Displaying items by tag: theatre

Common sense dictates doing the right thing. On the surface, that seems obvious, but in August Wilson’s final play, Radio Golf, which premiered in 2005 and is receiving a timely and propulsive revival at Court Theatre, this is not at all clear. Though the characters are archetypal, and the situations contrived, it is precisely these extremes that cast the arguments of the play into sharp relief. What makes sense? No matter which side you choose in this examination of urban redevelopment, there is no outcome that benefits the residents of the Hill District or the protagonists of Wilson’s play, because no matter how far they have come, no matter what their ideals, it is 1997 and they are black and living in a racist America. Unfortunately, Wilson’s play has aged well—though broadly drawn, the events of the play are no less a reflection of American realities than they were two decades ago.

According to the program, director Ron OJ Parson has directed 25 productions of August Wilson’s plays. This is evident in his assured, lyrical work on this production. The characters are detailed, and the poetry of Wilson’s language emerges from the physical language of the blocking, so that the cracks in the sometimes conventional structure do not emerge until long after the final blackout. Though he allows Wilson’s humor to suffuse the evening, Parson has created a powerful and engrossing dialectic that offers much food for thought and few answers. Parson’s interpretation creates a sense of community and warm comradery among the characters, which accentuates the fact that the real threat lies beyond the action onstage. Given the surging poetry of Wilson’s script, it seems that this is the production that Wilson was writing to receive. Parson’s vision is complemented by a design team that is equally meticulous, setting the scene with unobtrusive but finely tuned details. Scenic designer Jack Magaw has created a grimy but well-appointed ground floor office for the Bedford Hills Development, Inc., jammed between neighboring buildings and accessed by a concrete stairwell. There are hints of the grandeur of the past in the tin ceiling and bay window, but the green-painted walls are stained, and the linoleum floor is more practical than elegant. Claire Chrzan lights most of the interior scenes in harsh, bright light, occasionally softened by practicals. She subtly shifts between moods and time, extending the magical realism to the windows of neighboring residences. Costume designer Rachel Anne Healy creates a period-perfect uniform for each character that allows each to evolve according to their fortunes, without veering into caricature. Sound designer Christopher M. LaPorte uses a funk-injected jazz score to set the tone, as well as contributing cool radio tracks and jarring sounds that invade the relative sanctuary of the office from the outside.

The cast of Radio Golf is uniformly excellent. As Harmond Wilks, the real estate developer hoping to bring back Pittsburgh’s Hill District while launching his bid to be mayor of both black and white citizens of the city, Allen Gilmore lends an Obama-esque, unruffled cool to his idealistic character, which gives way to almost petulant panic when he finds himself fighting for a future that seemed more secure than it turns out to be. As his golf-playing partner and newly-minted bank vice president Roosevelt Hicks, James Vincent Meredith is smoothly overbearing and casually abusive, while maintaining a boyish charm and ambition—he goes far enough in his self-serving tirades to draw derision but retains enough humanity to elicit sympathy. As Wilks’ wife, Mame Wilks, Ann Joseph is warm, no-nonsense and imperious; her attempt to open her husband’s eyes to the consequences of his choices for them both is heart-wrenching and powerful. Alfred H. Wilson plays Elder Joseph Barlow with a kinetic physicality that mirrors his scattershot philosophizing, rarely pausing as he reveals a strong gravitational center to his wandering thoughts. James T. Alfred brings comic timing and a self-aware physicality to the almost excessively forthright ex-con Sterling Johnson, who, while he has stopped punching everyone in the mouth to make himself feel good, still seems perfectly capable of doing so if he sees a need. As Wilks finds himself entangled in bonds that he thought had dissolved long ago, and Hicks finds himself presented with ways to turn his race into an asset, the battle lines are drawn, and it becomes clear that all the characters are casualties of a war that is being waged for profit by others, but there are promotions to be had if they join the winning side. As an ensemble, all the actors find the humor and good will in their characters, without allowing them to become bathetic or cartoonish. Though sometimes broadly drawn, each character finds his or her dignity in the sensitive and emotionally grounded portrayals onstage at Court.

Radio Golf alternates between laugh-out-loud (though at times decidedly un-PC) humor and incisive social commentary, spot-on examinations of familial and geographic loyalties and nearly stereotypical portraits of the members of a community and the different paths they take, and director Ron OJ Parsons and his expert cast, supported by a perfectly tuned design team, weave the tonal shifts into powerful, perfectly modulated quintet. On the surface, August Wilson’s final work may seem less haunting and lyrical than the previous plays of the ten-play Century Cycle that it completed, but this production belies that impression. Though some elements may seem facile, when the curtain comes down, one realizes that Wilson left behind a complex and uncompromising challenge for his audience. Wilson was an American who wrote about his country with awe, humor, rigor and compassion. In Radio Golf, he took on the issue of gentrification and redevelopment, and what happens when revitalization becomes disenfranchisement. In Court Theatre’s production, the play is an entertaining, empathetic and unyielding plea for doing the right thing, especially for those who wield the power to do so.

Radio Golf runs through September 30 at Court Theatre, 5535 S. Ellis Avenue, Chicago. Tickets, priced $50 - $74, are available at the Court Theatre Box Office, but calling (773)753-4472, or online at www.CourtTheatre.org.

