Items filtered by date: November 2007

Lights come down at the top of the show. We are clearly in a rehearsal hall as the ensemble lets us know that it’s opening night of William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet – and they cannot be more excited to perform the material. Video and Projection Designer Andrezej Goulding helps guide the audience to the right time and place with images at the back of the stage representing Elizabethan England. Costume Designer Paloma Young dresses the actors with an impressive nod to the traditional. As they prepare for the opening number, Lighting Designer Howard Hudson zooms in on the cast with radiant color as they slowly move center stage. Fans in the audience may recognize the familiar starting notes of the song, but if not, the lyrics are likely to help fully draw you in:

“All you people can’t you see, can’t you see.
How your love’s affecting our reality.
Every time we’re down, you can make it right.
And that makes you larger than –“

William Shakespeare (Corey Mach) runs on stage to continue the song as this particular performance’s audience goes wild. &Juliet is a jukebox musical of iconic pop songs, and Max Martin (the talented creative behind Music and Lyrics) and book writer David West Read waste no time throwing us in with one of the famous throwbacks from the Backstreet Boys – “Larger than Life.” As the ensemble performed Jennifer Weber’s choreography, this audience felt one step away from jumping on their feet to dance along. The overall feel is like that of a pop concert, and the energy only heightens from there.

Directed by Luke Sheppard, & Juliet takes place on the opening night of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. As the cast prepares to rehearse the ending, his wife, Anne (Teal Wicks) unravels everything with a twist. What if Juliet didn’t end it all over Romeo but instead, went on living? What if the famous love story actually began with Romeo’s death, and instead created an opportunity for Juliet to go out and experience life? As Shakespeare and Anne co-write (and argue over) the new story, we are invited along on the journey as Juliet (Rachel Simone Webb) sees the world through new eyes – even inviting Anne and Shakespeare to learn a little something about their relationship along the way.

To say that Sheppard’s ensemble is full of stellar performers is an understatement. Each actor carried a vocal belt that rang from the rafters as they brought the boppy score to life. Pop fans will recognize a number of the hits including “Since U Been Gone,” “I Want it That Way,” “Domino,” “Roar,” and “It’s My Life.” Particularly when combined with Weber’s choreography and the vibrant design scheme, you might just find yourself sitting on the edge of your seat – afraid you will miss something if you so much as blink.

Michael Canu and the company of the North American Tour of & JULIET.

As much as the musical feels like a pop concert with high energy and fast-paced music, you might find that a large part of what sells the show is the heart – particularly as Anne learns to find her voice alongside Juliet.  

In an effort to find agency, Anne writes herself into the story as one of Juliet’s best friends – helping her along as she gets over Romeo and finds new life in Paris, France. When Juliet finds herself in the middle of a major romantic decision, Anne sits her down and shares her own story. Her marriage to Shakespeare has never been easy, and she has to navigate the highs and lows of that every day. 

The two begin to sing Celine Dion’s “That’s the Way it Is” – which is quite the tonal shift. In contrast to the larger-than-life choreography and light show from earlier, Sheppard pairs it down – focusing on the two women simply sitting in chairs at the center of the stage. We are left with little more than the actors themselves and their stunning vocals – filled with the heartbreaking emotion of the moment. If you’re anything like this writer, you may even find yourself moved to tears – watching these two women empower each other to not only move on, but also aim for better.

Full of jaw-dropping talent and creative pizazz, & Juliet is a theatrical event that leaves you wanting more. Especially for those who grew up listening to the pop sensations of the Backstreet Boys and Brittany Spears, the musical is sure to thrust you into nostalgia.

Run Time: 2 hours and 40 minutes, with intermission

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

& Juliet runs through December 15 at the Cadillac Palace Theatre – 151 W Randolph St. See the Broadway in Chicago website for more information regarding tickets.

Immediately following the gastronomical excesses of Thanksgiving are the monetary investments and personal sacrifices we make for Christmas.  At the heart of both is family and the importance we place in coming together to sustain and strengthen seminal bonds. 

In 1931, a 34-year-old college professor at the University of Chicago took the long view of these ritual gatherings and focused on what they look and feel like over time.  In his beautifully crafted one act play, The Long Christmas Dinner, Thornton Wilder also manages to deliver an incisive and sobering treatise on time and its fleeting fragility.  What he does so exquisitely in the 26 pages of his script is to point us in the direction of using that time most fully and appreciatively.  Chicago’s TUTA Theatre, who “searches for the unique and exceptional in the language of theatre”, has generously brought this rarely produced treasure to the stage at the sparkling new Bramble Arts Loft in Andersonville for the Christmas season.

Wilder has the prosperous Bayard family act as proxies for all families and takes us with him as he visits them experiencing Christmas dinners that span the course of 90 years and four generations.  He pays close attention to how the family interacts and the way they voice convictions, concerns and priorities.  In many ways, perhaps in all ways, they’re a very typical and intrinsically familiar family.  That notion becomes more and more entrenched as the play progresses.  When it opens, Lucia (Alexis Primus) is about to welcome her mother-in-law, Mother Bayard (Joan Merlo), to the dinner table of her new home.  Her husband, Roderick (Matt Miles) leads the family firm and is the classic head of the house as seen in the era.  Proud of his wife, his mother and his success, he glows with the light of the supremely satisfied.   Although wheelchair bound, Mother Bayard’s vibrant mind and observant eye reveal a robust inner vitality.  It’s her penchant for too frequently repeating how clearly she remembers seeing Indians in the streets during her youth and riding rafts across the Mississippi that hint at the creeping cognitive malaise common found in the aging.

