Items filtered by date: November 2007

Initially, I had the jitters about reviewing Grandma’s Jukebox. Obviously the show was very much about music, and I’ve just never been really into music; I’d rather be reading. I didn’t even own a stereo in college! But I love theater so I arrived at the opening with an open mind and expectations.

The first acts established the groundwork: the four grandchildren are gathered to hear their family friend Richard, a lawyer, explain Grandma B’s estate. J Michael Wright portrays Richard’s excruciatingly awkward efforts to gain acceptance into the family circle, but the others form a closed wall. 

Jessica (played by Jessica Brooke Seals), as the eldest, assumes she will mount Grandma B’s matriarchal throne. She’s lost the respect of the other kids, however, by her submission to her domineering and chronically unemployed husband.

The play, written and directed by Michelle Renee Bester, is grounded in two cornerstones of African American life: family and music. Aeriel Williams as Parker gives a lovely rendition of “Song for Mama”, establishing that Parker’s overwhelming grief has silenced her, isolating her in a cocoon of mourning.  

After this poignant offering, Mikey, exuberantly played by Blake Reasoner, galvanizes us with James Brown’s “I Got the Feelin’”, then he and Chris (Vincent Jordan) manage to top it with their dancing as they crank out Michael Jackson’s “Beat It”.

Vincent Jordan’s Chris bares his pain and rage in PJ Morton’s “Heavy”, revealing how he’s manacled by a gang-ridden past, particularly the shackle of being labeled ‘felon’.

The pain of these four people’s personal traumas has been ignited by their bereavement, and each acts out their pain by blaming and belittling the others. Into this crucible steps Richard, the bumbling white guy, to inform them that Grandma B’s will has a condition: no one can inherit until they undergo family therapy. Richard frosts the cake by saying he’s been trained as a ‘family mediator’ and offering his services.

The following scenes intersperse therapy sessions with conversations. Jessica confronts her shiftless husband with “Hurt Me So Good” and Mikey (he’s NOT Michael! Michael is the abusive father that Grandma B rescued him from) and Chris rock the stage with “Ball of Confusion”.

Meantime, the jukebox sits in the background, and we’re wondering why this piece of furniture has been honored by the play’s title. After all, with the support of musicians Oscar Brown Jr (guitar/bandleader), Adam Sherrod (keys), Mark Miller (bass), and Myron Cherry (drums), this cast sparkles and shines performing each number. 

Then Parker is wistfully singing “I’ll be There”, when … But no. That would be telling.  Suffice it to say, the jukebox earns the title.

The finale, a roof-raising ensemble performance of “Before I Let Go”, reminds us that family love is not constrained by genetics, race, or personal quibbles; a reminder we all need from time to time.

There are a couple of things I’d like to have seen highlighted more.  The first couple of scenes were a bit slow, the singing not quite up to the performers’ rousing best, and the humor a bit forced.  This resolved as the cast relaxed and settled into their performances, and was blown away completely when Chris and Mikey pounded out James Brown and Michael Jackson. 

The playwright’s stated intention is to display ways for healing generational trauma, but the traumata explored were limited to the current generation.  I think “Grandma’s Jukebox” could have delved deeper into intergenerational trauma and recovery.

The artistic team is Executive Producer Jackie Taylor, writer/director Michelle Renee Bester, Robert Reddrick as music director, and Oscar Brown Jr leading the band.  The design team – Bek Lambrecht (set), and Denise Karczewski and Marquecia Jordan (costumes) showed welcome minimalism, simply dressing the room as home and the players as family, with a couple of quirks like Parker’s blankie and Mikey’s exuberant colors.

“Grandma’s Jukebox” plays through June 26 at the Black Ensemble Theatre, continuing the 2022 “Season of Excellence: Season of Healing and Joy”.  If a musically torpid white girl like me can be brought out of her seat by “Grandma’s Jukebox”, then a music lover’s cup will be running over.

'The Magnolia Ballet' is an exceptional show—perfect in performances, direction (Mikael Burke), staging. And then there’s the script, by Terry Guest, who also plays the lead as Ezekiel “Z” Mitchell VI. While this show merits a Jeff Award (Chicago's Tony) without doubt, I believe it’s Pulitzer material, at least in my book. Why?

On the surface, 'The Magnolia Ballet' may seem an unassuming tale of a young black boy, Z, and his gradual coming out as gay in an unwelcoming rural South. Bright and sensitive, Z longs for affection denied by a stern and authoritarian father Ezekiel Mitchell V (Wardell Julius Clark). After his mother dies, Z takes solace in a grammar school friend, Danny Mitchell (Ben Sulzberger), a white boy. Best buddies, they do homework and listen to music together, and develop a tacit sexual relationship after puberty. And they probe whether they may have found that unicorn sought so sorely by white people, a post-racial friendship that jettisons five generations of slave and master dynamics.

