Items filtered by date: November 2007

This is the third year that Strawdog Theatre Company is presenting its adaptation of Eric Kimmel’s children’s book Hershel and the Hannukah Goblins, but this is 2020 and a pandemic has forced the performance to go online. The outlines are still there: a traveling troupe of vaudevillian players fallen on hard times barters with an innkeeper for room and board, sharing a story for food. Hershel and the Hannukah Goblins is that story, about the wily grandfather of the troupe’s leader and his efforts to save Hannukah from the goblins who have taken over the old synagogue and who, for reasons unknown, hate Hannukah and blow out the candles and throw the latkes on the floor whenever anyone tries to celebrate the holiday. The cast is talented and energetic and give their all, interacting with the unseen virtual audience, but the absence of that audience casts a pall on the proceedings. The show is still a sweet reminder of the traditions of the season: the food, the lighting of the menorah, the dreidel, and, most importantly, the community and generosity that is celebrated. But without an audience of children to play along, the show struggles to take off. That said, Strawdog has done what they can to ensure that families (though not reviewers watching in their living rooms with blind cats in their laps) can create a fun and festive event with a little advance preparation. There are coloring pages that help tell Hershel’s story and there are moments when parents can guide their offspring to offer magic words or evaluate the quantity of gold required for a dreidel game. There is a song to guide the making of latkes, and songs to light each candle. If you are a parent of kids, especially those under 10, who wants to create a live living room experience, the ingredients are all available.

Hershel and the Hannukah Goblins recalls the stories of Sholem Aleichem, with the title character tasked with outwitting an ever-more threatening gaggle of goblins to save Hannukah, which the town has not been able to celebrate since the goblins took up residence in the creepy, old synagogue. Director Spencer Ryan Diedrick has recruited a young, musically talented ensemble to tell the story, and even tries to recreate the live theater experience with a pre-show warm-up of songs and knock-knock jokes. All the actors take on multiple roles and perform from their own homes. Diedrick has ensured that props make their way smoothly from screen to screen, the action is fast-paced, and the cast connect as best as they can with their young spectators. The spritely songs by Jacob Combs, mostly performed live by the cast under the musical direction of Celia Villacres, are klezmer-based but with an appealing contemporary beat to make them accessible and danceable for audiences new to the genre. Even though the performance would not exist without the magic of technology, this is a decidedly low-tech adaptation, with actors employing masks, puppets, costume accessories, acoustic instruments and papier-mâché props to tell the story. Aly Amidei’s costumes are reminiscent of the early 19^th century, but also reflect the homespun aesthetic of the “traveling” company. The props by Manny Ortiz are bold and colorful and easy to manipulate onscreen. The masks and puppets that represent the goblins are a clever range of folded paper puppets to sock puppets to baroque papier-mâché masks which convey the ever-more-menacing goblins. No need to worry about frightening the children, though; these goblins are not the sharpest demons in the drawer and should not give even the youngest and most sensitive viewers any trouble sleeping.

The cast, led by Rebecca Keeshin (who also plays a mean ukulele) as Hershel, and including Julia Atkin, Sonia Goldberg, and Ian Minh, interact as best as Zoom will allow with each other and the audience. They quickly add costume pieces to take on different roles, share songs and jokes, and gleefully inhabit various goblins (or interact with different goblins, in the case of Keeshin). Their performances will no doubt encourage young people to talk to the screens in front of them.

Though the end of Hershel’s quest is never in doubt, any more than the players’ welcome into the community, Hershel and the Hanukkah Goblins will provide a joyful diversion for families of young children willing to add some spirit at home. Despite the opportunities offered by moving the show online, Strawdog Theatre Company has opted for a stripped-down, old-fashioned children’s theater experience. If you have a young audience at home, and want to take them to the theater, clear some space in front of the screen and play along. Then they can color in the show-related pictures and help make latkes. It will take some effort at home, but the Hannukah show can be saved.

Hershel and the Hannukah Goblins will be performed live, online, through December 20, Saturdays and Sundays at 1pm and 4pm. Tickets are $25 - $30 and are available at www.strawdog.org.

