Items filtered by date: November 2007

When Schönberg and Boublil’s Miss Saigon made its original run in the early 90s, I missed it — too far away to catch a traveling performance, and too young to have seen or even afforded to see it. And back then, I was way too young to have really understood the big, Important (with a capital I) issues the musical raised, or which were raised by its very being. Sure, I knew many of the show’s songs, from the ubiquitous double-CD soundtrack that seemed to exist in the music collection of nearly every person I knew. But like they say, that Miss Saigon was wasted on the young.

So given the chance to see the current touring production currently playing at the Cadillac Palace Theatre, I sat down not so young, but ready to finally see the show I thought I’d known all those years. And while it was every bit the spectacle I imagined, my experience — and the experiences our world has had — added even more substance and complexity to an already substantial and complex tale.

First, the spectacle. Many of the touring productions coming through Chicago are great but feel pared down compared to shows that would stay for extended periods. Perhaps it’s also the style of recent shows, as well, to be economical and sparse when it comes to stage design. But that’s not the case with this Miss Saigon.

The sets dazzle, with red-light signs flashing, American flags waving, Ho Chi Minh glaring, and chopper blades throbbing. The costumes, too, transport you, to brothels catering to America GIs, huts housing the Vietnamese whose land they’ve overrun, and embassy gates closed to some.

The ensemble dazzles, as well, making the cast seem even larger than it is. Whether it’s said servicemen out for a bit of R&R or the women whose lot in life is to provide it, whether it’s postwar Communist soldiers marching in file, or postwar American men looking to provide for the children fathered half a world away, the cast fills all the roles the show requires, and they fill them well.

The ensemble really earns its pay during the showstopper near the end when Red Concepcion’s pimp, The Engineer, champions that elusive “American Dream” — high-stepping and singing as The Engineer preens and prances. Concepcion’s Engineer takes on even more meaning than perhaps he would have 25 years ago, as the fast-talking, macho-walking archetype who’ll use others — particularly those less powerful than himself — is one fully come to life. So, too, do some of his lines hit hard, especially the added bit about “Cocaine, shotguns, and prayer—hallelujah!” being the American dream, of then or now. But whether portraying the awfulness of yesteryear or that which we now face, Concepcion steals the show.

That’s not to say the rest of the cast isn’t wonderful. Starting the second act, J. Daughtry’s John changes from a typical young Marine at war to a man who’s been changed by the things he saw and did while there. Leading a men’s chorus in “Bui Doi,” a song about the children fathered by American soldiers and “born in strife,” Daughtry’s voice rises above the chorus and the moving pictures of children projected behind him, reaching for the rafters even as it laments the lows of humanity’s inhumanity.

Anthony Festa, as John’s fellow Marine Chris, also subverts the macho American infantryman one would expect. Whether it’s the touching “Wedding Ceremony” he shares with Kim (hauntingly chorused by the female ensemble members into something like a hymn) or his duet with her on “Last Night of the World,” a “song played on a solo saxophone, a crazy sound, a lonely sound,” he cries “a cry that tells us love goes on and on.”

But it is Emily Bautista as Kim whose cry is the loudest, the loveliest, and goes on and on across the Cadillac’s stage. Bautista brings both vulnerability and strength to a role that in lesser hands might very well be engulfed by such a grand staging. From singing to and with Chris of the sun and moon, to telling the son she had with him that “I’d Give My Life for You,” Kim’s life is the focus, from her entrance to her exit.

And everything in between is what will surely take the breath away and break the hearts of anyone in attendance of this production of Miss Saigon, a production that not only shines a light on an unfortunate international moment of the past, but on the continued problems with humanity and inhumanity with which our world still struggles.

Plainclothes has all the hallmarks of a dynamic show – a parade of interesting and believable characters, fast-paced and witty dialog, even a socially meaningful storyline, and great performances by the cast.

Premiering at The Den Theatre and written by Spenser Davis, who also co-directs (with Kanomé Jones) Plainclothes tells the story of the security guards who are charged with stopping shoplifting at a Michigan Avenue store that sounds very much like Macy’s. While the retail areas of the store are elegant and packed with luxury goods, the security detail is squeezed into less-than-savory quarters hidden away from public view.

