Items filtered by date: November 2007

There’s nothing new about Antigone. Sophocles wrote it in 440BC, and we all read it (under duress) in high school, my most vivid memory of which is Mrs. Thatcher printing ‘ANTIGONE’ on the chalkboard, and Patrick Tyrrell sneaking up to print ‘P’ at the beginning. Recent adaptations have used Antigone to comment on The Patriot Act; have styled the dead Polynices as a terrorist threat and Antigone into a "dangerous subversive;" and as a commentary on the shooting of Michael Brown in Ferguson, Missouri.

Today, Redtwist Theatre presents a new translation by Anne Carlson, whose “light-fingered, colloquial and cutting” language provides a fresh view of Greek tragedy in the twenty-first century. Her translation makes the entire production not only accessible but topical.

The story is simple. Antigone is sister to Eteocles and Polynices, who led opposing sides in Thebes' civil war and died fighting each other for the throne. Kreon, king of Thebes decrees that Eteocles will be honored while the rebel brother Polynices lies unsanctified on the battlefield. Antigone defies the edict,buries her brother, and argues the immorality of the edict and the morality of her own actions.

Kreon remains intransigent until blind Tiresias prophesies that all of Greece will despise him. Urged on by the terrified Chorus, Kreon finally relents. Too late, of course: Antigone has hanged herself and a grieving Haemon attacks Kreon, then slays himself. Kreon, beside himself with remorse, then learns his wife Eurydice has killed herself. Kreon, a broken man, stumbles away.

So many of the themes portrayed in Antigone speak directly to 2022. It exposes the dangers of the absolute ruler, a king to whom few will speak their true opinions freely and openly– does that ring any bells? Civil disobedience is a major theme: the individual’s right to reject society's infringement on her freedom to perform a personal obligation. Certainly SCOTUS would do well to reflect on this.  Citizenship is also at issue: Kreon holds that citizenship is a contract, and Polynices’ attack on the city revokes his citizenship. For Kreon, as absolute ruler of the state, loyalty to the state comes before family fealty. He is punished by Haemon killing himself when he finds Antigone dead.

Redtwist Theatre is a tiny storefront venue that takes advantage of its close quarters by inviting the audience into the action. Director Christine Freije extends this – at first I thought the various people sweeping the floor and wiping the walls were … I don’t know, maybe being extra-careful about covid cleanliness? until Antigone arrests them by slamming her shovel into the ground.

Antigone, played by Isabel Alamin, beautifully portrays the deeply-committed and doomed woman. When she’s onstage one sees nobody else. Natalie Welber, as her sister Ismene, demonstrates the ambivalence of a law-abiding citizen wrenched from her comfort zone by love of family. Brian Parry paints the spectrum from Kreon’s monarchical obstinacy to the anguish of a bereaved father and husband, and Nick Shank’s Haemon ably depicts filial love eroding under Kreon’s stubbornness. Peter Ferneding brings a welcome injection of humor as Guard. As so often in Greek theatre, Chorus has a big role, and Andrew Bosworth as its leader keeps the story woven together. The remainder of the Chorus played additional roles: Joan Nahid [Euridice], Peter Ferneding [Guard], Maddy Moderhack [Messenger] and Javier Carmona [Teiresias] slid effortlessly from one role to another.

I can’t wait another minute to praise Costume Designer Anna Bodell! I do some sewing myself, and I have to admit I was occasionally diverted from the play’s action by trying to figure out: what is he wearing? and how did she do that?!  Ordinary clothes are pieced together in extraordinary ways, with stunning results.

The stark simplicity of the set and economy of props keeps our focus on the performances, while light and sound preclude a curtain. Director Christine Freije knits it all together seamlessly – and all is made possible by Anne Carlson’s fresh translation.

I loved Antigone – I may go see it again!

You’d think that a 1956 musical about a man who doesn’t like women all that much and the woman who lets him refine and control her wouldn’t hold up in 2022 (especially in light of the recent Roe v. Wade reversal which gives women far less control over their bodies and lives), but surprisingly for that very reason, it does.