Although rather formal by today’s standards, you can still easily recognize that beneath the rituals of decorum the family practices in their interactions that there is a true closeness of hearts. You feel how sacrosanct kinship is to them. Still, the circle of life encompasses families just as it does individuals.  We are born and we die.  And it’s the way that The Long Christmas Dinner treats these events that make us evaluate ourselves and our relationships with our own families.

The entire play occurs around a stately dining table in the middle of the stage.  Laden with gleaming silverware and China, the luxurious Oriental carpet it rests on and the elegant linear chandelier floating above it are the few things that will remain unchanged.  Two dimly lit doorways, one on the left and the other on the right of the stage, represent the ending and beginning of life, respectively.  Keith Parham’s quietly graceful set surreptitiously becomes its own character.   Stoic and impassive as it witnesses transitions through each doorway.   His lighting design would go on to memorably propel and enhance the dramatic impact of the play. 

Watching the arch of Uncle Branden’s presence was particularly impactful. Full of life, song and playful mischief, he was such a bright light when he first came to dinner.  Assuredly played by Wain Parham, he began to change when Roderick, his cousin, fell victim to his excesses in drink.  Branden’s silence began to grow when Roderick later passed through the doorway symbolizing death.  As he watched Roderick and Lucia’s children, Charles (Huy Nguyen) and Genevieve (Charlie Irving) grow, his warmth remained, but his effervescence and spontaneity notably faded until he too slowly drifted through the portal on the left.

As new generations of Bayard’s are born, explosions of joy and happiness are plentiful on the right where nurses dressed in immaculate white emerge through the passageway cradling babies who soon grow to teenagers and adults.   Often bearing the names of those who proceeded them, old names become new again and we can’t avoid noticing the cyclicality of existence.  Rather than a crown denoting succession, among the Bayard women a shawl becomes the item that chronicles the passage and toll of time.  Used to keep aging shoulders warm, it symbolizes both the inevitable and the blessing of continuity.   That same continuity can be heard when certain random phrases and observations are made by each successive generation that none had heard spoken before by someone else in the family.

Rifts, discord and the realities of life erupt in this very respectable family as they can and do in all.  Stifled by family expectations and the limitations of living in a small town, Charles’ son, Roderick II (Matt Miles) bolts to California when confronted about his drinking and lack of interest in familial responsibilities.  Charles and his wife Leonora (Seoyoung Park) had already lost a son during the first World War and their second son’s departure marked a crippling blow.  As we’re reminded by numerous characters throughout the play, time may not heal grief, but it soothes sufficiently to ease its pain and weight.  When Joan Merlo reappears as distant cousin, Ermengarde, that kind of wisdom flows with the power of rushing rapids.  A highly accomplished craftsman, Merlo’s phrasings of speech were transfixing as she wrapped the profound in tiny pellets of simplicity.  Her gleam of excellence ran through the entire cast, who were uniformly splendid. 

Most impressive was the meticulous pacing and abundance of satisfying nuance director and TUTA co-artistic director, Jacqueline Stone, built into the production.  She insured small gestures resonated with unexpected force and light touches of humor glittered brightly enough to make the project shine with warmth and contemporary flair.

In a time and landscape where holiday entertainment options are virtually endless, The Long Christmas Dinner counts as an especially rewarding option from a company who has a knack for curating works of discreet brilliance.

The Long Christmas Dinner

Through December 29^th, 2024

TUTA Theatre Company

Venue:  Bramble Arts Loft

5545 N. Clark Street

Chicago, IL  60640

https://www.tutatheatre.org/the-long-christmas-dinner-tickets

“No man is a failure who has friends,” is to film what “God bless us everyone” is to literature. Frank Capra’s 1946 film ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ is as close to an American retelling of ‘A Christmas Carol’ as anyone has ever gotten.

Though the film has been a Christmas classic for nearly 80 years, the stage version has become its own tradition for many theatergoers during the holiday season. It’s likely you can find a production of the stage version in practically any town in the country during December, right next to ‘The Nutcracker.’ For those unfamiliar, the stage version is traditionally performed as a “live radio broadcast.” Meaning, the actors play voice actors performing a “live” production of a radio play, including old-timey sound effects.

American Blues Theater has been bringing this tradition to Chicago for 23 years! They’ve turned their new permanent home on Lincoln Ave into a quaint, 1940s era radio studio for the month. Audiences get a glimpse into the past and in addition to learning the true meaning of Christmas, they’ll see how radio dramas were produced. 

An all-around great cast led by Brandon Dahlquist and Audrey Billings brings the story of suicidal, down-on-his-luck George Bailey to life in a quick, charming 90-minute production. The cast will certainly help you get into the spirit with a few rounds of Christmas carols before the show gets going.