All this in just 95 minutes (no intermission) that is humorous and adept. Terry Guest as Z is a remarkable actor, and we may have something on the order of 'Hedwig and the Angry Inch,' with author and performer in one. Sheldon D. Brown hovers over the action as Apparition, a ghost and stand-in for numerous men and women, black and white. His performance is a wonder, truly. Wardell Julius Clark is excellent as Z’s father, and periodically, Danny’s father, a white sheriff. Ben Sulzberger as Danny Mitchell nails the role.

Powerful and touching material for a sentimental memoir on its own, but the playwright takes it so much further, providing a sweeping context for examining how he as a gay Black man was formed. It includes the history of his father’s emotional constraints passed down over generations from the progenitor, a slave for whom expressing paternal love could be dangerous. We get a review of four centuries of white apologists for the “necessary evil” of slavery. We hear the specious argument from Z’s best friend about “remembering” the Confederate history but not embracing its roots in the economic defense of slave labor. A host of asides and details like the fact Z’s friend wears a Confederate jacket reproduced in 1910, provide clues to the overarching story: This jacket is not really an artifact saved from 1865, but evidence of the collective cultural consciousness that, replicating and propagating itself, perpetuates racism today.

Playwright Terry Guest gives us the white view of the world accurately, in a way we can understand. Z’s friend Danny laments his generational past: his ancestors helped perpetrate church burnings and the Selma bombing. They were at the revival of the Ku Klux Klan. Danny aspires to be released from his roots, and offers a sincere apology to Z for this baggage. And we get high points of cultural icons like “Gone With the Wind” and the threatening white sheriff seen through white and black eyes.

Guest is schooled in theater and a skillful playwright. Before this Chicago premiere 'The Magnolia Ballet' was staged at Indianapolis' Phoenix Theatre. Guest's other works include 'The Madness of Mary Todd Lincoln,' 'Andy Warhol Presents: The Cocaine Play,' and most recently 'At the Wake of the Dead Drag Queen.' This play is described as a "Southern Gothic fable that melds high drama, poetry. and spectacle to explore masculinity, racism, and the love between a queer kid and his father." 

The production incorporates balletic renderings of a barbershop haircut, evocative song, and Sheldon D. Brown's Apparition renders these and so many other poetic scenes that evidence his prolific background as a an actor from Shakespeare to contemporary works, and educator credits at Steppenwolf and Northlight. It is an underpinning of the play and production.

In the end, the white boy Danny meets a crossroads, forsaking Z in an incident triggered by homophobia, but powered by the centuries of separate and unequal power whites have over Blacks. The suggestion is that the racial divide is so ingrained it perpetuates itself. The playwright artfully gives white people an accessible view of the white world through Black eyes. We see this young Black man suffer for opening his heart to a white man. Guest paints a specific portrait of our racial split, and shows why it is so intractable. If that divide is ever to be bridged, it will be helped by great artists like Guest and the creative team of About Face Theatre. Highly recommended, it runs through June 11 at the Den Theater, 1331 N. Milwaukee Ave. in Chicago.

August Wilson is best known for a series of 10 plays known as the “Pittsburgh cycle” which chronicle the African American experience in America. For me, Wilson’s greater achievement is giving voice to African American men. Grown African American men over a certain age. Wilson allows his male characters to achieve something he didn’t achieve ...old age. Mr. Wilson died in 2005 at the relatively young age of 60. It is unfathomable what he would have written if given another 10 years. Sadly, too few playwrights write and value older Black men as Wilson did.

“Two Trains Running” takes place during the turbulent 60’s. 1969 to be exact. A time when for every action there is an equal and opposite action. Think Malcolm X and Dr. Martin Luther King. Think LBJ’s war on poverty and Black neighborhoods being burned to the ground. The 1960’s was a time when there were always two distinct trains of thought running at the same time. Wilson made the best of these times without making a boring historical drama. Let’s face it, Black folks had a hard time in the 60’s.

The setting is the Hill District diner of Memphis Lee, scheduled for demolition but not before the city pays the asking price. Memphis (A.C. Smith, in a performance he will be long remembered for) is a recently single man since his wife walked out on him. It doesn’t take long to figure out why. He treats his sole employee Riza like she is a maid. Memphis is a man who remembers what it was like to live in the south, he often mentions it. You would think that he would treat his employee better because of what he has gone through, but no, he subjugates her until you almost feel sorry. Almost.

Riza, (in a strong performance by Kierra Bunch) gives as well as she can take, and she takes a lot. Nothing bothers Riza she has seen it all. She has scarred her legs to deter the attention of men to no avail.  Although she wants the best casket for her friend, she refuses to view the body. Again, those two trains of thought at play.