Every December the Chicago theater community goes into full holiday mode, producing a wide array of favorites for reliably sold out houses. COVID obviously has altered many traditions, and theatrical performances have been forced to digitize operations or simply skip this year.

Manuel cinema hadn’t planned on doing a holiday show this year, but when COVID paused the theatre community, they pivoted and began work on a “Christmas Carol.

Working as an ensemble; the narrator (N LaQuis Harkins), the musicians (led by Ben Kauffman) and the shadow puppeteers (helmed by Lizi Breit), Manual Cinema creates a near perfect contribution to Chicago’s holiday theatre landscape. Manual Cinema’s production team has impressively navigated the hurdles of our newfangled telecommunication to present this intricate performance live every night without hiccup. In fact, their telling of ‘A Christmas Carol’ seems more suited to this format than a traditional theater space.

In rich textures and arresting original music, Manual Cinema creates gorgeous imagery with overhead projections, shadow puppetry and other clever slights of hand. There is truly nothing else like it, and yet so much of it recalls the warmth of classic Christmas TV specials like ‘Charlie Brown’ and the Bass Rankin films.

Instead of a tried and true standard adaptation of the Dickens story, this version is framed out by the narrator, Aunt Trudy, played by N LaQuis Harkins. Trudy is suffering from the loss of her husband, Uncle Joe, who used to put on a puppet show every Christmas. Trudy struggles with the Zoom call as she banters with her family and the show gives way to the Dickens tale.

This production does not ignore the elephant in the room, and though it seems too soon be part of our Christmas narrative, Manual Cinema deals addresses the realities of COVID without getting political. Given this work is so timely, it’s fun to imagine how it might be changed to be a bit more timeless in the future, however it does create an interesting snapshot of Christmas 2020. Manual Cinema’s ‘Christmas Carol’ is a bold new take on a classic, retold as a heartfelt animated Christmas card.

Through December 20^th. manualcinema.com/christmascarol/

It’s no secret that Chicago is in for some dark months ahead. But in every darkness there are flickers of light to be found. Throughout history, the Arts are those flickers of light, providing entertainment, levity, and much needed escapism from everyday struggles and strife. In today’s virus-that-shall-not-be-named world, movies, books, paintings and music all provide the much needed escapism and lightness. Now, theater in Chicago is following suit. Adapting to the new virtual and socially-distanced world, Steppenwolf Theater has created a virtual stage, Steppenwolf NOW, showcasing pieces written, acted, and produced during the pandemic. They have kicked off this season with a bright light in What is Left, Burns. 

The world premiere of What Is Left, Burns, the first of six works that are a part of Steppenwolf NOW virtual stage, was released for streaming this month. The play follows two poets separated by age and distance engaging in a video call rendezvous after fifteen years. Keith, a distinguished poet and professor of literature is moving towards retirement after a recent divorce from his wife. Ronnie, his younger former lover and mentee, has a New York Times bestselling book and a burgeoning career ahead of him. The two men wade through the connection they once had as they struggle with the desires that still bind them. Written by James Ijames and directed by Whitney White, the play was commissioned for the Steppenwolf virtual stage and features ensemble members K. Todd Freeman (Keith) and Jon Michael Hill (Ronnie).

The beauty of What is Left, Burns lies in its effortlessness. This seamless virtual stage plays out like any FaceTime chat, House Party, or any video conferencing app; two men, side by side on screen, their faces sometimes too close or angled oddly, moving casually about their homes, passing the phone from one hand to another while they chat. The play invited you into Keith and ROnnie’s chat, or like House Party, you simply virtually walked in. It could have been any of our friends’ or family’s conversation we were watching. It was simply two people connecting after a long time apart that initially draws you in. It’s then the subtleness of the social queues in their conversation that holds your attention; the compliments mistaken for criticism, the quickness to defense, the brush off with an odd joke or shrug. Beautifully acted, it was all so relatable yet fresh and inviting. What is it that burns between these two men?  Everything about the production demands and holds your attention until...it’s over. As quickly as it began. A short, relatable, and effortless escape from today. 

