Displaying items by tag: theatre

Forget about the lofty plans you had for the day, the goals you had set.  Grab your girls, all your friends, your snacks, your drinks, and head over to Miss Cook’s Women’s Gym!

WaistWatchers the Musical will have you and your friends laughing hysterically and cheering along with MC, Cheryl, Cindy, Carla and Connie.  Up close and personal within the alcoves of the Royal George Theatre, inspiring you through sweat, tears, song and their supportive friendships, we go through the struggles of these strong women trying to reach their gym goals. Their reasons vary. For some it is for love, others for acceptance of themselves, and some for those who just want to control their cravings for the decadence of delicious life.

                                                                                                                With the terrific cast of WaistWatchers the Musial

The cast is finely tuned and features fantastic performers like Martha Wash, a two-time Grammy nominee (Connie) who we all know as one of the The Weather Girls that brought us “It’s Raining Men” and "Everybody Dance Now".  Along with the powerhouse voices of Katherine S. Barnes (MC), Krissy Johnson (Cheryl), Sarah Godwin (Cindy) and Kiley L. McDonald (Carla). This 90-minute musical, which allows audience members to refill their snacks and drinks throughout the non-stop performance, contains a plethora of musical styles from pop and soul to country. The sassy musical includes remakes of songs that we love, clever lyrics and plenty of cheeky commentary. After watching this fun and inspiring show you will probably wonder when the next open class is available near you. 

Created by Alan Jacobson (Book and Lyrics) with Vince DiMura (Music) and directed by Matt Silva get your tickets to WaistWatchers the Musical now. Show times are: Wed. 7:30PM, Thu. 2PM & 7:30PM, Fri. 8PM, Sat. 2PM & 8PM, Sun. 2PM. For more information on this highly humorous musical, visit http://waistwatchersthemusical.com.

The excitement begins as you walk up to the Mayslake Peabody Estate. It screams Poe, despite the fact that it was built around 1920, some 70 years after the great American writer’s death. Upon entering we are given a dance card. Two colors are distributed – blue and yellow. The card one receives determines the path they will take in experiencing an intimate peek inside the head of Edgar Allan Poe. Though the two paths start off in different directions, ultimately the audience is told the same story, though through a changed order of events. Essentially, two plays take place at one time.

First Folio’s “The Madness of Edgar Allan Poe: A Love Story” was a favorite of mine when I came across it in 2015. I felt it was one of the best, if not the best, play I had seen that year. This year, as we begin to wrap up 2018, I feel the exact same way. Christian Gray, who reprises the role of Poe, is an extraordinary actor and is allowed to cut loose in this play to give us the performance of a lifetime. The intensity and passion Gray gives to the role is authentic and would be tough to match by any other actor. Almost seemingly born for this role, Gray is a pleasure to behold in each and every scene, the audience getting their first taste of his command in the play’s opening act that revolves around Poe’s “The Bells”, just prior to splitting up on different paths. "Bells! Bells! Bells! Bells! Bells!"

The play moves from room to room throughout the Tudor Revival styled mansion as scenes break out in several rooms, the staircase and hallways. The interior of the mansion perfectly provides such a sincere set it would be easy to imagine we are lost in time with Poe and the characters he created. Each location holds setting for a different story, though the overall theme clearly revolves around the love between Poe and his much younger wife (and cousin), Virginia. After all, this is a love story and a remarkable one at that as we see - and feel - Edgar and Virginia's undying love for each other throughout the play.

Executive Director David Rice’s masterful piece is nothing short of brilliant as every nuance and touch are considered to make the journey all the more unforgettable. Favorite stories by Poe are acted out with the rich flavor they so much deserve. Sam Pearson’s energy-filled performance as The Madman in Poe’s “Tell-Tale Heart” is as intense as it is memorable while Mbali Guliwe take on The Prisoner in “The Pit and the Pendulum” penetrates through the crowd in the intimate setting of the once pitch-black room.