What really works about this interpretation of ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ is that it gets right to the point. Parts of Capra’s black and white film feel a bit drawn out, and that can distract from the heartbreaking and bittersweet moments in the script. Here, emotion is mined in a more immediate way. However, for those who have not seen the film, this version is pretty easy to follow.

Whether you’ve seen ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ once, or 22 times, each year American Blues Theater makes it feel new. Year to year faces change and little embellishments are added, so that it always feels fresh for a new generation.

Through December 22 at American Blues Theater. 5627 N Lincoln Ave. (773) 654-3103.

Steppenwolf's cozy downstairs theater provided the ideal setting for an evening of outstanding and expressive dance by the highly acclaimed Season 47 Fall Series by Hubbard Street Dance Company.

The performance began with Aszure Barton's “return to patience,” featuring the entire company uniformly dressed in simple, gray and pale blue loose-fitting attire, defying gravity by leaning into space rather than onto each other. The piece masterfully captures a sense of restless animation striving for contemplative serenity, achieving this balance beautifully. (Set to Caroline Shaw’s “Gustave Le Gray,” an adaptation of Chopin’s gentle “Mazurka in A Minor, Op. 17, No. 4”).

The second piece, a solo performance titled “Show Pony” (2018, HSDC premiere 2023), danced by Shota Miyoshi, stands in stark contrast to “return to patience.” Clad in a formfitting, shiny gold Vegas Elvis jumpsuit, Miyoshi's performance is spectacular. He is literally spotlighted with beautiful lighting by Dan Scully that appears and disappears, as he dominates the stage. The term “Show Pony” perfectly encapsulates Miyoshi's confident and explosive dancing.

Lar Lubovitch’s “Prelude to a Kiss” (2005, HSDC 2023) is a romantic delight, danced superbly by Alexandria Best and Elliot Hammans with palpable chemistry. The couple's dance and flirtation are mesmerizing, with Best sometimes hanging from Hammans' arms like an exquisite butterfly. Their duet is mesmerizing and romantic, culminating in a breathtaking moment as Hammans gently removes the shoulder straps from Best's gown, one at a time, and plants a single, masterful kiss on the exposed nape of her neck.

In “Sweet Gwen Suite”, Cyrie Topete, Dominick Brown, and Aaron Choate dazzle in wildly sexy, bedazzled leather and Mexican-style form-fitting pants and bolero jackets, with costumes designed by Bobby Pearce. This number by Bob Fosse and Gwen Verdon exudes sass, flair, and self-confidence. Brown and Choate support lead dancer Cyrie Topete, who shines in what feels like a near-solo performance. Topete makes every gesture count, from smoking and extinguishing her cigarette with a sexy twist of her leather boot toe, to the defiant lift of her chin and single smile at the end, like a victorious matador. The act was set to Herb Alpert & Tijuana Brass’ “Mexican Shuffle,” Lola Schiffrin’s “Cool Hand Luke,’ and “Mexican Breakfast” by Johnny Mandel.

Hubbard Street Dance Chicago in 'BUSK' by Aszure Barton.

Hubbard Street Dance Chicago’s opening night of the company’s Season 47 Fall Series was graced by the presence of Nicole, the daughter of Bob Fosse and Gwen Verdon. HSDC proudly became the first company to collaborate with the Verdon/Fosse Legacy to showcase Fosse's work. As a longtime admirer of Verdon/Fosse-inspired dance, this collaboration brought their iconic style to life in a thrilling and deeply satisfying way.

In the show’s final act, “Busk” by Aszure Barton opens with Elliot Hammans sleeping on the street, transforming into a character reminiscent of Buster Keaton, complete with hat and cane. Hammans' wonderfully expressive face enhances his dance performance, as he is joined by a cast of street people. Their movements range from defiant leaps to huddled masses, pleading for help with outstretched arms, their faces conveying profound sadness, struggle, and desperation. Random vocalizations are also used by the dancers, which really add to the already stunning piece. The entire dance company is involved in what is the perfect finale.

I highly recommend this incredible and passionate selection of dance performances, including the collaboration with the Gwen Verdon Bob Fosse Legacy, for audiences of all ages. The Hubbard Street Dance Chicago dancers are uniquely gifted and each piece so mesmerizing, making it difficult to pick a favorite number. The company’s Season 47 Fall Series, beautifully staged at Steppenwolf’s Downstairs Theatre, was truly a night of dance you and your family and friends will never forget.

For more information on Hubbard Street Dance Chicago’s current and upcoming performances, visit https://www.hubbardstreetdance.com/.  

(*Dancers alternate roles in performaces depending on select dates. This review reflects the dancers performing for the specific performance reviewed.) 

I arrived at the Goodman Theatre for the opening of its 47^th annual production of A Christmas Carol, directed by Jessica Thebus, like many of us—not really feeling the upcoming holidays. I’m usually a real Pollyanna, trying to put on the happy face. I’m usually Bob Cratchit, the good soldier. I’m Tiny Tim Cratchit, even, throwing around “God bless us, everyone” like it’s tinsel. But not this year. This year, I got to the Goodman feeling like a regular Scrooge. And then I walked into the lobby and the whole thing hit me like a series of middle-of-the-night spectral visits upon a four-poster bed. It changed me.

