Displaying items by tag: Lauren Gunderson

“Is this what it’s like to have sisters?”

I know I personally fall into the category of Jane Austen fans who have been following adaptations and spinoffs of Pride and Prejudice for eons. What happened to the Bennett sisters after the famous events of the classic tale? Did Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy find happiness? How are Jane and Mr. Bingley finding their marriage, and did the younger sisters ever discover their own paths to true love? Playwright Lauren Gunderson provides her own take through her trilogy Christmas at Pemberly plays, and in collaboration with Margot Melcon, the third installment offers a window into how the lives of Kitty and Georgiana progress post the original story.

In Act 1, As Georgiana sinks into the couch and takes in the Bennetts with the quote above, you might find yourself smiling alongside her. If you’re like me, you may think back to Pride and Prejudice and remember how alone she once was. Now she too finds herself with the unconditional love of sisters, and for better or for worse, she is going to discover what it’s like when they meddle without a second thought.

Directed by Connie Canaday Howard, Georgiana and Kitty: Christmas at Pemberley takes place two years after Pride and Prejudice. We find ourselves at the Darcy residence on Christmas Eve as Georgiana Darcy (Olivia Finkelstein) prepares to welcome her suitor, Henry Gray (Peter Alfano), to the home. The catch? She isn’t alone. Not only are Mr. Darcy (Keenan Odenkirk) and Elizabeth (Paige Klopfenstein) home for the holidays, but so are each of the Bennett sisters – Lydia (Leela Watts), Jane (Charlotte Foster), Mary (Elexis Selmon), and of course, her best friend, Kitty (Ksa Curry). To top it off, Henry’s friend, Thomas O’Brien (Daniel Millhouse) is joining the festivities, and he is just as ready as the Bennetts to meddle in the couple’s affairs. As might be expected, nothing quite goes according to plan, and as much as Kitty tries to support her friend, Georgiana might just find that nothing is ever simple on the path to love.

Howard’s production is full of joy and charm. Costume Designer Aly Greaves Amidei immediately transports the audience back into 1815 through her designs. The Bennett sisters’ dresses are stunning and add bright color to the Darcy home that is fully decked out for Christmas. Scenic Designers Jacqueline and Richard Penrod, in collaboration with Original Music and Sound Designer Christopher Kriz, fully immerse the audience into the holiday story for the eyes and ears.

As to be expected with a Jane Austen adaptation, the play certainly has its plot points involving true love. Not only does Georgiana find her soul mate in Henry, but Kitty also finds her own happiness with Thomas.  Finkelstein and Alfano bring a sweet, shy energy to the courtship – creating a relationship that you are sure to find yourself rooting for and hoping will succeed. Kitty and Thomas have a different approach, but one that is just as fun to watch unfold. The couple find their way to each other through the choice to meddle on behalf of their friends, and Curry and Millhouse infuse the relationship with high-energy and a mischievous humor. If you are a Jane Austen fan who loves watching the classic relationships grow despite their obstacles, you will find that the play certainly offers that access point.

However, something that you might also find to be special about this story is that it does not solely focus on the couples. The central relationship is actually the friendship between Georgiana and Kitty – two characters who have very little development in the original Austen story.  Curry and Finkelstein bring these characters to life with such creativity and delight. Much of the story explores these two younger sisters finding their voices amongst the noise of their elder siblings, and seeing Georgiana and Kitty support each other over the course of that journey adds to the holiday spirit.

Full of charm and holiday delight, Georgiana and Kitty: Christmas at Pemberley is a joy from start to finish. If you are a long-time Jane Austen fan, this play certainly scratches the itch of those wanting to see the Bennett stories continue. If this is your first taste of the Austen world, there are still plenty of access points to make this a holiday story to remember.

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

Run Time: 2 hours and 15 minutes, with intermission

Georgiana and Kitty: Christmas at Pemberley runs through December 21, 2025 at the McAninch Arts Center – 425 Fawell Blvd. For tickets and information, see the Buffalo Theatre Ensemble website.

The true story behind Lauren Gunderson’s “The Book of Will” is compelling—the efforts of actors John Heminges (Jared Dennis) and Henry Condell (Ben Veatch), Shakespeare’s colleagues—to compile and publish a definitive collection of the Bard's works in the years soon after his death in 1616. This they did over the course of four years until it arrived in 1623, and Gunderson uses a comedic form to render the story and characters involved in the effort. 