Lerner and Lowe’s classic stage musical My Fair Lady — based on the 1913 George Bernard Shaw play Pygmalion — tells the story of Eliza Doolittle, a young flower seller with a thick Cockney accent that all but requires subtitles, and Henry Higgins, an exacting phonetics scholar obsessed with the English language and its various dialects. When he proposes that he could make coarse, street urchin Eliza passable as a duchess within six months, Eliza is intrigued. She shows up at his home asking for speech lessons so she can learn to speak “more genteel” and get hired at a proper flower shop. Thus begins the fraught relationship between Eliza and Henry, their days filled with vowel exercises and an inordinate amount of yelling.

Laird Mackintoshas Professor Henry Higgins andShereen Ahmedas Eliza Doolittle in The LincolnCenter Theater Production of Lerner & Loewe’s My Fair Lady

This 2022 tour of the 2018 Broadway revival features a well-rounded cast, a fantastic orchestra, and gorgeous, lush sets and costumes. Shereen Ahmed in the title role is beautiful, endearing, and sympathetic as Eliza; she’s easy to root for. And she’s done an impressive job mastering Eliza’s uncouth Cockney as well as her polished English accent that first breaks through in the song “The Rain in Spain Stays Mainly in the Plain”. Her counterpart Henry Higgins, played by Laird Mackintosh, is often infuriating with his condescension but reveals enough vulnerability to show he’s capable of being changed by Eliza as much as she is by him.

If you’ve never seen My Fair Lady onstage or the 1964 film starring Audrey Hepburn, you’re still likely to recognize one or two of its songs. “On the Street Where You Live” has been ubiquitously covered, and “I Could Have Danced All Night” is easily the musical’s most recognizable song. Other notable numbers include “Wouldn’t It Be Loverly”, “Get Me to the Church on Time”, and “I’ve Grown Accustomed to Her Face”. There really isn’t a bad song in the show. 

Throughout the production, there’s some subtle birdcage imagery: First, we see that one of Eliza’s few prized possessions is an empty birdcage, and second, the elaborate set for a ballroom scene where Eliza first makes her debut as a high-society lady showcases outlines of peacocks outside of empty birdcages. As Henry suggests at the start of the story, Eliza’s lower-class dialect has held her back in life, trapped her where she is. She’s a woman of wit, charm, beauty, and street smarts, but 1913 London society can’t look past her unpolished appearance or hear past her unrefined, loose-voweled accent. Learning to speak “properly” sets her free, opening her up to worlds she never would have been allowed into before.

Kevin Pariseauas Colonel Pickering,Laird Mackintoshas Professor Henry Higgins andShereenAhmedas Eliza Doolittle in The Lincoln Center Theater Production of Lerner & Loewe’s My Fair Lady

Though Henry’s lessons enrich Eliza’s life, his treatment of her, especially in the first half of the show, is undeniably harsh. In fact, he seems to have a problem with women as a whole. In one of his songs, “I’m an Ordinary Man”, he rants about women’s fickleness and sentimentality, repeating the line, “I will never let a woman in my life”.  I wasn’t sure how audiences would react to this song or the character of Henry Higgins in 2022. 

But as I said, My Fair Lady surprisingly holds up. Because we view the story through a different lens now. In the 50s, they likely laughed with the man and his exasperation with an insufferable woman, and in 2022, we laugh at the man’s outdated ideals — not to mention the woman’s exasperation with the insufferable man.

My Fair Lady is playing at the Cadillac Palace Theatre at 151 W Randolph St. through July 10, 2022. Tickets are available at BroadwayInChicago.com or by entering the daily ticket lottery.

Not every story about gay youth is a “coming out” story. Some youth have nothing to come out of. Their lives are not spent hiding who they are. For the most part, young people today are confident and proud of who they are. They are who they are, and the world will have to deal with it. “Choir Boy,” receiving a visually and audibly beautiful staging at the Steppenwolf Theatre is the story of one such boy.