From the balcony above we were greeted by Benet Academy’s Madrigal Singers, sprinkling down on us carol after carol. Seated next to a large, unlit Christmas tree was William Buchholtz, a Native American flautist and a haunting caroler himself. Thebus, back for her fourth Goodman production of this holiday favorite, addressed the audience, lighting the tree and spreading some cheer—and we hadn’t even found our seats yet.

Once the show began, the sets by Todd Rosenthal transported us back to a different beautiful but bleak era—Dickensian England. All of the trappings one expects of A Christmas Carol are there. Muffed carolers, chestnut peddlers and poultry peddlers, and Scrooge & Marley’s beckoning lending house. There we meet Christopher Donahue’s Ebenezer Scrooge—mutton-chopped and hunched and as unhappy as we expect Scrooge to be. But that darkness, very real and very dark, is constantly counteracted by the radiance of the rest of the cast. Anthony Irons’ Bob Cratchit, cheerful charity collectors played by Penelope Walker and Wai Kim, and Dee Dee Batteast’s ever-loving niece all fend off Scrooge’s glare and gruffness by not even acknowledging his grinchiness—their world, while perhaps less financially happy than Scrooge’s, is a completely separate and better world emotionally than his, down to the vibrant colors of their costumes.

(L-R) Anthony Irons, Christopher Donahue, Ava Rose Doty, Xavier Irons, Henry Lombardo, Isabel Ackerman, Viva Boresi, Tafadzwa Diener and Susaan Jamshidi.

Once back at Scrooge’s house (whose ghastly door knocker made both me and my young daughter jump, even though I knew what was coming) we are surrounded by this bleak world this miserable old miser’s made for himself. It’s drafty and dark and dusty and the perfect place for the jarring arrival of Scrooge’s long-dead partner, Jacob Marley, played by William Dick.

The sights and sounds of Marley’s visit are frightening, even when expected, but they contrast the joy and light spread by the first two spirits who visit Scrooge once Marley departs. Lucky Stiff’s Ghost of Christmas Past is buoyant and bright and over the top—meant to get Scrooge’s attention and ours. The spirit transports us all back in time where our hearts break along with a young Ebenezer Scrooge, portrayed brilliantly by Henry Lombardo, and then leap across the hardwood of Fezziwig’s warehouse-turned-dancehall, only to be broken again by Scrooge’s interaction with his true love played charmingly by Amira Danan. We see all the light Scrooge has lost—and it only makes him and the world he’s created that much darker.

Scrooge’s present is as sad as the present world around him is resolutely jolly, made all the more so by Bri Sudia’s Ghost of Christmas Present. The Cratchit children—Isabel Ackerman, Viva Boresi, Xavier Irons, Tafradzwa Diener, and Ava Rose Doty as Tiny Tim—counter Susaan Jamshidi’s tired and realistic Mrs. Cratchit, just as Batteast does at an evening party attended by other folks who are over it.

While Marley’s ghost was truly terrifying, this Ghost of Christmas Future was less scary and sadder—a dead flower, a faded dowager. But, of course, it’s the specter of a sad future that finally snaps Scrooge out of his life of being a scrooge.

And Donahue’s transformation is very real. We’re all used to a claw-handed and clench-jawed Scrooge from film after film. And we know the change to come—to that of a heel-clicking distributor of charity and cheer. But seeing it happen right there, before our eyes, was as magical an effect as any of the magic on display. A real Christmas miracle.

Now, I have no clue if transforming a Scrooge-like audience was Thebus’ intent (or Dickens’), although I’m sure that’s what both were aiming for. But just like the Victorians who Dickens was addressing, our world today could use some hope and some cheer. And just as Donahue’s Scrooge did onstage, I found myself leaving the Goodman Theatre a little more hopeful and a little more cheerful. I have no idea if you’ll experience the same transformation as I did, but I can promise you that this production of A Christmas Carol, at the Goodman Theatre from now through December 30, will at the very least entertain you and warm your heart this holiday season.

If you’re looking for a way to entertain the children (or grandchildren) this holiday season that doesn’t involve long lines, icy cold temps or going to the mall, look no further than the Greenhouse Theatre Center’s production of Mo Williams’ smash hit musical, “Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus.”

After two years of successful productions aimed largely at school groups, the Young People’s Theatre of Chicago is transitioning from an intermural Greenhouse Theatre Center project to a stand-alone, professional children’s theatre. And just in time for the Thanksgiving Day weekend, the YPT is kicking off its inaugural season with the return of William’s beloved and beleaguered Pigeon, in his own adaptation of his best-selling Caldecott Honor Award-winning book bearing the same name.

This high-energy hourlong offering of pure silliness and joy is the perfect way to introduce the younger crowd to the magic of live theatre. From the very beginning, as the woebegone Pigeon pops out from the windows of the cleverly engineered and colorful set to lament over his tedious days, kids are immediately engaged in the unfolding story.

