SUNSETS: TWO ACTS ON A BEACH is a long-lost diamond by unsung genius Cal Yeomans. Yeomans, despite his myriad talents (playwright, poet, actor, artist, educator, lecturer, photographer, real estate investor, land developer, and philanthropist) was an unfortunate example of the prophet in his own land: only posthumously are his masterful contributions recognized as vital to the post-Stonewall / pre-AIDS gay theatre genre. Maybe he was a visionary; before his work as well as his life were extinguished in 2001 by AIDS he is quoted as saying: "Perhaps in years to come some young queen will find [my writings] in an old trunk bought at an auction, will read [them] and say, 'My God! Was that the way it was? Times sure have changed.' Let us pray for that anyway".

Happily, for us, Director David Zak is not an unsung genius; over three decades of work in Chicago theatre he’s amassed a mantel-full of Jeff Awards, including a special Jeff for “Fostering Diversity in Chicago Theatre”. If you’ve read my reviews, you’ll know that counts for a lot with me!  He served as Artistic Director at Bailiwick Repertory for yonks and, with co-Director Elayne LeTraunik, has taken Open Space Arts under his creative wing. OSA’s mission is to ‘foster inclusivity, promote understanding, and empower marginalized communities’ through various artistic mediums [media? – whatever].

Open Space Arts Theatre is an exemplar of the tiny storefront theatres I adore: on Wilson just east of Clark in, yes, a storefront, OSAT can seat maybe 40, if some people sit on the stairs. Director Zak was at the door to greet patrons, Lighting Designer Justin Walker offered his arm to make sure I didn’t come to grief on the stairs; and there I was, where I love best to watch theatre: immersed in the cast’s pheromone cloud.

Rick Paul gave us a perfect set, keeping it minimalist with creative multi-tasking – the table did service as a couch, a beach, a bed – and even a table!  And I loved Zach Stinnet’s playlists, recalling Donna Summers’ era dance tunes.

Costume Designer Zahrah Agha did a superb job with drag queen persona Henrietta’s gowns & etcetera, but I’m afraid I have a bone to pick with both Agha and Intimacy Designer Greta Zandstra: the press release promised nudity, but they kept their damned dance belts on – drat! and similar ejaculations!

The play is exactly what its title betokens:  two acts, on a beach, at sunset. Act One has a cast of one – John Cardone as Henry. His monologue was superb, with reminiscences ranging from droll to somber, sultry to sassy, superficial to analytical. Henry spoke several times of Him, trying to make light of but unable to conceal his anguish as he describes His defection for a younger, cuter model.

Henry was once Henrietta, a high-end drag act; now he’s “living with my mom … and that’s alright, really!” but we can’t help fearing the lady doth protest just a smidgen too much. Any road, it’s here at the beach that Henry has discovered his calling, a very special ministry. I won’t describe his precise methods, but he plies them here on the beach … or, more precisely, in the beach men’s room. As he follows the latest supplicant through the door marked MEN he delivers his final line, the title of the Act One: “The Line Forms to the Rear”.

There’s no intermission – both acts together are just over an hour – and we move right on to John (Chris Sylvie). Like Henry, John comes pretty regularly to this beach, usually at about sunset. We assume that John, like Henry, has undergone something of a reversal of fortune; from The Big City (“No, not Miami!” he tells Dan) to this small Florida town … but here he has the beach, and it’s here he meets Dan (Aaron Cappello).

Dan is Everyman and is doing pretty well for himself – nice construction job, nice wife, two nice kids – but apparently there’s something missing, cos it sure doesn’t take long for John and Dan to progress from badinage to BJ … after which Dan abruptly leaves and John’s sitting alone again on the beach months later; he’s almost given up on Dan when suddenly there he is again!

Their accidental meetings cum trysts become increasingly intimate but continue to end with Dan’s precipitous withdrawal (no, through the door … yeah). As their encounters become more and more visceral our concern grows: what will happen to John if Dan totally freaks out …?  But [spoiler!] Act Two also has a happy ending, with Dan and John serenaded by chanteuse Henrietta (John Cardone again, in full kit) singing The Man I Love.

It’s very difficult to describe this brief but compelling production without spoilers – I’m starting them already! – so you’re just going to have to trust me: see SUNSET: TWO ACTS ON A BEACH. Really. See it. You will so not be sorry.

*Extended through Sunday, March 3rd

"The Broads' Way," written and directed the one and only Ginger Minj herself, is a frolicsome foray through well-known Broadway musicals, from “Hamilton” to “The Sound of Music” (yes, you read that right: what does a drag queen do about Maria?!). In fact, the first piece was Gidget Galore singing the title song before segueing into a side-splitting lampoon of "The Lonely Goatherd." 

But I’m getting ahead of myself here. Let me introduce the show and the showgirlz first. Ginger Minj is perhaps best known (first known, any road) as a finalist on Season 7 of RuPaul’s Drag Race, leading to appearances and engagements on both the little and the big screens. Gidget Galore got his start backstage, costuming shows and events in Central Florida. He’s been on the wardrobe team for Donna Summer, Diana DeGarmo, The Jacksons and, of course, Ginger Minj. In "The Broads' Way," Gidget abandoned his Singer to bedeck the stage with his own singin’ self. He was, naturally, responsible for the costumes in "The Broads' Way," and they were splendiferous! not to mention marvelously adapted to rapid – oftimes onstage – changes.

In the crew, Michael Burlow was Maestro Michael and Stage Manager, which must keep him mightily busy. Bob Silton was Production Manager; he has numerous Chicago theatre credits and has designed several restaurants along Chicago’s North Shore. Cee-Jay Russell, Producer and Tour Manager, keeps the company on course with his signature phrase “we will figure it out, we always do”. David Charpentier and Jacob Slane were also Producers.

Ginger and Gidget began the show with a rollicking introduction, laden with waggish double entendre, insinuation, amphiboly and equivoque. Ginger lamented, “One musician I auditioned said he couldn’t fit his organ into this tiny box”. Ginger then schooled us in “How to Be a Good Audience”, then frequently soliciting our participation all through the show. The audience was very much an auxiliary cast member in "The Broads' Way," and the gaiety [sic] of Saturday’s frolicsome fans made the show trebly enjoyable. Now don’t get me wrong – Ginger and Gidget are professionals and could have put on a good show for a house full of evangelical Republicans. But having a hundred people crooning along (obviously a showtune-savvy set) and roaring their approval at every turn – well, that’ll wring the best performance out of anyone.