Pharus Young, is a junior at the Charles Drew Prep School for boys. Pharus, (exuberantly played by Tyler Hardwick) is clearly different from the other boys. He is comfortably gay, proud and most of all, talented ……and he knows it. During Senior graduation where Pharus is singing the school song, “Trust and Obey”, he is heckled by Bobby (thuggishly handsome, Gilbert Domally), who happens to be the headmaster’s nephew. Bobby calls Pharus among other things, “sissy” and the dreaded “f” word.

The headmaster (a comical turn by La Shawn Banks) tries to help Pharus by telling him to “tighten up”, code for act straight. Pharus, to prove he is indeed a “Drew” man refuses to tell on his tormentor, although Bobby thinks he has, which leads to more confrontation and taking of sides. Pharus instead confides in his athletic jock roommate, AJ (the excellent Sheldon D. Brown). AJ is the big brother we all wish we had. He understands and doesn’t judge Pharus. Why? He’s comfortable in his own skin, which makes it easier to accept other people. Not so much for the other boys, David, (the baby-faced Richard David) doesn’t want to create any problems that would interfere with his scholarship and Junior, (the comical Samuel B. Jackson) who hides behind his buddy Bobby's machismo. Each of these boys has a struggle that must be dealt with if they are to succeed.

The beautiful Greek motif set consists of the front of a Greek temple with six doric columns holding up a triangular pediment. It is interesting to note ancient Greece had no concept of sexual preference. It was assumed a person could have both hetro-and homosexual responses at different times. Both romantic love and sexual passion between men were often considered normal, and under some circumstances healthy or admirable.  Above the structure are large photos of Fredrick Douglass, Martin Luther King, Barack Obama, Malcolm X, and W.E.B. Dubois looking down on the proceedings. Beds rolled out as if my magic suggesting a dorm room making scene changes quick and effortless. Kent Gash has directed the ensemble to perfection, making clear the issues these men deal with including Mr. Pendleton (William Dick) who bring with him some special deep-seated issues.

Music in this play allows the students to express themselves in ways words would fail. Songs such as “Sometimes I feel like a Motherless Child” convey the loneliness of boarding school.

If you listen to the words closely, “Love Ballad” sung by David reveals a bit of his nature. Bobby and Junior act up when singing “Boys II Men” proving they are more boys than men. Gospel music sung a cappella by the group of boys, sounds like angels singing on high. Special notice should go to Jermaine Hill for musical direction and Byron Easley for choreography. "Rockin' in Jerusalem" by the ensemble is worth the price of admission. The cast was note perfect and well as step perfect.

Tarell Alvin McCraney has a special skill when it comes to writing about teenage boys just before manhood. McCraney is known for his Oscar winning movie “MoonLight”, but “Choir Boy” is closer to his lesser known television series “David Makes Man” Season 1. Both involve teenage men dealing with issues beyond their years.

Steppenwolf Theatre, 1650 N. Halsted St., Chicago, (312) 335-1650, steppenwolf.org

Showtimes: 8 p.m. Wednesday through Friday; 3 and 8 p.m. Saturday and Sunday, through July 24. Also 8 p.m. June 28, July 5, 12 and 19. No 8 p.m. show July 24

Running time: About 100 minutes, no intermission

Tickets: $20-$98

Parking: $15 in the Steppenwolf parking lot; limited street parking

Rating: For adults; contains nudity and mature themes

COVID-19 precautions: Proof of vaccination and masking required

I've seen a lot of Elvis Tribute Artist shows over the years and have enjoyed them all. They’re nostalgic and fun and, while some are better than others, they are always a good time. And I really love the fact that there always seems something unique in each artist that makes them special in their own way. Brandon Bennett (of Chicago's MILLION DOLLAR QUARTET) is no exception when he wowed audiences for two nights at Marriott Theatre in Lincolnshire in ‘Elvis My Way’ where the headliner performed sweet, charming and soulful versions of Elvis's classic hits in chronological order. Bennett was accompanied by two excellent backing singers and a terrific four-piece band. 