I had asked to cover this play. “Monger: The Awakening of J.B. Benton” is Her Story Theatre’s fourth play in their “Chicago Sex Trafficking Cycle” series. It is an important topic that needs far more attention than it receives and playwright Mary Bonnett’s play helps in bringing this serious problem to the forefront. I did not expect to walk away with as much as an education on the subject as this play provides. The title does give some foreshadowing, but the journey from there is a dark one. The word “monger” is defined as “broker” or “dealer”. In this case, the monger’s deals involve people, specifically young, under-aged women.

I don’t give away storylines as a rule, and I will choose to remain true to that. Just know that the material is hard-hitting and does not hold back any punches. What I really want is for you to go see this play. This is not a light-hearted, Friday evening good time. This is something real. Most of the time, we look to escape reality. This brings you back. In this play that is inspired by true events in Chicago, Bonnett explores the underworld of sex-trafficking using composites of people she interviewed and uses actual posts that comes from online chats by actual participants in this vile, shadowy world in making up some of the story's dialogue.

There are three actors in this one-act play. The set is simple. The room is small. The music is sparse. The play is well-acted, directed and conceived. The script is powerful. These are the precise pieces needed for Director John Mossman to present this important story in the most perfect way.

I give Bonnett a lot of credit for tackling a topic like this. Too many people look the other way. Too many men play the “Bro Code” card when it comes to things like this. Covering for your buddy is something that is almost taught from father to son, another topic touched upon in the storyline. The idea of “Oh, he’s just being a guy” is pretty common and undermines the serious tragedy as sexual abuse towards women – in any way. And I know this problem is way more common than statistics would indicate.

Ira Amyx plays the role of J. B. Benton. I am not sure how much he is actually awakened in this story but there is some serious education thrust into his head. How he processes that information is up to him. Amyx does a great job and is very believable playing someone far less likeable than an ongoing crippling disease. The unpopular character is a challenging role and Amyx skillfully meets that challenge.

Joshua Zambrano plays his son Eddie and plays the role of the misfit kid really well. This was another tough role to play, but Zambrano finesses his way through it like a seasoned pro. Jamise Wright plays Ruth Edwards, a mother who was going through great emotional loss. She becomes the woman she portrays with an undeniable captured honesty.

The saddest part of the story is, unfortunately, based on actual events. It is uncomfortable to watch (you’ll know the scene), but really adds a sense of awareness and urgency to the table that is necessary in making Bonnett’s point. It’s a scene many need to see this for different reasons. This play should be seen everywhere. A provocative play such as this might prevent a lot of harm on a lot of people in the mindfulness it raises on sexual abuses. Young men need to learn respect for women. Young women need to learn respect for themselves. Sounds simple, right? Well, if it is…then why does this evil still exist?

After the performance, Mary Bonnett and Marian Hatcher of the Cook County Sheriff Human Trafficking Division addressed the audience. This punctuated the story’s reality. Hatcher is a survivor herself and shed some more light on the dark subject. I am not going to say anything else, other than…go see this influential play.

Haunting, educational and a story that will resonate with its audience and encourage action, I highly recommend “Monger”.

The world premiere “Monger: The Awakening of J.B. Benton” is being performed at Greenhouse Theater Center in Lincoln Park through September 30th. For tickets and/or more information visit www.HerStory.org.

“God’s will” is often invoked as a reason for suffering in Barbara Lebow’s 1984 A Shayna Maidel, now being revived in a powerfully acted and impressively designed production at Timeline Theatre. While this might provide comfort to those who suffer, it also provides cover for those who caused the suffering. This point is made in the play, but the focus is on what people do survive, not on the circumstances that compel them to have to fight for survival. Taking place in 1946, it is a powerful tribute to the resilience of those who lived through Hitler’s Final Solution. As one family realizes that their estrangement is based on more than just miles and struggles to once again become as whole as possible, their perspectives and memories go beyond the lists of the dead to show the personal impact of not only hate, but ignorance, both willful and not. As the Holocaust slips further into history, it is important to remind people of its toll on humanity, and how easy it was to stay on the sidelines, allowing “God’s will” to be done.

A Shayna Maidel begins the generation before the main events of the play, in a Polish village in 1876, where a child is being born in the midst of a Russian pogrom. Fires burn, screams fill the air, and horses’ hooves thunder. The baby, Mordechai, is born without a cry, but he survives. Flash forward to 1946, and Rose Weiss is roused from sleep by pounding on the door. It is her father, Mordechai Weiss, now a successful store manager in New York City, waking Rose with the news that her sister, Lusia, has survived the concentration camps and will be coming to stay with her in a few days. Rose, who has recently gotten a job and the apartment that she is being ordered to share, is not happy that she is being given no choice in the matter. She has no memory of Lusia and her mother, whom she and Mordechai left behind in Poland when they came to America when she was four. Though she feels guilty about being the sister who was able to grow up American, Rose is as American as Mordechai raised her to be. She was able to ride out the Depression without pain and, though she has forced herself to watch newsreels of Nazi atrocities, Mordechai has isolated her from news of the family and her sympathy is from a distance. Lusia’s arrival brings it home.