Holloway (played with wisdom by Alfred Wilson) has some of the evening’s most profound lines as well as some of the funniest. There is a line about the Undertaker West burying people with the same suit that is hilarious. Alfred Wilson has a finely developed sense of humor, and it is put to excellent use here.

Ronald L. Connor cast as neighborhood predator/numbers runner Wolf is a stroke of genius. In a big ass afro it would be easy for Connor to slip into caricature, but he keeps this character real and recognizable. Despite constantly being told not to play numbers in the diner by Memphis. Memphis is one of his most reliable customers…again, two trains of thought. Wolf knowing how seemingly dangerous Sterling is has no problem selling him a gun, on credit no less.

Some of the most beautiful scenes in this play were done by Jerrod Haynes as Sterling and Joseph Primes as Hambone.  Jerrod is a scary Sterling on first meeting him. He has no problem telling anyone who would listen he just got out of the penitentiary. He’s the kind of guy that takes what he wants and is very sure of himself. He operates on no pretense. Joseph Primes has a face that tells one everything they need to know. His Hambone was aware. His Hambone was a fighter. Since I’ve seen the play several times before I concentrated on Hambone when he wasn’t talking. A million things were going thru his head, and they all came back to “I want my ham”. The story of the ham is two trains of thought, Lutz offered Hambone a chicken to paint his fence and if he did a really good job, Lutz said he would get a ham. Hambone felt he did a really good job, Lutz thought different.

Rounding out this coterie of characters is West, the Funeral Owner. In an unrecognizable role Cedric Young reminds us of how he got rich and how he’s gonna stay rich.

The period costumes were done by Christine Pascual…They were excellent. The costumes never got in the way of the story. These characters were real. A special shout to Christine for making sure Riza wasn’t in an afro. In 1969, women were hot-combing their hair and trying to look like Diana Ross and The Supremes. The set by Jack Magaw with the small details informed you that this is Pittsburgh.

Ron O.J. Parsons has done a marvelous job as usual. Proving he knows this language better than just about anyone in Chicago. There are performances here that will last forever “Two Trains Running” is a play one listens to. It stays with you a very long time.

Thru June 12^th at Court Theatre.

TimeLine Theatre’s ‘The Chinese Lady’ is a powerful show - poignant, learned, sophisticated - and illuminating. Ninety minutes of engaging drama (no intermission) that left me somewhere between laughing, crying, and standing on my feet to cheer.

Directed by Helen Young from the script by Lloyd Suh (an award-winning playwright now in residence at New York’s New Dramatists) is based on the true story of Afong Moy (Mi Kang gives a stellar performance), brought to New York in 1834 as a living museum exhibit when she was just 14. For 25 cents a ticket, Afung Moy portrayed aspects of life in exotic China: eating a meal with chopsticks, walking in petite slippers covering her tiny bound feet, making tea, and speaking to the audience about life in her homeland. 

As the first Chinese woman to come to the U.S. and American public, we gather from Moy’s presentation that her contractors—New York merchants of Asian imports who are unseen in the play—hoped to inspire an appreciation of China’s culture and people. Her pparents contracted with the merchants for a two-year servitude at the museum. This stretched on for 55 years.

The exhibit space that forms the scenery (Arnell Scanciaco is scenic designer) is built in a Chinese style, and adorned with fine pottery and carvings (Rowen Doe handles properties) the type that merchants would likely have brought from her homeland. 

Afong Moy is assisted in her presentation by Atung (Glenn Obrero is equally excellent in this two-person show). Atung draws the curtain, serves the meal, and fluent in English and Chinese, translates and speaks for her. Over time she gains sufficient fluency to make Atung “superfluous” for speaking to the audience. Their stage personae and their personal relationship forms the structure for the play, and the playwright exploits this expertly.

Because Afong Moy is speaking directly to the ticket holders—that role played by the audience— the fourth wall of the stage is non-existent. We watch the arc of Afong Moy’s acclimation to her new home. When offstage, she lives with an American family and at first expresses disdain for their potatoes and corn, and eating with forks. "Chop sticks are elegant," she says.

We meet her again at age 16, and find Afong Moy is now enjoying American food, and longs to go to San Francisco. Scenes revisit her at various intervals, as she ages, and loses her Cantonese, she forgets what her parents looked like, and question who she is. Over time ticket prices escalate to $15. In adulthood she is invited to the White House by Andrew Jackson. We also see the sweep of history through her eyes: the Opium Wars that led to European domination by decimating Chin with drugs; the construction of the transcontinental railway during the Civil War by Chinese immigrants; and later the rise of anti-immigrant sentiment, and the passage of the Exclusionary Act which in 1882 banned Chinese immigration. 

Secondary themes—the relationship between Atung and Afong Moy in dual planes of unrequited love; Atung and Afong Moy’s growing awareness that they are largely without a life, wearing clothes not their own, speaking words that have been scripted—form existential reveries. They express too the horror of this decadent cultural colonialism. And yet, the indomitability of Afong Moy’s human spirit, her aspirations, are not extinguished. 