Their sole musician abandoned his piano early in the show: (“It’s time for my Union break”), and none of Ginger & Gidget’s abject solicitations (the non-criminal type, mind) could restore their penis … oops, pianist. But Gidget’s Glamazon order arrived just in time: a Smart Speaker named Dyslexa. Once they learned how to properly operate the contrivance (Dyslexa does the opposite of whatever you command), the music was perfect – as should be, having been mixed by Ginger herself.

I’m not going to list all the songs they parodied (senior confession: I don’t remember them all!) but a couple stuck with me. Ginger’s performance of “As If We Never Said Goodbye” was brilliant, with the delicious final lagniappe, “I’m ready for my closeup, Mr. DeMille.” At the other end of the spectrum Gidget was hilarious in her droll burlesque of “The Lonely Goatherd”. Both are multi-talented, with rich, flexible voices, lavish acting talent, and the aptitude to appear daffy that’s so crucial to successful improv. They worked wonderfully together, performing the whimsical duet “Anything You Can Do”, with ribald absurdity.

Venus Cabaret was the perfect venue for "The Broads' Way". True, it was small, but its informal seating (it’s a cabaret, hello) and bar provided the relaxed, convivial atmosphere that’s picture-perfect for camp.

I have but one criticism: I was really hoping that Ginger’s brand new cookbook cum [ha!] memoir, Southern-Fried Sass, would be available to purchase – at the bar, say? I’d so much rather give the profit directly to Ginger than to Glamazon! [Though if you are, like me, an online shopper, they have it in stock at Semicolon, Chicago’s first black-woman-owned bookstore.]
But for unlettered entertainment you can’t beat "The Broads' Way," with Ginger Minj and Gidget Galore! Highly recommended.

"The Broads' Way" is playing in extended engagement through February 4 at Mercury Theatre’s Venus Cabaret.

I wasn’t sure what to expect, not being an aficionado of animated / cartoon shows, but I figured hey, what the heck – it’s Christmas! And as it happens I have lots of good things to say about Music Theatre Works’ “Shrek: The Musical.”

It fits the bill for a holiday spectacle; it’s definitely spectacular. The performances were uniformly fabulous – from Jordan DeBose as Shrek to every last member of the ensemble there were no weak links. The orchestra, conducted by Linda Madonia, provided flawless accompaniment without ever overshadowing the voices. Laura Savage’s choreography, led by Dance Captain (and White Rabbit) Liora Lahav, showcased the cast’s talents individually and collectively.

The costumes, designed by Rachel M. Sypniewskr, were absolutely lush. It’s no mean feat to deck out dozens of fairytale creatures: ogres and princesses, a donkey and Three Blind Mice, Pinocchio, Peter Pan and Tinkerbell, Alice with White Rabbit and Mad Hatter … every cast member was onstage for the finale, “This is Our Story”, and they were a sight to behold!

“Shrek: The Musical” was a major production – there were 40 people in the production team and nearly 30 in the cast, so I obviously can’t praise everyone individually. You can find all the names at Music Theatre Works’ website but I’ll just discuss those who particularly stood out for me.

Jordan DeBose was wonderful as Shrek, their voice an appealing foil to Dani Pike as Fiona. Their best number was unquestionably “I Think I Got You Beat,” and their farting competition brought down the house. The message about the ubiquity of bad experiences and the pointlessness of competitive pain was made clear via the bathroom humor that appeals so strongly to kids. As I said, the entire ensemble was marvelous, but I particularly loved Michaela Shapiro as Pinocchio, and Brian Acker gave a special flair to Captain of the Guard.

The audience is always an integral part of the theater experience, and the kids, dressed up in their special holiday outfits, were great fun to watch. There weren’t many kids in the cast, but Omi Lichtenstein (young Fiona), Shaya Harris (teen Fiona), Teah Kiang Mirabelli as Young Shrek and Ugly Duckling, and Baby Bear Lea Biwer were terrific. The Tower princess trio of Pike, Lichtenstein, and Harris singing “I Know it’s Today” was marvelous, cleverly staged and perfectly performed. Michael Metcalf played a wonderfully tantrummy Lord Farquaad [more about Farquaad later but Metcalf’s performance was spot on!]. Maddison Denault captured my heart as Dragon, and the Dragon puppet, both its manufacture and its manipulation, was masterful.

If you’ve read other reviews by me you’ll know I unabashedly play favorites – there’s always one in every cast that takes my reason away (as Shirley DeVore would say), and in “Shrek”that one was Eustace J. Williams as Donkey. His character is the most unequivocally likable, but Williams went beyond Donkey’s innate charm with flawless comedic timing and potent use of space; his entire body – particularly his ears – perfectly expressed a full range of emotions.
“Shrek: The Musical” was a wonderful production with stunning performances. I do, however, have some procedural and production concerns. I’ll start at the top with Kyle Dougan, Music Theatre Works’ Producing Artistic Director, as I assume it was he who chose this play for MTW’s 2023 Holiday special.
“Shrek: The Musical” was Much.   Too.   Long.

Two acts plus intermission ran to nearly three hours – far too lengthy for a kids show! The actors came out to the lobby afterwards for photo ops, a lagniappe that lots of kids would probably have loved but relatively few took advantage of – by the time the aisles cleared it was pushing dinnertime and most parents just wanted to get their hungry cranky kids home, fed, and put to bed. What a shame! I’m sure lots of kids would have loved to show their friends a picture of themselves with Shrek and Fiona!

Going over the program afterwards my companion and I found at least an hour of material that the show would have been improved by cutting, bringing it down to 90 minutes running time with no intermission. Property rights may have restricted making cuts in the script; in that case the producer should have simply chosen another show, especially as length was by no means the only serious problem with “Shrek.”

For these problems responsibility lies with Director Johanna McKenzie Miller. In her Director’s Note she criticized the “strict casting” of the stories, citing the outdated gender message that a princess must sit in her tower and wait for a (male) prince to rescue her. I agree, that’s problematic, but then Miller went on to make casting decisions that actually raise far graver concerns.

Since Chicago theater’s recovery from the pandemic I’ve noticed an encouraging trend to focus on relevant social issues. In September 2022 I was blown away by Babes With Blades Theatre Company’s RICHARD III, produced as a collaborative project called Making Inclusive Theatre: Richard III as Disability Art. BWBTC is renowned for their gender-bending casting and exploration of previously unexplored voices, and in Richard III they focused on Ableism, featuring a blind actress in the title role, working with a deaf director.

“Shrek: The Musical” is – or should have been – a wonderful vehicle for bringing this issue before children. After all, the song “Freak Flag” in Act II is about everyone having a bit of freakiness in them. Unfortunately, not only did Miller fail to take advantage of the opportunity, she managed to portray an exactly opposite Moral of the Story.