Poe’s wife, Virginia, is well-played by Erica Bittner, her best as she beautifully delivers the poem she had written for her husband. The love between the two is real and eternal. This is aided by Skyler Schrempp’s great direction and executed by Gray and Bittner’s exceptional performances.

The entire audience reunites for the play’s final act, “The Masque of the Red Death”. It is a triumphant finale to an incredible journey. The scene is elegant but foreboding. It is, the perfect ending to a nearly flawless production.

Christian Gray is a force. Gray’s performance alone is worth the price of admission - easily. But when you add several other dynamic acting performances, its truly unique one-of-a-kind setting along with the masterful writing and staging to support such an incredible story, this play is one of the biggest theatre bargains of the year – and it should be experienced by everyone.

With Halloween just around the corner, the air is right and the mood inviting for First Folio’s classic take on Edgar Allan Poe.

Highly recommended.

“The Madness of Edgar Allan Poe: A Love Story” is being performed at Mayslake Peabody Estate in Oakbrook through November 4th. For tickets and/or more information, please visit www.firstfolio.org.

Having been close with many people with disabilities over the course of my life, I’m often hesitant when it comes to media about such individuals. Too often, books or films or plays dealing with disabilities end up being either demeaning to the folks who have them or cloying and saccharine to the audience. Earlier in this young millennium, I was thrilled to find and read Mark Haddon’s novel, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, a rare tale that falls into neither of these traps. Haddon’s novel became a favorite of mine, its important-sounding title (taken from a line in a Sherlock Holmes story) hinting at the very big steps taken by its protagonist and narrator, a British teen afflicted with autism. And now I can say that the Steppenwolf Theatre’s current stage production based on the novel has become one of the best shows I’ve seen — this year or any other, in Chicago or elsewhere.

In the role of Christopher, said protagonist, is Terry Bell in his first Steppenwolf production. The key to Bell inhabiting the role of Christopher isn’t that he makes the boy’s Britishness real any more than that he realistically portrays autism. No, Bell’s performance is stunning in that he makes Christopher human. While tics and traits are given to the lad, it’s the vulnerability, intellect, and emotion that Bell gives Christopher that made him so real, so human. This was an actual person I saw up there, not a type or a trope or a character. Whether Christopher is doing math, navigating London, fighting with his father, or reading long-lost letters, he is a real boy, not just someone up on a stage.

The rest of the Steppenwolf cast take their duty of realism just as seriously. Cedric Mays plays Christopher’s father as a loving but over-extended parent doing his best to raise his boy. Rebecca Spence, as Christopher’s mother, is heartbreaking as the broken woman who finally felt she couldn’t.

One of my biggest concerns coming into the play was how the first-person narration of the novel would translate to the stage. Would the audience be submitted to one character’s constant exposition? How would Christopher’s story work? Well, thanks to the shining performance of Caroline Neff as Siobhan, Christopher’s schoolteacher, I needn’t have worried. Neff acts as narrator for much of the play, while also acting the part of a nurturing and knowledgeable caregiver for Christopher. If only all children, regardless of their disabilities or lack thereof, could have as loving and caring a teacher as the one Neff has created.

And, as the production has been tailored not just to standard audiences, but to those who share Christopher’s disabilities (and abilities!), with information on the novel and play’s background provided, with discussions led by the cast, and even with accommodating and accessible performances for anyone to enjoy, I can tell you that not only is this a caring play onstage, but beyond the stage, as well.

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time is being performed at Steppenwolf Theatre through October 27th. For more information, please visit www.steppenwolf.org.

Before the curtain rose for the start of the Oriental Theatre’s current traveling production of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, the sole image onstage was a giant silhouette of the character most associated with the beloved tale — a tale told in Roald Dahl’s original novel, in two Hollywood films, and of course now as a Broadway musical — Willy Wonka. Said character, having been famously portrayed by famous folks Johnny Depp and Gene Wilder, has not only long coopted this story of a young boy and a visit to a confectionary facility, but even its title in the Wilder movie. That being said, this tendency to focus on Willy Wonka detracts from what is Wonka’s magical Chocolate Factory and the oddballs and delights within.

