Items filtered by date: November 2007

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The story of the aftermath of the U.S. involvement in the Vietnam War has been told and retold, but never in such a lively and colorful manner as Vietgone, now playing at the Writers Theatre in Glencoe.

Written with the insight and perspective of a first-generation millennial, the play by Qui Nguyen gives us a fresh take not only on the story, but on storytelling and dramatic style and structure – a work that is part musical, part performance piece, all of it fitting for our era of Hamilton-style historical drama. Directed beautifully by Lavina Jadhwani, Vietgone features original music and music direction by Gabriel Ruiz, who has gained acclaim in Chicago’s venturesome Teatro Vista’s Ensemble. It features great choreography by Tommy Rapley.

If you feel the story of the Vietnam War has been covered ad nauseum already, you will be immensely surprised and entertained by this take from a group of people who were most directly affected the fallout of the event – Vietnamese who were hurriedly and even chaotically evacuated in April 1975, as South Vietnam’s capital, Saigon, fell to the North Vietnamese forces.

In Vietgone, we meet a series of character “types” – the author himself (who introduces the play as “possibly true”); also his father; and a young woman who plans to thrive on her new found freedom; her opportunistic middle-aged mother, who hopes to find romance, and to avoid learning English; U.S. soldier who falls for a Vietnamese girl; even a racist biker who stands in for the legions of Americans who had trouble laying down enmity against their Asian enemies after decades of war against the North Vietnamese Communist regime.

One character, a South Vietnamese army pilot, desperately wants to return to his wife and two young children. But if he does, he will likely be punished as a war criminal by the victors from Hanoi. Nguyen forthrightly addresses such stories of individual suffering and the culture clashes that ensued for these sudden transplants whose families and way of life were abruptly torn asunder.

But Nguyen also conveys the joy that was discovered in contemporary American rhythm and blues and rock and funk and dance as these individuals found their way. From this grounding springs an entrancing musical experience. Lyrics to the songs are rapped clear as a bell, with some songs “nearly sung” quite delightfully. This entrancing musical performance overlay may belie the darker aspects of the deeply powerful story that it also conveys. But the form brings us into the work so we can receive that story.

Vietgone centers its tale on the initial phase of evacuation, 130,000 South Vietnamese who were transported to via Guam into the United States, landing at resettlement camps at four military bases: Fort Chaffee in Arkansas, Camp Pendleton in California, Fort Indiantown Gap in Pennsylvania, and Eglin Air Force Base in Florida. Nearly two million more people followed them in separate exoduses, settling at points around the globe under U.N. auspices. 

Along with telling the story of that first cohort, Qui Nguyen introduces us to numerous memorable characters, whose background and personalities stay with us following the show. To have established so many individuals so vividly and concretely is quite an impressive accomplishment - all to the credit of this sterling cast. Standouts are Aurora Adachi-Winter as Tong and Matthew C. Yee as Quang. 

Vietgone is highly recommended. It runs through September 23 at Writers Theatre. 

*Extended through September 29th

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

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

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

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

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

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

*Extended through December 2nd

I am new to Guy King. But I caught him at Blues Fest doing a solo set and was knocked out. He is all about the Blues with a heavy dose of Jazz and Soul. Wanted to hear more, I got a chance to check out him with his band at SPACE in Evanston Monday night. I was very impressed.

King was born in Israel but made his way to Chicago. His repertoire seems pretty broadly based. I hear so many varied influences in his playing and song choices. King is a multi-talented individual. I am not sure what is actually better, his voice or his guitar playing.

King’s voice seems to run the range of the deep Blues to Ray Charles. His style is very polished. I can’t believe I never really heard of him before seeing him at Blues Fest. Maybe I did but dismissed the name because it sounds like he just combined the names of two Blues legends. Perhaps his name could possibly serve against his success. What’s in a name? Well, first impressions are everything and sometimes that works for or against you. Having said that, I think he will do well in this business.