Pigeon is skillfully brought to life by YPT veteran Brade Bradshaw as a hand-and-rod styled puppet in the technique first showcased in the Broadway hit Avenue Q. In fact, all the puppets were built and designed by Rick Lyon, the puppeteer designer for Avenue Q. The combination of performer and puppet are so seamless that at some point you forget that Pigeon is a puppet.

Bradshaw is joined onstage by another YPT veteran, Karla Seretto, who shines as the indomitable bus-driving Bus Driver. With her “officially official” cap and dedication to her job, you never doubt that her main passion in life is to drive her bus and never be late. Also returning to the YPT stage are the talented Tamsen Glaser as the Duckling and Bus Engine, and Marquis Bundy as Teenage. They are joined by experienced Chicago actors Jake Elkins as the Hot Dog Vendor and Businessman, and the hilarious Dakota Hughes as the Little Old Lady.  

As his young fans well know, Pigeon never gets to do anything he wants to do. And that’s where the fun begins. In the opening number, Pigeon laments that he never gets to do anything, not even eat a hot dog – which, he claims, is all he really wants to do. Even a visiting Duckling gets a hot dog, but not Pigeon. He’s just told by everyone to “fly away, bird.” What’s a hot-dog loving, adventure-seeking Pigeon to do?

Life changes dramatically for Pigeon when a new bus line opens near Pigeon’s hangout, and he encounters Bus Driver and her brand-new bus. Pigeon is immediately entranced and now the only thing he wants to do is drive the bus! Working up his courage, Pigeon approaches the Bus Driver and sings, “Can I drive the bus?” to which the Bus Driver and all her passengers chorus, “No! Don’t let the pigeon drive the bus.” But when the bus breaks down and the Bus Driver has to find a way to alert the people along the route the bus is running behind, she turns to Pigeon to help her out. Together, Bus Driver helps Pigeon discover his true purpose and dream.

The Greenhouse Theatre is the perfect venue for a younger audience to watch the performance. It’s compact, and with the front row right on the stage, it provides an intimate interaction with the actors. To the absolute delight of the audience, Pigeon goes “flying” through the theatre to alert them that the bus will be late, and they become part of the show as well.

The show got two-thumbs up by my grandchildren, ages 8 and 6, who loved the antics of the Pigeon as he tried his very best to fulfill his dream to drive the bus. But they especially loved the ending when, even after Pigeon discovers his true purpose in life, he spies a plane in the sky and suddenly all he wants to do is “fly the plane.” The entire audience joins in with the cast in the chorus and shout, “No! Don’t let the pigeon fly the airplane!”

There’s something for everyone in the show. I particularly loved Dakota Hughes as the Little Old Lady, who continually threw birdfeed at Pigeon in a well-meaning attempt to give him a treat. (“What is this stuff?” Pigeon indignantly wants to know.) And Tamsen Glaser made a hilarious bus engine with her sputtering and spattering noises as the bus breaks down.

Under Randy White’s astute direction, the action never stops, and the music, composed by Deborah Wicks a Puma, an acclaimed artist in Theatre for Young Audiences, keeps the story moving along, making for a manageable and totally enjoyable theatre experience for children of all ages.

You can catch “Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus” at Lincoln Park’s historic Greenhouse Theatre Center (2257 N. Lincoln Ave.) from Nov. 23-Dec. 22. For ticket information and performance times, visit ytpchi.org.

In 1997, Disney came out with the most magnificent adaptation of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella that has ever been made. With talent like Brandy, Whitney Houston, Bernadette Peters, Jason Alexander, and Paolo Montalban, the rendition of the classic fairytale lives rent free in the minds of most millennials and their parents who endured countless rewatches of the film on The Disney Channel. With the resurgence and fascination of all things 90s, the musical will no doubt be a successful streaming event. The 1997 film managed to do something previous adaptations of the fairytale could not. It captured pure magic. The charm, the wonder, the beauty and enchantment, it was all perfect. Twenty-seven years later, that same charm and enchantment can be found at Marriott Theatre as they perform Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella.

Rodgers & Hammerstein’s Cinderella celebrates the timeless enchantment of the magical fairy tale. It tells the story of a young woman named Cinderella, mistreated by her cruel stepmother and stepsisters, who dreams of a better life and is granted a magical night at a royal ball by her Fairy Godmother, where she falls in love with the Prince, ultimately escaping her harsh reality and finding happiness through a glass slipper left behind at the ball. The classic story of Cinderella at Marriott Theatre follows her quest to attend the Prince’s Ball with a twist of originality, charm and elegance. With a magical, minimalist 360-degree stage, the musical transports a new generation to a miraculous kingdom of dreams-come-true. With great warmth and more than a touch of hilarity, this enthralling fairy tale still warms the hearts of children and adults alike.

Though Cinderella’s story has been told thousands of times over in every conceivable style, Rodgers & Hammerstein’s Cinderella has something special. The musical was originally written for television with music by Richard Rodgers and a book and lyrics by Oscar Hammerstein II. It aired in 1957 with the incomparable Julie Andrews playing the title role. The broadcast was viewed by more than 100 million people, the 1997 adaptation boasted an impressive 60 million. While Marriott Theatre cannot accommodate those numbers, the show continues to entertain sold out crowds. Princes and princesses of all ages gather at the Lincolnshire homestead to hear familiar numbers such as Impossible/It’s Possible, Ten Minutes Ago, and A Lovely Night. Jaeda Lavonne absolutely dazzles as Cinderella, accompanied by a remarkably talented cast to include Marriott darlings Lillian Castillo as the Fairy Godmother and Lorezno Rush Jr. as the King.