Comedy keeps the story energized, staving off the dreariness of what might have been a docudrama. And the Promethean Theatre Ensemble cast directed by Beth Wolf delivers top notch performances. Brendan Hutt in the role of Richard Burbage, the actor who originated many of Shakespeare’s most famous roles, gives real Shakespearean heft to his performance. Hutt also plays William Jaggard, a publisher who produces the definitive First Folio (several after producing a less accurate version) with 36 of Shakespeare’s plays, 18 of them published for the first time. These included "The Tempest," "The Taming of the Shrew," "Macbeth" and "Julius Caesar," an unimaginable tragedy had these been lost.

Gunderson’s script opens with Heminges and Condell (and the audience) witnessing a performance of “Hamlet” so badly rendered as to lose the playwright’s intent. We see “To Be or Not To Be,” Hamlet’s famous soliloquy  (delivered by Jesús Barajas playing beautifully, stunningly wrong), the delivery even more butchered due to a distorted script, perhaps recorded from another actor’s faltering memory. It’s like watching as someone belts out a song all off key.

Galvanized by this horror, the two determined they would gather up all the most original copies of Shakespeare’s masterpieces and publish them in a book, before they were lost. Some of Shakespeare’s works were published while he was alive, but others were relegated to the haphazard storage of working theaters, marked up scripts found at playhouses even today. 

Jonathan Perkins

All this is factually true, as is so much of the play. That Gunderson often leans toward almost jarring contemporary vernacular and a comedic approach may make us question whether this can all be the real story, but indeed it is, in details large and small. Most of the cast performed multiple roles, for example Jonathan Perkins in the role of a compositor at the printer and three other characters. Perkins was arresting in the quality of his performance.

“Book of Will,” to my mind, is a flawed thing. While Gunderson has the greatest intention in celebrating Shakespeare, there is very little of his work delivered. The play is based on the reasonable presumption that the audience loves Shakespeare—who else would be drawn to the heroic tale of the publication of his works? But it doesn’t present enough of it to remind us why, to stir our emotions for a moment with the real art of the celebrated subject.

Brendan Hutt convincingly offers some solid Shakespearean delivery in the role of Richard Burbage, the actor who originated many of the playwright’s most famous roles, delivers promising and skillful recitations of bits of Shakespeare. But the snippets offered us by Gunderson are too brief, and not gripping. Even worse are a couple scenes where “quotable quotes” from Shakespeare are offered, sometimes in multiple languages to reinforce his universality—but it comes off as an artfully executed but nonetheless bad “tribute” to the playwright. 

One lost opportunity arises after Heminges’ wife Rebecca (Ann Sheridan Smith in an exceptional performance) passes away (I didn’t see that coming) at the beginning of Act II. Rebecca has been his rock during the four year effort to secure rights and overcome financial hurdles to publish the plays. Inconsolable, Heminges seeks solace in the theater, spending sleepless nights there reciting monologs from Shakespeare’s plays, he tells us. Could not the playwright have let Heminges deliver us even one of these, an apt monologue voiced with the passion of his grief?

In short, this is a play about people who love Shakespeare, but he isn’t tapped for what he might bring to the party. I thought James Lewis turned in a remarkable performance as Ben Johnson, Shakespeare’s rival and critic, who wrote a dedicatory poem for the First Folio. Lewis gave me the one moment I felt touched at the level of emotion that Shakespeare evokes in his works. This comes as the begrudging Ben Johnson delivers the opening lines of his dedicatory poem for the First Folio. 

Nevertheless, “The Book of Will” tells an important story of the epic accomplishment of two devotees of Shakespeare, and one well worth hearing and seeing. Even as the web lulls us into believing that all knowledge and information is permanently and universally accessible, in fact we are seeing in present days the disappearance of content  the “Book of Will” reminds us anew of the evanescence and fragility of the written word, and the commitment required to maintain and preserve it. "The Book of Will" runs through October 25, 2025 at The Den Theatre on Milwaukee Ave. in Chicago. 

