Print this page
Tuesday, 22 September 2026 16:29

STEP RIGHT UP AND RIDE THE CYCLONE (THE MUSICAL) AT METROPOLIS ARLINGTON HEIGHTS Featured

Written by
STEP RIGHT UP AND RIDE THE CYCLONE (THE MUSICAL) AT METROPOLIS ARLINGTON HEIGHTS Peyton Owen as Noel Gruber, Eric Amundson as Mischa Bachinski, Alex Merkel as Ocean O’Connell Rosenberg, Eldon Warner-Soriano as Ricky Potts, Amelia Tam as Jane Doe, and Rylee Michelle as Constance Blackwood. Photography by Jennifer Heim.

If anyone has ever told you to buckle up and enjoy the ride, they were talking about life—and even if they didn’t know it, they were talking about Ride the Cyclone, the musical.

When six teenagers die in a rollercoaster accident and end up in purgatory, each arguing their case to be reborn (in song form) to a fortune-telling machine, the audience is given the gift of seeing six individuals as they really are—no pretense, but maybe with some well-earned bells and whistles—as they unapologetically define themselves and fight to extend their too-short earthly lives.

Canadian composers and lyricists Jacob Richmond and Brooke Maxwell bring a carnival disaster and its afterlife to life in their 2009 Ride the Cyclone the musical, which first premiered at the Chicago Shakespeare Theatre in 2015. This Arlington Heights Metropolis Performing Arts Center production is directed by Lillian Castillo, one of the original Ride the Cyclone cast members from the 2015 Chicago Shakespeare Theatre production and on the world premier cast recording, bringing her unique insight to this long overdue 2026 production in the Chicago suburbs, with musical direction by Carolyn Brady.

Metropolis_RideTheCyclone_JenniferHeim_6.jpg

Front Row: Rylee Michelle as Constance Blackwood, Eldon Warner-Soriano as Ricky Potts, and Alex Merkel as Ocean O’Connell Rosenberg Back Row: Peyton Owen as Noel Gruber and Eric Amundson as Mischa Bachinski. Photography by Jennifer Heim.

Set in the remote town of Uranium City, Saskatchewan, Cyclone follows six members of the St. Cassian High School chamber choir as they ride the Cyclone rollercoaster (not to be confused with New York City’s Coney Island Cyclone built in 1927) and meet their demise when its sends them all plummeting to their deaths before they’d ever really gotten to experience life—or had they?

As the six choir kids wake in a purgatory ruled by the fortune-telling machine Karnak (played impressively by Dave Honigman, who looks and moves like an actual animatronic) they are told that one of them may be reborn to begin again the life that ended for them so swiftly—if, and only if, their fellow choir members unanimously vote for them to be reborn.

Thus begins the real ride, the wild, colorful journeys each teenager takes the audience on as they show us who they are, what they want, and what they each make of their life. And in doing so, they challenge the notion that a short life, or a quiet life, or a purely imaginative life, is not a life well lived.

Metropolis_RideTheCyclone_JenniferHeim_1.jpg

Dave Honigman as The Amazing Karnak. Photography by Jennifer Heim.

The overachieving Ocean (played delightfully annoyingly and with nuance by Alex Merkel, who straddles the line between a try-hard class president and an unlucky teenage girl struggling to make sense of her fate) sings about her accomplishments, intellect, and drive, brutally putting down her choirmates in the process. 

Others live out the inner life they always wished for on earth, like the only gay kid in town Noel dreaming to be a disease-riddled French prostitute in the 1930s (played with fabulous conviction by Peyton Owen), or the disabled boy Ricky (played charmingly by Eldon Warner-Soriano) sharing his inner reality where he rules a planet of hot humanoid cats.

Metropolis_RideTheCyclone_JenniferHeim_5.jpg

Eldon Warner-Soriano as Ricky Potts, Alex Merkel as Ocean O’Connell Rosenberg, Peyton Owen as Noel GruberPhotography by Jennifer Heim.

Misha, the Ukrainian transplant, played with the perfect of blend of teenage-boy posturing and vulnerability by Eric Amundson, first raps in hilariously obnoxious autotune before laying his heart bare expressing his love for his online girlfriend Talia. 

Constance, the naive pushover of the group, played with authenticity and sweetness by Diana Marilyn Alvarez, sings about the liberation she felt flying through the air to her death and reveals she may have actually been the most worldly and experienced of them all.

Like the Cyclone itself, it’s quite a ride.

Metropolis_RideTheCyclone_JenniferHeim_8.jpg

Amelia Tam as Jane Doe. Photography by Jennifer Heim.

It even has a spooky factor beyond its dark subject matter: the headless girl, Jane Doe. Losing her head in the accident, Jane’s body was unclaimed at the coroner, she has no memories of who she was, and she’s replaced her head with her doll’s head, giving her a vacant, black-eyed stiffness that makes her creepy but also pitiful.

Played hauntingly and heartbreakingly by Amelia Tam, Jane Doe’s movements and presence are hypnotizing, scary, and sad all at once. The only character who sings in an operatic soprano, Jane steals the show every time she’s featured, her “Ballad of Jane Doe” possibly being the strongest song in the musical, where she first laments then rages about her death and the tragedy of being anonymous even to herself.

As director Lillian Castillo describes in her director’s note, composer Jacob Richmond wrote this show in response to his sister’s tragic and unexpected death. When she passed and became an anonymous statistic in a news story, “her wholly singular and marvelous existence boiled down to a number—that was the jumping off point, restoring individuality to a group of people who died suddenly.”

Metropolis_RideTheCyclone_JenniferHeim_2.jpg

Center: Eldon Warner-Soriano as Ricky Potts, Back Left to Right: Peyton Owen as Noel Gruber, Rylee Michelle as Constance Blackwood, Amelia Tam as Jane Doe, Alex Merkel as Ocean O’Connell Rosenberg, and Eric Amundson as Mischa Bachinski. Photography by Jennifer Heim.

And while the subject matter is dark, the theme and message aren’t. There’s so much humor—both irreverent and whacky—love, and authenticity weaved into every line and note of this show. Ride the Cyclone encourages you to live your life to the fullest, whatever your wildly individual definition of that is.

Because life isn’t about how it ends—it’s about the ride.

Ride the Cyclone is playing at the Metropolis Performing Arts Center Main Stage through October 25, 2026. Tickets can be purchased at MetropolisMetropolis or by calling the box office at 847-577-2121.

Last modified on Tuesday, 22 September 2026 17:19
Anne Rakowiecki

Musical theatre geek. Cat enthusiast. Rock-n-roller. DePaul University graduate. St. Louisan/Chicagoan. All about that bass.