Items filtered by date: November 2007

Literary adaptation for the stage can be tricky. Even trickier is bringing the complex work of Dostoyevsky from the page to the stage. Shattered Globe opens its season with Chris Hannan’s 2013 version of ‘Crime and Punishment’. Under the direction of Louis Contey, this unique production is fresh and exciting.

As anyone who has read the lengthy novel by Fyoder Dostoyevsky can attest, this is not an easy work to muddle through. While not the most accessible novel, those who take on the challenge will surely be rewarded by richly drawn, and somewhat disturbing scenes that linger in the memory. Hannan’s script gets right to the point. Instead of long passages of internal monologue, his Raskolnikov (Drew Schad) has fever dream conversations with the people in his life. This device ensures a much more engaging presentation, though Schad is entirely capable of carrying the monologs on his own.

Between Hannan’s script and Contey’s vision, there’s a very artful quality to this production. Unlike the novel, the plot of this play is easy to follow. The ethical debates Raskolnikov has in his head are shortened and the scene work is very strong. The murdered pawnbroker is played by Daria Harper. In her scenes with Schad, she’s nearly diabolically evil. She represents the greedy reality of the world in which Raskolnikov lives. Conversely, Harper is perfectly double cast as doting mother Pulkheria Alexandrovna. Christina Gorman plays his sister Dunya with the same grace and elegance she consistently delivers in Shattered Globe productions. Rebecca Jordan brings to life one of the novel’s most unpleasant characters, the wife of a drunkard who’s killed by an unconcerned buggy driver. Watching her unravel throughout the play is unsettling and heartbreaking.

With a peak interest in true crime shows and podcasts, ‘Crime and Punishment’ is very timely. It asks its audience whether religious morality or utility should be the guiding compass in life. Hannan, like Dostoyevsky, seems to believe that an action should be judged by its usefulness rather than its means. What we have here is a play that works to convince its audience that we should be sympathetic to a cold-blooded murderer. And it works. By the end of the play you’re on the murderer’s side. Perhaps the next time you turn on 48 Hours, put yourself in the killer’s shoes rather than the victims. Would you see it differently? Does anyone have a right to murder?

Shattered Globe dispenses with all the clichés of literary adaption and serves up an emotionally powerful interpretation of ‘Crime & Punishment’. Great performances and non-traditional storytelling make this a definitive adaption. Those who were not fans of the novel in school may find that there’s more to this story for our times than we’d like to admit.

Through October 20 at Shattered Globe Theatre. Theatre Wit, 1229 W Belmont Ave, 773-975-8150

Common sense dictates doing the right thing. On the surface, that seems obvious, but in August Wilson’s final play, Radio Golf, which premiered in 2005 and is receiving a timely and propulsive revival at Court Theatre, this is not at all clear. Though the characters are archetypal, and the situations contrived, it is precisely these extremes that cast the arguments of the play into sharp relief. What makes sense? No matter which side you choose in this examination of urban redevelopment, there is no outcome that benefits the residents of the Hill District or the protagonists of Wilson’s play, because no matter how far they have come, no matter what their ideals, it is 1997 and they are black and living in a racist America. Unfortunately, Wilson’s play has aged well—though broadly drawn, the events of the play are no less a reflection of American realities than they were two decades ago.