Sometimes we can’t fully appreciate the giants who walk among us until we have the chance to view them and their achievements through hindsight. In the case of tennis great Billie Jean King, that process is being bolstered through the arts. Now playing at Chicago Shakespeare Theater (CST), a powerful and unabashedly joyful retrospective of King’s life portrays a woman initially driven simply by a thirst for winning. As the story about her grows and her life begins to take shape, winning remains a driving force, but fairness and equality soon join it to ultimately define the full scope of her destiny.

The first female athlete to receive the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the nation’s highest civilian award, and with enough Grand Slam tennis titles and Wimbledon victories to keep her emblazoned in the record books for centuries, she’s now an icon in the truest sense of the word. She’s also at that stage of life when one considers how they will be remembered. When approached about a project focusing on her life, King was open to a play. What surprised playwright Lauren Gunderson is that she was recruited to write Billie Jean, the theatrical sensation currently premiering at CST.

Although Gunderson may have been startled by her selection, the choice couldn’t have been more ideal. Not only is she the one most produced contemporary playwrights in the country, but her work is also very often women centered with the express intent of highlighting the contributions of the less seen and unseen. Most commonly too, her vantage point is usually historical. In this effort, she would be working with a living national treasure to present a truthful and moving account of the valleys as well as the mountains of a highly notable life. Her prodigious writing prowess along with Marc Bruni’s masterfully perceptive direction turn Billie Jean into a celebration of being who you are and staying true to one’s core convictions.

You see King at her most pure shortly after the play’s splashy adrenaline-stirring intro and a little firecracker lights up the stage in the form of Julia Antonelli as a young Billie Jean. As precocious intellectually as she soon proves to be athletically, the pre-pubescent tennis wonder is an observant keg of energy with plenty of questions and more than capable of making her own keen deductions about the world she lives in. Once she dips her toe into the sport of tennis, she’s hooked and hungers to get better so that she can win. Her drive to become the best at what she does makes her ceaselessly inquisitive. When she crosses paths with Althea Gibson, one of the first black women to push aside the color barrier in international tennis and the first to win a Grand Slam, the trailblazer shares nuggets of truth that will stay with the youngster for the rest of her life. Pearls like trusting yourself first and that despite hardships, obstacles and hurdles, “winners find a way”.

That phrase becomes a mantra, in addition to nuggets like “one ball at a time” and “pressure is a privilege”. They keep bubbling up whenever a setback threatens or doubt begins to loom in this very fast paced production that makes a NASCAR race look like a sad jalopy crawl around a beat-up track. Wilson Chin’s scenic design bubbles over with the green of a lush grass tennis court. Joined by David Bengali’s splendid projections and videos to enhance both intimacy and excitement, the show’s production components are nothing less than stunning.

Despite being a world celebrity and cultural exemplary for over half a century, there’s probably only a small percentage of the public who’re familiar with the fact Billie Jean King was once Billie Jean Moffitt. Married to Larry King in her early 20s, well before she achieved the fame she enjoys today, aspects of her private life are as fascinating as her career in tennis. Gunderson’s honest penetrating writing, coupled with Chilina Kennedy’s superb performance as King, exposes the heroic internal growth the tennis star experienced outside the limelight as well as in. It’s an aspect of her story that proves every relationship is supremely unique.  The two decades she spent with her former husband testify to how poignantly inscrutable so many marriages can be.  Through his portrayal, Dan Amboyer as Larry King brought a level of compassionate regard to his role that one rarely has a chance to witness on stage or screen. Those scenes depicting Billie Jean King the person give expression to the play’s heart. The ones that recall King’s advocacy unleash its fire.  

Outrage doesn’t always spur action.  It did for King. Incensed that as the top performing player in her sport, she was not being justly compensated because of her sex, initially drew her ire. That pique then turned her into a tireless proponent for pay equity in sports. The legitimacy of her cause took time to take root and withstood considerable opposition before it gained traction. It was the prelude to the historic battle of the sexes in 1973 when King defeated Bobby Riggs in three straight sets. The victory was enormous and brilliantly brought back to thrilling life in Billie Jean.

When King fell in love her wife, Ilana Kloss, she had to make a choice. She’d already defended the right of transgender athlete, Rene Richards, to play in professional women’s tennis. Realizing it was necessary to show up with the same kind of bravery for herself, she set a standard for how to achieve true self-actualization. That model continues to inspire legions today.  