I had been troubled from the start that Lord Farquaad, in the movie a very short man, was played by a full-size man acting on his knees; it was cleverly engineered but it just didn’t feel right to me. Then “The Ballad of Farquaad” informed us that Lord Farquaad was not simply a short man, he was a dwarf – and therefore a “freak.”

At that point this casting became not just troubling but actively offensive. Peter Dinklage showed us that a Little Person with acting talent need not – should not – limit his career to playing elves and fairies. I imagine Dinklage was already engaged when Miller was casting “Shrek: The Musical,” but Chicago’s actors certainly include multi-talented Little People, and Farquaad should absolutely have been played by one of them. The Broadway premier of “Shrek: The Musical” in 2008 cast a full-height actor as Farquaad. One might have hoped that 15 years later they would do better.

Miller’s ableism didn’t stop with Farquaad – incredibly, it got worse. Donkey’s song “Make a Move” featured backup by the Three Blind Mice, who at one point swing their white canes up to mimic microphones. The performance was truly funny – until Donkey snatched the cane away from the lead Mouse to use as a microphone himself.

NO.

Under no circumstances whatsoever is it OK to show kids that it’s funny to snatch away a disabled person’s mobility aid. Would people have laughed if Donkey had knocked a character out of a wheelchair and then done wheelies with it?

There is a really ugly history in this country of stage shows where majority demographic actors would dress and perform as caricatures of minority people with the intent of mocking or villainizing them. These shows, like SHREK, were seen at the time as good, wholesome family entertainment. But I never expected that in 2023 I'd be attending an ableist minstrel show.

"Shrek"could – should! – have sent a powerful inclusion message to kids: we all have our quirks and foibles and even a King may be a little freaky. This makes “freaks” normal. Instead, “Shrek: The Musical” showed kids that disabled peoples’ mobility devices are mere comic props, and Little People are true freaks who must be disguised behind Normal people in dwarfism blackface.

“Shrek: The Musical” is a well-performed show, but I advise you to think twice before letting your kids see it … and if you do decide to take them, make sure they’ve had an after-lunch nap! “Shrek: The Musical” plays at Northshore Center for Performing Arts in Skokie through December 31.

Charles Dickens wrote A CHRISTMAS CAROL in December 1843, and by February 1844 London stages were mounting productions of the work. A CHRISTMAS CAROL is a classic, encompassing all those things we say about ‘classics’: it is iconic and traditional; it’s popular and precious (I’m flashing on Gollum as Jacob Marley’s ghost) as well as familiar, universal, standard…. In other words, I doubt there’s anyone reading this review who needs the plot described or its message debated.

And surely nobody in this ol’ town need ask: “Where is A CHRISTMAS CAROL playing?” The Goodman Theatre has staged this show annually for forty-five years, and Larry Yando has played Ebenezer Scrooge for the past 15 of those. Traditional and familiar indeed! I’ll warrant Goodman’s new Artistic Director Susan Booth had a few opening-night jitters about how Chicago would respond to her management of this solemn custom; she could get sympathy from Jessica Thebus – this is only the third holiday season she’s been its Director. But I’d say both can rest in heavenly peace – A CHRISTMAS CAROL totally works.

I’m an habitue of the tiny street front theatres in Lakeview and Edgewater, so for me it was an adventure simply perusing the program – in Playbill! rather than skulking behind a QR code icon. I often see a Fight Director in the production staff, but Andrea Gentry’s role as Flight Director is a new one on me. She did it brilliantly with the airborne Ghost of Christmas Past (Lucky Stiff), who flew covered in spangles and wearing a glowing crescent moon crown. Goodman Theatre has made prolific use of modern technology and staging techniques to bring us a truly awe-inspiring production. The sets (Todd Rosenthal) were ingenious, from the homely Cratchit family kitchen to fantastical trips through the sky, all accentuated by Keith Parham’s masterful lighting. And the sound! Choralists frequently appeared singing carols in assorted languages, often accompanied by ensembles including French horn, flute, concertina, accordion, guitar and fiddle. The sound design as a whole was wrought by Richard Woodbury and Pornchanok Kanchanabanca and directed by Malcolm Ruhl. Composer Andrew Hansen provided lovely originals for the occasion. The highest compliment I can pay them is to say I often didn’t hear the soundtrack, but I felt it throughout.

The show opened with Rika Nishikawa singing a Ukrainian carol, “Siva Zozulenka”, whose lyrics speak of a bird offering blessings and peace—a felicitous prayer for the holiday season in beleaguered Ukraine. This acknowledgement of the chaos devastating our world was as appropriate as it was appreciated.

So … alright, already. I could go on devising ways to make lists of names and titles reasonably coherent and interesting, utilizing gigabytes of characters and multitudinous synonyms for ‘fantastic’, but why? You can find all that information in the reviews from the major newspapers. I concur with their judgments of the show’s quality: it was truly spectacular. But why should I reiterate all that? Suffice it to say the production was marvelous, from the steadfast brilliance of the crew to the superb performance by every single member of the cast. Truly a magnificent work … do see it! But for now, I have some other thoughts I’d like to discuss.

Let’s start with appearances. Goodman Theatre is apparently taking the idea of inclusion seriously; the diversity in race, color, nationality, gender, and body type was remarkable. It was not, however, always congruent with the story. For example: I heartily celebrate casting an African American Tiny Tim, and Christian Lucas was terrific, up to and including “God bless us, everyone!”. But I found it jarring to see him surrounded by the totally white bread Cratchit family. Nobody knows just what affliction caused his lameness (polio? rickets?) – are we to believe this arcane ailment also produces cutaneous hyper-melanation?

And as one who’s spent a lifetime battling love of food and sedentary habits, I applaud the inclusion of cast members who don’t conform to the Barbie ideal of feminine habitus… but weren’t some of those characters supposed to be tubercular? These dissonances tend to make the casting appear motivated more by diplomacy than thematic consonance. There’s a fine line between celebrating diversity and being PC.  We each define that line’s position individually, and we all feel a twitch when venturing too close to that line. I twitched a bit during A CHRISTMAS CAROL.

(L-R) Daniel José Molinaand Amira Danan in Goodman Theatre's 'A Christmas Carol'

Dickens wrote A CHRISTMAS CAROL occurring in the present – the 1844 present. I don’t wish to cast aspersions on the aptitude of the average theatregoer for deciphering a metaphor, but you’ll notice Dickens hadn’t that sort of faith in his audience – he kept it simple, setting the action in the present as a social commentary on the present—1844.

