Christopher Wayland, throughout their friendship we see a beautiful complex narrative that forces the question, “who really is the luckiest?” Is the luckiest Lissette, who, despite this life ending illness, chooses her own fate and lives her life unabashedly? Is she the luckiest to have had such a friend as Peter, who helped her navigate her life with the illness? Perhaps the luckiest is Peter, who is lucky to have met and befriended Lissette, lucky to have had him in her life. One could say Lissette’s mother, played by Tara Mallen, is the luckiest to hae been there for her daughter in her time of need. Consider for a moment that the luckiest people are the survivors, Peter and Lissette’s mother, who live on no longer under the weight of caretaking nor bearers of the weight of such a onerous decision. Maybe the luckiest person is the one who chooses to leave this world, no longer in pain or heartache. 

The beauty of Melissa Ross’ 'The Luckiest' is that the lucky one is in the eye of the beholder. She holds a mirror to our lives with honesty, grounding, and even a little dark humor. I happen to think that we, the audience, are the lucky ones. We’re lucky to be spectators to such a story, to have our health and ability to see Lisette and hear her words, and walk away from the play knowing we too could have our lives changed at any moment; a reminder to live our lives. 'The Luckiest' is a substantioanlly light play that is sure to stay with you long after you leave the theatre, and we are all the more lucky for it.

'The Luckiest' is playing at Raven Theatre located at 6157 N. Clark Street, Chicago, IL 60660 through June 9th. Tickets are available at https://www.raventheatre.com/stage/the-luckiest/.

How well does a three hour Russian science fiction film translate to stage? Surprisingly well. Griffin Theatre gives the North American premiere of David Grieg’s 2019 adaptation of the classic Tarkovsky film. The intimate staging at Raven Theatre gives audiences the same sense of deprivation one might have on a floating space station.

“Solaris” is a water-based planet around which a space station is orbiting. Strange things begin happening to the crew who live in isolation aboard the space station. Dr. Kelvin (Isa Arciniegas) is sent to the space station after the suicide of a crewmember. Once she arrives, she notices the emotional disturbances for herself. Though Solaris remains a mystery to the three doctors aboard the space station, one doctor is convinced of its malevolent intentions. While Dr. Kelvin starts to become enamored with Solaris, Dr. Sartorius (Nicole Laurenzi) warns that the visions Kelvin is experiencing can’t be trusted.

Director Scott Weinstein keeps the pace moving, divesting the show of some of the film’s more laborious elements. The small cast led by Isa Arciniegas and John Drea (as her manifestation), capture the moodiness of planet Solaris. There’s not much melodrama here, but rather a slow and steady unraveling. In order to believe the relationship between Kelvin and Ray, romantic chemistry is essential. Arcinegas and Drea play well off each other and their flirtation, however unsettling, is palpable.

Original reviews of the 1972 film version of “Solaris” praised the advanced set design. Scenic designer Joe Schermoly rises to the task. Futuristic spaceship can be tricky to do on a theatre budget, but this story doesn’t call for a lot of technological achievement. Schermoly’s set is functional and stylish. The stark backdrop lends to the feeling of coldness.

“Solaris” is a modern love story set in space. It’s less an exploration of the far reaches of the galaxy and more of an exploration of the human subconscious. At the time of the novel’s release, the USA and the Soviet Union were engaged in a highly competitive race to put the first person on the moon. What “Solaris” does is examine the space race from a different perspective. It asks what psychological effect space travel has. Science fiction films about aliens were popular in the midcentury, as humans took to space. “Solaris” bucks this popular theme in that the lifeforms in this story seem to come from a place of love. It’s a variation on the classic alien story, but perhaps a more uplifting, or at the very least more mature.

“Solaris” is an essential story in our futuristic world of personalized operating systems and hyper-realistic video games. A play, even an adaptation, must ask a central question in order to be useful to an audience. The themes at the center of “Solaris” are much more Earthly than the scenario might seem. Love is a powerful emotion and it often clouds reason and judgement. Is it a feeling we can rationalize ourselves out of? Author Stanislaw Lem makes a strong case against rationalizing romantic love. In the end, Lem was a romantic and “Solaris” is ultimately an unlikely romance. Through March 27^th at Raven Theatre.  6157 N. Clark Street - 773.338.2177.

Raven Theater has a penchant for aptly timed revivals, and their production of Henrik Ibsen's A Doll's House is no exception. Published and set circa 1879 in Norway, the play offers a snapshot of domestic life at the time, reminding us how much progress has been made since then -- and warning us not repeat history.

Nora is a happy wife with a loving husband, three children, and a comfortable home. Everything seems grand, until the cracks start to show in the veneer of their supposed domestic happiness.

Husband Torvald, smiling, makes passive-aggressive comments to his wife about her spending habits, even though she's merely purchased some Christmas gifts for the children. Nora, of course, is not allowed to work to earn her own money either. In other words, money is a catch-22 for Nora, and for Torvald's it's a way to assert dominance. He spends most of his time holed up in his study, occasionally checking in on his wife and making sure she knows her place, calling her gentle pet names like "songbird" and his "doll."

Little does Torvald know or even deign to imagine that Nora has hopes, fears, opinions, and secrets of her own that she works to hide from him. In this house, she knows it is not her place to be her own person; that is the husband's job. She is meant to decorate, care for the children alongside the nanny they already hire to care for the children, tend to her husband, and dance well at parties.