Associate Artistic Director Leelai Demoz summarizes this play best, sharing, “James Ijames has written this beautiful short play that feels like a complete experience... It feels so completely about the time we are living through now.” Coupled with stunning video and photography design by Lowell Thomas and Joel Moorman and set to an original soundtrack composed by Justin Ellington, this virtual production highlights the incredible talent, dedication and creativity of the ensemble cast and crews at Steppenwolf. Steppenwolf NOW Productions will be released throughout the year and members are able to stream all Steppenwolf NOW content through August 31, 2021.

When sitting in a darkened theater, the light shines brightest on the art of the production on stage. Virtual productions will prove to provide the same light in the darkness we might find ourselves in today. For viewing details, teasers, and more on What is Left, Burns, visit https://www.steppenwolf.org/whatisleftburns. Steppenwolf NOW is a new virtual programming stream featuring breakthrough stories written by America’s most talented voices. For upcoming productions, streaming, and membership details visit: https://www.steppenwolf.org/tickets--events/steppenwolf-now/.

With Renee Zellweger just having won the Academy Award for her portrayal of Judy Garland, focus on Garland’s legacy has been renewed. Local actresses Nancy Hays and Alexa Castelvecchi, along with music director Robert Ollis, reconstruct an iconic moment in pop culture history. A young Liza Minnelli performed just one time with her mother Judy Garland on the Palladium stage in London in 1964. The evening was recorded, and the album proved a highpoint for both Judy and Liza.

“Once in a Lifetime” is not exactly song for song as they appeared on the album, but this cabaret is a touching tribute to Judy and Liza. With Hays as Garland and Castelvechhi as Minnelli, the two take turns singing their favorite songs from the album and relay the history of how it came to be. Though they’re both dressed in character, this is more of a concert than a play.

What remains impressive about this once in a lifetime evening in 1964 is how great the arrangements were. Each song plays to the strengths of these two legendary performers. Judy Garland was in her prime in 1964 and Liza was about a year away from winning her first Tony Award. The song selection is quite a charming playlist. The evening was a love letter to each other. Given the tragedy Judy would endure by the late 60s (including her untimely death), this album remains a time capsule of a happier time in Judy’s life. It also foreshadows the show business powerhouse Liza would become in her own right.

Both Hays and Castelvecchi dispense with all too easy impressions of Judy and Liza. Instead, they both knock it out of the park in the intimate cabaret space at Victory Gardens’ Greenhouse. Castelvecchi really taps into the bluesier aspect of Liza Minnelli’s vocal range. Hays probably has a better voice in 2020 than Judy had by 1964, and her renditions of the jazzy standards are a real treat. All together, “Once in a Lifetime” is a fun hour and a half filled with the enchanting music of Harold Arlen, George Gershwin and Jerry Herman.

At Greenhouse Theater Center through April 5th

How is it possible that a 19th Century play by George Bernard Shaw could be so on trend for today? Promethean Theatre Ensemble’s production of Mrs. Warren’s Profession is just that, examining the limitations women faced in careers - steeply limited in those days - and hurdles they faced in establishing an independent life, outside of marriage or household servant.

But just as importantly, Mrs. Warren’s Profession brings us a breakthrough performance by Elaine Carlson in the role of Mrs. Kitty Warren, the wealthy proprietress of a collection of boutique brothel hotels in England and abroad. Carlson brings us a fully developed character, and has plumbed every nook and cranny of Kitty Warren’s emotional make-up. The result is a powerful performance, one that knocked me off my feet. Carlson so fully inhabits the role that we no longer see the actress, we see Kitty Warren.

Shaw can be challenging - his plays are talky, and serious, full of big thoughts and intellectual jousting. In this production, the script has been adapted by Melanie Spewock, who “streamlines Shaw’s text and makes it more woman-centric.” Directed by Michael D. Graham, Shaw is given an effective expression here. Purists may not like it, but I did. 

The story revolves around a visit by Mrs. Warren’s daughter, Vivie Warren (Corrie Riedl) to see her mother while on break from school. But the two don’t really know each other - Vivie was raised at boarding schools - and Kitty, in late middle age, is hoping to build a relationship with her daughter. Vivie takes umbrage once she discovers the nature of her mother’s enterprise, and is shamed by the fact it has funded her upbringing and schooling.