A retinue of shoplifting types parades across the stage as we gaze on in curiosity. Some truly need or  want the goods, others are habitual offenders, and then there are the dilettantes, more in it for the game than the ill-gotten gains. One recurring offender is the effeminate Jomal (Ben F. Locke), in short shorts and bare midriff, who has been banned from the store. Another is Pete (David Weiss) who is also famous as a YouTube personality.

But the biggest focus is on this plain clothes loss-prevention crew, who prowl the aisles on the lookout for theft by customers, or even by the store staff  - individuals tracked down by “Internal” store detectives.

Cashiers such as Mary (RjW Mays) and other staffers who turn in shoplifters are also given bonuses. We learn that race, gender and age of perpetrators is recorded in statistical reports, a matter that is material to the retailer's consumer relations, and to the plot.

The crew is multi-culturally diverse, which also figures in the plot: Llermo (Alejandro Tey), is a warm, funny young Latino, with an eye for ladies; T (Stephanie Shum), a hot-blooded lesbian Asian also with an eye for the ladies; Alma (Teresa Kuruvilea), a South Asian security officer; Stevie (Kim Boler), an aspiring white police cadet; Bobby (Adam Soule) a young white bro who is on the rise; and Karina (Carmen Molina), a mixed-race guard who keeps watch on the video camera feeds from around the store.

The dialog of the team is fast-paced and laced with the shorthand that those immersed in loss prevention security would know – though occasionally it goes over the head of the audience. It’s also loaded with contemporary dish ("Unfriended, deleted, blocked!") and goofy rankings (Michael Buble versus Brittney Spears). 

We are also faced with unique aspect of a contemporary social issue: this diverse “loss prevention” team is accused of catching too few mature white shoplifters and too many young black teens. The crew objects to the charge, grumbling that their varied ethnicities should protect them from charges of prejudice. “I’m getting profiled; I don’t do the profiling,” objects Llermo. “We get fired; white guys get transferred,” laments Karina.  

Nevertheless, they determine to try for those harder to nab but more prized thieves. Things go awry when rookie Stevie gets knifed by a thief, and the plot becomes complicated – and frankly, it gets somewhat lost in its own details.

Davis has based the play on his own experiences working in the very job the play describes, and it tells. The lingo and setting are convincing, with perpetrators handcuffed to a bench while they either pay fines or await the police. The situations conjured up are spot on, as well. And the tribulations of the workplace resonate with everyone who has been paid for productivity – which in this case means catching more thieves before they get out the door.

Davis says he wants Plainclothes to follow the pattern of Broken Nose Theatre’s production of At The Table last year, which was developed, workshopped, and then produced in New York before moving on to Chicago.

Plainclothes offers plenty of potential but the for such development, but will need some more refinement. There are dozens of memorable lines but some, while entertaining, distract from the advance of the action. There are probably a couple characters too many in the show. And the byzantine array of details and events makes it a little difficult to distinguish the high points in the turns of the plot.

The performances are very good, with Alejandro Tey, Ben F. Locke, and Carmen Molina real standouts. Even stronger are Rob Frankel as Jim, the older white guy from management. Frankel is a seasoned performer, and it shows. And RjW Mays is kind of a scene stealer, amping up her smaller role to something delightful. Shum is full throttle in her delivery, and maybe should vary the volume a bit. 

Plainclothes definitely has legs as a theatrical work, and hopefully it will get some refinements if the producers choose a next iteration. Regardless, this is still a fun show, and with tickets at Broken Nose’s “pay-what-you-can” scale, Plainclothes is well worth a look at The Den Theatre, running through December 15.

Marriott Theatre brings yet another high-energy, song and dance production to its audience, this time mounting the regional premiere of ‘Holiday Inn’, a sentimental musical based on the 1942 film of the same name featuring the music of Irving Berlin and starring such great as Fred Astaire, Bing Crosby and Marjorie Reynolds. Directed and choreographed by Tony Award nominee Denis Jones and musically directed by Jeff Award winning Ryan T. Nelson, ‘Holiday Inn’ might just be one of Marriott’s greatest triumphs over the past few years.

“I am completely elated to revisit my work from the Broadway production of ‘Holiday Inn’ at the Marriott Theatre,” says Jones. It’s an honor to celebrate some of the greatest works of Irving Berlin and join forces with some of the most talented actors in theatre. With mesmerizing costumes and equally enthralling performances, audiences will leave with a few holiday surprises and a whole lot of holiday spirit.”