In Billie Jean, a lot more aspiring winners are handed the blueprint for finding their way through the transformative power of the arts.

Billie Jean

Through August 10, 2025

Chicago Shakespeare Theater

Navy Pier

800 E. Grand

Chicago, IL  60611

https://www.chicagoshakes.com/

Highly Recommended

*This review is also featured on https://www.theatreinchicago.com/! 

Prolific, and routinely recognized as being one of the most produced playwrights in the country, Lauren Gunderson’s range is as impressive as the quality and popularity of her work.  Inspiration for her plays often springs from things she loves, with history and science at the top of the list.  They can also arise from sheer curiosity or when she notices a subject matter void.  I and You can be said to fall in both latter categories.  Now playing in Lake Forest’s Citadel Theatre, it burrows into the lives of people we don’t see enough on the theatrical stage, the young.  By centering on youth, she gives us an opportunity to better understand ourselves from a rarely observed perspective. 

In I and You, a genetic condition diagnosed at birth has Caroline (Amia Korman), now 17, homebound.  She used to be able to go to school, but the progression of her illness now has her doing remote learning exclusively.  With a wonderful wall of photographs and images covering its back wall, a not too frilly bedroom and her stuffed turtle make up her universe.  The only human contact she has is with her mother; someone we never see.  Understandably, she’s both surprised and alarmed when Anthony (Jay Westbrook) bursts into her room after a perfunctory knock on the door looking for help with a homework assignment.  Directed by Scott Shallenbarger, it’s a tense encounter.  Anthony’s Black, and there’s a tinge of racial fear detectable in the scene.  But through it we get a baseline on the character of these two young people; or at least on how they relate to other people.

Caroline’s prickly, defensive and sharp-tongued.  We soon detect too that she’s angry about not having a normal teenage life and psychologically weary of waking up to the possibility of imminent death every morning of her life.  Anthony’s just a regular pleasant teenager intent on getting an assignment done.  Sports, other interests and procrastination have put him behind the eight ball and, with the assignment due the next day, he’s a little anxious.  When he lets slip that he volunteered to team with Caroline on this project, he’s compelled to admit he did so because she was a topic of curiosity at their school, and he wanted to meet her.  Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass is the assignment and, despite being an avid B-baller, Anthony’s a big fan of Whitman’s poetry.  Beautiful and still groundbreaking 170 years after it was originally published, Whitman’s classic looms large over the entire play.  So much so you might find yourself checking your bookshelves for a copy when you get home to reacquaint yourself with the poet’s seminal genius.

Gunderson’s writing and Shallenbarger’s direction perfectly capture the almost exasperatingly rapid speed and quirky fluidity of teenage-ese.  Well matched in its fluency, Caroline and Anthony also happen to be very intelligent and willing, once trust is gained, to speak candidly to one another.  Something not easily done with someone who’s accustomed to closing herself off from a world that hasn’t given her much to believe in.  What Caroline doesn’t want is pity, especially in the form of reflexive or obligatory niceness.  It’s the reason she initially closes the door to kindness of any type from Anthony. 

Picking up cues from the way Anthony talks about his father, his love of jazz and his interaction with girls, she feels he has it all.  It’s a notion he quickly disabuses her of by revealing personal flaws and confessing to missteps he’s taken that bring balance to her perception of him.  Flashes of vulnerability that they both share lead to frank, thoroughly absorbing dialogues about death.  When she confesses her dream of being a photographer and travelling the world, and then demurs saying she knows it’s all fantasy, it's Anthony’s turn to bristle by demanding she “stare it down and don’t give up”.   Both young actors display a natural and refined intuition for their craft. The deeper their roles take them, the greater their appeal as they invest an uncanny honesty into their characters.  As they disclose more and more about themselves, barriers between them begin to quietly tumble.  Something that they both notice, resist, slowly accept and finally embrace. 