But then Shaw, through Kitty, makes a passionate defense of her position as a madame, describing her poverty, limited options to make a living, and providing Vivie for the first time a window into her mother’s back story. “It can’t be right that there is no other opportunity for a girl,” Kitty Warren says. 

Written so well by Shaw in Spewock’s version, and delivered so forcefully by Elaine Carlson as Kitty Warren, Vivie embraces her mother’s choices - and so does the audience. Kitty Warren notes that young women are encouraged to work in dangerous factories or in shops for starvation wages by clergymen, who condemn prostitution. But the economics argue in favor of it. 

“Where would we be if we minded the clergyman’s foolishness,” Kitty says. An appreciation guide for this production, which estimates there were 8,000 to 80,000 English sex workers, provides a backgrounder on the censorship of the play by English authorities. Written in 1893, Mrs. Warren's Profession wasn't fully produced in England until 1925.

There is much more to this story - suitors for Vivie, lots of dirty laundry aired, including uncertainty about who Vivie’s father is. You must watch the rest of the story unfold on stage. As always Promethean delivers the goods. And it is all about the performances. Mrs. Warren's Profession runs through March 29 at Otherworld Theatre, 3914 N. Clark St. in Chicago.

Dan Clancy’s Middletown is a very true-to-life rollercoaster ride involving two couples that befriend each other in the prime of their lives and remain friends through their senior years. They have dinner every Friday night for thirty-three years and share everything with each other – the good and the bad. They lean on each other and, in many ways, become closer than family.

After a series of successful runs around the country over the past few years, Middletown now makes its temporary home in Chicago’s Apollo Theater in Lincoln Park. The mid-sized venue is a cozy home for the play to settle into for its month-long run. The show is different than most as it comes without a set or props and has the actors reading directly from scripts and writer Dan Clancy has his reasons for this. “I wanted to tell a relatable ‘every-person’s’ story in a direct and straightforward manner where human emotions are front and center – without bells, whistles, special effects, or props,’ says Clancy. “I wanted the show to speak for itself.” 

Adrian Zmed (left) and Donny Most in 'Middletown' at Apollo Theater Chicago through March 22nd

And his approach is very effective, perhaps thanks to the caliber of actors involved. In fact, we are given a powerhouse of talent in this show, each actor skillfully navigating their widely-ranged roles through calm waters and rough waves. Sandy Duncan is a sheer delight to watch as Peg as she pairs with Adrian Zmed, who deftly plays her husband, Tom. It’s clear the two love each other no matter what - through the good and bad times – and they meet plenty of challenges along the way that put their love to the test. Donny Most also delivers an outstanding performance as Don, while Kate Buddeke shines as his wife, Dotty. Even though the actors are delivering lines from a script, so convincing is the quartet, it isn’t long before one forgets they are even reading, and we are just lost in a tremendous relationship between two couples.

The shows starts with a bang as the actors charge into the stage area to a Bruce Springsteen song. An enthusiastic Duncan, Most, Buddeke and Zmed each greet the crowd before heading to their assigned locations. It is then Duncan briefly addresses the audience to prepare them for the show while pointing out, “I’m at the age where I’m not sure if I don’t remember something or if I never knew it in the first place.” 

Middletown is a unique theatre piece. The lack of on-stage distractions has theatre goers really focusing on its rich content, which is exactly Clancy’s intention. It also allows for us to grow more intimately with each character. The show has plenty of humorous moments, plenty of difficult moments and a handful of surprisingly heavy moments. Like I said earlier, it’s a rollercoaster ride. Says Donny Most in describing Middletown, “It’s really a wonderful play that takes you through so many different emotions. There is comedy and then there are very heartfelt moments and very dramatic moments in the play. I think it’s something so many people will relate to.” Most continues, “There is something for everybody. It will hit a chord within, and you’ll have a smile on your face, with that recognition, or the pang deep down where you feel the pain and the emotion. It’s that kind of a piece.”

The story in itself is absorbing from beginning to end and its journey through life is sure to be relatable to most that see this play. Though it’s the story of Tom, Peg, Don and Dotty, it’s also the story of so many we know if not our own. Middletown is the story of friendship – the best kind - plain and simple.

Superbly directed by Seth Greenleaf, Clancy’s story hits its target on point and the special cast that has been assembled performs beautifully and truly connects with the show’s audience, making Middletown a masterfully delivered event to remember.