And though classics such as “White Christmas”, “Easter Parade”, “Blue Skies”, “Heat Wave”, “Be Careful, It’s my Heart” and “Shaking the Blues Away” are performed to perfection, it is the dance numbers in this production that truly steal the audience’s breath.

Jim Hardy (Michael Mahler) and Ted Hanvover (Will Burton) are best friends. The two entertainers have found a tremendous amount of success in New York as a song and dance trio that also stars Lila Dixon (Kimberly Immanuel). Lila and Jim are also quite the item and Jim wants nothing more to marry her. But the New York scene has run its course with Jim, so he also wants to hang up his tap shoes and take to the country. He proposes to his Lila, who accepts, and then shows her the deed to a farmhouse in Connecticut that he has just purchased in the hopes she would also want to give up show biz for a quiet life in the country. So, maybe he should have discussed such a major decision with Lila prior to making such a large purchase. When the three are offered a six-month touring engagement, Lila breaks Jim’s heart and hits the road with Ted. So it’s off to the country, alone, for Jim.

Dejected, Jim soon arrives at his newly purchased farmhouse ranch only to find Louise (Marya Grandy), a self-proclaimed “fixit man”, kind of comes with the house. In exchange for room and board, Louise will tend to the farmhouse but her title of “fixit man” extends much beyond the home itself. It isn’t long before the daughter of the previous owners, Linda Mason (Johanna McKenzie Miller), stops by to pick up some of the things that were left behind when the farmhouse was foreclosed upon. It isn’t long before a friendship develops and perhaps a spark ignites between them. It also isn’t long before Jim realizes farming might not be for him and longs for the stage again. And, as it turns out, Linda just so happens to have some performing experience of her own. But why go back to New York when you can bring New York to you? Just after Jim gets a surprise visit from a large group of performing friends, he comes up with the idea of turning the farmhouse into an entertainment getaway. After all, he’s got the floor space and plenty of rooms for guests. When his performer friends cannot commit to regular shows because of their own hectic schedules, it is decided shows will only be staged over the holidays – thus, ‘Holiday Inn’.

As chemistry builds between Jim and Linda, a drunken Ted reappears during opening night who briefly dances with Linda and soon has his sights on her as his new dance partner since Lila has left him for a Texas millionaire. Jim quickly finds himself in a similar situation, so we can only hope things will turn out differently for the all-around nice guy who may have found love once again.

‘Holiday Inn’ is filled with big, spirited dance numbers that are pure visual delights and the highlights are many. Will Burton’s recreation of Astaire’s “Let’s Say it with Firecrackers” is certainly one of them as he brilliantly taps his way around the stage with a bang – several bangs in fact. Johanna McKenzie Miller also leaves a strong impression, beautifully showcasing her amazing voice in such songs as “Nothing More to Say” and “White Christmas”. And throughout the talented dancing and singing offered in this production, Marya Grandy balances out the show with her incredibly funny performance as Louise, adding plenty of laugh out loud moments. A world-class ensemble that includes the familiar faces of Joe Capstick, Adam LaSalle, Laura Savage and Alejandro Fonseca pushes this musical into overdrive, while Lorenzo Rush Jr. as agent Danny Reed is a pleasure to watch in every scene he graces and child actor Patrick Scott McDermott also adds several moments of well-delivered humor.

Marriott Theatre presents a gem of a holiday treat that can be enjoyed by everyone. ‘Holiday Inn’ runs through January 6th and is highly recommended. For tickets and/or more show information visit www.MarriottTheatre.com.

I started playing guitar at age eleven, but I started my first band at fifteen playing drums. The reason why I stuck with guitar is songwriting. I wanted to write songs. The guitar is a good, self-contained unit, a perfect vehicle for writing.

Singer/songwriters tend to either be piano players or guitar players. Think about this a minute. How many instruments are there that you can play and sing at the same time? How many instruments are polyphonic? You can create anything from a simple song to relatively complex arrangements on the guitar.

The form of the song is a good place to start. There are forms like the Blues that are essentially loops. It is a twelve-bar form. The same harmonic structure is repeated throughout the song. The song also usually does no form of key modulation.

The standard song form for years was thirty-two bars. This is usually an AABA form. That means an eight-bar section (A), followed by a very similar section (A again), a contrasting section (B) and returns to where it started (A once more). A lot of standards are in the AABA form. The whole form is often repeated.

There are also strophic songs which are like poems which can have several repeated verses. You can also have verse, chorus, repeat. These can also have a bridge which may be referred to as B.