His guitar playing is top notch, and man, can he phrase! I never found him to repeat himself all that much, as he displayed a great vocabulary of chords. I hear a lot of Wes Montgomery voicings in his music. King also uses his thumb instead of a pick ala Montgomery. That may seem like a limitation, but the tone you get by doing that is much warmer than using a pick.

King’s band was great, and they had to be keeping up with a such a gifted performer. One very solid drummer, one adventurous bass player and a great keys player kept the music flowing. Nobody stepped on anyone else’s toes. It was clearly King’s show. A very nice balance of dynamics kept his fans reeled in. I plan on seeing his act again when I can. It would be interesting to see him with his Little Big Band. King turned out to be a really nice guy, too. I said hello to him after the show and he was quite approachable. That is always a good thing. Like I always say, go support live music whenever you can. It is much better in person.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The theater was clad in every hue of pink your eyes have ever seen: baby pink, fuschia, blush, rose, peach, flamingo, ballet slipper, I didn't know that was an official color until an audience member corrected me (I googled it, she's right). My husband and I did not get the memo and dressed our family in yellows and blues of summer. We should have known better. This was Pinkalicious after all, the dress code was not subtly implied. Luckily my daughter sported her pink unicorn shirt and her enthusiastic bouncing in her seat more than made up for the faux pas. After some technical difficulties and an announcement from the director the pinktastic, pinkeriffic, pinktacular show began.

Adapted form the beloved series of children's book by Victoria and Elizabeth Kann, Pinkalicious tells the story of Pinkalicious Pinkerton, a young girl with a penchant for pink cupcakes. Her parents warn her about the dangers of eating too many sweets, but her hunger can't be stopped. One morning she wakes up with pink hair, pink skin and pink clothes - yes, she's come down with pinkititis! It's up to her family to teach her moderation, and get her back to her normal color.

This play was surprisingly enjoyable. The Marriott theater's talented ensemble provided the perfect blend of professional acting combined with the laissez faire air of live children's theater. In short, they don't take themselves too seriously. While the beginning of the play post tech issues was a bit over the top, the lead too fake and utilizing a sickly too high-pitched fake kid's voice, the cast eventually settled into their roles, interacted more with the audience, and performed the second half with an ease and lightness that wasn't forced. The play also incorporated heavier themes like how boys can like pink too, and wove a unique story into the story with catchy numbers like “I got the pink blues,” and “Buzz Off.” At times it was the parents laughing more than the children, which only  the best children's shows can pull off. Overall, the overtly cute gave way to an adorable and simple story filled with good lessons and some one-liners we can repeat to our kids to continually reinforce good habits. That's right, you get what you get and you don't get upset kiddo!

This family friendly musical, which teaches the value of family and healthy living, is an enormous hit. It took off on Off-Broadway and their tour is quickly becoming a local theatre favorite. Every playdate and park trip has someone raving about it as much, if not more, than Hamilton. So get your seats today and  just remember dressing up in pink is highly encouraged! The tour plays Marriott Theatre in Lincolnshire, IL, until August 19, 2018. Tickets can be purchased at http://www.marriotttheatre.com/show/pinkalicious.

Stacy Keach storms the stage for one of the best performances ever, as he takes on the role of author Earnest Hemingway in Pamplona at Goodman Theatre.

This world premier at Goodman was originally planned for Spring 2017, but Keach fell ill opening night and the full run was suspended until now. Clearly the delay has only enhanced his delivery, as Keach commands our non-stop attention in this one-act by Jim McGrath.

Set in 1959, we meet Hemingway holed up in a hotel (it would be the Hotel Quintana) in Pamplona, Spain – the site of the famous running of the bulls – faced with writers block as he struggles to finish a 90,000-word piece on bull fighting for Life magazine. Anyone who has been challenged in writing will recognize how playwright Jim McGrath captures those patterns of distraction and stimulation used to release the story.

Hemingway was an accomplished journalist who very well knew how to pound out the words on deadline. But in the lonelier pursuit of making art, it’s a different matter.