Highly recommended.

Middletown is being performed at The Apollo Theater Chicago through March 22^nd before taking on dates in Tampa Bay and Miami. For tickets and/or more information visit www.MiddletownPlay.com or www.ApolloChicago.com. 

To read our very entertaining interview with star Donny Most, click here.  

America was a different place in 1965. Jim Crow was alive and well in southern cities, American schools were still on the way to being integrated, African-Americans were getting their heads busted in trying to cross the Edmund Pettis Bridge in Alabama, there were race riots in major northern cities, the Andy Griffith Show and The Beverly Hillbillies were the top shows on television and in New York City Day of Absence was being staged by the newly formed Negro Ensemble Company.

Day of Absence, written by Douglas Turner Ward in 1965, is a reverse minstrel where the white residents of a Southern town wake to find all the black people gone. All the roles are played by Black people in white face. The caricatures are broad and cartoonish. It was written to make white audiences squirm while laughing. The script won the Vernon Rice and Obie Awards.

Fifty-five years later, America has changed. And Congo Square Theatre Company has upped the ante. Instead of Black people disappearing, all people of color (known as “Pox” in this iteration) disappear. The script has been updated to include racial slurs and stereotypes of Hispanics, Asians, East Indians, and everyone not white, with uproarious results.

Anthony L. Irons, a master physical comic himself, has directed this multiracial cast with energy and an eye towards razor sharp comic timing. The cast is phenomenal. Jordan Arredondo, Ronald L. Conner, Meagan Dilworth, Ann Douglas, Bryant Hayes, Sonya Madrigal, and Kelvin Roston, Jr. all play multiple parts, easily shifting from one character to another. The bare bones modular set by Sydney Lynne Thomas was the perfect background for the makeup, costumes and wigs by the talented Rueben D. Echoles.

Of note is Douglas’s Mayor Lee, a cross between Boss Hogg of “Dukes of Hazzard” and Marge Schott (the Owner and CEO of the Cincinnati Reds who infamously called her players "million-dollar n*ggers.”) As the events in the play become dire, she makes a television appeal that will have you crying with laughter. Along with her assistant Jackson (Conner), they steal the scenes they are in with a physicality that is unmatched.

When Douglas Turner Ward wrote Day of Absence his intention was to put a mirror to white people and make them feel uncomfortable. Congo Square’s production doesn’t so much indict white people, but makes fun of ignorant stereotypes, and we all hold ignorant stereotypes, whether we’d like to believe it or not. This is America 2020.

Special Note: It was great to see Derrick Sanders back at the helm of Congo Square Theatre Company. His artistic vision is unparalleled.
Day of Absence by Congo Square Theatre continues through March 22 at the Richard Christiansen Theater at Victory Gardens, 2433 N. Lincoln Ave. Tickets are $35 ($25 for seniors and students) for performances Friday-Sunday.

Where’s Plano? I’m not sure, but it’s a place some characters of the namesake play like to visit often. Perhaps Plano doesn’t even exist.

Presented as part of Steppenwolf’s LookOut Series and directed by Audrey Francis, this Will Arbery’s dark comedy is progressively more disturbing. All of its characters seem to be suffering: Genevieve (Ashley Neal), the outspoken artsy sister, is very unhappy but won’t say why. Her husband Steve (Andrew Cutler) has a split personality disorder, quite literally actually. Anne (Elizabeth Birnkrant) feels un-loved and worthless, and in her quiet desperation she fills her time with killing slugs in her apartment. Her husband John (Chris Acevedo) who is suffering from a “small feet curse” that runs in his family, is “probably gay”. And, according to her cruel sisters, he’s using Anne to get his green card. The youngest sister, Isabel (Amanda Fink), is in most pain because her mysterious illness is spiritual in nature. Which, naturally, makes her a saint. Not to mention that she has a “friend” (Faceless Ghost, played by Andrew Lund), who intermittently acts as her mate and her illness. But if you think the sisters are mad, you should see their mother, Mary (Janice O’Neil). This is no ordinary dysfunctional family, it’s a study in subclinical mental illness: not quite ill enough to seek help, but really, really unwell. Kind of like most of us.