Nora is not even allowed to open the household mailbox, to which only Torvald has a key, yet another way for him to keep her under his thumb. The locked mailbox serves as a tangible symbol of the world, life, and opportunities that Nora can't access due to her position and gender. For all intents and purposes, she's a prisoner in her own domestic life, requiring permission from the warden, her husband, for anything she may need or want.

There's satisfaction in watching Nora realize over the course of the play what kind of man her husband really is, and actress Amira Danan deftly conveyed this transformation from bright and cheery to wise and wary. Whether or not she escapes her prison I'll leave a mystery. But I will leave you with the fun fact that this play caused significant controversy when it went into production in 1879.

According to playwright Ibsen at the time A Doll's House was written, "a woman isn't allowed to be herself in modern society." While that, thankfully, has changed, it should be pointed out that it was not so long ago Ibsen said this -- less than 150 years -- and to see this dynamic of the controlling husband and stifled wife play out onstage serves as a stark reminder of how far we've come, and where not to go again.

A Doll's House is playing through March 22 at Raven Theatre at 6157 N Clark St. Tickets and schedule here. 

If there’s ever been a time for Paula Vogel’s 1997 Pulitzer Prize winner ‘How I Learned to Drive’ it’s now. In the wake of the #metoo movement, a play about a young woman being taken advantage of by her older uncle seems extremely relevant. Under the direction of Raven Theatre artistic director Cody Estle, ‘How I Learned to Drive’ makes its second appearance in Chicago this year. Artistic Home revived it in the spring.

If you’re wondering which one was better, it’s Raven’s. The combination of strong direction and even stronger performances makes this a more solid production. This play hinges on the lead actress in the role of Li’l Bit. Eliza Stoughton turns in a powerhouse performance. She’s consistent throughout the 90-minute run time. The script moves in quick vignettes that span from her teenage years until the present. It’s not an easy feat to make the teenage version of the character as dynamic as the grown version. Stoughton strikes the perfect balance, picking up on the nuances of Vogel’s complex script. Though, it’s not just her that makes this cast so great. Kathryn Acosta is double cast as Li’l Bit’s mother and her aunt. She achieves the humor of the dialogue in a subtle way with all the appearance and poise of a brunette Betty Draper.

Cody Estle’s vision for this show is very definitive. Scene transitions are accented with captivating projections that place the audience right into the 1960s. Again, think ‘Mad Men’. There’s a branded quality to this show that feels exceedingly professional. The art of subtlety might be the real star. Estle has mined this play for all the psychological tells of abuse that Vogel nestles into the dialogue. The characters never go over the top, which can easily be done in such a juicy play. This feels like real life despite Vogel’s unique storytelling device of driving lessons as a means to propel the action.

‘How I Learned to Drive’ is by now a modern American classic. Perhaps too risqué for high school drama, but it now finds itself within the cannon beside ‘Rabbit Hole’ and ‘Dinner with Friends.’ An essential play for our modern times. Vogel has continued to be a voice for women in an art that is even still somewhat dominated by male playwrights. Raven Theatre does the script its justice in a time in which it would be nearly impossible to separate it from the #metoo and #timesup movements. Perhaps Vogel was eerily ahead of her time. If you’ve been meaning to see a faithful production of this play, Raven Theatre Company has you covered.

Through March 24 at Raven Theatre Company. 6157 N Clark St. 773-338-2177

There’s something special about tuning into a b-movie on a summer night. Kitschy tales of shlock and horror are as American as baseball, and who better to tell them than Tennessee Williams? The much-esteemed playwright is better remembered for Pulitzer Prize winners like ‘A Streetcar Named Desire’ and ‘Cat on a Hot Tin Roof’ but the minor works of Williams are as thrilling.

Raven Theatre revives Williams’ 1958 play ‘Suddenly Last Summer’ under the direction of Jason Gerace. Perhaps more memorable for the film adaptation starring Elizabeth Taylor and Katherine Hepburn, ‘Suddenly Last Summer’ is pure Williams. There are southern drawls, sexual intrigue and a boiling plot.

Raven’s production is lush and radiant in their intimate space, but it’s the performances that are this production’s strongest asset. The first scene is a somewhat tedious introduction to Violet Venerable (Mary K Nigohosian), the aging mother of the deceased Sabastian whose mysterious death is at the play’s center. Nigohosian is deliciously evil. There’s a sweetness in her performance that makes her sinister intention just melt in your mouth. One could listen her to monologue all night.

Violet’s young niece Catherine Holly (Grayson Heyl) holds the answer to the untimely death of Sebastian, as she was the only witness. Her version is graphic and disturbing and Violet will stop at nothing to keep her quiet. Heyl is well cast. She sways deftly between manic and rational. Her physicality is transfixing. It’s impossible not to be glued to her final monologue. A good marriage between Williams’ way with stories and Heyl’s talents.

‘Suddenly Last Summer’ is not Williams’ most important work, but remains a testament to his gift with language. This production is arguably more entertaining than the 1959 film. ‘Suddenly Last Summer’ is anything but boring and a summer audience will appreciate that Raven is performing it without an intermission. It pushed envelope for a mid-century Broadway audience, but nowadays it stands out among his plays for its riveting and twisting plot. If you’re in the mood for some drive-in style chills, ‘Suddenly Last Summer’ will scratch your itch.

Through June 17th at Raven Theatre. 6157 N Clark Street. 773-338-2177