I’d like to see Bob Cratchit’s role taken by LaToya Jones, a single mom of three who’s working at Walmart til closing on Christmas Eve and doesn’t dare ask for the day off for fear she’ll lose her job. Her meagre salary isn’t so much the issue as the benefits. Without health insurance what would become of her youngest son with cerebral palsy?  Defining the role of Ebenezer Scrooge is the real puzzle—the casting call would be humongous. Do we use her boss? Walmart’s CEO? Senator? Too many possibilities!

With these traditional productions it’s a challenge to inject something new. Larry Yando contrives to offer new (and effective!) comedic twists to his Scrooge. We saw delightful innovations from costume designer Heidi Sue McMath and mask designer Sarah Bendix. But I’m talking about a much bigger variation: how about a modern interpretation? Joffrey Ballet gave us a Chicago-based Nutcracker (and it’s brilliant!). I’m suggesting a more complex alteration, relocating the story in time as well as locale. Hundreds of playwrights have applied that sort of exegesis in adaptations of The Bard – how about Boz?

Highly Recommended.

This show, performed at the Ruth Page Center for the Arts, was promoted in Buzz Center Stage (www.buzzcenterstage.com) last month as an upcoming event, and here’s the skinny on the actual performance. Spoiler alert! It was terrific – but let me share some details.

We were greeted at the door by the choreographer, Ginny Ching-Yin Lo – she was obviously thrilled about this premiere of her tenth and latest work, ENLIVEN. This friendly personal introduction was characteristic of the entire show – IDENTITY is committed to connecting with their audience. Filmmaker Spence Warren took time to speak with us both before and after the show. He sat near us and I loved watching as he bopped and wriggled through the performance, clearly very invested in the action.

IDENTITY PERFORMING ARTS is a very diverse company:  Josephine Castillo, Mark Gonzalez, Mackenzi Bolyard-Pizaῆa, Amelia Harris, Audrey Hartnett, Wilson Hicken, Hayley Midea, Hanley Simpson, and Tiana Thompson were all onstage variously through the evening. Their minimalist costumes brought uniformity to their diversity, rendering each individual genderless and monochromatic, it is characteristic of IDENTITY to showcase each dancer’s personal brilliance while melding them into a unified whole.

The choreography was totally unique: balletic, gymnastic, flexible, and asynchronous. My companion was reminded of Cirque du Soleil – though I’ve not seen Cirque myself, I find his comparison apt. Individually and corporately, the dancers were agile, buoyant, and ever graceful. Even their most ethereal and flowing passages were imbued with a singular vivacity, a brio and zeal that spoke eloquently of each artist’s love for what they do.

Spence’s fifteen-minute film KINDRED was sandwiched between performances. In it they danced through various rooms of a (perfectly gorgeous) modern home: Pliés and port-de-bras using the dishwasher as a barre, fold overs in the living room, and several maneuvers in the bathroom. Oh dear – I’m not making this sound very good, but it was absolutely magical! Seeing the dancers perform in a home rather than on a stage personalized the work, ‘bringing it home’ in a literal sense. Eit seemed even more magical when Spence admitted to us that the entire series had been filmed in a single 8-hour day!

Ginny Ching-Yin Lo is IDENTITY’s founder, choreographer, and Artistic Director. Her works have been performed in France, Germany, and China as well as the US. It is IDENTITY’s mission to ‘connect, create, and affirm’, using dance to express societal issues and heal the community.  Since its founding in 2016 IDENTITY has striven to carry dance to the underserved, to those who have limited access to its magnetic appeal.  

There is but one additional performance of ENLIVEN, Saturday 18 November at Studio5 Dance Center in Evanston. And keep watch for Spring and Fall performances in 2024!

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

It’s hard to find words to describe DEEPLY ROOTED DANCE THEATRE’s performance. Phenomenal …  wondrous … magnificent … incredible – all these and more apply but even all together they’re insufficient to the task.

DEEPLY ROOTED DANCE THEATRE, a Chicago-based dance company, has been expressing the transformative power of art through dance education and performance since 1996. In their own words, Deeply Rooted Dance ‘reimagines and diversifies the aesthetics of contemporary dance by uniting modern, classical, American, and African American traditions in dance and storytelling’. That last word, storytelling, is uniquely cogent. Friday night in the Auditorium Theatre every dance told its own story within a program that formed an artistic digest of Deeply Rooted Dance Theatre’s history.

The first chapter was Junto [translation “Together], choreographed in 1990 by Kevin Iega Jeff.  Junto was comprised of three episodes: a duet with Rebekah Kuczma and Mekeba Malik, a quartet of Emani Drake and Ahmad Hill, Nyemah Stuart and Sam Ogunde, and a second duet with Alyssa MacCullum and Louis Pearson.  Costume Designer Victoria Carot expressed Pat Metheny’s jubilant music in vivid primary colors: each pair of dancers wore leotards of radiant blue, red, yellow, or verdant green. Sarah Lackner was Lighting Designer for this and every piece, and was masterful, including in some numbers of various images projected against the back of the stage. Stage Manager Gwenne Godwin, with Assistant Razor Wintercastle, molded all components into an exultant whole.

The revival of 53 Inhale, choreographed by Gary Abbott in 2009, recounted Deeply Rooted Dance Theatre’s middle years, expressing Abbott’s ‘heartfelt tribute to the artists in my life’. Cherae Grimes, Joshua L. Ishmon, Mekeba Malik, Sam Ogunde, Taylor Ramos, and Nyemah Stuart performed in costumes designed by Victoria Carot.

NOTE: The Aud Theatre had a program kerfuffle, and I had no program to refer to and make notes on until Intermission; apologies in advance for any errors.

Vespers, a perennial favorite, was choreographed in 1986 by Ulysses Dove; he also designed the original costumes, redesigned by Lea Umberger. The dance began in a pas de deux with Emani Drake and a straightback chair; gradually she was joined by Taylor Ramos, Alyssa MacCullom, Heather Cagle, Rebekha Kuczma, and Nyemah Stuart. Mikel Rouse’s “Quorum” provided an electronic percussive score that displayed the dancers’ lithe and dynamic elegance. Gravity-defying leaps and the interrelationships and energies between the six women combined beautifully.

This was Deeply Rooted Dance Theatre’s company premiere of Mama Rose, a solo performance by Emani Drake to the music of Archi Shepp / Jasper Van’t Hof. Victoria Carot designed the beautifully austere black costume. Choreographer Keith Lee dedicated this work to New York dance icon Thelma Hill. Emani Drake’s brilliance is, naturally, most gloriously appreciated in solo performances, but I’m just as enthralled by her ability to integrate with other dancers without eclipsing them – like Cassie in A Chorus Line.

