Displaying items by tag: LGBTQIA

If all the world’s a stage and we are all merely players, then we must be prepared when we are thrust into the spotlight. Not everyone will be ready. Some of us might freeze or forget our lines or simply wave the spotlight on, forgoing the opportunity to perform, content with playing in the shadows or the wings. Others, however, crave the attention and demand to be center stage, presumably because they have something to say. Whether or not you signed up to be in the play or part of the production, it’s essential to be prepared, to know what you would say or do when given a stage. This past weekend, I witnessed just such an opportunity during a performance of Off-Nights at the Sometimes Café. The stage was set, the players cast, and an attentive audience seated. The trouble was, when the spotlight was on, nothing was said.

Off-Nights at the Sometimes Café is billed as a campy parody of a noir mystery, following a cafe pianist in lieu of a detective. As the pianist/narrator plays his way through the show, he guides the audience through the tangled web of attraction, seduction, and general silliness that occurs when a bunch of attractive queer people end up in the same place.

On its surface, Dave Walther’s Off-Nights at the Sometimes Café aims to be a delightful, poignantly unserious celebration of queer joy and desire, and a heartwarming portrayal of how to find a chosen family— warts and all. But that message, along with the representation it aims to spotlight, is completely lost in a story lacking in formula, pace, or purpose. There is no particular plot with a beginning, middle, and an end. There’s no catalytic event or climax. It’s more of a drawn-out setting of a café scene, focusing on the introduction of six characters that takes over one hour of the play’s seventy-five-minute run time to fully explain. There is no protagonist – or spoken scenes for that matter -- save for the curmudgeonly monotonous narrator who tells the story in the same sad minor keys the musical numbers are played in. The only time the characters speak is through song. While the players have exceptional voices, the choice of opera as a medium is an interesting one. The operatic numbers all focus on love (both absent and unrequited), but they don’t particularly move the story forward or really accentuate or explain the characters’ motivations or sentiments. Save for a few witty one-liners and repetitive drag numbers, there isn’t much depth or substance to this story, so it begs the question: Why was this put on?

Off-Nights at the Sometimes Café is simply doing too much for a message of love, acceptance, and community to shine through. At least that is what I took away from the production. It’s neither an homage to film noir nor a parody. It’s lacking in elements such as a femme fatale, lover’s quarrels, a whodunnit with high-contrast lighting, nonsensical voice narration, hyperbolic metaphors, or, said succinctly, a storyline, something nearly every film noir/parody possesses. The same goes for the opera homage and lack thereof. Key operatic elements are also lacking, such as libretto (text/story), aria (emotional solo), a recitative (speech-like narrative singing), and most importantly, the theatre and spectacle that opera is known for. None of that is found in this play. To be fair, perhaps that was the whole point, and it simply missed me as quickly as the 70-degree day in Chicago. If you squinted, you could see where Off-Nights was trying to go. The problem was in the execution and pace of the story. It was simply doing too much and not enough at the same time. Director Clare DiVizio’s introduction to the play provided more grounding and heart than the entirety of the run of the show, the reminder to all that queer and trans rights matter, now more than ever in today’s volatile and violent world. Off-Nights lingers so heavily in the descriptions of characters and their identification that we miss the ‘why?’ Why are we here? Why should we care about these characters? What do you want the audience to take away from this production, outside of a love story that references the last great love was when dinosaurs were drinking beers? Off-Nights, unfortunately, misses their mark.

When given a spotlight, one must be ready and prepared to step into it with something to say. No matter the medium chosen to convey one’s story, the story still needs to be easy to follow. It should have heart and depth even if it’s told through parody and satire. If the message you wish to impart to your audience is lost in translation, or simply doesn’t exist, was it ready for its moment on the stage? Did the story linger in the shadows too long, or was it simply not ready for the spotlight? With some rewriting, staging choices, and script alignment to any of the formulas the play aims at parodying, Off-Nights at the Sometimes Café could become the queer extravaganza it bills itself as. Until then, the audience is waiting for something great to take the stage and have its moment in the spotlight.

Check out the other 2026 season of events and shows at Bramble Arts Loft and learn more about The Thompson Street Opera Co. and their mission to bring inclusivity to the operatic art form.

When the sun plays peek-a-boo and a pre-winter chill settles over Chicagoland, locals inevitably look for ways to warm their hearts as well as their fingers and toes. It’s during this time of year that locals venture indoors and when the Chicago theatre scene offers respite from the bitter cold. Like a favorite holiday treat, there are dozens of choices available to seekers of light and warmth, from recurring favorites and classic retellings to original plays and immersive theatre. There is no better way to celebrate the season and to lighten spirits than a good hearty laugh, or two, or three, or so many your sides hurt the next day. You’ll find no better way of warming up this December than seeing the deliciously dirty fairytale that is Rapornzel now playing at the Hoover-Leppen Theatre.