None of this means that you have to stick with a basic form to write a song, there are no rules. This just gives you a jumping off point. Once bands started writing their own material more often, things started to change. A lot of those players were not educated in the same manner as songwriters of old. They wrote by feel in many ways.

Another thing to consider is a song can be sectional or in movements. That can almost be like a series of different forms. For example, you could have three different AABA sections in a row and that can be your song. In Classical music there are forms that essentially assemble smaller forms like that. ABACA is called rondo form. Each section is a small composition itself. A lot of musicians don’t pay enough attention to form.

So, break out your guitar and some paper and try writing a song. You can make it anything from a Pop song to a work involving many movements. The choice is yours. You can keep the song in your head, but writing it down makes it easier to communicate your ideas to other musicians. This can be in standard notation or simple maps to show the form. Have fun and get creative!

It’s an intriguing proposition for a play: two actors meet for the first time on stage. One, the First Actor,  has rehearsed the play, while the Second Actor has never even read it.

In An Oak Tree, this dynamic repeats for each day’s performance – 22 in all by the time it ends its run on December 9 - with a freshly cast Second Actor encountering anew the script, the audience, and the actor he plays against.

Written by Tim Crouch, An Oak Tree is also a daring exercise in dramatic abstraction, and a multi-layered exploration of meta-theatrical performance.

The storyline gives a suggestion of how An Oak Tree plays out. The First Actor is a stage hypnotist (played by Gage Wallace with tremendous precision and verve), putting on shows that incorporate audience participation - giving us the first of those meta layers, a “show within the show.”

The dramatic tension rises as we learn that First Actor’s little girl has been killed in a car accident, and that Second Actor is the responsible party. Calling for volunteers from the audience (but it’s another layer, an imaginary audience - we live patrons were warned at the outset not to volunteer), the First Actor sees among the audience volunteers the very driver (the Second Actor) who killed the little girl.

First Actor’s grief and anger rise. He hypnotizes Second Actor and puts him through a series of demeaning exercises, including an admission of guilt for the act. The eight other volunteers (none are visible, of course) are dismissed, so that only Second Actor and First Actor remain.

The dynamics become ugly between First Actor and the hypnotized Second Actor, who slips in and out of awareness in this scene, and there is increasing discomfit between the two characters. We feel the discomfort as well, and witness a shift in power between the characters as the scene progresses.

So how does a non-scripted character perform his or her role (both men and women are cast as Second Actor, including Alejandro Tey the night I saw the show). Actors are freewheeling spirits, generally – but they do like to rehearse the script, and to be prepared before they enter the stage. An Oak Tree has elements of improvisational performance and sight-reading of lines. These 22 venturesome Second Actors – Alejandro Tey showed his quick wit and deft dramatic skills - have willingly subjected themselves to the trial devised by Crouch's play.

As to practicalities of producing the show, Crouch and director Jeremy Aluma allow First Actor to brief the real live audience on some background, and their role, as the show commences. When Second Actor is introduced, he or she is given two or three pages of dialog to read from directly, at various points. And Second Actor also wears an audio device to receive whispered verbal cues from First Actor, who at other times offers those cues and prompts aloud, or whispers them into the ear of Second Actor.

This one-hour show by Red Theater is provocative and intriguing, even mind-bending for avid theater goers. It will have you thinking about it for days afterward. An Oak Tree is at Chicago's Athenaeum Theatre through December 9. 

Chicago Opera Theater opened their 2018-2019 season with the Chicago Premier of Peter Tchaikovsky’s ‘Iolanta’. Since this performance was also the Chicago debut of Lidiya Yankovskaya, COT’s new Stanley Music Director, it was an auspicious occasion for the company embarking on their 45th season. It also marked the first full season of Chicago Opera Theater’s Vanguard Initiative, committed to bringing newer and lesser known works to Chicago on the stage of the charming Studebaker Theater in the Fine Arts Building. In collaboration with Roosevelt University, COT has a respected young artist program, giving opportunities to promising singing actors. For Chicago audiences, it is a welcome complement to the much grander Lyric Opera of Chicago.