So, when the curtain did rise and this particular production began, I was happy to see that it lovingly focuses on Wonka’s whole world. Don’t get me wrong — Noah Weisberg is just fine as Willy Wonka. I told my daughter at intermission that I thought he was perhaps too understated, as I’ve come to expect an overbearing Wonka. That changed a bit in the second act, as Weisberg reminded me a bit of some of Groucho Marx’s Rufus T. Firefly or Captain Spaulding, with his witty asides and exaggerated pacing and prancing. But overall Weisberg stayed out of the way and let the set and his castmates shine.

Henry Boshart is charming as the titular Charlie, providing that rare but happy balance in a child actor that is neither too precocious and polished, nor too amateur. I’d be curious to see how the other two Charlies in this traveling show do, but Boshart does a fine job. His chemistry with James Young’s cuddly yet curmudgeonly Grandpa Joe seems real, as does his connection with Weisberg’s Wonka.

The rest of the cast, however, are allotted the real fun. Jessica Cohen is a Russian Veruca Salt (her father a timely oligarch played by Nathaniel Hackmann), and puts her background as a ballerina to use as she pirouettes and pouts all over the stage. Also timely is Brynn Williams’ social media star, Violet Beauregarde, who’s afforded a dance number of her own. Daniel Quadrino’s Mike Teavee is a modern take on Dahl’s character — an ADHD kid fed a steady diet of screentime and pills from his harried mother. My favorite golden ticket winner was Matt Wood as gluttonous German youngster Augustus Gloop.

But it’s this production’s ensemble that push Augustus and the rest over the top, whether accompanying his polka in leiderhosen and beerhall maid outfits, breaking it down as Violet’s flygirls, or putting on a ballet clinic clad in furry squirrel outfits as bad nut Veruca meets her fate in the Wonka factory’s nut-sorting room. These unsung singers and dancers bring Wonka’s world to life, making it a shiny magical place just as much as the production’s set designers do.

And that set…my daughter, a bit of a set designer her own young self, was amazed at the ingenuity on display at the Oriental. The stacked bed and bedraggled shack where Charlie and the rest of the Bucket family lives. The gates to the chocolate factory. The TV world where Mike Teavee meets his fate. And the Oompa Loompas…

I won’t spoil it, but the portrayal of Wonka’s staff is modern, both in its consideration and its execution. Again, what a set and what an ensemble!

So, if you want a new take on an old favorite, a candy confection, a loving and overall satisfying take on the people and places who’ve done as much as chocolate bars to make Willy Wonka’s name, head to the Oriental Theatre for Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, now through October 21.

Lyric Opera of Chicago opened its 2018-19 season with Puccini’s beloved “La Boheme” last Saturday evening. Essential to any Puccini production, more than most other composers, is a faithful rendition of the specific intentions of the composer, whose theatrical instincts were equal to if not better than his musical gifts. This production succeeded musically, but utterly failed dramatically to bring out the humanity in this work that makes it so well loved.

Thankfully, Conductor Domingo Hindoyan, in his Lyric Opera debut, understands how Puccini goes. In his comments in the program, he states clearly that, “The word ‘freedom’ is relative, because it should be a sensation within a rigorous respect for the score”. If only opera administrators would hold stage directors to the same standard as the conductors. This production, shared with the Royal Opera House Covent Garden and Teatro Real Madrid, directed by Richard Jones, designed by Stewart Laing, with lighting design by Mimi Jordan Sherin, disappointed over and over again in so many ways, large and small.

It was a shame, since there was much to appreciate. The Lyric Opera Orchestra sounded marvelous under the idiomatic and nuanced baton of Maestro Hindoyan. His sensitive support of the singers brought out the treasures in the score, revealing the joie de vivre of the Bohemians, supplying tight crispness to the opening of Act Two, poignant desperation in Act Three, and ephemeral orchestral textures underlying Mimi’s last moments.