Emily Berman’s haunted Lusia captures the steely resolve that kept her from giving up and keeps her looking for her husband when the search seems hopeless. Her careful movements and speech conceal the accumulation of loss and suffering, as well as the seething fury, that she cannot leave behind. As her sister Rose, Bri Sudia embodies the more mundane struggles she faces—working and creating her own life and identity despite her father’s objections—she is radiant, powerful and compassionate, despite her ignorance of the world she escaped. Initially resentful of having to take in her lost sister, Rose becomes an ally and friend as the bonds of blood and memory emerge. As the patriarch Mordechai, Charles Stransky fully realizes the imperious anger that both daughters remember, and the pride that reveals his love for them, but also played a role in their estrangement, a fact that he forces himself to ignore. Carin Silkaitis plays Mama with a warmth and pragmatism that reflects the character’s own strength in facing hardships. Weaving through Lusia’s memories are her husband Duvid and her best friend Hanna. We see Alex Stein’s Duvid go from cocky teenager, to proud husband worried about protecting the future of his family while still retaining his brash charm. As Hanna, Sarah Wisterman is bubbly and gregarious, hopeful and defiant in the face Nazi atrocities.

Director Vanessa Stalling has assembled a perfect cast and understands the importance of remembering the events that tear apart the Weiss family in Lebow’s play, though some flashbacks prove problematic, lending an elegiac quality that deprives the play of its contemporary relevance. Still, the moments that provide a reason to remember are powerfully rendered—the comparison of lists of the lost, the litany of causes for Lusia’s abandonment in Poland, the hope that runs through the tragedy, not as a weak last gasp, but as a powerful choice. It is this hope that makes the production worth checking out, even though the script sometimes threatens to relegate the threats faced by the Weiss family to the past, rather than reminding us that they still exist. Stalling’s design team finds the balance between the visceral and the mundane. The note-perfect set by Collette Pollard and props by Hillarie M. Shockley, with their cheery colors and all the luxuries that a 1946 walk-up might contain, ensure that the realistic story stays connected to the real stories it represents. Costume designer Samantha C. Jones likewise accents the reality of the time, from the Rose’s middle-class chic, to Mama’s peasant vibrance, to Lusia’s evolving wardrobe, from drab Red Cross issued dress to the relative elegance of the flower prints that echo her sister’s own clothes. Lighting designer Rachel K. Levy shifts her palette between the warm glow of the apartment and memories of childhood to the harsh saturated colors that define the realities of oppression. Sound designer and composer Jeffrey Levin creates a rich aural tapestry, with music ranging from klezmer to period pop, the music of the present and memories, and the terrifying sounds of violent onslaught.

It is important that the world never forget the Holocaust. A Shayna Maidel brings its memory to life, but it does not go far enough in showing us why it is important, nor placing blame where it belongs. It becomes too easy to shift the blame to Mordechai, with his imperious pride, rather than a world that turned away. This has nothing to do with Vanessa Stalling’s meticulous and impassioned Timeline Theatre production, which is a devastating reminder of events that are growing distant enough that their lessons are being daily—and sometimes deliberately—forgotten. Emily Berman’s Lusia embodies the hope and strength required to survive crushing loss and abandonment, while Bri Sudia’s Rose shows the genuine value of empathy. As Mordechai, Charles Stransky finds the compassion behind his character’s overbearing demeanor, and the remainder of the ensemble show the tragedy of what was lost in the face of Nazi atrocities and the world’s wavering response. A Shayna Maidel, the play, misses opportunities to show the ongoing impact of ignoring ethnic cleansing and genocide—connections made, but not pursued. However, the members of Lebow’s fictional Weiss family and their journeys provide many indelible moments of recognition, recrimination, love and loss.

A Shayna Maidel runs through November 4 at Timeline Theatre Company, 615 W. Wellington, Chicago. Performances take place Wednesdays and Thursdays at 7:30 pm, Fridays at 8 pm, Saturdays at 4 pm and 8 pm, and Sundays at 2 pm. Tickets are available at timelinetheatre.com or by calling the box office at (773)281-8463 x 6.

*Extended through December 2nd

Plays like Flying Elephant Productions’ ‘Defacing Michael Jackson’ are exactly what the Chicago theatre scene is for. This innovative new play by Aurin Squire won the Lincoln Center Theatre one act contest in 2014 and makes its area debut at Stage 773. Before putting on your sequined glove, keep in mind that this play about Michael Jackson isn’t a biography of his troubled life, but rather an allegory about the parallels between the King of Pop and gentrification. Something about this work feels raw and maybe even slightly unfinished, but the sharp and unpredictable dialogue put words to ideas or feelings most of us would rather ignore.

Alexis J Roston directs this sparse production. Much like the children in the play, Flying Elephant Productions seems to be operating on a shoe-string budget. That’s just fine, because you can’t buy enthusiasm and this cast has plenty of that. Roston has made her career about creating more African American visibility in the Chicago theatre community, tapping her for this project seems like a no-brainer.