Marriott Theatre rounds out their season with this enchanting production, reviving the magic and charm of the musical just in time for the holiday season. Be sure to take your princes and princesses to see it before the stroke of midnight and the end of 2024. Rodgers & Hammerstein’s Cinderella is now playing at The Marriott Theatre (10 Marriott Dr, Lincolnshire) through December 29, 2024, a finer night you know you’ll never see. Tickets are available at www.marriotttheatre.com. 

What the hell is pantomime anyway?  Will I be reviewing a game of Charades?  

Google to the rescue! But I searched in vain for a definition: 

1. pan·to·mime      [ˈpan(t)əˌmīm] a play or entertainment in which performers express themselves mutely by gestures.

PrideArts mounting a silent production? Um …. I find that unlikely in the extreme

2. theatrical entertainment based on a fairy tale and using Slapstick humor, designed for children and family entertainment. 

Has PrideArts become a children’s theatre? A venue for family entertainment?! Oi!  Tell me ain’t so!

3. Pantomime is a production of songs and dancing generally using gender-crossing actors…. 

Aha! That’s more like it!

1. Gender-crossing actors …check!
2. Singing and dancing … check!
3. Based on a fairy story … check!
4. Slapstick humor … check!

Put ‘em together and whaddaya got?  Bibbity Bobbity Boo!

But we can’t expect the internet to do all our work for us. It was time for field research.  So I pulled up my socks and set out for PrideArts Theatre, wherein I found:

All of the above, sans kids. What I was not expecting was the phenomenon of the SLAPSTICK DAME. Wikipedia helped me there: a British  pantomime dame  involves portrayal of female characters by male actors in drag, often in an extremely camp style with heavy makeup and big hair, exaggerated physical features [c’mon Wiki, just say ‘big tits’], performing in an over-the-top style.   

Oh yeah!  NOW we’re on the same page! 

OK, are we good with the definitions now? Let’s get to the freakin’ play!

Nanny Fanny (Neill Kelly), despite appearing in none of the fables, had a lead role in THROBBIN’ WOOD, along with her son Silly Willy (Freddy Mauricio). Every time N.F. came on stage [erm… I mean she mounted … erm …entered the stage] we were expected to.…

… Oh yeah! Forgot to mention – pantomime also requires audience participation. We were instructed to yell: “Spank me, Nanny!” each time Nanny Fanny came on stage [oh dear. I did it again!]. Other characters/situations provoked divers reactions.

There. See? That’s the sort of humor you’ll find in THROBBIN’ WOOD. 

Pantomime is a Brit thing, and you know those Brits and their idea of humor: vulgar puns, dirty double entendre, indecent innuendo, and other forms of vulgar waggery and unseemly buffoonery.  But pantomime requires a bit more than indecorous dialogue, and that’s where the acting comes in! Neill Kelly’s Nanny Fanny was outrageously OTT; her son Willy (Freddie Mauricio) was demonstrably Silly. Bryan Fowler’s Throbbin’ Wood was extremely debonair (though not too bright; but obstetrics was dodgier back then). Kyle Johnson was a perfectly glorious Anal-A-Dale, while Jack Gordon disseminated ecclesiastical good cheer and spiritous libations. I’d sure like to be a fly on the wall during his Confession! 

Don’t forget the Villain: Ryder Dean McDaniel had the perfect eyebrows for the job, and he employed them masterfully, the nefarious rapscallion!

Which brings me to the final Merry Man, Little Jonny (Jackson Anderson). Little Jonny was such a disappointment to me: a damp squid; a flash in the pan; a lead balloon. Mind you don’t misconstrue my meaning here! Jackson Anderson was superb, his character indispensable, and his appearance … mm mm mm. Finger-lickin’ good. BUT he never, not ever, no way, no how, NEVER authenticated his name!  We were told the appellation was chosen due to his extreme modesty, but still I left PrideArts without being allowed to appraise this crucial nominative characteristic personally.

I won’t go into details about the plot, partly to avoid spoilers but primarily because I’m not certain there was one. But here’s the layout:

Silly Willy (Freddy Mauricio) is telling his mum [Spank me!] about joining the Merry Men with Throbbin’ Wood (Bryan Fowler) — quite understandable, for Throbbin’ is tall, handsome, noble, and possesses … well, THROBBIN’ WOOD! What more couldja want???

If this enticement is insufficient, consider his Merry Men:  religieux Triar Fuck (Jack Gordon), renowned archer Anal-a-Dale (Kyle Johnson), and Little Jonnie (Jackson Anderson), of whom we’ve already spoken. See, THROBBIN’ WOOD is kinda like Lord of the Rings in that it features a bountiful cast of strong, handsome, heroic men but is bereft of females … and they consider this a problem!?  Go figure….