When one thinks of Tchaikovsky’s operas, and Russian opera in general, epic stories, casts of hundreds and massive choruses come to mind. Not so in Tchaikovsky’s final opera, ‘Iolanta’. As with last season’s offering, Donizetti’s final opera, Rita, (is this a theme?) ‘Iolanta’ is a more intimate work, and runs about an hour and a half. Nevertheless, it has the romantic sweep of Tchaikovsky’s style that tugs at the heart strings while rousing large as life passions, presaging the later works of Stravinsky and Rachmaninov.

A 2018 recipient of the Solti Foundation Career Assistance Award, Maestra Yankovskaya’s debut in the pit was promising and gratifying. She brought out all the pathos and grandness in the lush score, without ever overpowering the singers, quite an accomplishment in an intimate theater with such an exposed orchestra pit. This is most encouraging. If she can just get her strings to play in tune, under her leadership it will be an outstanding ensemble. We were fortunate for the heavenly harp played by Lillian Lau, a measure of a truly professional opera company.

The story of ‘Iolanta’ could be a simple fairy tale; Princess ‘Iolanta’ has been blind from birth. Her father, the loving and powerful King René, has kept this a secret from her, and instructed, upon pain of death, that the fact that she is blind never be revealed to her. Since childhood, ‘Iolanta’ has been betrothed to Robert, the Duke of Burgundy, but Robert has since fallen in love with another. Because the marriage of Robert and ‘Iolanta’ is pending, King René has engaged the services of an exotic doctor, Ibn Hakla, to try to cure his sightless daughter. Dr. Ibn Hakla, who employs the metaphysical and the psychological in his treatments, proclaims that ‘Iolanta’ will never be able to see unless she knows that she is blind. Honoring his betrothal, Robert comes to claim his bride, but his friend, Vaudemont, gets a glimpse of ‘Iolanta’ and is instantly enchanted. Vaudemont sneaks past a No Trespassing On Pain of Death sign to try to meet ‘Iolanta’. As they engage in a mild flirtation, Vaudemont professes his love. As a remembrance, he asks her to give him a red rose from the bouquet of red and white rose which ‘Iolanta’ carries. When ‘Iolanta’ is not able to pick out a red rose, Vaudemont discovers that ‘Iolanta’ cannot see and reveals it to her. Predictably, the two are discovered together, and Vaudemont is condemned to death. ‘Iolanta’’s love for Vaudemont makes her choose to allow Dr. Ibn Hakla to operate. The operation is successful, Vaudemont is pardoned, and all live happily ever after. Aside from the obvious, “you can’t solve a problem until you acknowledge it” the myriad possible interpretations make this opera a fascinating study in how we deal with all that comes along with being human.

The cast is stellar without exception. Katherine Weber, assuming the title role, is a singer to watch very closely. She is much more than just another cookie-cutter soprano, her large, distinctive voice is sweet and sturdy, with a wide spectrum of color, and burgeoning with tremendous promise. Her characterization was sympathetic and touching.

Mikhail Svetlov as King René is a spectacular true Russian bass. He tempered the role of René with understanding and presence. It is hard to imagine anyone singing the role any more beautifully than Svetlov. He had the regal bearing of a king and the tenderness of a father suffering for his daughter’s plight. His performance, alone, would make this production a must-see.

As Vaudemont, John Irvin has a slightly stiff stage presence, but he sang with vocal ease and treated us to some of the best high notes we’ve heard anywhere this season. In his aria, which was not part of the original score, he seemed a little uncomfortable, but once that was out of the way, he has a natural charm which made his performance entirely compelling and believable.

Operas with two major Baritone roles are quite unusual. Christopher Magiera, as a deliciously randy Robert, Duke of Burgundy, tossed off his devilishly difficult aria with aplomb. Magiera has the natural stage presence and effortless high notes demanded by the most difficult Bel Canto baritone roles. Bill McMurray, as Dr. Ibn Hakla, delivered a slightly more dramatic sound which suited the mystically transcendental requirements of that role. His aria was vocally spectacular, even if the staging was somewhat obtuse.

Important smaller roles were well sung and capably acted by Emma Ritter, Katherine Peterson, Annie Rosen, David Goversten and Aaron Short. It is gratifying to see that young singers of this quality are receiving professional mentoring in Chicago which is all-important to launching successful careers.