‘Defacing Michael Jackson’ is about a group of black kids in a poor suburb of Miami in 1984 who worship Michael Jackson. For Jackson fans, you’ll know this is right around the time ‘Thriller’ became the album of the century, making Jackson the biggest celebrity in the world. This was of course before all the extreme face work, skin tinting and misconduct allegations. By all accounts, Jackson was the most successful black person in the world and his fans admired him for being ‘self-made.’ Fan club organizers Frenchy (Jory Pender) and Obadiah (Christopher Taylor) attempt to create a mural for their idol until a new, white kid moves to town and wants to join their club. New kid Jack (Sam Martin) is also a huge Michael Jackson fan and with his father’s money is able to sweep in and help get the mural painted, meanwhile taking all the credit. As tensions run high between the kids, their socioeconomic circumstances, and the sordid life of the world’s greatest pop star, Squire makes his point that we as a society let this happen and at times even relished in the breakdown. Jackson’s image and music are an incredibly smart metaphor for the cultural misappropriation and subjugation that has gone on for centuries.

The action of the play stays mostly around 1984, but you’d have to live under a rock to not be familiar with the slow-moving car crash that was Michael Jackson’s life through the 90's and 00's. You’d also have to be clueless to be unaware of how bad inner-city life was in America during the early 90's. As the kids discuss how the mural faded over the years while they grew up, it churns up many well-composed observations about how we dispose of celebrities after taking everything we can from them. Much the way that society has discarded entire demographics once they are no longer useful.

‘Defacing Michael Jackson’ isn’t exactly an apology for Michael Jackson, but it is written for anyone who was ever a fan. It’s a story of impoverished children coming to terms with the near impossibility of breaking the cycle of poverty.

Through August 12 at Stage 773. 1225 W Belmont Ave. 773-327-5252.

When I first saw The Color Purple more than a decade ago, it was the touring company that, at the time, featured American Idol singer Fantasia Barrino. Ten years ago seems like such a simpler time – a time in which the show’s star power and striking sets were the draw, a time where the play’s message was of course crucial and necessary, as it was 30 years ago when the film was made, or a few years before that when Alice Walker published her Pulitzer-winning novel that formed the basis for the motion picture and the musical. But ten years on, the current touring production of The Color Purple is one stripped of all frills, and more needed, as it present its stripped-down and powerful message at a time when our world has changed so much, in both the voices trying to tear it down, as well as those calling for positive change.

The show is playing at Adler and Sullivan’s masterpiece, The Auditorium Theater, usually quite a place to see a show. But I’ll get my sole nitpick out of the way here, and it has to do with the size of said theater. With the stripped-down feel of this production, the Auditorium’s vastness swallowed the show’s sights and sounds at times – the bare-bones set feeling small on the huge stage, the music finding its way into far-off corners and crevices.

That being said, the benefit of the above complaint is that the show’s power – both from its story and this cast – is allowed to shine. When the audience isn’t focused on nifty set-pieces and faces once seen on the TV screen, the message and the messengers become the focus.

First, the messengers. The cast is wonderful. Adrianna Hicks leads the way as Celie, going from beaten and beaten-down to proud and powerful. As the character finds herself and her own self-worth, Hicks stands a little prouder and sings a little louder. The source of much of Celie’s woe, Mister, is played by Gavin Gregory, whose voice cuts through the Auditorium’s enormity, and who plays the reverse of Celie’s route – from dominant to defeated – every bit as well as Hicks’ onstage journey. Carla Stewart is saucy and sassy as juke-joint sensation Shug Avery. N’Jameh Camara is stunningly innocent as Celie’s long-lost sister Nettie. And J. Daughtry provides much-needed levity as Mister’s son Harpo. As Harpo’s wife Sofia, Carrie Compere steals the stage whenever she takes it, as a strong woman of color – in a time when women of any color dared not show strength – who had the audience rooting and roaring for her.

But The Color Purple’s message is what really grabbed the Auditorium’s audience – people who are today trapped in a world where injustice grows, the weakest and neediest are not only ignored but abused, and things only seem to grow darker by the day. It’s a message that change can happen, if the good speak out and act out. It’s a message that love can win. And it’s a message that this production of The Color Purple shouted out to the theater’s rafters, leaving the theatergoers on their feet.

The Color Purple is only here on a limited run through July 29th. For tickets and more show information visit www.broadwayinchicago.com. 

When Million Dollar Quartet hit Chicago, it was only scheduled for a month-long trial run at the Apollo Theatre. MDQ was the fascinating story about that historic night when Elvis Presley, Carl Perkins, Johnny Cash and Jerry Lee Lewis met together at Sun Records Studio, the place where they all got their start. They had some laughs and jammed the night away, never to reunite again. Well, we all know what happened. Million Dollar Quartet became a staple show in Chicago and ran for multiple years before finally closing its doors. The show’s writer and director, Floyd Mutrux, now takes us to the beginning when Elvis Presley met Sun Records owner Sam Phillips (Matt McKenzie) as we watch a musical career blossom like we have never seen before and will most likely never see again. The show, Heartbreak Hotel, could very well have a similar success than its predecessor, because it is packed with all the right ingredients to be another smash hit.

Performed at the Broadway Playhouse, Heartbreak Hotel gives us a glimpse to the future success of Presley, starting the show with a scene from the 68’ Comeback Special. Then we go back – to the beginning – where a young, shy Elvis (Eddie Clendening) sheepishly walks into Sun Records to record a song that he’d like to give his mother for her birthday. Prior to his visit we overhear Sam Phillips saying how if only there was a white young man who could capture the essence of the blues and make it his own – he’d become a sensation! Timing is everything. Not overly impressed with him, Phillips assistant asks Elvis what kind of music he likes to sing. Gospel – and thankfully, some blues. But Phillips sees potential after he hears him. After a few sessions of Elvis trying to get his sound at Phillips direction, it is during a break when Elvis and the studio musicians monkey with the blues tune “That’s Alright Mama” by speeding it up and adding a “rockabilly” sound to it, that heads turn, and it is realized they might just have a rising star on their hands.