Hemingway indeed struggled to complete his first creative works and determined to let the pressure build until the real work came - ultimately yielding a new style if fiction writing, and a model for stylish manliness that American males widely adopted down to his haircut and sweaters.

In Pamplona, Hemingway tries to boost himself by reading aloud his letter thanking the Nobel Prize Committee for the 1954 award he received following publication of The Old Man and the Sea. He plays loud swing and jazz on the radio and phonograph. His back pain distracts him, and he inventories his bottles of prescription drugs, finding the one for pain. He considers taking a drink but stays away, knowing that will lead him astray – he has asked hotel staff not to bring him liquor.

Though Keach works alone on the stage, there are several characters introduced via his phone and sounding through the walls of his room – further distractions from his work. His lawyer calls with the news of taxes due. The hotel desk clerk calls frequently, despite orders that Hemingway not be disturbed, as a guest in the next room repeatedly complains of noise. On one level, the plot of the play revolves around that unseen and unnamed guest. We later learn he had specifically requested the room next to Hemingway. Who is this unseen force messing with Hemingway’s mind?

By injecting this abstraction into the play, McGrath transcends the level of a purely biopic storyline, just as Hemingway did with in his own works: beyond the literal surface of stories about an old fisherman, or a young matador, the characters are encountering their mortality and facing down death.

Keach and McGrath worked together for years on the development of this play, and it seems to embrace the continued scholarship into the forces that shaped and wound Hemingway’s outlook. So that audiences will have enough detail to follow, one-person plays by necessity have the performer delivering all their own background exposition – a requirement that may not always be in keeping with the character.

In this case, McGrath has balanced that demand well, and Keach captures the big blustery and frankly theatrical quality of Hemingway, who was by most accounts this blustery, larger than life figure we see on the stage. Hemingway's monologs of self-deprecation over his failed marriages and his neglect to aid his own ailing father, somehow seem natural, Keach convincingly makes Hemingway sound like he is "thinking aloud." (Keach also won a Golden Globe for playing the role of Hemingway in a 1988 TV mini-series.) 

Directed nimbly by Robert Falls, with sets by Kevin Depinet, Pamplona is a chance to see an actor truly in his element and delivering an enthralling performance. It runs through August 19 at the Goodman Theatre, and may be the very best show on stage in Chicago.

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

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

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

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

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

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

For many, Ann Landers, the famous advice columnists behind the ever popular “Ask Ann Landers”, was thought to have the perfect life. After all, how could one dishing out advice to so many on so many subjects have any problems of her own? Well, after years of writing marital advice for countless who sought her advice – and millions who read it, “Eppie” Lederer, a.k.a. Ann Landers, was facing her own divorce after a 33-year run. Her toughest assignment to date - writing a column to her loyal followers, the many that revered her as a marriage authority, that her own marriage had fallen apart.

“The Lady with all the Answers” performed at Munster’s Theater at the Center stars Janet Ulrich Brooks as the edgy, but very together, columnist. Set in her Chicago apartment on Lake Shore Drive in 1975, the audience is invited into Eppie’s living room as the famous columnist shares stories about the advice she has given over the years – some from questions quite funny such as which way the toilet paper roll should be dispensed – over the top or from under. Brooks talks to us as though we are her personal guests, interacting with crowd members from time to time. Five minutes into the one-person play, we feel as comfortable as we would in a friend or family member’s home. The play centers around Landers' own conflicts while addressing a letter to her own readers on her marriage failure while holding on to her reader's trust of a relationship guru. Throughout the two-act play, we not only see Landers' compassion for others, but also the honesty that has held her in such high regard. 

“Eppie” talks to us about the many years of providing advice but also touches on her stances, considered unpopular at the time, as a proponent of pro-abortion and gay rights. Likeable, direct, and humorous Brooks commands the stage as “Ann Landers”, who wrote the column “Ask Ann Landers” from 1955 through 2002. Brooks is so engaging as the columnist I could have personally listened to her for hours, never a dull moment to be had, her stories as charming as their delivery.