A pause followed Mama Rose, giving the stage crew time to carefully sweep the floor so the finale could safely be performed barefooted. Deeply Rooted often performs barefoot, a striking feature one doesn’t commonly see in professional dance, for the obvious reason that a dancer’s feet must be as cherished as a pianist’s hands and a singer’s throat. I experienced the absence of footwear as a powerful statement for the final chapter in this chronicle of Deeply Rooted Dance Theatre.

The finale was a World Premiere of the entire 30 minutes of Madonna Anno Domini, choreographed by the company’s Artistic Director Nicole Clarke-Springer. Costumes, an ‘inspiration from Men Ca Acnem’ were stylized street clothes, eloquently drab. The soundtrack was unique, as much spoken as musical, began with excerpts from President Barak Obama’s 2008 victory speech in Grant Park and Aretha Franklin singing The Long and Winding Road. Culoe de Son and Alev Lenz were followed by Sinead O’Connor, with a rich narration running throughout, one phrase of which stays with me: “take my ex-cannibal’s kiss and make a revolution”. Madonna Anno Domini was an anthem to 200 painful and triumphant years of struggle for racial equality, and specifically three generations of civil rights work in Clarke-Springer’s family history. Madonna Anno Domini was about persistence and about community, about tyranny and leadership, and the complex aftermath of all that empowerment.

The audience is a vital part of any performance, and never more so than with Deeply Rooted Dance. I’m not given many opportunities to be, as a white woman, in the minority. In a crowd. As always it was both compelling and effectual, but as a reviewer it was challenging. The Auditorium Theatre was packed, yet within the throng there was a powerful atmosphere of kinship; a kinship that did not include me: the stranger at a family reunion, writing a review from the outside looking in. I mention it to put my views in context.

It seemed that every dancer – certainly every one of the principals – had a squadron of family and friends in the audience. They applauded for every brief solo or pas de deux, never disruptive, just enough to herald their specific and loving support. And after the final curtain the dancers beckoned everyone – Artistic Director, Rehearsal Director, Executive Director, Choreographers and Uncle Tom Cobbleigh and all – onstage for ovations, flowers, and hugs.

Family. Community.

Eloquent.

November 3^rd’s was a single-night performance, but I HIGHLY RECOMMEND you attend DEEPLY ROTTED DANCE THEATRE at the first opportunity.

"The Night of the Hunter" is not a feel-good play, but it is a very good one, exceedingly well performed and produced. Playing at City Lit Theatre through December 3 it was adapted for the stage by Shawna Tucker from the novel of the same name by Davis Grubb.

It is based on the true story of Harry Powers, a serial killer hanged in 1932 in Clarksburg, WV. 

John Harper (Alex Albrecht), driven to despair in the Great Depression, impulsively robs a bank, killing two people. He stumbles home and gives the $10,000 he stole (an exorbitant sum in 1932) to his nine year old son John and little Pearl, who’s not yet four. Before surrendering himself to the police he extracts from young John a pledge to always protect both his little sister and the money, cunningly hidden inside Pearl’s favorite dolly.

Harper’s cellmate in Moundsville Penitentiary is Powers (Bryan Breau), a con man who murders widows once he’s reaped their savings. Unable to winkle the secret from Harper before he’s hanged, Powers is eventually released, and promptly heads for Harper's tiny Appalachian hometown to try his luck with the widow.

Kendal Romero and Bryan Breau in "Night of the Hunter" at City Lit Theatre.

The struggling young widow Willa (Kendal Romero) is waiting tables at the cafe – the hub for town gossip – and speculation on “Where did he hide the money?” has become a town obsession. Willa swears her husband never told her, but most don’t believe her, especially Powers, and he proceeds to charm her, along with the rest of the town. Bryan Breau is indeed tantalizing as Preacher; one wonders, with café owners Icey (Sheila Willis) and Ben (Alex Albrecht) at Willa’s hesitation to accept his proposal.

Mary Margaret McCormack is full-grown and taller than Pearl’s ‘elder’ brother John (Jacqui Touchet), yet she plays the role of Pearl so credibly that one sees not the actor but the little girl. McCormack eloquently depicts the turmoil and distress of a little bitty girl burdened with far too big a secret, especially as, unlike John, Pearl is enchanted with her "new daddy." But she trusts her big brother, even when she’s sure John is wrong.

Jacqui Touchet’s John was just as persuasive: a youngster poised at the transition from childhood into manhood, forced too early into the role of "man of the house," only to be challenged by a man John neither likes nor trusts. Touchet gave an authentic picture of a boy trying to protect his mother and little sister from a man that everyone insists is a good man, a Man of God; a “Preacher.”

Sheila Willis was brilliant as Icey, a scold and a quidnunc with the classic heart of gold and generally good intuition … except about Preacher. Other townsfolk – Ruby, Miz Cunningham and Birdie – were variously played by Rich Cotovsky and Simmery Branch.

I was impressed by Kendal Romero’s interpretation of Willa as an ineffectual woman whose instinct to refuse Preacher capitulates under peer pressure, only to be verified on their wedding night, when Preacher declares their union will be platonic. Evidently he’s not quite ruthless enough to bed a woman he intends to defraud and then kill – what a guy, huh?

Willa is naturally disheartened by his rejection, but under his high-falutin’ pretexts and vindications (not neglecting to mention an Apple from a certain Tree), her disappointment and chagrin mutate into shame at her own depravity. She seeks to purge herself by active participation in the Preacher’s tent revivals where her testimonies, a savory amalgam of titillation and self-loathing, garner huge collections. But it's still not enough for Preacher; he’s haunted by the image of that $10,000.

Director Brian Pastor divided the action into multiple brief vignettes separated by commentary from the Narrator Shawna Tucker, who also wrote the stage adaptation. Set Designer Jeremiah Barr built a very simple set, ably lit by Lighting Designer Liz Cooper, whose raised platform created multiple levels and facilitated rapid transitions using only a couple of benches and a café table. The apparel chosen by Costume Designer Rachel S Parent effectively illustrated each character: ‘accidental’ glimpses of Pearl’s little-girl underpanties complemented McCormack’s portrayal of the child, and dropping Willa’s hemline below that of other townswomen clinched her irresolute persona.

I’ve seen the work of many violence choreographers and Paul Chakrin’s was top shelf, and Stage Manager Ayla Sweet choreographed the swift scene changes expertly. The Depression-era Appalachian accents were adroitly piloted by Dialects Coach Carrie Hardin.