The story takes off from that point as we see Elvis’ popularity take off, his record more in demand by radio listeners and a slew of sold out performances while touring, including his time with the Louisiana Hayride, a traveling show with several acts that included the likes of Johnny Cash, Johnny Mathis, Hank Williams and even Willie Nelson. Local disc jockey Dewey Phillips (played with precision by Colte Julian) can hardly keep up with the requests to play Elvis’ records. Elvis quickly outgrows Memphis. Of course, the smell of success attracts those who would like to take advantage of such. Enter Colonel Tom Parker (Jerry Kernion). Parker, a former carnival promoter, is as sleazy as they come, but he does have some big ideas and an endless supply of promotional gimmicks up his sleeve. Elvis, now too big for Sun Record’s distribution, is on the verge of being bought out by RCA – and Parker wants to manage him – for 50% of the profits. Well, Elvis does decide to go with Parker, and the rest is history as he becomes the most popular entertainer of all time.

Heartbreak Hotel mimics the style of Million Dollar Quartet in the way the songs are performed to be larger than life, capturing the excitement of the era. A highly animated, slap-happy stand-up bass player (Zach Lentino tearing it up as Bill Black), a twangy guitar with tasty fingerwork (Matt Codina as Scott Moore), big backing vocals and dancers, and, of course, a whole lot of Elvis make for plenty of electrifying action. Many numbers are co-performed by the song’s original artists, Geno Henderson very impressive in multiple roles of B.B. King, Jackie Wilson, Ike Turner and many others. By doing so, we admire, and appreciate, the origin of many songs and the artists that wrote them, and we marvel at Elvis’ creative vision to which he took those songs to a place unimagined at the time. The play hints that Sam Phillips coined the phrase “rockabilly” regarding the music of Elvis and the Blue Moon Boys, though his music traveled to places far beyond as his career matured.

Heartbreak Hotel is packed with early Elvis hits such as “Jailhouse Rock”, “Blue Suede Shoes”, “Don’t Be Cruel”, “All Shook Up”, but also contains other greats like Chuck Berry’s “Maybellene”, Little Richard’s “Tutti Frutti” and The Drifters “Money Honey”. Eddie Clendening does a really nice job in capturing the essence of Elvis from executing the moves we know so well to exuding the boyish charm and naivety the future King of Rock and Roll displayed in his younger days. The cast as a whole is well worth the wait and the band just as sensational, Zach Lentino the oft scene stealer with his happy-go-lucky bass antics. Other standouts include Katherine Lee Bourne in multiple roles, Erin Burniston as Elvis' girlfriend, Dixie Locke and Andrea Collier also in multiple roles.

Heartbreak Hotel is the extraordinary, energy-driven prequel of the highly successful Million Dollar Quartet, giving us not only a fun fact-filled history of the beginning of rock and roll, but also an exciting ride from beginning to end thanks to one power-packed musical performance after another. It is a show that can be enjoyed over and over again and is sure to stick around for a lengthy run. Clap along, laugh and enjoy what is sure to be Chicago’s next big show. This show is not just a must see for Elvis fans, but for all rock and roll fans alike.

Highly recommended.

Heartbreak Hotel is currently being performed at Broadway Playhouse. For tickets and/or more show information, visit www.BroadwayInChicago.com.

"Like a cat on a hot tin roof” in English. UK old-fashioned “like a cat on hot bricks”. The phrase is used to describe someone who is in a state of EXTREME nervous worry.

Think about the above definition of the saying "cat on a hot tin roof". It really is descriptive of a type of animal cruelty to watch a cat struggling while its tender feet burn on a metal roof heated in the hot sun of the South. It is really quite extraordinary, the fact that gay playwright Tennessee Williams used this analogy so long ago to describe his character "Maggie the Cat's" precarious position in life having been born without money and being forced to kiss up to her husband, and her father in law, day and night due to their sexist selfishness. 

In Williams personal favorite piece of work, “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof” focuses on a wealthy Southern family as the story goes behind closed doors to expose their deceptions, insatiability, sexual wants and superficiality. The 1958 film of the same name starring Elizabeth Taylor, Paul Newman, Burl Ives and Madeleine Sherwood, quickly made William’s tale of dysfunctional familyhood one of his most popular, and one that has made waves on the stage ever since its premier date on March 24th, 1955. Drury Lane Theatre is the latest to mount this classic work and they do it just right. I thoroughly enjoyed this lavish and forward-thinking production from start to finish.
 
Director Marcia Milgrom Dodge does a fantastic job reviving this widely known, classic Tennessee Williams play so that it resonates with modern audiences on many levels. 

In the past, set in 1955 Mississippi, interpretations of the play seem to concentrate on whether or not Brick, the handsome but deeply depressed, alcoholic and unemployed ex-football star is a homosexual because his best friend killed himself over accusations that he might be "in love" with Brick.  