Plano is staged with an admirable efficiency: great use of props (scenic design by Kristen Martino) and clever use of language, which helps to effortlessly span long durations of time and various spaces, bringing continuity to the events without having to change decorations or go through many props. Excellent acting and intimate space that’s First Floor Theater will leave you feeling like you’ve just visited with your own dysfunctional family. It’s funny, all right, but the underlying sadness subtly gets in the way, making Plano more “dark” than “comedy”.

Plano runs through March 28^th at Steppenwolf’s 1700 Theatre. www.FirstFloorTheater.com.

Kids these days…

I went into opening night of Gift Theatre’s production of Martin McDonagh’s The Pillowman only knowing that my 16-year-old daughter was excited to be my date. “It’s dark, Dad,” she warned me. Boy, was she right. “But it’s amazing, Dad,” she also assured me. And boy, was she even righter on that count.

So, dark and amazing. The Pillowman is both of these. But what is it?

A buddy cop piece. A murder mystery. The touching tale of two brothers, each all the other has in the world. A warning from some dystopian dictatorship. A volume of grim, gruesome fairy tales. The Pillowman is all of these things, and more. Much more.

I haven’t enjoyed a play this much since Goodman’s Jeff-winning 2018 production of The Wolves. And that’s because — along with McDonagh’s masterful book, Laura Alcala Baker’s visionary direction, and Lauren Nichols and Courtney Winkelman’s dark, stark scenery, of course — the four actors who tell The Pillowman’s story (and its stories within the story) give what’s a pretty soulless premise a whole lot of soul. The four-person cast is The Pillowman’s beating, battered, bleeding, bloody heart.

A word of warning. This play is dark. And shocking. And violent. It’s about child murders. And even worse, childhood trauma. But even more shocking is, coming from the mouths of a couple of the characters, a word I’d figured was too taboo to have to hear in today’s world. The R Word. Of course, its use speaks volumes about the characters who use it. Even as it’s used to describe Jay Worthington’s Michal, a developmentally disabled fellow. Worthington, to his credit, plays Michal with incredible restraint and empathy, never using the character’s condition and lot in life for laughs. Whether climbing the walls or crawling the floor, whether admitting to the unthinkable or revealing unthinkable trauma, Worthington’s Michal draws the eye whenever he’s onstage — an incredible character, but just as incredible a performance.

Michal’s brother Katurian, the play’s main character, is a storyteller and tells this story to us, the audience. Tucked away in some future police interrogation room for the duration of the play, Katurian begins the show with a bag over his head, as in the dark as his audience — us — is. Martel Mannin’s face and expressions do the same heavy lifting that Michal’s physicality do, manufacturing suspense, shock, and sorrow — a lifetime of sorrow. And, along with inventive ways of illustrating Katurian’s twisted children’s tales, Mannin’s face and voice keep the audience enraptured as he tells one story after another, each designed again to suspend belief, to shock sensibilities, and to create a world of sorrow.

In Katurian’s world, his cement holding cell, we also meet the two cops investigating a series of incidents seemingly copied straight from the pages of the fictional storyteller’s fictional stories. Gregory Fenner’s Ariel comes off at first as the prototype “bad cop” (I think one of the two even identifies him as such), threatening (and carrying out) acts of brutality, puffing on a vape, and stalking the concrete cube that is the play’s entire world. But look closer and it’s Fenner’s eyes that tell deeper stories that come to the fore as the play progresses. In Ariel’s eyes, ferocity morphs into fear.

But in a cast where each member could lay claim to being the MVP, my award goes to Cyd Blakewell. Her role, Detective Tupolski — it seems both from the play’s unchanged dialogue and a bit of internet perusing I did after the house lights came on — was written for a man. (Jeff Goldblum played the role in New York.) This is a physical (and violent) play, and Blakewell’s easy and subtle physicality looms throughout, even as others are applying electrodes and murdering children and climbing and crawling and crying and creating dark imaginary worlds, as she just pretends at being the “good cop.” (Full disclosure: when Blakewell first started her bit, my daughter turned to me and said, “It’s mom!” at the same time I turned to her and said “It’s your mom!” so maybe her performance hit close to home.) And it’s the story that Blakewell’s Tupolski tells near the end, using just a blackboard and a piece of white chalk, that was for me the best scene in a play full of contenders.