Zachary Nelson’s full and velvety baritone was unfailingly well projected. As the painter Marcello, he came very close to a sense of who the character was, but never expressed the depth of pain caused by his obsessive love of Musetta, or the tenderness of his friendship with Rodolfo. As the poet Rodolfo, tenor Michael Fabbiano’s brilliant and warm voice was expressive and a joy to hear. However, perhaps due to opening night jitters, or a lack of meaningful stage direction, his highest notes were tentative and the softer passages were weak. Maria Agresta looked the part of the fragile seamstress. Her piano singing in the Act One aria bloomed as beautifully as the flowers she described. Yet, later in the opera, her voice was less attractive, her vowels lost color and sounded flat, not in pitch, but as if she came from Italy via Wisconsin. The talented and charismatic Danielle de Niese tossed off the role of Musetta with aplomb, despite the directorial excesses imposed upon her. De Niese is a tremendously gifted comic actress; with a lesser artist, Musetta’s staging would have been a travesty. Ryan Center Artist Riccardo Jose Rivera possesses a fine lyric baritone voice, but seemed uncomfortable with the physicality of the role of Schaunard. He was allowed to wander aimlessly and flail about. The monkeying around at the end of Act Two with the on-stage band was absurd. Blame should fall on the director though, not on this promising singer. Bass Adrien Sâmpetrean’s lower range lacked the depth and color expected for Colline. His interpretation of the cynical philosopher also seemed somewhat shallow and ordinary. By hanging his beloved overcoat on a nail to sing his touching farewell aria, he separated himself from it, and the tenderness of the moment was lost. Well known for his finely crafted characterizations, Jake Gardner was the class act of the evening, in fine voice, finding humor, but never resorting to buffoonery in the dual roles of the landlord Benoit, and Musetta’s sugar-daddy, Alcindoro. However, he was not done any favors as Benoit by being staged facing directly up stage, forcing him to turn around to face the audience every time he had to sing. Similarly, as Alcindoro, Mr. Gardner was buried by Mr. Jones’ staging in a melee of waiters and patrons in the Café Momus, obscuring the ironic humor of the moment.

The costumes by Stewart Laing were quirkily adequate. His set was horrible. Act One did not resemble a quaint Parisian garret apartment, but rather a newly constructed barn in Dixon, Illinois. The lighting in Acts One, Two and Four, was stark and bleakly colorless, evocative of neither the time of year, time of day, nor the congenial poverty in which the four Bohemians lived, laughed, and loved. In the relentless intensity of the lighting, the singers’ faces were either washed out or hidden in shadows created by the barn rafters. In Act Two, the supertitles were nearly unreadable due to the glaring lighting. However, in Act Three, the lighting was so gloomy that it had the same obscuring effect on the singers. It didn’t matter much, though. There really wasn’t anything to see.

Good translations are a blessing, and the accurately natural supertitles by Kenneth Chalmers were truly excellent. However, these titles also served to highlight the director’s many mistakes, too numerous to detail in full. After Mimi’s fake looking faint, and even more fake looking recovery (she popped up like a jack-in-the-box), when she drops her key, Rodolfo says, “Buio pesto” (“it’s pitch dark”) in the glaring light. The lost key is picked up by Rodolfo who, instead of hiding it, shows it to Mimi and plays keep-away, although he later says, “Al buio non si trova” (“In the dark we won’t find it”). Huh? Standing in brilliant white light, he inexplicably tells her that soon there will be moonlight, and then they will have enough light to look for the key again. This touching scene in which Mimi and Rodolfo fall in love was diminished by this directorial sloppiness, but is unfailingly right when it is done the way Puccini intended.

The set changes in the pauses between acts with the curtain up were extremely awkward. If you are going to change the set before our eyes, it should provide a magical transition from one setting to another which enhances the pace of the drama. These bumbling and ponderous changes felt more like a first walk-through rehearsal in a warehouse where the sets were still under construction and the technical demands haven’t been entirely resolved.