I doubt anyone would contest the appeal of a feel-good musical for the post-pandemic, pre-election, peri-MAGA year of 2023, and "Brigadoon" is just that: a feel-good show with overtones of fantasy and romance.

The story has two NYC businessmen wandering astray on a hunting trip in Scotland and happening upon the village of Brigadoon – a most peculiar village, as Act One makes increasingly clear. Tommy Albright (brilliantly played by Conor Jordan) and Jeff Douglas (Zachary Linnert), despite their friendship, are about as different as two men could be. Tommy has, to all appearances, a perfect life: perfect job, perfect fiancée, plenty of money and seemingly without a care in the world. Still, Tommy feels there’s something missing, and yearns to find he-knows-not-what. Jeff is more settled as dogged bachelor and tenacious tippler . He meets Tommy’s dreams with staunch rationality: Jeff believes only in what he can see, hear, feel, taste … like that.

They get lost trekking through the Scottish highlands and, though the map shows no settlement nearby, they follow the sound of music to find a group of men and women preparing for the wedding of Charlie Dalrymple (Luke Nowakowski) to Jean MacLaren (Susannah Harvey). Perhaps the wedding is the reason they’re dressed so queerly? for everyone is garbed in traditional Scottish dress … traditional for 1747, that is! The people speak oddly, with mysterious references to getting the wedding over before ‘the miracle’.

Jeff, more than a little inebriated, wants only a chance to sleep it off, which Meg Brockie (Madison Kauffman) eagerly offers. She leads him into the heathered hills, but once there reveals she has no intention of letting him sleep, delightfully expressed in the song “The Love of My Life”.

Meanwhile, Tommy’s eye has been caught by the beautiful Fiona MacLaren (Sarah Obert) and he insists on accompanying her as she goes to gather The Heather on the Hill. I trust I won’t be accused of a major spoiler by revealing that they fall in love; their duet It’s Almost Like Falling in Love is one of the show’s best-known songs.

Still, as Jeff points out, there are things that need explaining, and Fiona takes them to the eccentric Mr. Lundie (cleverly played by Timothy Wolf), who explains that in 1747 the town, to avoid being hexed by a traveling troop of sorceresses, was placed under a very special spell: the village of Brigadoon exists for but a single day every century; when the populace goes to bed at the close of that day they don’t awaken until 100 years in the future. And there’s a major catch: nobody can leave Brigadoon or the entire populace is doomed – kind of like Hotel California expanded to the scope of Jonestown.

Performances were universally superb. The voices of all principals – Sarah Obert (Fiona), Luke Nowakowski (Charlie), and Isa Ramirez as Maggie Anderson – were strong and true, particularly Sarah Obert’s clarion soprano. I single out Madison Kauffman (Meg Brockie) for her astonishing enunciation of some wickedly rapid lyrics without her tang getting tungled even once. And I single out Conor Jordan (Tommy) because, even in a comprehensively magnificent cast, his splendid performance stood out as exceptional. Not eclipsing the others, mind – that can create problems – but I found Jordan’s singing, acting, and dancing to be extra-specially special. [Yeah, I usually have a favorite in every cast – so sue me.]

The cast surrounding these principals was equally gifted: Stan Austin as Stuart Dalrymple, Bob Sanders as Archie Beaton with Will Leonard playing his son Harry; Susannah Harvey playing Fiona’s sister Jean MacLaren and Kent Joseph as their father Andrew. Timothy Wolf was an adorably discombobulated Mr. Lundie. The rest of the villagers were Jane Ashton (Delaney Good), Maggie Anderson (Isa Ramirez), Frank (Jimmy Hogan), and Kate (Anna Marie Abbate), with Adam Raso covering Sandy/Angus. The Ensemble added breadth and depth: Emma Jean Eastlund, Theresa Egan, David Geinosky, Dee Kimpel, Olivia Russell, Alex Villasenor, and Swing Renee Dwyer. It’s a big cast and I wish I could comment on each individual but have to settle with unanimously stunning.

The performers were brilliant; unfortunately much of the production tTeam didn’t quite meet their standard. Stage space was limited, but I’m accustomed to the really small stages of the storefront theatres I love, and Scenic Designer Ann Davis made clever use of the space, complementing the action of the play with multiple levels and alternate entrances. Not so much though with Props Designer Emmett Wickersham, who allowed some serious anachronisms: in the very first scene I was jolted by Tommy carrying a canvas duffel prominently emblazoned with the Ralph Lauren Polo label.

Hair, Wig and Makeup designer Alice Salazar, with Assistant Melanie Saso, did a nice job with some remarkably hirsute characters, but the wardrobes created by Costume Designer Jazmin Aurora Medina and Assistant Kristen Brinati were … meh. Scots clan plaids are distinctly singular and mean something; it’s not just a form of checkered cloth, and the kilts and flyplaids for "Brigadoon" were not authentic. Speaking of flyplaids, I understand the rationale for securing it twice – the dances are quite vigorous. Scotsmen manage, though … and I was very disappointed to catch a glimpse of inauthentic dress (or, more properly, undress) under the kilts. As for the girls, their dresses were pretty, but in no way memorable. Design is all about minutiae and details, and these fine points were neglected in "Brigadoon."

"Brigadoon" demanded a cast well-versed in three domains: acting, singing, and dancing, with the latter two dependent on Sound Designer Vija Lapp and Music Director / Conductor Michael McBride’s 7-piece orchestra. On the whole it was grand, supporting but not overwhelming the cast, though I do wish McBride had found a bagpipe. Lighting Designer Andrew Meyers skillfully evoked the shifting environments, from bright celebration to nubilous mystery.

The fights were well choreographed by Amber Wuttke, likewise the work of Intimacy Choreographer Elena Patterson; and the Scots dialect, Coached by Kathy Logelin, was spot-on. Sasha Gerritson Directed, and her Assistant Clayton Cross was also Choreographer. His dances were superb, incorporating elements of the Scottish fling and the Strathspey travelling step into each ceilidh throughout the show – presumably influenced by the consulting Thistle & Heather Highland Dancers. Dance performance was magnificent, sustained by Dance Captains Anna Marie Abbate and Isa Ramirez. Kudos to all collaborators, and of course laurels for a wonderful cast of dancin’ fools!

And speaking of collaboration: raves and plaudits for Stage Manager Allison Gonzalez. She and her Assistant Ethan Colish deserve recognition as authentic Cat Herders for bringing this show off! [BTW, have you seen this brilliant cat herder clip? It was a halftime ad for some long-ago Superbowl).