From “Blue Suede Shoes,” “Can’t Help Falling in Love,” "That's Alright Mama," and 
“Suspicious Minds”, the talented Elvis Tribute Artist (ETA) performed many fan favorites and a few that were a bit more personal to Bennet himself.

Every artist has their own take on Elvis and often chooses one of the Elvis age ranges to play based on their own looks and age, but this was the first time I really felt the sweetness and calm comforting side of Elvis performed for an entire show. Bennet connected with the audience and often told interesting stories between songs – a few I’ve never heard, like the fact “Kentucky Rain” almost became an Eddie Rabbit (author) song instead of the well-known Presley anthem we’ve all come to love.

Bennett, who has made featured television appearances on The Late Show with David Letterman, NBC Nightly News, and was named "Ultimate Elvis tribute Artist by Elvis Presley Enterprises at Graceland,” mentioned that he had personally suffered through the death of a child and made the audience feel they were really sitting in on a private, intimate performance with The King. The song he sang to his late son to get him to fall asleep was none other than “I Can’t Help Falling in Love (with You)”. His performance of that number was extremely heartfelt, and it while it was hard not to feel what he must have gone through, we also got a glimpse of how the music of Elvis has touched so many.    

Brandon apologized on a couple of occasion for unforeseen vocal issues, but I thought he sounded amazing regardless and would not have guessed his voice was not up to Bennet’s usual standards. In all, Bennet puts on one hell of a show that we can take home with us in our memories for some time.   

With the new Elvis biopic stirring up new interest in Elvis's genius for a whole new generation, this is a great time for Brandon Bennett to be in the prime of his life with a wonderful, funny, heartfelt show that I highly recommend for all ages. 

You can learn more about Brandon Bennet in "Elvis My Way' here. 

For the past two-plus years, I’d dreamed of doing all the things in Chicago that were shut down due to the pandemic. When restrictions were lifted and entertainment started to come back to the city, I was determined to say yes to every unique city experience. By far the most Chicago heavy hitting art came with the Joffrey ballet performing Don Quixote with the Lyric Opera.

Don Quixote is a ballet following the adventures of an aging knight-errant who reads epic tales of chivalry and romance, and seeks out on an adventure to revive chivalry and serve his nation, under the name Don Quixote de la Mancha. He recruits a simple farmer, Sancho Panza, as his squire, and together they travelin search of love and adventure. While Don Quixote is the focus on the ballet, the central theme is a love story; Kitri is the ballet’s feisty and wilful heroine of the ballet. When her father Lorenzo tries to marry her off for money, she doesn't play the victim, but hatches a plan to marry Basilio, the charming barber who has won her heart, and pursue her own version of happiness. It is Don Quixote who stumbles into town, sees what is transpiring and intervenes in the name of chivalry and true love.

The Joffrey principle dancers and ensemble company brought the Spanish classic to life, dancing with all the grace, talent, and poise ballet dancers can possess. Their energy was unparalleled as they leapt and twirled around the stage. The casting was perfection in Victoria Jaiani at Kitri and Dylan Guitierrez as Basilio; notably the Joffrey has a rotation of principle dancers to play the ballet’s leads, offering patrons a unique flare each performance. Set against elaborate and immersive set designs, and accompanied by a live orchestra, Don Quixote was a visual and unexpected wonder. 

The visual and auditory spendlor of the ballet was only surpassed by being in such a historic venue as the Lyric Opera. Here I was, watching some of the nation’s best dancers, perform with a world renowned orchestra, sitting comfortably in a historic Chicago landmark; post pandemic I am grateful for the chance to see such a performance and that others have the opportunity to experience this as well. Thanks to the artistic group’s mask precautions and vaccination card screenings at the door, these performances can continue to bring beauty and light into an increasingly darker world. No matter how bleak the days might seem, The Joffrey helps to remind us that there is still grace and beauty in the world to be experienced, and we must leap at the artistic opportunities when they come our way the way Don Quixote leapt at adventure.

Don Quixote runs through June 12th at the Lyric Opera House at 20 N Upper Wacker Dr, Chicago. Tickets are available at Joffrey.org.

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/.