‘The Chinese Lady’ runs through June 18 at Theater Wit, 1229 W. Belmont in Chicago. It comes highly recommended. 

Life comes at you fast. We go about our lives, navigating the ups and the downs, never really thinking of  more than the day to day, the little irritations of work, or being consumed by a new love. Then, as it always seems to go, something upends our life, like a life threatening illness. Suddenly everything that once consumed our thoughts becomes trivial, eclipsed by the momumentalness of the new reality. While most could succumb to the pressure of such news, others persevere, determined to live their life on their terms, regardless of knowing what lies ahead of them. This very real life scenario played out in Melissa Ross’ 'The Luckiest'.

Lissette and Peter are best friends living their best lives. But when an out-of-nowhere diagnosis shatters Lissette's world, Peter is left trying to pick up the pieces. Suddenly finding herself at odds with her best friend and her mom – who each come bearing strong opinions wrapped in good intentions – Lissette is forced to navigate between the two while unflinchingly forging her own path for her future. This tender, funny, and keenly-observed play explores the uncertain and sometimes heartbreaking territory of how we choose to take ownership of our lives. Melissa Ross’ moving play, full of heartbreak and hilarity makes its Chicago Premiere.

As one who nows cries at every sad or beautiful movie, play, or song, I fully expected to be clutching a tissue all evening while watching The Luckiest. As I watched Lissette, played by Cassidy Slaughter-Mason, and Peter, played by Christopher Wayland, throughout their friendship we see a beautiful complex narrative that forces the question, “who really is the luckiest?” Is the luckiest Lissette, who, despite this life ending illness, chooses her own fate and lives her life unabashedly? Is she the luckiest to have had such a friend as Peter, who helped her navigate her life with the illness? Perhaps the luckiest is Peter, who is lucky to have met and befriended Lissette, lucky to have had him in her life. One could say Lissette’s mother, played by Tara Mallen, is the luckiest to hae been there for her daughter in her time of need. Consider for a moment that the luckiest people are the survivors, Peter and Lissette’s mother, who live on no longer under the weight of caretaking nor bearers of the weight of such a onerous decision. Maybe the luckiest person is the one who chooses to leave this world, no longer in pain or heartache. 

The beauty of Melissa Ross’ 'The Luckiest' is that the lucky one is in the eye of the beholder. She holds a mirror to our lives with honesty, grounding, and even a little dark humor. I happen to think that we, the audience, are the lucky ones. We’re lucky to be spectators to such a story, to have our health and ability to see Lisette and hear her words, and walk away from the play knowing we too could have our lives changed at any moment; a reminder to live our lives. 'The Luckiest' is a substantioanlly light play that is sure to stay with you long after you leave the theatre, and we are all the more lucky for it.

'The Luckiest' is playing at Raven Theatre located at 6157 N. Clark Street, Chicago, IL 60660 through June 9th. Tickets are available at https://www.raventheatre.com/stage/the-luckiest/.

“A man came by chance, saw it, and destroyed it” repeats Chekhov in his psychological melodrama “The Seagull”. Such a simple phrase says so much about the ways humans can treat one another. Steppenwolf Theatre revives the classic play under the title “Seagull” in a new adaptation by company member Yasen Peyankov who also serves as the director. Steppenwolf invites audiences to their new impressive theater space for its inaugural production. The cast primarily features ensemble members in what feels like a celebration of Steppenwolf’s rich legacy.

“Seagull” is a great introduction to the impressive new building on Steppenwolf’s campus as well as a great introduction to Anton Chekhov. Yasen Peyankov worked on this script for many years, occasionally working with Russian language experts from Northwestern University to maintain Chekhov’s original intent. Audiences will be struck by how fresh this script sounds. Plays of this era can be a bit of a slog for the uninitiated, but this version has a stronger sense of immediacy to the lines. Peyankov focuses his script on the dark humor that often gets diluted out in tedious repetition and lengthy scene-work. The main points are easier to grasp here and overall serves the tragic ending more because the characters feel more relatable.

Peyankov’s script is peppered with a reality TV flare. Nobody perhaps better inhabits that flavor than Lusia Strus as Irina Arkadina. Her character is a fading stage actress who’s summering at a country house with her new beau and her adult son. Her adult son Konstantin (Namir Smallwood) is also struggling writer and loathes his mother’s successful writer boyfriend Trigorin (Joey Slotnik). He’s in love with Nina (Caroline Neff) but she much favors fame than love. Konstantin cannot return the love of the caretaker’s gothic daughter Masha (Karen Rodriguez) though she’s the only one who believes in his talent as a writer. Emotions run high and reactions run big, just like an episode of “Real Housewives.” Lusia is a bold, sexy and smokey voiced Irina, often walking away with most of the laughs in the play.