The sets designed by Alan E. Murakova were intriguing, and as lit by Lighting & Projection designer Driscoll Otto, occasionally quite stunning, but served little useful dramatic purpose. And they moved around all night. Not just between scenes, but during scenes too, being pushed around by the singers to no real purpose, achieving nothing. At times it seemed as though the opera was more about set pieces dancing around, than anything else. Oh please, it’s an opera, not a ballet for flats. In spite of that, when the set pieces were allowed to stay still and accept Mr. Otto’s visuals, they did ignite the imagination. However, that wonder was unfortunately squashed by the dull and dreary costumes, which looked like recycled costumes from last year’s The Consul. You can design a production cheaply that doesn’t look cheap. And rather than tease us with an interesting setting, then keep moving it around, why not just focus on good stage craft? Famed director Paul Curran let us be distracted from an otherwise honest and meaningful reading with all this unnecessary shuffling around of castered corner pieces. And although Curran did tell the story well, he did not help his young cast with the elementary stage movement. Too often, to use a nautical phrase, singers were caught in irons, with nowhere to go, or having to make an awkward La Scala cross from down-stage left to up-stage right while singing. A director of Curran’s reputation should know how to do better for his actors.

Despite the technical distractions, ‘Iolanta’ is delightful, beautifully sung and movingly performed by a supremely talented cast of young singers.
The Doctor’s orders: See ‘Iolanta’!

There are two additional performances – Thursday evening November 15 at 7:30 pm and Sunday afternoon November 18 at 3 pm. Don’t miss it! Go to chicagooperatheater.org.

It’s a rare treat to get to experience anything as unique as Manual Cinema’s production of ‘Frankenstein’ at Court Theatre. With several productions of ‘Frankenstein’ going on this year, one might wonder how they’re each distinguishing themselves. Manual Cinema’s original adaptation is just that, a manual cinema. Told with intricate shadow puppets on classroom overhead projectors, ‘Frankenstein’ is like spending the evening in a toy box.

In a collaboration with Court Theatre as part of their season, Manual Cinema returns to University of Chicago where they started. The company was formed in 2012 by University of Chicago faculty members and has since evolved into an internationally acclaimed performance art troupe. Manual Cinema still resides in Chicago.

This theatrical production of ‘Frankenstein’ is unlike anything you have ever seen. Drew Dir’s concept closely follows Mary Shelley’s novel and even includes an intermittent story arc about how Mary Shelley came to write ‘Frankenstein’. Unlike a traditional play, this production contains no spoken dialogue. Instead, the cast furiously dashes around the set creating a visual splendor on several overhead projectors. Though, there are scenes of more traditional acting or, pantomime, layered into the play as well. The show is projected onto a main screen but it’s nearly impossible not to sneak away glances to the corners where the visuals are being created. A live orchestra beautifully scores the play with original music composed by Kyle Vegter and Ben Kauffman.

This production is riveting. Not only are the projections and music sumptuous but the shadowy atmosphere created by Manual Cinema is haunting. The staging is set up in a way that encourages the audience to watch how the projections are created. The story is somewhat simplified but in that simplicity is an almost pop-up book version of Shelley’s classic horror story. The cinematic score propels the action and provides an emotional component to the piece. The two-hour run time seems to breeze by and you’re left not wanting the excitement to end.

‘Frankenstein’ is Manual Cinema’s sixth full length show but hopefully that means there will be plenty more. If you’re wondering which ‘Frankenstein’ to see this fall, this is the one. There is surely nothing else like it.

Through December 1st at Court Theatre. 5535 S Ellis Avenue. 773-753-4472

Blue Man Group premiered the newest version of its show Thursday night at Briar Street Theater, where it has been ensconced since 1997 – making it the longest running act in Chicago. 

Wearing shiny blue face paint, skull masks covering hair and ears, and blue rubber gloves, the Blue Men are clad in non-descript black sweat suits and soft leather boots, giving the individual performers a generic look - though the program gives bios of seven Blue Men whose background trends toward percussionists. The Blue Men move with reptilian precision, navigating the stage, and inspecting each other and audience members in an inherently hilarious manner.

The updated 90-minute program, which is described as "new moments" in this latest iteration (developed by director Michael Dahlen and creative director Jeff Turlik) is a series of sketches that includes some now legendary vignettes, a bit of it inspired by that adolescent humor in which bored frat boys might engage on Saturday morning.

But Blue Man Group is also transgressive, breaking the  bounds of propriety and expectations – a steady series of small shocks that is provocative and creative. The vibrant additions to the show give audiences a whole new reason to attend the Blue Man Group - even if they have seen it before. 