This energetic, fast moving production with the bright breezy, less tormented, "Maggie The Cat" played by Genevieve Angelson with a great sense of humor and normalcy, shows that the REAL issue here is that all of the women characters are equally devalued and left financially dependent in the most worrisome way. See the above definition of the saying " cat on a hot tin roof" whereas a woman such as Maggie is put into such a compromised position by the men in their lives whether it be their husbands, or, in this case, their father in law Big Daddy, played with real menace and ferocity by Chicago actor Matt Decaro. 

Big Mama, Big Daddy’s wife is played by Cindy Gold. Gold does a magnificent job of showing the audience that her character has been demeaned over the years by the completely selfish, ego-maniacal Big Daddy, who refuses to allow his wife of forty years one iota of control over their money, plantation (land) or life choices, even when faced with the prognosis that he has incurable cancer. 

Anthony Bowden has much of the sexy, languid appeal needed for the role of Big Daddy's favorite son, Brick, one who can do no wrong yet sometimes comes off as too young to really convey the desperate nature of his position in life, having no money, no heir and no job prospects. 

I really liked that Angelson’s portrayal of "Maggie the Cat" is played to show that Maggie the cat is NOT evil just because she does not want to have a brood of children like her sister in law with her "five screaming brats with no necks". Nor is her "Maggie" a raging nymphomaniac just because she keeps urging the husband she loves, Brick, to let go of his morbid preoccupation with his friend’s death and make love to her again.  

A wonderful scene which I had not really noticed before occurs between Big Daddy and Brick wherein Big Daddy tries to tell Brick that even if Brick did have relations with his best friend, it doesn't mean he is gay (as if that will comfort him) and Brick finally makes it clear that he is not angry with Maggie so much as he is with himself.

The real reason for Brick's depression and withdrawal from life is that when his friend called him in distress, obviously suicidal over the fact that Maggie called him out on whether or not he was "in love" with Brick or not, Brick does the unthinkable and hangs up on his best friend - just hangs up the phone without a word. Brick feels that his final cold betrayal of his friend’s urgent plea for understanding that day was what prompted his best friend’s suicide - and he may just be right. 

I highly recommend this production for those who enjoy the beautiful, ageless Pulitzer Prize winning writing of Tennessee Williams and for the well thought out performances of many of Chicago's great character actors and actresses. 

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof is currently being performed at Drury Lane Theatre in Oakbrook through August 26th and carries with it as much heat as Chicago’s 90-plus degree summer days. Full of engaging exchanges, powerful performances and a brilliantly designed set of a dilapidated plantation mansion interior that subtly predicts its occupants impending doom, this play entertains from Maggie’s opening monologue to its very end. For more show information, visit www.drurylanetheatre.org.

“Victims of Duty” starts with Madeleine (Karen Aldridge) sitting aside a clawfoot tub where she knits silently as her husband, Choubert (Guy Van Swearingen), reads the newspaper from his chair. Breaking the silence, she finally asks if there is anything knew in the news. There is not. Same old, same old. Their conversation centers on the humdrum of society. We sense a strong boredom between the two. Madeline enjoys the theatre, but Choubert points out how mysteries are so predictable – crime, detective (Michael Shannon), solved. It is then a knock is heard at their neighbor’s door. The two make little of it. Not much longer, the knock is heard at their own door. Enter the detective. This excites Madeline. She asks him to come in, but at first he says he can’t stay. He’s running late, he shows them his watch. He then comes in. He just has a few questions to ask them. When the two are asked about a missing neighbor, “Mallot with a ‘t’ at the end”, the mundane quickly turns into an introspective journey filled with twists and turns (literally) Choubert and Madeline will never forget.

Written in 1953, French-Romanian playwright Eugene lonesco taps into his own psyche in what is considered his most biographical piece. Choubert’s voyage includes real-life experiences of lonesco such as his tumultuous relationship with his father and a memory where he holds his mother’s hand along the Rue Blomet just after the bombing. “Murder for Two” is as penetrating as it is suspenseful as Choubert is forced to face his deepest fears. Michael Shannon as the detective or “Chief Inspector” is as powerful as they come as he guides Choubert through every step into his subconscious. He plays his character with ferocity and yet with a vulnerability that we can easily relate to as viewers, and to see the passion that Shannon so often exudes on the big screen in such an intimate setting is almost overwhelming. Karen Aldridge also puts forth a powerhouse performance as Madeline and does so by going through a gamut of emotions without skipping a beat. Rounding out the main trio is Guy Van Swearingen as Choubert who not only impresses with finessed acting ability but adds plenty of meat to the role with a strong physical performance, most of which is done while soaking wet. Richard Cotovsky (Mary-Archie Theatre fame) also makes a splash (again, literally) as French poet Nicholas D’eu.

Astutely directed by Shira Piven, takes this one-act play and runs with it showing provocative imagery at just the right moments to add to the show’s intensity. With an artistic team of Danila Korogodsky (Production Designer), Mike Durst (Lighting Designer) and Brando Triantafilou (Sound Designer), all the right touches are in place to make this a truly unique theatre experience. And smartly so, Artistic Director Kirsten Fitzgerald brings back Shannon and Swearingen who reprise the same roles they undertook in 1995 when the play first hit A Red Orchid Theatre. To round out the list of returnees, Piven also directed the play’s first run while Korogodsky was on hand as Production Designer.