“Seagull” seems more focused on the female ensemble and that’s just fine because this is a stellar cast of actresses. Masha is arguably one of the best roles an actress can ask for. Karen Rodriguez doesn’t get bogged down in the angst of the role, but rather uses physicality to enhance the comic absurdity of Masha’s moroseness. Masha’s mother Paulina is played by Sandra Marquez who also does a great job of pulling out the humor of an otherwise pathetic character. This script brings the young starstruck Nina character to life more than previous versions. The play gets its name from her character afterall. Caroline Neff delivers a notably emotional performance. The beauty of the new in-the-round space is that in the final moments of the play audiences are able to see and experience the facial expressions of the actors in a way not possible in their existing spaces. Neff is devastating as she manically circles the performance space vacillating between clarity and delusion. Throughout the play Neff speaks the dialogue so naturally that it almost doesn’t feel like scripted words at all.

Purists will have their qualms with this new adaptation but there are only so many ways to use the same dusty old scripts. Yasen Peyankov’s script is definitely cheeky, but there’s real depth in his version. By cleaning up the clutter of words in traditional translations he makes room for the character ambitions to be clearer. When they don’t get what they want, it makes it all the more tragic. If you’re looking for a lighter dance through Chekhov, this is the version to see.

Through June 12 at Steppenwolf Theatre Company. 1650 N Halsted. www.steppenwolf.org/seagull

Hopes and reality rarely align. Fairytale marriages only exist in fairy tales, and parenting is not nearly as easy as television shows that wrap up family crises in a half hour including commercials would indicate. Yet people keep getting married and having children, and discovering that, while spouses and children are far more complicated and not nearly as perfect as the fantasies promise, they’re worth the investment. In Kristine Thatcher’s play, Emma’s Child, Rogers Park couple Henry and Jean Farrell have figured out how to make their marriage work despite the other’s flaws and have spent a decade and a half trying to bring a child into their lives, finally turning to adoption. The process exposes unexpected differences in expectations and when they finally meet the child they had intended to adopt, their marriage is threatened by their different approaches to confronting a reality that neither they nor the birth mother, Emma, anticipated. Thatcher’s play, under the direction of Terry McCabe, who also directed its 1996 premiere, explores what it means to be a parent, and the challenges that arise when the reality of parenthood strays beyond the bounds of any expectations. Raising a child with a profound disability is an overwhelming prospect and in Emma’s Child the difficulties are compounded by the question of motherhood—who is responsible for the care of an infant who is not the child that anyone was prepared to welcome into the world?

Thatcher’s play, which takes place in 1990-1991, jumps quickly between locations and timelines, which sometimes leads to powerful juxtapositions, but other times serves little purpose and minimizes the dramatic tension as the end of scenes is already revealed in previous scenes set in the future. However, in general, the narrative is easy to follow and the Thatcher wisely avoids offering easy answers to questions that have none. The characters are all portrayed sympathetically, even as they sometimes try the patience of those around them and the audience. Director Terry McCabe keeps the action moving between locations including the neo-natal intensive care unit at Christ Hospital, the Farrell’s Rogers Park apartment, various offices and a wooded area in Michigan. Samantha Gribben’s unfussy set is dominated by an incubator which always keeps the theme of the play visually present; one cannot overlook the baby in the room. Lighting and sound designer Benjamin Dionysus helps fill in the minimal settings, and props designer Jeff Brain keeps the action grounded in the reality of each space. Costume designer Louise “Scout” Gregory uses layers and accessories to support shifts in time, while giving each character a look that suits their personality, from the slightly tweedy Henry, to Jean’s harried polish, her friend Franny’s looser flair, to various versions of scrubs and suits.