“I’m tickled I get to play this wonderful woman who devoted a career to understanding people and doing her absolute best to help them,” Brooks said. “I feel as though I grew up with Ann Landers in my home through my mother’s sharing of columns she found funny or helpful or as a conversation starter at the dinner table. She was always very informative.”

Larry Wyatt directs this truly entertaining event wherein Brooks gives an inspiring performance as the advice columnist who was never afraid to weigh in on taboo subjects such as sex. “The Lady with all the Answers” also provides outsiders with a terrific insight as to Landers personal life so that we can appreciate not only her humor and with, but also her genuine desire to heal relationships in need and provide comfort and guidance to those who desperately sought her help. Yes, Esther "Eppie" Pauline Friedman Lederer, a.k.a. 'Ann Landers' was an extraordinary woman and Brooks is nothing less than outstanding in giving us the gift of being her confidants for 90 thoroughly enjoyable minutes.

Janet Ulrich Brooks is magnificent in every sense of the word and is a joy to watch as the beloved, cutting edge advice columnist. At the same time, the creative team of Angela Weber Miller, Denise Karczewski and Michael J. Patrick bring Eppie’s LSD apartment to life with the perfect touches of the 1970’s while Brenda Winstead and Kevin Barthel leave no detail unattended in putting together America’s household name columnist.

Highly recommended.

"The Lady with all the Answers" is being performed at Theater at the Center through August 12th. For tickets and/or more show information, visit www.theateratthecenter.com.

Penelope Skinner’s latest play, Linda, now receiving its United States Premiere at Steep Theatre, begins with the title character’s plea that attention must be paid…to women of a certain age. The seemingly inconsequential references to King Lear, Death of a Salesman and other tragic male protagonists become progressively more resonant as Linda (rivetingly portrayed by Kendra Thulin), accustomed to being the protagonist of her of life, fights for relevance and “visibility” as she finds herself being pushed to the margins both professionally and personally. Meanwhile, several characters make the case for irrelevance and invisibility. The questions raised by Skinner’s play are both timeless and timely, and she covers a lot of ground in its two and a half hours. Under Robin Witt’s direction, Linda is a scathing examination of the values of contemporary society and the impact that success has on those who strive for it. Linda is both entertaining and infuriating, Shakespearian in scope, and painfully human to its core. In a Chicago theater season that features several plays with middle aged characters trying to remain consequential in a youth-focused society, Linda confronts the issue through an unsparing lens that may make you want to look away, but if you don’t, your attention will be rewarded.

Linda is a senior brand manager at a cosmetics company called Swan Beauty Corporation, not to be confused with another company with an avian appellation, which is rolling out a new anti-aging cream. The author of the highly successful earlier “Real Beauty” campaign, which combined beauty products and self-esteem program, Linda’s marketing idea is “Visibility,” which would focus on women over 50. 25-year-old Amy has a counter-proposal based on her own experience, targeting women in their 20’s and 30’s who may be seeing, and fearing, the first hints of lines and crows’ feet: “Hi, Beautiful.” Amy has been inspired by Linda, but also sees her as a hurdle on her way to achieving her well-mapped life goals: marry by age 26, career well underway by age 29, two children shortly thereafter (because any later and neither her body nor her career will ping back). Amy is pragmatic, ruthless, terrified and terrifying. Making decisions about both of these women’s futures is Dave, who condescends, cuts off and mansplains while extolling his understanding of women. Drifting in and out of the office is Luke, a cheeky, gossipy temp, biding his time before running off to join an intentional community of people who share his belief that everything is an illusion. Linda’s hard-earned reality also includes two daughters. Alice, 25, is struggling to get over a viral photo incident that left her too visible and derailed her plans for a career in engineering. Bridget, 15, has a big audition for a drama academy coming up, and is trying to figure out how to stand out from the crowd, to say nothing of getting noticed by her career-obsessed mother and internet-surfing father. Husband Neil has just started a band, with a younger, attractive frontwoman, Stevie.