“'Victims of Duty’ was the very first show I ever saw at A Red Orchid,” says Fitzgerald. “I am not entirely sure lonesco’s investigation of life made logical sense to me at the time, but it made perfect emotional sense and was viscerally stunning. So much so, that I knew I needed to work with these people in this space. That was 1996. With many of the originals returning, the investigation promises to go even deeper.”

Outside of memorable performances and its unusual setting, what makes this play so engaging is how much is left to the audience’s interpretation. Undoubtably, there are several certain moments that will relate heavily with many. There are several questions posed in the concentrated 90 minutes. Are we the victims of duty? Is it because of our place in the system that our actions should be forgiven to those we affected negatively? For instance, as Choubert speaks with his father – a former soldier - whom he has been so filled with anger for so many years, perhaps realizing that the chain reaction set off by his father’s “duty” must be recognized as the source of certain intrinsic behaviors that could not be helped rather than taking all actions at such a personal level. Maybe he should forgive his father. Maybe we should all have a deeper understanding of those around us and realize how being in such a system, whether the role that had to be taken on, has affected those they love.

Highly recommended.

“Victims of Duty” is being performed at A Red Orchid Theatre through August 5th. For tickets and/or more information visit www.aredorchidtheatre.org.

When we think of traditional whodunits, we think of a carefully plotted murder, a list of suspects, and an inquisitive detective who gradually pieces new clues together until the crime is solved. Marriott Theatre’s “Murder for Two” is just that, albeit a musical-comedy that stars just two actors taking on 13 roles. How is that done exactly? With a lot of precision, spot on timing and with a special actor named Jason Grimm who bravely takes on the roles the twelve party goers (all suspects) as well as the victim.

When a surprise birthday party goes bad and Great American Novelist Arthur Whitney is murdered, small town cop Marcus Moscowicz decides to use his sleuthing skills to find the killer since the nearest detective is an hour away. Everyone in attendance of Whitney’s birthday party are suspects including Arthur’s wife, Dahlia, who relishes in the thought of being a “murderess”, prima ballerina, Barrette Lewis, renowned psychiatrist, Dr. Griff, Whitney’s niece, Stef, who is studying criminology in college, an elderly couple that bickers every chance they get and a handful of other interesting characters. Moscowicz wants badly to make detective and the clock is ticking, giving him less than an hour to solve the crime before he must turn the case over.

Noel Carey stars as Marcus and does a bang-up job as the eager detective-wannabe, perfectly complimenting Grimm as he goes from suspect to suspect – and back again. Both Carey and Grimm take turns playing the piano whether it be for a musical number or just ambience music.

Directed by Jeff Award Winner Scott Weinstein, “Murder for Two” is a fast-moving, suspenseful ride that offers big laughs in rapid-fire succession.

“This production provides a fantastic evening of murder mystery, zany comedy, and true virtuoso performances. There are only two performers that take on 13 roles throughout the entire 90 minutes, “says Weinstein. “They not only remain on the stage for the entire show, but one or both of them are also playing the piano throughout. Whether you are a fan of comedy, mystery, or anything in between, this production will have you begging for more.”

Weinstein couldn’t be more correct. Grimm’s ability to go from personality to personality without pause is nothing less than astonishing. The script is rich with humor and holds the perfect amount of suspense. The set's impressive revolving stage keeps all the action moving - literally.

“It is 90 minutes of nothing but silly,” Grimm says. “One character accidentally incriminates himself. One character, for attention, loves the idea that she is a suspect and basks in it.”

Joe Kinosian and Kellen Blair are the writers behind this exciting comedy and Carey and Grimm couldn’t be better cast (Carey has starred as Marcus in the musical’s national tour).

Highly recommended.

“Murder for Two is being performed at Marriott Theatre in Lincolnshire through August 26th. For tickets and/or more information visit www.MarriottTheatre.com.

Margaret and I have had to wait nearly thirty years to enjoy another production of Emerich Kalman’s “Die Csardasfurstin”, often translated as “The Csardas Princess” or “The Gypsy Princess”, and Folks Operetta’s production running at Stage 773 through July 22 was well worth the wait. The Csardas, or Czardas, is a Romani gypsy dance which starts out slowly and builds to a wild, exciting finish. The plot is by no means original – it’s the classic story of the rich young industrialist, Edwin Weylersheim, falling for the low-born and “cheap” cabaret singer, Sylva Varescu, who is socially unacceptable to Edwin’s upper class family. Generally accepted as the finest of Kalman’s compositions and the most popular operetta in European houses, “The Csardas Princess” inexplicably has been overlooked in the United States in favor of the vastly overdone, yet not in the least superior “Fledermaus” and “Merry Widow”. Not to disparage two lovely operettas, but after having seen or performed in dozens of Fledermice and done an equal number of Widows, we have no need to ever see either again. Many thanks to Folks Operetta for bringing this delightful gem to Chicago in an enthusiastic performance.

Written in 1915 at the inception of The Great War, “The Csardas Princess” presages the racial and class distinctions, political upheaval, and economic disaster which would wrack Europe for the next half century. The subtle reference to the strife that was soon to envelope the world gives it an edge completely lacking in other popular operettas. After all, Varescu is a Romani gypsy name and the Csardas is a Magyar song form. This would have been blatantly obvious to a Viennesse audience in 1915, and both ethnic groups soon would become victims of Hitler’s racial cleansing. With a thoroughly competent new translation by Artistic Director Gerald Frantzen, some of the original period references were diminished, but were replaced by subtle references to our current social and political state of affairs which made “The Csardas Princess” unusually relevant to the 21st Century audience.