The large cast all give nuanced, grounded performances under McCabe’s direction, recognizing the truth portrayed in Thatcher’s play that no one really has the time or resources to care for Robin, the child at the center of the adoption. Kat Evans anchors the show as a tightly wound Jean, who is forced to confront the limits of her ability to parent a child with special needs. In early scenes, she comes across as someone who needs to maintain control to not fall apart. As she becomes more invested in Robin’s well-being, Evans’s performance shows Jean’s evolution into a powerful advocate and pragmatic parent, while constantly being confronted by the knowledge that the child is not hers, biologically or legally. As her husband Henry, James Sparling goes from charming to slightly prickly as he faces the fact that, not only does he not have the same capacity to deal with Robin’s disability, but he is losing his connection with his Jean as she insists on caring for the child. Sparling remains sympathetic even as his character insists that Robin should be left to institutional care. As Franny, Jean’s friend who steps in to lend support when Henry is struggling to do so, Rebecca Sparks captures both the affection of a long-time friend and the aloofness that is possible for an outside observer. Fran’s marriage is unsatisfying, and she is having an affair, while also playing intermediary between Jean and Henry, and trying to support Jean, who, in turn ends up trying to support her friend’s mid-life affair despite her misgivings about it. Sparks effectively balances caring and flightiness in a character that takes on too many roles. A standout in the supporting cast is Lee Wichman as Laurence, the NICU nurse charged with Robin’s care. Wichman injects much-needed humor into the intense care that Robin requires. Laurence understands more than anyone the needs of the infant and rallies his caretakers with a respectful disregard for protocol. He also initiates Jean into the care routine but recognizes her limitations more than she does. Wichman’s gentle, sardonic performance perfectly aligns with his role. As Mary Jo, Laurence’s heir-apparent, Maria Zoia brings a deadpan toughness to her role, using humor, enthusiasm and studied cluelessness to give Robin access to what he needs. marssie Mencotti brings down-to-earth warmth to both her roles, as the adoption agency representative who recognizes the limitations of prospective parents, but also the value of her work, and as the doctor who wants the best for the infant Robin, while being constrained by bureaucracy and caseload. Andrea Conway-Diaz toes the bottom line as hospital administrator Vivian Radmacher, rarely allowing her compassion to creep into decisions that she knows all too well could affect the future of the hospital. As Sam Stornant, Jamie Black brings aggrieved stoicism, tempered by late-emerging self-awareness to his role as Franny’s abandoned husband (though who abandoned whom is a point of controversy); his conversations with Sparling’s Henry allow both the characters and the audience another perspective on the questions of marriage and parenthood that the play explores. As two birth mothers, Katie MacLauchlan and MiKayla Boyd make the most of roles that seem deliberately pushed to the edges of the drama. MacLauchlan as Emma is practical and direct, revealing both her concern for the infant that she gave up and her relief at not having to add this responsibility to an already complicated web of caretaking. As the young Michelle, Boyd balances her understanding of the enormity of giving birth with her knowledge that she is not ready for the child she is carrying.

Thatcher’s play unsparingly examines both the familial and societal toll of caring for children, wanted or not, who require more care than most people can give, while also introducing the audience to the difficulties of placing children whose birth parents want to provide good homes but cannot do so. Thatcher avoids judgment, though the audience may not, recognizing that people have expectations and even prejudices that color their decisions (as evidenced in the pre-adoption interviews and Emma’s casual assessment of Laurence). There are a few subplots in Thatcher’s play that may occupy a bit too much time and distract from the central theme of parenting, especially the examination of the Stornants’ marriage as juxtaposed with the Farrells’ marriage, but McCabe’s straightforward direction, and the clear-eyed performances by the ensemble provide plenty of material for discussions of what responsibility parents, we as a society, and the medical community have to provide care for the most vulnerable among us. While not a cheerful play, Emma’s Child offers compassion and hope along with the hard questions it raises, and City Lit’s new production powerfully portrays the challenges and joys of parenthood.

Emma’s Child runs through May 29, Fridays and Saturdays at 7:30pm and Sundays at 3:00pm, with Monday performances on May 16 and 23 at 7:30pm. Tickets are $34, seniors $29, students and military $12. Performances take place at City Lit Theater, 1020 W. Bryn Mawr Ave., inside Edgewater Presbyterian Church. Tickets and information are available at www.citylit.org and by phone at 773-293-3682.

Fifteen years ago, boy band flavored ‘Spring Awakening’ took Broadway by storm. Promises of on-stage teen sex had lines wrapped around the block. Broadway blockbusters can be hard to predict, but typically breakout hits are shows that transcend the boundaries of traditional musical theatre. With a pop rock soundtrack by Duncan Sheik and sultry staging, ‘Spring Awakening’ connected to a broader audience.

Porchlight Music Theatre concludes their season with ‘Spring Awakening’ directed and choreographed by Brenda Didier. ‘Spring Awakening’ has become one of the most produced shows in the US, but Porchlight’s production feels like a discovery. While the staging and costumes are faithful to the original production, this version is full of bright young energy.

‘Spring Awakening’ is based on the 1891 German play by Frank Wedekind. The play shocked audiences and was quickly banned. The musical written by Steven Sater is a conceptual reinterpretation that combines modern elements of rock music with the classic story of sexual realization in repressive times.

The main story follows school children, Wendla (Maya Lou Hlava), Melchoir (Jack Decesare) and Moritz (Quinn Kelch). Each are naturally preoccupied with sex as they go through puberty. They implore their teachers and parents to be honest with them about sex, but the adults are uncomfortable speaking frankly about sex. Romance blooms between Melchoir and Wendla but Moritz struggles with his mixed-up feelings about sexuality. Through kicky ensemble-driven songs, many other angsty ideas are unpacked including themes of abuse and homosexuality.