The Act Two set, with a suddenly faithful representation of the beautiful covered passages in Paris, was attractive and could have worked, but it was so far down stage, it cramped everyone, soloists and chorus, into a nineteenth century mosh pit. The jolly chaos of Christmas Eve never settled down enough to be able to find the main characters among the crowd, and since there was no room for the children to cavort, they formed a formal chorus line. Consequently, their mother’s anger at their unruliness made no sense. Typical of directors who don’t trust the material or understand the music, the stage was filled with frenetic and meaningless carrying-on. Oh sure, that may be more true to life, but it was distracting. It might be forgiven, but when things needed to be real, they usually weren’t.

Segue in another awkward transition from the street scene to the interior of the Café Momus, full of distracting and upstaging patrons and waiters. When the audience can’t find the principal singers in this scene, something is rotten in Paris.

Enter Musetta. She sees her former lover Marcello at the adjoining table and, being bored with her current old and stuffy patron, decides to win Marcello back. This can be played a lot of ways, but sloppy drunk isn’t one of them. The famous waltz song is already sexy and provocative. Musetta definitely does not become sexier by making her drunk, and the goofy-happy-dance when singing “Felice mi fa” was like a scene from a sit-com. Throw in a few cheap tricks for laughs and shock value and the reunion of the two lovers, which normally is so warmly welcomed that the music is covered up for a page or so by applause, was a messy let-down.

The snow which fell almost all night long was pretty, but other than that, the Third Act was ugly. The tavern looked more like the guard house at the Barrièr d’Enfer, which must have been off stage, as it could not be seen. But the back of the garret/barn apartment was strangely visible, as were overhead lights which shined in the audience’s eyes, again making the production look as though it was still in rehearsal. Every touching moment in this act was sabotaged by the stage direction, such as when Mimi and Rodolfo agree they must break-up, but that they will wait for spring. Mimi sings, “Vorrei che eterno durasse il verno” (“I wish winter would last forever”) in a moment which is often more heart-rending than Mimi’s death in Act Four. Inexplicably, Mimi aimlessly walked away from Rodolfo while singing this. No matter, they were upstaged anyway by Musetta, pondering her next move after having been thrown out by Marcello.

Back in the barn - err - garret for the final act, it is supposed to be a bright sunny day outside, so the blazing light didn’t seem quite so out of place. Rodolfo and Marcello’s duet reminiscing about their lost loves was almost touching. The two sounded good together, and taking places at opposite sides of the barn underscored their feelings of loss and loneliness. For once, by not imposing his “concept”, Mr. Jones managed not to ruin a beautifully sung moment.

However, Mr. Jones couldn’t resist keeping his hands off that which followed. Puccini specifies a spoof of classical dancing and a mock sword fight among the four Bohemians. It is almost always hilariously funny, but if you have a better idea than the always entertaining dancing and mock sword fight, bring it on! Doodling undecipherable graffiti on the walls was not one. Similarly, swinging around on the stove pipe of a wood burning stove is never a good idea. If you’ve ever seen one, you’d know that the pipe would be likely to fall into pieces, you would be covered in soot and it might even be dangerously hot, especially if it had just contained a fire, as in Act I. Propping a pillow against the sharp corner of the stove to serve as Mimi’s deathbed in Act IV was the limit. Maybe the director was making some sort of statement. Who cares? Get a bed or a chaise up there so that Mimi and Rodolfo don’t have to flop and flail about on the floor like a couple of fish out of water. The scene was just plain ugly.

The heart of any opera is when the music tells the story more plainly than the words. This must never be ignored. At the moment when Rodolfo and Mimi are finally left alone together and the tender reprise of “O soave funciulla” swells to the sweet cadence, “Ah! tu sol comandi amor”, this director had the lovers on opposite sides of the stage and absolutely nothing was going on between them. Yes, most directors do it very traditionally, but that’s because it works, and Mimi and Rodolfo hold each other again, just as they did the night they first met.

Similarly, the exact moment when Mimi dies is clearly expressed in the music. Mr. Jones decided that this was completely unnecessary and then chose to ignore Puccini’s following directions. Schaunard was nowhere near Mimi to notice that she was dead, so how could he tell Marcello? Yet Rodolfo was seated on the stove right next to her head and didn’t notice. It is possible that there are people in the world that can’t handle the death of a friend, or of a friend’s lover, but when Rodolfo discovered that Mimi is dead, it is beyond imagination why Schaunard and Colline bolted out the room in terror.