In a reprise of greatest hits the Blue Men chomp and spit out Cap’n Crunch (ewwww!); unerringly catch by mouth marshmallows (and paint balls) hurled 30 feet across the stage; and pound paint-laden drums, splashing the audience – the first five rows of which wears protective ponchos.

One fixture of the shows is a large screen projection of a video cam that follows embarrassed latecomers to their seats. Another pins an audience member against a large canvass and Blue Men shoot paint at them from super soakers. Volunteers for this and several other scenes are selected silently by the blue performers, and frankly no one resists. The troupe marches across the top of the audience's seats, picks through shopping bags and incorporates the ticket holders into the act. 

Another  recurring feature is the selection of quirky hand-built musical instruments whose components could have been sourced from Home Depot’s plumbing aisle and a bike mechanic’s benchtop. From PVC pipe and other elements, the group has long created such devices, one of which is a cross between a drum and a trombone – sounding like a digiroo. Newly constructed and remastered instruments include the Light Horns and the Trigger Vibes. Original music compositions in this updated Chicago production include the theatrical debut of “Vortex,” a piece from Blue Man Group’s latest studio album “THREE.”

For its latest show, the Trigger Vibes percussion instrument has grown to the size of a pipe organ, and is beaten with paddles, generating loud xylophonic sounds. Another addition is a stringed instrument, the Spinulum, that looks like a tall vertical slide guitar crossed with a bicycle drive train. Though the Blue Men are always silent, the instruments are not, and a back-up band behind a screen in a loft above the stage is even louder – unfortunately at times overshadowing the Blue Men’s acoustical efforts.

Awareness of this trio of blue-masked men is high, with more than one million tickets sold to their shows in Chicago, which combine drumming, mime, music, original digital video, and in the latest version an even higher degree of audience participation. The performers were historically largely anonymous, and are likely interchangeable among the major cities in which Blue Man Group claims residence: Berlin, New York, Orlando, Boston, Las Vegas. I’ve seen them in three cities for a total of seven shows over the years.  

That’s more than I’ve seen of a similar stage syndication, Cirque de Soleil, which acquired Blue Man Group from its founders in July 2017.  Like Cirque, Blue Man Group is also a marketing phenomenon, performing private shows and at conventions, and releasing albums. YouTube videos of their NPR Tiny Desk appearance will give you a feel for the music. A clip of Blue Man Group’s Meditation for Winners (not performed in this show, unfortunately) is both hilarious and a trenchant social commentary.

Though the Blue Men are genericized in dress, Scott Bishop, Tom Galassi, Eric Gebow, Callum Grant, Gareth Hinsley, Michael Angelo Smith and Brian Tavener are credited in the program (three perform in each show). 

In fact, Blue Man Group is not just silly, but through the years has maintained implicit social commentary in its shows about the perils of surrendering our humanity to technology. The audience must swear a pledge to disconnect from its phones during the show, and one very powerful sketch finds three individuals wearing a digital Find Friends apparatus, which leads them on a wild goose chase (complete with a Wayze- or Google-like GMS misdirection) to find friends – who were actually standing right next to them to begin with. The strength of this single vignette is enough to merit a ticket to the new show.

Bringing out a new show is certainly a bit unnerving for the creative team behind Blue Man Group, given its origins as a just-for-fun street performance art team in New York City. It was formalized in 1991 by founders Chris Wink, Phil Stanton, and Matt Goldman. And like successful rock starts, the Blue Men must balance the demands of a growing roster of greatest hits, with a need to refresh the show, stay current, and be true to their own creative leadings. Packing the hits up front gave them just a whiff of being obligatory, while the new stuff seemed a bit squeezed in the remainder of the program. Nevertheless, having seen Blue Man Group multiple times, I still laughed spontaneously throughout. This show is highly recommended – catch it at at the Briar Street Theater. 

As the house lights dimmed and the actors took to the stage, an odd play began to unfold at Steppenwolf’s 1700 Theater. Lights appeared to direct the actors where to go, the actors didn’t act as though they were acting, and perched on my corner aisle seat actresses raced by to leap onto the backs of other actors. I wondered if having that second glass of wine was a good idea. But what was unfolding before me was a beautiful, complex, original, and exquisitely choreographed production of The Better Half presented by Lucky Plush Productions.