Director Robin Witt again demonstrates her ability to let no one off the hook, in a production that ranges from hilarious to heartrending to queasy. As we watch the events of Linda spiral out of control, the layers of complicity become almost nauseatingly clear. On a sleek set by Joe Schermoly (nothing comfortable or homey in this home that Linda has worked so many decades to create), under the harsh, sharply-focused lights by Brandon Wardell, and immersed in the portentous sound design by designer/composer Thomas Dixon, there is no softening of the realities the characters face. Costume designer Izumi Inaba perfectly captures the generational and motivational differences of the players. Props designers Emma Cullimore and Derik Marcussen add the minimal trappings of lives lived in spaces focused on mind and body—no one is responsible for the creation of anything tangible in this world, though they are capable of building and destroying lives.

As Linda, the award-winning executive who is about to be confronted with her legacy in a way she never anticipated, Kendra Thulin delivers a remarkable performance, teetering on the knife edge of a breakdown as she struggles to hang on to everything she has worked for since her early 20’s. Her Linda is certainly not always likeable—she is deliberately unapologetic and sometimes cruel as she tries to be the parent she believes her daughters need, and she is as relentless as those who are trying to unsettle her. As her nemesis and successor Amy, Rochelle Therrien is deliciously awful, but also reveals the fear that propels Amy as she claws her way to the top, belittling others to make herself look better. Destini Huston captures the pain that Linda’s daughter carries from being trapped in a past that she is not allowed to forget, and from being told to “get over it” when no one else is held accountable. Watching Huston’s Alice find another way to deal with her viral fame is both excruciating and hopeful. Caroline Phillips deserves credit simply for her performance as spectator, as 15-year-old Bridget watches the adults around her struggle to maintain their grip on their lives, but she goes well beyond this as she struggles to find her role—literally and figuratively--and get noticed by her parents and the auditors at the drama school where she is auditioning. Peter Moore’s schoolteacher Neil conveys the nice guy qualities that all the other people around him admire while showing his discomfiture with the rock and roll life he is trying on. Lucy Carpetyan’s Stevie, the lead singer/groupie in Neil’s rock band, is coming to terms with not being either Linda or Neil, as she tries to become relevant in her own life. Omer Abbas Salem is maddening and thoroughly charming as Luke, who proves that, with the right attitude, consequences can be for others. As he glibly touches the lives of those he meets, exacerbating their existential struggles, his idea that “everything is just as it should be” if one just lets go of one’s data becomes more than a little compelling. Finally, belying Linda’s belief in her “changing the world one girl at a time” campaign, is evidence that change is a long time coming, in the smug, self-satisfied and casually menacing portrayal by Jim Poole of company president Dave, who still holds all the cards, even if a few women have breached the board room.

Linda is a startling and pointed indictment of first world problems, from the need to remain visible and relevant even if one is not Helen Mirren, to the superficial measures of success that we choose, to the right to privacy that is too easily invaded. Playwright Penelope Skinner offers no easy answers for the mess people have gotten themselves into as she throws the spotlight onto Linda, who at first appears to be the apex of a new social order but ends up being vulnerable to the forces she helped unleash. The play touches on the many ways people find to diminish each other—age, gender, class, career, beauty—and ultimately suggests we may be focusing on the wrong things. Robin Witt and a uniformly strong ensemble, led by a poised yet emotionally raw Kendra Thulin, tackle the layered text with intelligence and wry humor, capturing the unmet potential and alienation of our ultra-exposed, ultra-networked modern lives.

Linda runs through August 18 at Steep Theatre, 1115 West Berwyn, Thursdays – Saturdays at 8:00 pm and Sundays at 3:00 pm. For more information and tickets visit www.steeptheatre.com or call 773-649-3186.

*Extended through September 1st