There wasn’t a moist eye in the house.

Performances continue through October 20, 2018, and again January 10 through 25, 2019. Call the Lyric at 312.827.5600 or visit www.lyricopera.org for tickets, if you are curious about this strange production. But please don’t bring your friends who have never seen an opera before.

“A blink in time.” is a phrase repeatedly projected throughout Paula Vogel’s play ‘Indecent’ now running at Victory Gardens. The line could have many interpretations but perhaps it means that the nature of theatre is but a blink in time. Plays are ephemeral, especially where fickle Broadway audiences are concerned. “Indecent” was a critical darling in New York last year and marked the first time Pulitzer Prize winner Paula Vogel’s work had appeared on Broadway. Vogel’s ‘How I Learned to Drive’ was awarded the Pulitzer in the late 90s and is now considered a topical modern classic.

“Indecent” tells the true story story of the ill-fated 1923 Broadway premiere of Sholem Asch’s play ‘God of Vengeance’ —the first Broadway play to ever feature a homosexual kiss. As a result, the entire cast was jailed and deported on charges of obscenity. The play is a collaboration between director Rebecca Taichman (who originally conceived the idea) and Paula Vogel (whom she teamed up with to write the script). Unlike a typical Vogel play, “Indecent” features many musical numbers with instruments being played by the cast. Director Gary Griffin has kept much of the original staging for his production at Victory Gardens.

A hallmark of Vogel’s style is her use of structure and narrative. “Indecent” follows a similar pattern. Its genius is its show-within-a-show charm. The forth wall is often broken giving you the true feeling of being in a vaudeville theater. The small troupe of actors skillfully transitions between the various roles. Though all an all a tremendously talented cast, perhaps nobody stands out as much as Kiah Stern. Her character is the spirit of the play, the reason why in spite of the hardship this cast goes on. There’s something luminous in Stern’s performance. Catherine LeFrere consistently delivers the laughs as Halina.

“Indecent” touches on a lot in its short run time. There’s of course the intolerance of homosexuality and the prevailing antisemitism, but also a history of how theatre became a more established art form in the early 20th century. It’s because of plays like “God of Vengeance” and the like that the theatre has become a place where audiences attend in order to be challenged.

Anyone with a basic knowledge of world history knows that things weren’t looking good for European Jews by the mid-1930s. The tragedy of “Indecent” is that we know what happened to our troupe of actors when they were returned to the old country. One of the show’s most powerful moments is when the cast gives the final performance of “God of Vengeance” in the Lodz ghetto.

Vogel is great at non-traditional storytelling. The show is unlike any play or musical recently seen on Broadway. Its subject matter also holds a mirror up to Broadway. It asks who censorship protects and ultimately what we classify as entertainment. Director Gary Griffin’s highly anticipated regional premiere is worth the hype as this show will likely not be produced again to such high standards.

Through November 4th at Victory Gardens Theater. 2433 N Lincoln Ave. 773-871-3000

Has there ever been a more capable playwright to handle bestiality than Edward Albee? ‘The Goat, or Who is Sylvia?’ is probably Albee’s last great play after a decade-spanning career that garnered handfuls of Tonys and Pulitzers. ‘The Goat’ was shortlisted for the 2003 Pulitzer and the original Broadway production even included Sally Field. While the plot may be discouraging to some theater-goers, only Albee could heighten such an absurd subject matter to dark comedy and intellectual discourse.

Interrobang Theatre Project kicks off their ninth season; “identity/crisis” with ‘The Goat’. Under James Yost’s direction, this intimate production is sleek and faithful to Albee’s script. It’s notably challenging to bring anything truly original to an Albee play as he was known to be very strict regarding artistic interpretation. With a solid play like ‘The Goat’ there’s no need to reinvent the wheel, only to stage the best production of it you can.