Rapornzel (yes, you read that right, it is not a typo) is a panto-style reimagining of the classic fairytale of Rapunzel. Many years ago, the King and Queen of a far-off kingdom were blessed with a baby girl with long, magical, downstairs hair. One day, the jealous witch Mother F**ker kidnapped the child and locked her in a tower, selfishly squandering her merkin magic for herself. With the help of local hairdresser Dame Fanny Follicle, her thick-as-s**t son Pascal, the dashing Prince Ride-her, and the Hairy Fairy, will Rapornzel ever come out?

If you couldn’t glean it from the title, Rapornzel is a serious-unserious play. Serious in the fact that the cast and crew put on a spellbinding, side-splitting comedic performance, but unserious to ensure the audience was able to escape the bitter cold reality for a few short hours and simply enjoy a hilarious performance. The story is written in the pantomime style or “panto.” Panto is a theatrical performance style dating back to the 1700s, traditionally performed around Christmas time. The popular form incorporates song and dance, exaggeration, and fourth wall breaks to tell a story. It often interchanges slapstick puns heavy with innuendos and groan-worthy dad-jokes to break the monotony of traditional theatre. Critical to the success of these comedic shows is audience participation. It’s highly encouraged to react and respond to the actors on stage, think “booing” the villain, “cheering” the hero, and responsive questioning from the actors such as: “Chicago is so cold…” to which the audience responds: “How cold is it?” wherein the actors then deliver a witty or punny joke in the tale that may or may not make you laugh, guffaw, or simply groan at how bad it is (in a good way). Panto is not for everyone, nor are puns or dad jokes, but in the Vonnegut style approach of moving the story along, it’s difficult not to enjoy, and even an ostrich chuckle at least once.

But when it comes to Rapornzel, I guarantee you’ll laugh more than once. Rapornzel is what you get if you take a fairytale and remix it with a book of dad-jokes, throw in a general use of 1980s musical bangers, and finish it with the dry wit of 2025. Rapornzel is one of the many bawdy, silly, and immensely entertaining pantomime scripts written by professional performer-writer Tom Whalley. The writer’s works have become a popular holiday season tradition at PrideArts, joining the ranks of Whalley’s other works like Jack Off The Beanstalk, Sleeping with Beauty, and Throbbin Wood. With unimaginable R-rated puns, pop songs, and audience participation, Rapornzel follows a growing holiday tradition within PrideArts. This year’s production is exceptionally acted by Chicago talent like Jeremy Cox, who plays Hairy Fairy Dandruff, Peter Moeller as the local hairdresser Dame Fanny Follicle, and the sexy and incomparable Gina Cioffi as the evil Mother F**ker who kidnaps Rapornzel. For those still tepid about the play or the panto style, don’t worry, the skilled actors utilize their quick wits, improvisation skills, and comedic timing to make this production enjoyable for all, never overstepping where they sense timidity. They read and respond to the audience to both give and get energy to move the story along and draw out a smile from even the most austere theatre goer.

Therein lies the beauty of this type of theatrical play. Whalley’s style of Panto grants permission to the audience to simply lighten up, be silly, and share some laughs. In short, in its seriousness to stage a good production, it masterfully creates a space to be supremely unserious. There aren’t many theatrical stylings that can pull that off these days. 2025 has been wrought with ill humor, tired remakes, and uninspired sequels. It’s refreshing and welcome to see a production that doesn’t take itself too seriously while still representing Chicago theatre, PrideArts, and the theatrical community well. The actors, panto, and Rapornzel itself, beg the attendees to lighten up. It reminds us that we don’t always need to seek hidden meaning between the witty one-liners, and we don’t need to laugh at every joke we’ve heard at countless Thanksgiving tables by distant relatives. We should endeavor to seek out light and warmth as the days grow shorter and the darker nights descend. Rapornzel beckons Chicagoans inside and endeavors to thaw critical hearts this holiday season. It’s a healthy reminder that it’s okay to shout, especially when asked or directed to do so. It’s fine to laugh or simply smile. And it’s encouraged, and I daresay desperately needed, to remember that nothing, including fairy-hairy-overly-share-y-tales, is really that serious. Funny, yes. Serious, no. That in and of itself is a gift.

 Rapornzel is playing for a short while longer through December 14^th at the Hoover-Leppen Theatre in Center on Halsted (3656 N. Halsted, Chicago). Grab your winter jacket and your tickets today, available at www.pridearts.org, and warm up with a few hearty belly laughs guaranteed to shake away your winter blues.