According to the program, director Ron OJ Parson has directed 25 productions of August Wilson’s plays. This is evident in his assured, lyrical work on this production. The characters are detailed, and the poetry of Wilson’s language emerges from the physical language of the blocking, so that the cracks in the sometimes conventional structure do not emerge until long after the final blackout. Though he allows Wilson’s humor to suffuse the evening, Parson has created a powerful and engrossing dialectic that offers much food for thought and few answers. Parson’s interpretation creates a sense of community and warm comradery among the characters, which accentuates the fact that the real threat lies beyond the action onstage. Given the surging poetry of Wilson’s script, it seems that this is the production that Wilson was writing to receive. Parson’s vision is complemented by a design team that is equally meticulous, setting the scene with unobtrusive but finely tuned details. Scenic designer Jack Magaw has created a grimy but well-appointed ground floor office for the Bedford Hills Development, Inc., jammed between neighboring buildings and accessed by a concrete stairwell. There are hints of the grandeur of the past in the tin ceiling and bay window, but the green-painted walls are stained, and the linoleum floor is more practical than elegant. Claire Chrzan lights most of the interior scenes in harsh, bright light, occasionally softened by practicals. She subtly shifts between moods and time, extending the magical realism to the windows of neighboring residences. Costume designer Rachel Anne Healy creates a period-perfect uniform for each character that allows each to evolve according to their fortunes, without veering into caricature. Sound designer Christopher M. LaPorte uses a funk-injected jazz score to set the tone, as well as contributing cool radio tracks and jarring sounds that invade the relative sanctuary of the office from the outside.

The cast of Radio Golf is uniformly excellent. As Harmond Wilks, the real estate developer hoping to bring back Pittsburgh’s Hill District while launching his bid to be mayor of both black and white citizens of the city, Allen Gilmore lends an Obama-esque, unruffled cool to his idealistic character, which gives way to almost petulant panic when he finds himself fighting for a future that seemed more secure than it turns out to be. As his golf-playing partner and newly-minted bank vice president Roosevelt Hicks, James Vincent Meredith is smoothly overbearing and casually abusive, while maintaining a boyish charm and ambition—he goes far enough in his self-serving tirades to draw derision but retains enough humanity to elicit sympathy. As Wilks’ wife, Mame Wilks, Ann Joseph is warm, no-nonsense and imperious; her attempt to open her husband’s eyes to the consequences of his choices for them both is heart-wrenching and powerful. Alfred H. Wilson plays Elder Joseph Barlow with a kinetic physicality that mirrors his scattershot philosophizing, rarely pausing as he reveals a strong gravitational center to his wandering thoughts. James T. Alfred brings comic timing and a self-aware physicality to the almost excessively forthright ex-con Sterling Johnson, who, while he has stopped punching everyone in the mouth to make himself feel good, still seems perfectly capable of doing so if he sees a need. As Wilks finds himself entangled in bonds that he thought had dissolved long ago, and Hicks finds himself presented with ways to turn his race into an asset, the battle lines are drawn, and it becomes clear that all the characters are casualties of a war that is being waged for profit by others, but there are promotions to be had if they join the winning side. As an ensemble, all the actors find the humor and good will in their characters, without allowing them to become bathetic or cartoonish. Though sometimes broadly drawn, each character finds his or her dignity in the sensitive and emotionally grounded portrayals onstage at Court.

Radio Golf alternates between laugh-out-loud (though at times decidedly un-PC) humor and incisive social commentary, spot-on examinations of familial and geographic loyalties and nearly stereotypical portraits of the members of a community and the different paths they take, and director Ron OJ Parsons and his expert cast, supported by a perfectly tuned design team, weave the tonal shifts into powerful, perfectly modulated quintet. On the surface, August Wilson’s final work may seem less haunting and lyrical than the previous plays of the ten-play Century Cycle that it completed, but this production belies that impression. Though some elements may seem facile, when the curtain comes down, one realizes that Wilson left behind a complex and uncompromising challenge for his audience. Wilson was an American who wrote about his country with awe, humor, rigor and compassion. In Radio Golf, he took on the issue of gentrification and redevelopment, and what happens when revitalization becomes disenfranchisement. In Court Theatre’s production, the play is an entertaining, empathetic and unyielding plea for doing the right thing, especially for those who wield the power to do so.

Radio Golf runs through September 30 at Court Theatre, 5535 S. Ellis Avenue, Chicago. Tickets, priced $50 - $74, are available at the Court Theatre Box Office, but calling (773)753-4472, or online at www.CourtTheatre.org.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*Extended through September 29th

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

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

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

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

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

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

*Extended through December 2nd

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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