Yost has assembled a great cast to tell this prickly tale. Tom Jansson plays Martin, the main character around which the play takes place. Martin and his wife Stevie (Elana Elyce) enjoy an idyllic upper middle-class lifestyle, a happy marriage and a lovely home. They’re open-minded about their son’s sexual orientation and even joke about how perfect their life together is. It’s when Martin confesses he’s having an affair that the play takes a turn. Martin jokes that his mistress is a goat, but we quickly learn it’s no joke at all.

This is not easy dialogue to make convincing. Albee even somewhat references that through Stevie. Knowing is one thing, believing is another. Elana Elyce delivers a powerhouse performance as the wife of a man copulating with a farm animal. Her final monolog grounds the absurdity of the plot in a devastating reality. Though, it’s the character of Martin that the play’s authenticity relies. Tom Jansson never loses the audience. His love for the goat he’s named Sylvia is abhorrent, but like Nabokov’s Humbert Humbert, we’re inclined to root for him in some way. Jansson’s performance is one an audience can trust and laugh with, even when they shouldn’t.

The synopsis of ‘The Goat’ may seem like some sort of circus attraction to be seen only for shock value. Albee’s genius is that he’s able to touch on several kinks and sexual proclivities and put up for debate why one is acceptable and the other is not. What is the difference between love and lust? Do we have a choice about what turns us on, or is it nature rather than nurture? Even in a post legal gay marriage American, some religious fundamentalists still liken homosexuality to bestiality or pedophilia. Perhaps there are some taboos that are just too far for acceptance. Albee’s ambition was to get us to examine ourselves and to start a dialogue. This play will surely do that.

Through October 6th at Ridendell Theatre. 5779 N Ridge Ave. 312-219-4140

Who doesn’t like magic? I love to be fooled just as much as the person next to me. Make me believe in supernatural powers and I’ll admire everything that’s dished out, even if some of it is a little loose and perhaps lacks a certain showmanship. Well, magician Brett Schneider accomplishes just that: he’ll blow your mind and make you believe in real magic; he’ll guess your innermost thoughts (or is it outermost thoughts, since he asks you to have them on the forefront of your mind)? I don’t know how that works, I was very impressed with his mentalist techniques. The only thing is: I can’t say that I was visually bedazzled, but then again, I need a real spectacle. Brett’s style is very down to earth, unassumingly casual, there’s really no eye candy of any kind, just a simple stage surrounded by the audience, which he boldly promises to unite in the name of magic. Everyone gets involved before the show even starts: you’ll be handed small pieces of paper and pencils and asked to write stuff down and then place them in a glass bowl. The audience is an active participant in most tricks, and everyone is delighted to oblige. It’s a great show in its own right.

Brett Schneider has been performing magic professionally for over 20 years. His work has received numerous awards; he’s also an actor who has worked with Steppenwolf, The Goodman, Lookingglass, Roundabout Theatre, Actors Theatre Louisville, and many others around the country.

A one-man show, Communion: An Evening of Magic is written and performed by Brett Schneider and directed by Elana Boulos. It plays September 13-22, 2018 at The Den Theatre’s Upstairs Main Stage; there’re only 6 performances currently scheduled. Tickets are available at thedentheatre.com. Recommended for ages 13 and up.

There’s something so effortlessly optimistic in the way the old meets the new in the charmingly vintage Chopin Theater. And it’s just the perfect fit for The House Theatre of Chicago that calls Chopin Theatre home. The House Theatre’s 17th season opens with a brand-new work written by guest artist Bennett Fisher and directed by Monty Cole, Borealis.