One imaginational figment was Fairy Glitterous (Danielle Bahn), who periodically appeared onstage for little apparent reason but to bring glitter, bling, and pink tulle into an otherwise fairly monochromatic set. But that’s OK! Everybody needs a little glitter, bling and pink tulle in their lives.

[NOTE TO DIRECTOR:  give F.G. a bag of glitter with which to shower the audience …yeah? ….no?  just sayin’]

Where was I? ah, the exiguousness of women in THROBBIN’WOOD. So let’s proceed to Maid Marion (Emma Robie), who is a pulchritudinous [isn’t that just the BEST word?!] maiden madly in love with THROBBIN’ WOOD.

Now I just know I’m forgetting someone ….  Oh yeah – we need a villain! The Sherriff is flawlessly depicted by Ryder Dean McDaniel [Boooooooo], who is ardently dedicated to, not solely the despoliation of our hero THROBBIN’ WOOD, but also to the inveiglement of Maid Marion. To this end he consigns her to a dungeon for no more malfeasance than rebuffing his advancements. 

[REVIEWER’S NOTE] I’m unfamiliar with this style of blandishment … unless M.M.is a rope bunny? …

OK, that’s the cast. Let’s slip backstage to congratulate Director Taylor Pasche and Assistant Caitlin Preuss on how skillfully they herded this bagful of cats. The ambience of many a scene was fomented by music (Music Director Chad Gearig) to provoke an appropriate response to each character: e.g. yelling Spank Me! for Nanny Fanny and Boooooo for the Sheriff. The spiritus mundi of the different scenes and characters is likewise imputable to Scenic Designer Hayley Wallenfeldt. The props were managed by Annaleigh Stone; Jen Cupani and Caitlin Preuss directed Choreography, and Costume Director Victoria Jablonski showcased an abundance of Men in Tights for our delectation.

I close this review with: I once asked a dramaturgic friend: “WTF does a Stage Manager actually do?”, to which they responded “Everything”. Corbin Paulino did everything.

THROBBIN’ WOOD is playing at PrideArts THeatre through December 15. 

I RECOMMEND you check it out!

Overall Citadel Theatre’s ‘Dames at Sea’ has a smashingly great cast of singers and dancers, perfect for a musical comedy satirizing the over-the-top 1930s movies and Broadway revues that were light on plot and heavy on costumes, dance routine, and ostrich-feathered pageantry. 

That’s exactly what ‘Dames at Sea’ pokes fun at, but lovingly. It originated in 1966 as an Off-Broadway show that ran for 575 performances, and became the launching vehicle for Bernadette Peters. Set in the early 1930s, its book and lyrics by George Haimsohn and Robin Miller, fittingly for a satire, embody every theater cliche imaginable: A Midwestern chorus girl steps off the bus in Manhattan, falls into a Broadway lead, and rockets to stardom. Plot points are near memes harvested from musical extravaganzas of that decade: The star is sick! What are we gonna do?! The show must go on! Well kid, think you can do it?! What choice does any trouper have?! 

Melody Rowland as Ruby and Beck Hockason as Dick in "Dames at Sea."

Six decades later, it’s still totally fun, the comedy broad, the exposition minimal, because we already know the story. Choreography is great, though heavy on the tap shoes, and lilting, lovely choral singing, to boot.

The melodious score by Jim Wise pairs beautifully with Haimsohn and Miller’s lyrics— every song is original, but they all sound like something you’ve heard before. Conjuring up Cole Porter’s 1935 “When They Begin the Beguine“ is Wise’s “The Beguine,” a deft reflection of the original, played with exaggerated passion in a singing-dancing duet by Mona (Ciara Jarvis) and Captain (Steve McDonagh). Or “That Mister Man of Mine,” which, though different and original, is reminiscent of “Can’t Help Lovin’ Dat Man of Mine” from “Show Boat.”

Ciara Jarvis as Mona in "Dames at Sea."

There are some very good voices in this show: Beck Hockason in the role of sailor Dick; Melody Rowland as Ruby, that Midwestern chorus girl; and McDonagh as Captain. Very much in the Benadette Peters mold is Ciara Jarvis as Mona. Jarvis’s acting chops shows she gets it, and she plays the inside joke to the audience effectively. Jarvis also has a wonderful, rich stage soprano,liltingly beautiful and “she’as easy on the eyes,” as a gaffer might have remarked backstage.

All this is quite wonderful, and we could call the show a great success save for one horrible aspect: sound and music. The cast was well miked, and their voices were great—when we could hear them. Unfortunately the prerecorded orchestration was played at too loud a level, at least on opening night. Rarely could singers get above and beyond it. Even so, a couple numbers succeeded, “The Beguine,” and in Act II, “Raining in My Heart,” featuring restrained musical accompaniment that for the moment was closer to balance with the live singing. 

The recording of the accompanying music was also lacking—just simply unpleasant arrangements. Combined with being too loud, it was not good. Hopefully, sound adjustments are made for future performances. And as to stage and sets, perhaps Citadel will consider relocating to a more accommodating stage. One with a true backstage, or at least the possibility of actual sets. This is merely a high school auditorium, and a wall-sized LED screen is all they’ve got for background.