"Brigadoon" is emblematic of the Golden Age of musicals, in which all three domains – acting, singing, and dancing – play key roles. Prior to the 1920’s musical theatre was still evolving from variety shows, which might include singers, magicians, acrobats, and other divers offerings – Helen Keller and Anne Sullivan demonstrating ‘finger language’ was popular. Over time these disconnected acts took shape as vaudeville and revues, where the variety of acts had a central theme. The Jazz Age, 1920’s through 30’s brought operettas to the stage, produced by the likes of Cole Porter, Irving Berlin, and teams like Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart.

In the Golden Age of Musical Theatre, 1940’s thru 1950’s, Lerner & Lowe joined their contemporaries in producing book musicals – plays where songs and dances were fully integrated into a serious dramatic story, aimed to evoke genuine emotions, with fully three-dimensional characters performing songs and dances motivated by situation and character. Some outstanding examples of book musicals include “My Fair Lady”, “West Side Story”, and “The King and I”. Into this welcoming environment Lerner and Loeb brought "Brigadoon."

The 1960’s-‘70’s saw a major shift in style, as is to be expected in such turbulent times. Experimentation with rock musicals like “Hair” accompanied social commentary, as in “Fiddler on the Roof” and “A Chorus Line”. Stephen Sondheim flourished in this pre-contemporary era, as did Kander and Ebb and Andrew Lloyd Webber. The millenium seemed to turn back into more comedic offerings, and we’ve yet to see what the 2020’s will bring.

Me, I like dramas focusing on social issues but in general I hope for a strong swing toward original works that experiment with alternative genre.
How about you? Where would you like to see musical theatre turn? For today escapism is appropriate, and "Brigadoon" delivers! "Brigadoon" runs through November 12 at North Shore Center for the Performing Arts in Skokie.

Maybe it’s good for a theater reviewer sometimes to be … befuddled? Disquieted? Stupefied? Certainly my companion was. He’s not new to things theatrical, but has seen little of Chicago’s signature storefront ‘tiny black box’ theatres that I love so much. So Redtwist Theatre's "Wolves" was a pretty strenuous piece to cut his teeth on!

"Wolves" is presented as "a gay re-imagining of Little Red Riding Hood." This description is decidedly misleading; "How Her Hood Got So Red" might be closer. The script is by Steve Yockey, who served as co-executive producer for "Supernatural," a Netflix series. Yeah, "Wolves" fits right in with that. So do not attend "Wolves" thinking ‘fairy tale’ (and for god’s sake do NOT take the kids!). The only real tie to Little Red is the axe hanging prominently on the wall. If you faint at the sight of blood you’ll miss half the show. Just sayin’.

Let me introduce the guys: Ben (Joshua Servantez) has recently moved from a small town to the big city, a transition that has elevated his neurotic anxieties to a truly alarming level. It doesn’t help that his ex-lover Jack (Gardy Gilbert) has moved in as a roommate / friend … and you know how well that sort of arrangement tends to work, especially when they have disparate views on what ‘ex’ means. We get much of this backstory from the Narrator (Monique Marshaun) who, with a snap of her fingers, stops the action mid-syllable and saunters onstage for appraisal, elucidation, and explication, including her ever-more-probing exegesis of the guys themselves.

Here’s how the story unfolds. Narrator has been trying to get Ben a little better acquainted with reality, but you know how it is with anxiety – logic truly doesn’t help. At length he just crawls into bed and pulls the covers over his head. Jack appears, resplendent in black lace bodystocking, black leather harness, and an adorable red velvet … what was that? Not a hoodie, not a cloak … let’s go with "abbreviated hooded frock." (I simply must interject an impassioned plea for Costume Designer Madeline Felauer to make one of those for me!)

Gardy Gilbert (Jack) and Joshua Servantez (Ben) in "Wolves" from Redtwist Theatre

So now here’s Jack, dressed to the nines and looking thoroughly delectable. He tries to sneak out of the apartment but Ben wakes and they embark on a deranged folie au deux: Jack wants to go to the bar but Ben insists it’s dangerous. There are people … no, wolves … out there in the dark, and they’re sure to rend Jack limb from limb. Ben offers orange chicken, Netflix, Yahtzee – anything! But these tempting alternatives work about as well as you’d expect with a guy who’s in the mood to get laid. [Ben offers that as well – remember those disparate views I mentioned? – but that’s a no-go too]. Our sympathies vacillate between Ben, who’s authentically (if psychoneurotically) terrified; and Jack, who’s now thoroughly frustrated on several fronts.

Jack finally makes it out the door, leaving Ben to obsess over wolves in the dark. The Narrator commiserates and eventually manages to get him back into bed and a fractious sleep.
He is (thank god!) still sleeping when Jack returns with his trick (Michael Dias), whom he insists on calling Wolf. A truly hilarious scene follows – Jack makes inept advances but is preposterously ambivalent about jumping Wolf’s bones, in yet another case of distinctly disparate views! Ben wakes up (naturally) and has the predictable reaction, particularly when Jack introduces his new inamorato as Wolf. At length Ben goes reluctantly back to bed.

If I go any farther I’ll start running into spoilers. Suffice it to say that, unlike Little Red Riding Hood, the carnage is not the final outcome but just another plot twist. [Note: The theatre considerately marks the seats where you might get splashed.]

The production was truly awesome. The set is the first thing you notice of course, and Scenic Designer Rose Johnson left plenty of room for the (considerable) action: one couch, one drinks cart, and one bed (in a weird little alcove festooned with red streamers), and that’s it. Oh, no, wait: there’s also an axe. With Costume Designer Madeline Felauer they’ve created a totally dichromatic production – everything, but everything, is red and black. And I’d be remiss not to repeat kudos to Felauer’s costumes. Ben and Wolf were dressed normally (in black and red), but Narrator Marshaun was gorgeous in a teensey weensey little black dress and stiletto heels. And as for Jack … Gardy Gilbert gave Felauer a stunning canvas to work with, and she made him stone scrumptious.

They all acted as good as they looked, truly! – but I have to give a hefty dose of the credit to Lighting Designer Piper Kirchhofer for helping to set the emotional tenor of each scene. It ain’t easy to light that tiny black box, but she managed famously! Same goes for Music Director Philip Matthews and Sound Director Angela Joy Baldesare; together they gave us just the right aural backdrop. Just out of curiosity, I wonder how often in their career Props Designer Evy Burch has had to provide an actual bucket of blood (for Mashaun to drizzle and dapple and dump).

I regret to say that the violence wasn’t always convincing. It may have been my perspective, off to extreme stage left, but I think Fight & Intimacy Director Courtney Abbott still has some work to do. Mind, my bar is set high – just last week I saw Duchess of Malfi, and the Babes with Blades rival Quentin Tarantino for gratuitous gore!