The Better Half is a dance-theater spin on the 1944 psychological thriller Gaslight, directed by George Cukor. Launching from this classic film, layers of fiction and reality accumulate, revealing the elusive boundaries between performer and character, actual and scripted relationships, life versus borrowed plot lines. Ultimately a new narrative emerges, capturing the habitual patterns, escapist tendencies, and resilience in contemporary relationships through a complex mix of dance and theater languages.

Rhoads and Danzig approached the staging of The Better Half with a commitment to actual experience. The performers are first and foremost themselves. They are assigned characters. The thriller plot is handed to them. The imposed elements cause the performers to react, and their reactions further the plot. The actual effects on the performers in trafficking between the composed plot and the live circumstances deliver a coherent narrative arc that grapples with fact and illusion, life and art and the way these opposites can get entangled.

The 1700 Theater is Steppenwolf’s newest theater; a casual, intimate and flexible 80-seat space dedicated to showcasing the work of ensemble and emerging local theater companies. With the entrance conveniently located through the bar, it set the mood perfectly for the avant garde production. This surprising, confusing, and intriguing play made for a more unusual theatrical experience than the normal Chicago theater soon. It pairs best with a crisp chardonnay.

On November 10 and 17, take advantage of a discounted Lucky Plush Saturday double feature with a work-in-progress showing of Rink Life at 5 pm, and the signature Lucky Plush work The Better Half at 8 pm. Tickets are available through November 17th and can be purchased at https://www.steppenwolf.org.

Refuge Theatre Project likes to pick up what it calls under-appreciated musicals and put them on in non-traditional settings.

They hit that mark with The Last Session, an off-off-Broadway musical from 1997 that ran for about 20 weeks off-Broadway. Set in a 1990s Los Angeles recording studio, this production takes place in a real-life commercial music recording studio, Atlas Arts Studio at 4809 N. Ravenswood – giving complete realism to the setting and excellent sound quality for the performances.

Directed by Christopher Pazdernik, The Last Session tells the story of Gideon, a 1990s songwriter, who is tiring in his battle against AIDS. (In the early years of the epidemic, the treatments for the disease were much more intrusive than today’s refined drugs, with brutal after-effects like those associated with powerful cancer chemotherapies.)

Gideon’s medical weariness has led him to a decision to end his life – but he wants to do it after recording one last album. This concept album-in-the-making is to capture Gideon's life journey, from son of a Texas preacher, to married religious musician (the "Baptist Barry Manilow"), then to a man living in an openly gay relationship and penning pop-music hits. It also will capture his battle with AIDS. 

The Last Session is largely autobiographical, with music and lyrics by Steve Schalchlin – the real life Gideon - with book by Jim Brochu, his lover. Brochu encouraged Schalchlin (who was, like Gideon, suffering with AIDS) to channel his angst into a creative work. Thus, The Last Session stage musical. 

It's a workable dramatic piece, with interesting characters (all of them in the music business) and motivations for the encounters on stage – though the plot is contrived, e.g., no one knows it’s his last session - they only know that they must sing in a cold read from the sheet music, and each take is to be the final track recording.

As the play opens, we meet two back-up singers for this session who are also sworn enemies: Schalchlin’s ex-wife Vicki (a zestful performance a tad overplayed by Elizabeth Bollar); and a dishing-but-wise diva, Tryshia (Darilyn Butler’s excellent performance is on another plane from the show). And then there is Buddy (Ryan Armstrong is surely Broadway bound), a fundamentalist fan-boy musician who has tracked Gideon down, hoping to apprentice to him. Jim gets hired for The Last Session recording too, discovering to his horror that his Christian idol has veered from the path of righteousness, to put it mildly.

Putting in a striking performance as the star, Gideon, is Erik Pearson – who plays and sings affectingly and with deep conviction - performing pretty much continuously through the two acts. Pearson is mesmerizingly good. This demanding role has him at the piano, singing or speaking, almost non-stop. Brochu and Schalchlin modeled Gideon from real life, and Pearson inhabits that role.

What about the music? It’s good, even very good. The songs run the gamut from comical ditties, sensitive ballads, and lots of blues-inflected tunes. There are a several memorable pieces – Going It Alone is a standout. (You can hear The Last Session soundtrack through Spotify). http://www.thelastsession.com

As a gay-themed play, The Last Session is much more personal and focused than, say, Torch Song Trilogy or Angels in America. It’s a personal story and a good showcase of Schalchlin’s range as a songwriter. See The Last Session through December 2, 2019 at Atlas Art Studio.