Were that sound tuned, this show could be somewhat recommended. It seems a shame, with such a professional cast and the investment in licensing of a strong property. “Dames at Sea” plays through December 15, 2024 at Citadel Theatre in Lake Forest, IL.

When Francesca Zambello, director of The Glimmerglass Festival, commissioned an opera about race in America, the country was reeling from a spate of police shootings of young African-American men in Missouri, Ohio, Oklahoma, and South Carolina. By the time the commissioned work Blue premiered at The Glimmerglass Festival in 2019, police killings of unarmed African-American men and women had soared to nearly 135.

While Blue holds up an often times uncomfortable mirror to racism in America, it is much more than a “protest opera” or an opera about police violence. In the words of director and librettist Tazewell Thompson, an internationally acclaimed director for opera and theatre, “I wrote [Blue] from an obsessive need and responsibility to tell an intimate story behind the numbing numbers of boys and men who are killed.”

And that is exactly the powerful appeal of Blue, which recently premiered at the Lyric Opera. Through Thompson’s intense and profound libretto and the soaring score composed by Tony-Award winner Jeanine Tesori, Blue draws us in beyond the names and the headlines to the unimaginable suffering of the families who have been torn apart by these tragic and senseless deaths.

Blue is a powerful, passionate, and yes, painful depiction of a family and community coming together in crisis and faith. Hailed by critics as a “new American classic,” it was named the Best New Opera of 2019 by the Music Critics Association of North America. Tesori, who won recent Tony Awards for the music to Kimberly Akimbo and Fun House, brought her considerable talent and success as a Broadway composer to create a score that is both contemporaneous and timeless. Thompson drew on a canon of African-American literary greats, including James Baldwin, Ta-Nehisi Coates, and Claude Brown, to write a libretto that is passionate and unapologetic.

The story centers on a Black middle-class couple living in Harlem, whose lives are shattered when their teenage son is shot and killed by a white police officer. Compounding the tragedy is the fact that the Father himself is a so-called “Black in Blue” – a member of the very same police force.

The two-act opera opens with the Mother performed by Lyric favorite Zoie Reams, who has gathered her girlfriends to share her wonderful news of her pregnancy. As her girlfriends, a charismatic trio led by Ariana Wehr in her Lyric debut and Lyric veterans Adia Evans and Krysty Swann, titter and exclaim over the Mother’s husband (“Damn girl,” they sing), the mood shifts suddenly as they learn her child is a boy. Oh no, no, no, they lament, reminding Mother that she is breaking the cardinal rule – “You shall not bring a black baby boy into the world.” Through a poignantly performed plea, Mother prevails upon her girlfriends to bless her child, whom she vows to bring into this world with love and hope.

The scene segues to Father, expertly performed by bassist Kenneth Kellogg in a role written specifically for him, as he reveals the news of his pending fatherhood with his three fellow police buddies (Terrence Chin-Loy, Jonathan Pierce Rhodes, and Christopher Humbert, Jr.) at the local watering hole, who can barely tear their eyes from watching the football game. Yet, they share in Father’s joy, peppering him with lighthearted advice and warnings about being a dad.

The first act concludes sixteen years later, when the Son, performed magnificently by tenor Travon D. Walker, and the Father engage in a bitter argument. The father confronts his son, who has been frequently at odds with the law for his involvement with non-violent political protests. “Look at yourself,” the Father intones. “Pull up your pants. Take off that hoodie.” The son pushes back, derisively accusing the Father of being “a cop,” “A clown in a blue suit,” upholding an oppressive system. Act 1 concludes with the Father, despite his son’s bitter words, offering an emotion-filled pledge to love and hold his son always.

As the second act opens, we discover that the Son has been shot and killed by a white police officer at a protest. The heartbroken Father meets with the Reverend, powerfully performed by Lyric veteran baritone Norman Garrett, who attempts to console him and encourages him to forgive. But the Father, in an ironic twist, adopts much of his son’s attitude and words, angrily lashing out at the Reverend. “I’m not here for redemption,” the Father says, “I’m here to confess” the revenge he plans to exact against the white officer. Yet, the Reverend continues to console the Father, and in a groundswell of pain, the two perform the beautiful heartrending duet “Lay my burden down.”

Meanwhile, the grief-stricken mother is attended once again by her girlfriends, to support her as she buries her son. In a particularly heartbreaking moment, Mother falls to her knees and begs God to return her son to her. “I don’t care if he’s blind; if he has no hands or feet. Just that he is alive,” she laments. But then, she bitterly remembers that “We are not God’s favorites.”

At the funeral, Father and Mother together wrestle with their grief. But with the prayers and support of the congregation, as the theme of “lay my burden down” is reprised, the two find consolation in their faith and community. The opera concludes with a flashback to the Son’s last night at the dinner table with his father and mother, pledging that this will be his last protest and promising that “nothing will happen. Nothing.”

Blue is an important, relevant opera, touching on themes and issues in a way that is not confrontational but heartfelt and profound. You may feel uncomfortable, but you will not walk away from this performance untouched and hoping for a better world.

Blue is in a limited engagement at the Lyric, with performances on Nov. 20, 22, 26 and December 1. For ticket information, visit Lyricopera.org.