As with so many who share her craft, displaying the universal need for connection between people was a conscious goal of the playwright in I and You.  That the two characters be of different races or ethnic backgrounds was a casting condition for Gunderson in this play as well.  As the playwright has noted, it’s reflective of the real world and doing so created a silent but constant reminder of the arbitrary boundaries we create between ourselves.   As Caroline and Anthony gain deeper insights into each other, and as they explore together the wonders and possibilities Whitman’s words engender, the barriers separating them, including that of race, fade like a mist.  They quite unconsciously begin to focus on what they have in common.  An affection that only deep understanding arouses begins to germinate, preceding an ending that’s so startling it makes some people gasp. A shock that prods us to take stock of ourselves and the world we live in through a more illuminating and expansive light. 

Unobtrusive yet discreetly distinctive, David Solotke’s set design held insinuating touches that added notes of mystery to the play and Jodi Williams’ lighting during pivotal moments amplified its drama in hugely rewarding ways.  Paired with an exemplary story, very fine acting and discerning sure direction, Citadel’s production of I and You is a delight that can be savored long after the lights come up. 

I and You

Through March 23, 2025

Citadel Theatre

300 S. Waukegan Road

Lake Forest, IL  60045

https://www.citadeltheatre.org/

*You can also find this review featured on https://www.theatreinchicago.com/.

“It may be fiction but it’s not fake.” says French revolution-era playwright Olympa De Gouges to Charlotte Corday in a fictionalized meeting between the two in Lauren Gunderson’s play ‘The Revolutionists’. Rounding out the chance encounter are Haitian slave revolt activist Marianne Angell and Queen Marie Antoinette herself. If you find yourself only recognizing Marie Antoinette as a prominent female figure of the revolution, don’t worry, Strawdog’s production of ‘The Revolutionists’ will catch you up to speed in this delightful new comedy.

In the midst of the Reign of Terror, Olympe De Gouges (Kat McDonnell) is struggling to write a play that will leave a legacy. Her friend Marianne Angelle (Kamille Dawkins), needs a place to stay while her family returns to Haiti. A frantic pre-assassin Charlotte Corday (Izis Mollinedo) rushes into her studio to commission some final words before she goes to murder Marat. And then somehow, a lost and nearly condemned Marie Antoinette (Sarah Goeden) wanders in. The four women discuss each other’s ambitions, disappointments, joys and outrage as the French Revolution entered its darkest period.

Director Denise Yvette Serna’s modern vision for this show is very cool. The costumes by Leah Hummel are even cooler. Lauren Gunderson’s dialogue is also very contemporary for her fantasy meeting of these often-overlooked revolutionists. For a script about the condemned to the guillotine, this play is awfully funny. In many ways it’s shining a mirror up to our own world politics and asking us what has really changed. Those familiar with the French Revolution will be tickled by all the trivia thrown in.

The performances here are stellar. Kat McDonell leads this ample cast of Strawdog ensemble members. Her character is the narrative backbone of the play as she tries to write what she’s seeing. The real Olympe De Gouges delivered a powerful rebuttal to National Assembly on the forgotten women’s rights. Sarah Goeden’s somewhat satirical performance as Marie Antoinette is almost a Karen Walker-ish version of the mysterious queen. Most of the evening’s laughs come from her sympathetic but hopelessly entitled shtick. This cast’s secret weapon is Kamille Dawkins whose portrayal of freed abolitionist Marianne Angell is devesting by the end. The play is mostly a comedy, but Dawkins’ touching performance mines the depths of the Gunderson’s script and finds the true heart of the play.

As Sophia Coppola did in 2006, Gunderson’s play attempts to make the French Revolution seem modern or rather, more allegorical to our own times. She succeeds when the women from divergent paths find the common things between them: love, fear, motherhood, and motivations. The ways Gunderson weaves history with fantasy and structures it in such a way that you never want it to end is riveting. Another touch borrowed from Coppola’s cult classic 2006 film is the killer modern soundtrack chosen for this production. St Vincent’s ‘Paris is Burning’ is well placed and well appreciated. Strawdog seems comfortable in their new North Center space and this production of ‘The Revolutionsts’ is very confident. This will likely be a hot show as Gunderson was the most produced playwright in the country last year. If it’s a French Revolution era drawing room comedy you’re after, or even if it’s not, ‘The Revolutionists’ will surely spark your interest.