‘Spring Awakening’ is an ensemble musical. With music direction by Justin Akira Kono, the music is the focal point. Hair-raising harmonies paired with inventive choreography make even the most unpleasant lyrical content as digestible as candy. The live band on stage gives this show a gritty rock sound that makes it impossible not to nod along.

There are many dark topics covered in this rock musical, but the staging and ensemble work make this show a lot of fun. Lighting design by Patrick Chan and scenic design by Christopher Rhoton lend themselves to the disco-ish vibe of the music. Chic costumes by Bill Morey help make this production sleek and stylish.

This is a strong cast. Though most of the characters aren’t fully developed on the page, company members make their characters distinct. Perhaps the most vivid performance comes from Tiffany T. Taylor as Ilse. Her voice rises to the top of the stirring finale, ‘The Song of Purple Summer’.

Not every popular musical ages well. ‘Spring Awakening’ can be one of those shows that when done badly is hard to sit through. Conversely when it’s done well, as is the case with Porchlight’s production, it’s not hard to see why this show swept the Tonys. Those who are returning to ‘Spring Awakening’ will be just as titillated by the staging. What shines through this production is the genuine sense of not only pathos, but enthusiasm from this talented young cast. Very little feels trite or cliché in this exciting new production.

Through June 2 at Porchlight Music Theatre at Ruth Page Center for the Arts. 1016 N Dearborn St. www.porchlightmusictheatre.org

Grab a glass of wine with me and journey with me to Paris, France 1904. We stumble in as guests to a local artist haunt in the Montmartre District and remain on the exterior of the room. It's a cozy, intimate, and simple bar, with witty, smart, and regular patrons who are tres amusant. We do not know what the evening will bring, but we’re welcomed by the barkeep and entranced by the colorful characters that enter the bar. This is The Lapin Agile.

The Lapin Agile is a comedy play written by the incomparable Steve Martin. The comedy imagines a meeting between a 23-year-old Pablo Picasso and a 25-year-old Albert Einstein at a real life artists’ hangout in Paris at the dawn of the 20th century. It’s 1904 and the two geniuses are about to complete their most significant accomplishments; Einstein’s theory of relativity and Picasso’s painting “The Young Ladies of Avignon.” They have a lengthy debate about the value of genius and talent which is often interrupted by colorful patrons of the bar.

While such a meeting between the two artists never took place, the play brings the imaginary encounter to life, giving it plausibility. Einstein, played by Mark Yacullo and Picasso, played by Travis Ascion, embodied the intelligent and charming men, exchanging witty remarks about the others’ occupation and trade. With smart jokes, witty comebacks, and hilarious moments, the play delves into meaningful conversations where two seemingly opposite geniuses in their own rights find commonality in the power of their imaginations and how their pens allow them to transcend modernity.

The Lapin Agile is a real bar in the heart of Paris. Located in the Montmartre arts district, this bar was famous as a local artist's haunt drawing in many famous names in art, music, literature, and more. The Citadel Theater brought the charming 20th century haunt from Paris to its modest stage, nestled in the charming town of Lake Forest just North of Chicago. The ensemble cast provided the perfect enchanting bartenders, servers, and patrons, much like one would encounter in a real Paris artist’s bar. The play was surprisingly and consistently funny, lose focus for a moment and you might miss a subtle joke about Euclidean geometry or a playful jest about the French. The ensemble cast skillfully breaks the 4th wall, never stepping out of character or the Paris district they were playing in, in fact you were tempted to ask the barkeep for a drink to share with the cast.

At its heart, The Lapin Agile imagines the possibility of sitting in a quiet bar at the turn of a century and allows you to imagine what could be. What could be beautiful, revolutionary, colorful, loud, and what could break through the realm of possibility, even transcending time and space. It’s a beautiful play, performed by a talented cast, in a surprisingly charming theater.  

The Lapin Agile is playing at the Citadel Theater, located at 300 S Waukegan Road, Lake Forest, IL through May 22, 2022. Santé!

Lifeline Theatre has remounted 'Middle Passage' for its return to live production. It is every bit as good, even better, than the run cut short by the pandemic in March 2020.

But this time around I was better able to appreciate the artfulness of the script. Adapted by Ilesa Duncan (who co-directs with David Barr II) from a best-selling National Book Award winning novel by scholar Dr. Charles Johnson. Middle Passage the book is a fictional first-person narrative set in 1830 by a 20-year-old freed slave, Rutherford Calhoun (Ajax Dontavius), who makes his way from Southern Illinois to New Orleans to sow his wild oats.

It is an exciting show: absolutely entertaining, well-produced, extremely well-acted. It would have been a crying shame if audiences didn't get another chance to see the inventive staging, a realistic ship's deck crammed into Lifeline's compact quarters at 6912 N. Glenwood in Chicago. It runs through June 5 so don't miss it.