“Csardas Princess” was charmingly and crisply staged by Gerald Frantzen, in a way that made complete sense of a typically convoluted plot. The only rather odd staging devices were an opening unaccompanied “prequel” featuring the three principal characters as children. Although well performed by the silvery voiced Clara Frantzen as Sylva, Kaden Krumrei as Edwin, and Emily Churchouse as Edwin’s cousin Stasi, the implication that Edwin and Sylva knew each other from childhood blurred racial and class distinctions, diminishing the essential dramatic conflict later on.  The other device introduced Sylva Varescu, the Csardas Princess and star of the Orpheum Theater in Budapest, along with her supporting glamorous chorus girls, as mere working girls in a factory. That would work, if one was intentionally trying to make a socialist statement about downtrodden workers vs. aristocratic factory owners. In that case there needs to be some kind of conflict between the workers and management. There wasn’t. Instead, there was a chorus of very attractive women dressed in shapeless industrial smocks making the scene seem like a rather staid and Puritanical cross between the urchins from “Annie” and the cigarette girls from “Carmen”.  Most importantly, it prevented the audience from understanding the star power of the glamorous diva Sylva and the source of Edwin’s extreme infatuation with her. Once the smocks came off however, they revealed pleasingly attractive and flattering period costumes by Patti Roeder.

The Thrust space in Stage 773 is by no means an ideal venue for a fully staged opera with orchestra, but Folks Operetta dealt with the limitations with aplomb. Stage 773 is essentially a black box space with no orchestra pit to provide balance between orchestra and singers, and without blocking sight lines for the audience. Folks Operetta solved the problem by positioning the orchestra upstage of the scenery with a video monitor in the house for the singers to see Conductor Mark A. Taylor. This was a daring and risky decision, but Mr. Taylor is an extremely talented and stylistically sensitive conductor who never once allowed the excellent 19 piece orchestra to overwhelm the singers, while maintaining an exquisitely tight ensemble without any direct contact with the stage. We don’t know if credit is due to Mr. Taylor for the impeccable diction of every single singer, but they understood that good diction is a product of good vowel production and not the over-pronunciation of consonants. Not a single word was missed. Kudos to Folks Operetta, as well, for allowing us the luxury of Harp player Lillian Reasnor. The “harp” stop on a synthesizer could never have replaced her.

Katherine Petersen provided a lovely presence and well produced lyric soprano to the role of Sylva Varescu, usually sung by a fuller spinto soprano. Her self-assured honesty and directness, her sympathetic vulnerability won our hearts. However, as the famous diva, she seemed a bit reserved and lacked the effusively glamorous “star power” which the Csardas Princess of the Orpheum would require.

Jonathan Zeng was an elegant and dashing Edwin Weylersheim. Handsome and slim, he was the perfect picture of a young lover. His reliable tenor voice handled the role with ease. Kalman was not always kind to his singers, and the first duet for Sylva and Edwin lies in a particularly difficult tessitura, which Mr. Zeng and Ms. Petersen negotiated successfully. We have followed Mr. Zeng since he was a student at Western Illinois State University. He has talent, but seemed to hold something back, both vocally and personally.  We think that he may have projected more personal and vocal warmth, tenderness, and passion if he had been allowed to play Edwin as real nobility, instead of as just the son of a wealthy industrialist.

Emma Sorenson, as Edwin’s cousin Stasi, was a revelation. If you can imagine Gina Davis with the voice of Kiri Te Kanawa, you would have an approximation of the impact of Ms. Sorenson. Her tall, slim beauty and warm open presence fills the stage. Her portrayal of Stasi, which often comes across as somewhat bitter and bitchy, was full of wittily impish fun and empathy. We plan to keep an eye on Ms. Sorenson.

Every operetta depends upon an indispensable ensemble of comprimario, or character roles to provide plot twists and conflict, as well as providing expository information to move things along. This “Csardas Princess” benefited tremendously from their contributions. William Roberts brought a luxuriously ample, warm voice and expansive charm to the role of Boni, the bon vivant who acts as Sylva’s manager and accomplice in the Act II ruse to crash Edwin’s engagement party to Stasi. His portrayal was reminiscent of P.D. Wodehouse’s Wooster, albeit on a big-house operatic scale. It was a blessing to hear Bill Chamberlain as Boni’s partner in crime, Feri. His seasoned professional voice, touching humanity, and wry humor were the perfect foil for Mr. Roberts’ bloviating and provided a centering influence for the production. And as Edwin’s mother, Anni Weylersheim, Rosalind Hurwitz’ sparkling wit and energy demonstrated that it is not only the young who enjoy romance. They were joined by a youthful but talented chorus of eight very talented young performers who constantly projected enthusiasm for both the production and the music. We haven’t seen a group of singers collectively have so much fun in years.

“Csardas Princess” continues its run at Stage 773 on West Belmont St. through July 22. Future plans for Folks Operetta include a “Reclaimed Voices” series featuring the works of composers who have been long overlooked, primarily because of the political and racial climate which enveloped Europe in the 20th Century. We look forward to this ambitious series.  

The OperaSwains, Bill and Margaret