The main character of the play, a spunky thirteen-year-old girl named Cosbi (played by Tia Pinson) lives in an old rickety house with her brother Absalom, who works for an oil-mining corporation. Absalom’s part is played by The House Theatre’s veteran Desmond Grey, whose credits include The Nutcracker, Hatfield and McCoy, Death and Harry Houdini, as well as many others. When one day Absalom goes to work on the oil fields but then fails to come home, instead sending his sister a heavily redacted letter, worried Cosbi immediately sets off for Anwar, Alaska to find him. Armed with a sharp axe and a strong will to succeed, she makes her way through the jungles of the corporate world, encountering some hilariously bizarre corporate types (wearing cool outfits (design by Izumi Inaba) ) along the way. Some helpful employee at the corporation gives her a very important book on corporate communication strategy, and it proves indispensable. The vague language of the book works like magic, as no one is quite sure of what those words and phrases really mean, for as long as they sound authoritative enough. In Borealis a fairy-tale-like world is superimposed on the reality of Corporate America. Protocols need to be observed, the right pass will get you through the door, and coffee is the most important fuel. A highly coveted pastry (it sounded like a more complicated version of a cronut) can make or break your day. Corporate America never looked more fun.

The rest of the seven actors cast are Johnny Arena (Death and Harry Houdini, The Sparrow), Ben Hertel (Death and Harry Houdini, A Comedical Tragedy for Mister Punch, etc.), Paige Hoffman (Cave with Man, The Sparrow), MckKnzie Chinn (The House debut) and Karissa Murrel Myers (The House debut), some of them playing multiple parts. Scenic design by Eleanor Kahn deserves a special mention. A narrow catwalk-like stage is equipped with a wild mechanized contraption that is capable of unfolding, effectively turning itself into an extra stage, or simply used as a prop in a scene. Walls move and doors get spun around, creating an illusion of extra space and speed in the chase scene.

The House Theatre’s Borealis is being performed at Chopin Theatre through October 21st. For more information visit www.thehousetheatre.com.

Literary adaptation for the stage can be tricky. Even trickier is bringing the complex work of Dostoyevsky from the page to the stage. Shattered Globe opens its season with Chris Hannan’s 2013 version of ‘Crime and Punishment’. Under the direction of Louis Contey, this unique production is fresh and exciting.

As anyone who has read the lengthy novel by Fyoder Dostoyevsky can attest, this is not an easy work to muddle through. While not the most accessible novel, those who take on the challenge will surely be rewarded by richly drawn, and somewhat disturbing scenes that linger in the memory. Hannan’s script gets right to the point. Instead of long passages of internal monologue, his Raskolnikov (Drew Schad) has fever dream conversations with the people in his life. This device ensures a much more engaging presentation, though Schad is entirely capable of carrying the monologs on his own.

Between Hannan’s script and Contey’s vision, there’s a very artful quality to this production. Unlike the novel, the plot of this play is easy to follow. The ethical debates Raskolnikov has in his head are shortened and the scene work is very strong. The murdered pawnbroker is played by Daria Harper. In her scenes with Schad, she’s nearly diabolically evil. She represents the greedy reality of the world in which Raskolnikov lives. Conversely, Harper is perfectly double cast as doting mother Pulkheria Alexandrovna. Christina Gorman plays his sister Dunya with the same grace and elegance she consistently delivers in Shattered Globe productions. Rebecca Jordan brings to life one of the novel’s most unpleasant characters, the wife of a drunkard who’s killed by an unconcerned buggy driver. Watching her unravel throughout the play is unsettling and heartbreaking.

With a peak interest in true crime shows and podcasts, ‘Crime and Punishment’ is very timely. It asks its audience whether religious morality or utility should be the guiding compass in life. Hannan, like Dostoyevsky, seems to believe that an action should be judged by its usefulness rather than its means. What we have here is a play that works to convince its audience that we should be sympathetic to a cold-blooded murderer. And it works. By the end of the play you’re on the murderer’s side. Perhaps the next time you turn on 48 Hours, put yourself in the killer’s shoes rather than the victims. Would you see it differently? Does anyone have a right to murder?

Shattered Globe dispenses with all the clichés of literary adaption and serves up an emotionally powerful interpretation of ‘Crime & Punishment’. Great performances and non-traditional storytelling make this a definitive adaption. Those who were not fans of the novel in school may find that there’s more to this story for our times than we’d like to admit.

Through October 20 at Shattered Globe Theatre. Theatre Wit, 1229 W Belmont Ave, 773-975-8150