I’ve already said all four actors were superb, but I’m not going to just leave it at that. Servantes (Ben) was masterfully neurotic – he’ll probably have to get over a few tics behind this role! Narrator was a challenging part, but Marshaun was perfect, and super-funny! Gilbert (Jack) managed the ultra-rapid badinage masterfully, and Dias (Wolf) simply rocked my world.

"Wolves" is perhaps one of those hybrid pieces: it’s comedic but not a comedy; it’s about love and sex but it’s not a romance; tragedy doesn’t really fit either, and calling it slasher would be oversimplifying. Yockey braids all these genre together into a droll, poignant, blood-curdling whole.

The "Wolves" script is all about timing: one must act at exactly the right split second to keep the duologues surging along at breakneck speed: Ben and Jack had a great many ultra-rapid exchanges with never a bobble. And the abrupt finger-snap stop-actions giving Narrator the floor were executed flawlessly. That kind of precision is only possible with exceptionally skillful direction. Luckily, WOLVES was directed by Dusty Brown, with Assistant Kezia Waters. Brown is awesome, and they did their usual splendid job with "Wolves."

FYI, Brown is also Redtwist’s artistic director, so look for lots of good stuff from Redtwist this season. Their next production, Larry Kramer’s iconic NORMAL HEART, is almost sold out already, despite its not even having definite dates yet! Redtwist has a grant from City of Chicago for renovation, and will put on a new face and extra amenities without sacrificing its signature little black box vibe.

My increasing cognizance of all that’s happening behind the scenes has given me special appreciation for the Stage Manager, and my hat’s off to Raine DeDominici. "Wolves" was a complicated show. What does a stage manager actually do? Everything.’"Wolves" could have been total bedlam; would have been, without DeDominici’s extraordinary guidance and governance. Kudos, kudos.

In summary: do not buy tickets to "Wolves" if you’re looking for a pleasant, relaxing evening. Expect to leave "Wolves" feeling bewildered, rattled, stunned, disquieted … and awestruck. One final caveat: when I left the theatre I was really glad it’d been a matinee and the sun was still shining. In fact, I’m going to try to limit myself to matinees for a while. There’s "Wolves" out there in the dark.
"Wolves" plays at Redtwist Theatre through November 5

"Duchess of Malfi" is another winner from Babes with Blades Theatre Company, a troupe I have loved for 20 years. As part of its core mission, Babes With Blades uses stage combat to "tell stories that elevate the voices of underrepresented communities and dismantle the patriarchy." Stage fighting is an interesting vehicle for social justice; the mere existence of an all-woman stage fighting company is a statement in itself.

Another reason I love Babes With Blades is the consistent excellence of their work. I’ve never seen a bad production. John Webster's Jacobean-period play "Duchess of Malfi," written in 1613, is also set during that period, an age characterized by corruption and immorality in the upper classes of society. Major themes of Jacobean drama included injustice, religious conflict, and questioning of the social order. Both tragedies and satires were popular. "Duchess of Malfi" is a little of both.

The plot has numerous convolutions but the basic theme is: the widowed Duchess (Carrie Hardin), a woman of noble character as well as birth, loves her humble steward Antonio (Clara Byczkowski). Her brothers Ferdinand (Shane Richlen), and the Cardinal (Carlos Wagener-Sobrero) vehemently oppose any remarriage of their sister—for obvious dynastic and estate purposes—and they hire ex-con Bosolo (Maureen Yasko) to spy on the couple. The lovers—no fools they—suspect chicanery, and Antonio dispatches his cherished friend Delia (Hazel Monson), to Rome, there to meet with Delia’s friend (and ex-lover) Julia (Carina Lastimosa), who is the Cardinal’s current mistress.Surely she can winkle out what the dastardly duo is up to.

One can see how this imbroglio is destined inevitably to end in the sort of carnage that The Babes do best. 

But let’s discuss the production first. The crew of "Duchess of Malfi" includes no specific vocal coach, but the players mastered Webster's "anfractuous" (to use an 18th century word) and highly convoluted language. But here the problem is not the language but the script itself. Playwright John Webster is besotted with his own voice. Shakespeare’s ornate language never loses track of the story, but Webster has a lamentable tendency to throw in superfluous verbiage simply because he can, resulting in a nearly inscrutable script.  

Director Hayley Rice and Technical Director Line Bower made shrewd use of the limited stage area to tell the story. Adroit blocking created narrative sketches through cunning placement of individuals and groups. Scenic Designer Marcus Klein and Props Designer Meg X. McGrath brought the story to life with minimal but eloquent objects. I had a bit of pregame instruction in lighting; enough to let me know Lighting Designer Laura J Wiley used them adroitly. The special lighting of the first murder was both powerful and poignant.

Fight Choreographer Maya Vinice Prentiss, with Assistant Stephanie Mattos and Fight Captain Hazel Monson, collaborated to make each fight purposeful. Intimacy Designer Jennifer L Michelson with Intimacy Captain Shane Richlen made every touch, every kiss, tell its own story. The effectiveness of Sound Designer Kiera Battles’ music is best described by saying I didn’t hear it; it simply wove itself into and through the action. This production would have been an ordeal for any but the best Stage Manager. Happily, Esau Andaleon rose to the challenge magnificently.

I’ve saved my fave for last: Jennifer Mohr’s costumes were absolutely sensational! Elizabethan Burlesque is the best descriptor for her masterful compilations of velvet trunkhose, starched linen ruffs, and brocade doublets with fishnet stockings and high-heeled boots. And Bosolo’s hair! – I can’t describe it, you’ll just have to go see it for yourself. The overall effect was garish, incongruous, disquieting – and perfect!

Best of all, of course, were the actors, who acted through the script so effectively that words were barely necessary. Yasko (Bosolo) absolutely rocked my world -- not surprising, as her 10 years with BWBTC have given her prodigious expertise on and behind the stage. Richlen (Ferdinand) underwhelmed in the first act but Act Two gave him the material he needed to shine. I absolutely loved Monson as Delia, that devoted friend. Wagener-Sobrero’s Cardinal was the only time I’ve seen a Bible wielded as a weapon! and not just a bludgeon, mind.

I loved absolutely everything but the play itself, which would definitely have benefited from judicious editing. But Webster has been dead four centuries so rewrite is a no-go. It takes a genius to make a mess into a masterpiece, and the Babes totally nailed it!

Very highly recommended, "The Duchess of Malfi" runs through October 21 at The Factory Theatre, 1623 W Howard Street in Chicago.