So if you’re up for a very dark evening of entertainment, you’ll be entertained. And if you can get past some pretty unsettling content in order to admire acting and storytelling at its finest, The Gift Theatre’s The Pillowman is for you, now through March 29.

Set in 1830, Lifeline Theatre’s Middle Passage, beautifully directed by Ilesa Duncan, is an exciting show: absolutely entertaining, well-produced and well-acted.

And yet, entertaining as it is, Middle Passage also recounts the horrific enslavement and transport of Africa’s Allmuseri people, their inhumane treatment by a cruel ship’s captain, and the desecration of their sacred possessions. How do these opposites co-exist in one play? Look to the source.

Based on the bestseller by Charles Johnson (adapted by David Barr III and the director), Middle Passage the book is a fictional first-person narrative by a 20-year-old freed slave, Rutherford Calhoun (Michael Morrow), who makes his way from Southern Illinois to New Orleans to sow his wild oats.

“She’s a town with almost religious pursuit of sin,” Calhoun says of New Orleans, in an aside to the audience.

Johnson gives us a picaresque novel, with a wandering young man, like other 19th century literary characters (think Thackeray’s Barry Lyndon). Both the book and the play recount from the first-person point of view, Calhoun’s experiences – good and bad passing before his eyes - during his adventures. So, as in life, the good and the bad, the lighthearted moments and the tragic, co-exist.

Like Barry Lyndon, Rutherford Calhoun is on the make in New Orleans, and without means – courting young ladies, but also running up debts. This comes to the notice of Papa Zeringue (Bryan Carter), a Creole mob boss holding all Calhoun’s promissory notes. Papa Zeringue tells Calhoun he must pay, or he will be thrown into the deeps of the Mississippi.

Thankfully for Calhoun, he has flirted (chastely) with Isadora (Shelby Lynn Bias), a young black schoolteacher from Boston, whose family has been free for generations. Isadora has some savings, and unbeknownst to Calhoun, negotiates to pay his debts to Papa Zeringue, on one condition – Calhoun will be forced to marry her.

When he learns of the plan, Calhoun stows aboard the ship Republic. When it puts out to sea, he discovers it is a slaver, on its way to Africa to pick up human cargo.
And with that, the story opens to an exciting, rollicking seafaring tale with all the trappings- storms, cannon fire, mutiny, betrayals, slave rebellions. Calhoun is there for selfish reasons - “Of all the things that drive men to sea, the most common disaster, I've come to learn, is women” – as one character puts it.

As an “everyman” character, we watch Calhoun avoid dirtying his hands in the fray, but eventually, he moves from aloof observer to responsible man, developing his moral compass through the trials.

The cast is uniformly good - really good - and most play multiple ensemble roles, as well as their principle character. Particularly notable performances were delivered by Patrick Blashill as Captain Falcon and Andres Enriquez as navigator Peter Cringle. Shelby Lynn Bias’s Isadora is both nicely written, and very well delivered – she is very 1830s Bostonian. Hunter Bryant (Calhoun’s brother Jackson), also, notably plays the role of a young slave learning English who bonds with Calhoun. Bryant launches convincingly into a somewhat lengthy delivery in an Allmuseri language.

Michael Morrow as Rutherford Calhoun carries the weight of the play on his shoulders, also making asides to the audience about the action or his feelings. Opening night, Morrow seemed a little uncertain in the beginning moments – but eventually warmed and really did command the role.

The set (Alan Donohue) is a lovingly crafted sailing vessel with multiple decks, stowage, working winche, mast and beam – all integrated to the projection design (Paul Deziel and Alex J. Gendal) and sound design (Barry Bennett). With this we feel for all the world we are at sea, particularly during storms and battles. A puppet parrot was less compelling.

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

Lifeline Theatre is also making Middle Passage very accessible: Tickets are $20 for military, veterans, and students, and for rush tickets sold 30 minutes before curtain. Middle Passage runs through April 5 at Lifeline Theatre,6912 N Glenwood, Chicago 60626. www.lifelinetheatre.com