Through December 29 at Strawdog Theatre Company. 1802 W Berenice Ave. 773-644-1380

Some of us are born with a passion, a passion for music or art or math. In the case of First Folio’s Silent Sky, one woman gives up almost everything in her personal life because she senses furiously, in her heart, that HER passion is going to lead to a discovery that will help all of humankind. This special woman, Henrietta Swan Leavitt (1868–1921), turns out be absolutely correct. 

Like the popular film "Hidden Figures", the 2011 play Silent Sky by playwright Lauren Gunderson, now making it's Chicago Premiere, tells a very important real life example of how women have been making significant contributions to Science and the Arts against almost impossible odds due to sexism in the work place. Leavitt is wonderfully played with a great zesty and nerdy enthusiasm by Cassandra Bissell who adds just the right amount of seditious touch to the headstrong and very determined character. She is one of the women termed "computers" by their male employers who has been given the great "honor" of painstakingly cataloging all the stars in the sky captured on glass plates by a telescope. As a new employee, she is never allowed to operate the high-powered telescope or use privately her own ideas to validate her own discoveries while earning a whopping $.25 an hour. 

Leavitt is a proud, brilliant Radcliffe graduate. She jokes with her male supervisor Peter Shaw (keenly played by Wardell Julius Clark) that she and he are in fact "colleagues" that "Radcliffe is basically Harvard in skirts." As they fall in love with each other, he begins to soften on some of his more sexist behaviors including "borrowing" ideas from Leavitt to give to the professor (to whom she will never directly report) her discoveries by trying to claim them as his own. Leavitt is hired as one of Harvard astronomer Dr. Edward Charles Pickering's "computers" or, as they were referred to as "Pickering's Harem”.

Leavitt's work came at a time when we as earthlings had no idea where we were located in the Milky Way nor did we know how far away the billions of stars and galaxies made visible by the super powerful new telescope really are from our planet. Leavitt observes closely the luminosity of a class of stars known as Cepheid variables. Others had thought their flashes of light completely random, but through years of study and an epiphany provided by her musically inclined sister, Margaret (Haley Rice), who is composing a symphony in between giving birth to multiple children, Leavitt discovers that the stars are actually making sounds, a music of the stars. This eventually provided the ONLY key to measuring the distance between Earth and other galaxies. Creating the standard to measure the distance of stars from Earth, many male astronomers like Edwin Hubble greedily feasted on her published work to make names for themselves but poor Henrietta dies of cancer before one of them finally realizes she deserves to be nominated for, and win, the Nobel Prize - but the Nobel is not given posthumously and so she was never even nominated for it. 

Annie Cannon (Jeannie Affelder) and Willamina Fleming (Belinda Bremner) play her fellow "computers" with a lusty, strong intelligence. The three characters develop a genuine family, a sisterhood, believing in Henrietta and encouraging her to take her work home with her (the glass plates are not allowed to leave the observatory) even when she is forced to move home to Wisconsin to take care of her dying father. 

In the end, Henrietta gives up a promising offer of marriage to Shaw, the chance to have children of her own, and even her dream of traveling the world in order to complete her work. 

Although I thought the gray monotone set in the chapel at Mayslake Peabody Estate was awfully depressing and didn't change enough to give us the sense of her whole life passing through it's dull indistinguishable doors, we are finally rewarded with the lighting display and music at the end of the show thanks to John "Smooch" Medina's projections, combined with Michael McNamara's lights and Christopher Kriz's musical score. The entire effect was spectacular, almost as if we are finally able to see the universe through Henrietta's passionate, intelligent eyes.   

There really needs to be more biographical plays like this one written with respect and sympathy about women who have changed our place in the world for the better - forever. It is a terrible waste of human intelligence and a dirty shame that if you mention the name Henrietta Swan Leavitt to anyone girl child or even adult today that her life will ring no bells, her name strike no sense of recognition, gratefulness ignored for the contributions she made and the doors she broke down for female scientists to come. 

Touching, beautiful and inspiring.

I highly recommend this thoughtful, poetic and understanding production for showing that some women will give up everything for the love of their work and dedication to humanity. Remembering theses outstanding individuals inspires and empowers us all, male or female, to chase our dreams to the end. 

Superbly directed by Melanie Keller, Silent Sky is being performed at Mayslake Peabody Estate in Oakbrook through April 30th. For more information on this wonderful show or to purchase tickets, click here.