Entertaining as it is, 'Middle Passage' also recounts the enslavement and transport of Africa’s Almuseri people, their inhumane treatment by a cruel ship’s captain, and plans by the captain to sell their most sacred possession, a statue of a living god kept stowed with the slaves below. How do these opposites co-exist in one play? Sadly, just as they do in daily life. 

Ajax Dontavius as Rutherford Calhoun carries the weight of the show, onstage nearly every minute, and he acquits hiimself exceptionally well as the wandering young man. Like a 19th century literary character (think Thackeray’s Barry Lyndon), we live his experiences through Calhoun's first-person point of view. As the good and bad pass before his eyes during his adventures, he makes frequent asides to speak directly to the audience—really very Shakespearean, with some of these in metered rhyme. As in life the lighthearted moments and the tragic co-exist, and at first, Calhoun drifts through them all, witnessing but unaffected.

Calhoun is on the make in New Orleans, and without means – courting young ladies, but also running up debts. This comes to the notice of Papa Zeringue (Lynsey Falls is excellent), a Creole mob boss holding 50,000 francs in Calhoun’s promissory notes. Papa Zeringue tells Calhoun he must pay, or he will be thrown into the deeps of the Mississippi. 

Thankfully for Calhoun, he has won the heart of the chaste school marm, Isadora (Shelby Lynn Bias is superb in the role), a very refined young Black schoolteacher from Boston, whose family has been free four generations. Isadora has some savings, and unbeknownst to Calhoun, negotiates to pay his debts to Papa Zeringue, on the condition Calhoun is forced to marry her.

Calhoun is not interested in marriage, and so escapes by stowing aboard the ship Republic. Discovered days after it puts out to sea, he joins the crew, but soon learns the Republic is an illegal slaver, on its way to Africa to pick up human cargo. With that, the story opens to an exciting seafaring tale with all the trappings—storms, cannon fire, mutiny, betrayals, culminating in a shipwreck following a slave rebellion. Here, as my companion noted the blocking is remarkable, the tiny stage presenting a ship tossed on the sea, conveyed by the carefully orchestrated movements of the crew and cargo tossed to and fro. 

Calhoun is there for selfish reasons - “Of all the things that drive men to sea, the most common disaster, I've come to learn, is women” – as one character puts it. As an “everyman” character, we watch Calhoun try to avoid dirtying his hands in a mutiny, and later negotiating with the slaves who seize the ship. But Calhoun changes through his experience, befriending the slaves and shifting from aloof observer to their advocate. convincing the slaves to spare the helmsman who alone can guide them back to their homeland. Calhoun develops his moral compass through the trials, and as my companion suggests, is like the hero in the tale of Gilgamesh, back where he started as the boat finally returns to port in New Orleans, but a changed man, and a beautiful resolution of the series of plot points follows.

In addition to Baily and Dontavius, the cast is uniformly good - really good - and most play multiple ensemble roles, as well as their principle character: Hunter Bryant (Calhoun’s brother Jackson), also, notably plays the role of a young slave learning English who bonds with Calhoun. All the players are good: Patrick Blashill (Captain Falcon) and Christopher Vizurraga (Peter Cringle); Benjamin Jenkins (Santos), Monty Kane (Jackson/Ngonyama), Robert Koon (Josiah Squibb), MarieAnge Louis-Jean (Baleka), Kellen Robinson (Tom), and Gerrit Wilford (McGaffin).

The production team are also stars, kudos to Alan Donahue (Scenic and Properties Designer), Elise Kauzlaric (Dialect Coach), Maren Robinson (Dramaturg); Amelia Ablan (Production Manager), Noah Abrams (Master Electrician), Kyle Bajor (Co-Lighting Designer),, Barry Bennett (Sound Designer), Connor Blackwood (Assoc. Sound Designer), Alex Gendal (Projections Designer), Galen Hughes (Asst. Stage Manager), Harrison Ornelas (Technical Director), Nicole Clark Springer (Choreographer/Movement Designer), Mattie Switzer (Stage Manager), Scott Tobin (Co-Lighting Designer), Shawn Wallace (Composer/Music Director), and Anna Wooden (Costume Designer).

Alan Donohue's gives us a lovingly crafted sailing vessel with multiple decks, stowage, working winch, mast and beam – all integrated to the projection design and sound design makes us feel for all the world we are at sea, particularly during storms and battles. 

The play originated at Pegasus Players in 2016 as 'Rutherford’s Travels.' But this version seems very strongly rooted in African storytelling culture, which taps a type of magical realism, to my mind (like Colson Whitehead’s Underground Railroad). Its title is far more resonant today: Middle Passage also refers to the slave shipping route that represents the crucible of emotional and spiritual transformation of human beings from free, cultured Africans to impoverished American slaves.

Highly recommended, see 'Middle Passage' at www.lifelinetheatre.com.