Items filtered by date: November 2007

It’s a rainy night in Edinburgh, a divorce lawyer name Helena is sitting alone in the corner of a pub. She has just been stood up by her lover who so happened to be married to another woman. Across the room is a petty criminal named Bob who’s reading Notes from Underground by Fyodor Dostoevsky to cheer him up, somber from a life he feels is unfulfilled. Helena takes a chance and approaches Bob with a bottle of wine in her hand. From there, the characters catapult the audience into a chaotic weekend and will give you a theatre experience that will have you filled with bliss and laughter.

David Greig’s 'Midsummer (A Play with Songs)' is a delightful retelling of a weekend Bob, and Helena never expected to be the weekend that would change their lives forever. They grab the audience by the arm and pull them into the lives of two middle-aged adults tormented by an unsatisfaction with the outcome of their lives. Two lost souls that clash together out of desperation to feel a connection. After a one night stand, they conclude that they can never be compatible, but, of course, life has a funny way of keeping them together.  

In this unconventional romantic comedy, Bob and Helena not only poke fun at themselves and the dozen characters they interact with, but they take moments to rant away the misgivings of life. They do so in such an elegant and humorous way that doesn’t force the audience to feel sorry for them but rather feel connected to them. Midsummer is a play that calls for the two main actors to play sixteen parts between them, play an instrument, act and sing wonderfully and do this all in a Scottish accent. A challenge well accepted by Chicago celebrated Chaon Cross and Patrick Mulvey. Both actors show a chemistry that comes across as natural as two college buddies taking a night out on the town. 

Chaon Cross is a joy to watch. A force that draws you in with her passionate performance. In a production where the actors simply move to the side, rather than leave the stage, while the other takes the spotlight. Chaon Cross calls for your attention even in the shadows of the background. 

In saying that, Patrick Mulvey, who this past spring played the title role in David Auburn’s The Adventures of Augie March, performance is not to be overlooked. He will have you laughing out loud from beginning to end and absorbs the character of Bob so well it’s hard to imagine anyone else filling in that role. 

By calling itself a play with songs and not just a musical, the play strips away the notion that you will be sitting through a dry tale that forces long musical numbers in your ears. Instead, Midsummer offers easy listening acoustics with quirky lyrics that enhances the story rather than push it along. Certain songs will follow you well after the show is over. One may bubble up in the back of your head after waking up to a nasty hangover; "The Hangover Song" or you may find yourself quietly singing the chorus of a song called "Japanese Rope Bondage" in the shower (I mean, the play has a song called "The Song of Bob’s Cock"). This alone should give you an indication that this production will take you to a place you may have never been before.   

If you have ever watched a Hollywood produced rom-com in the last twenty years, you will find 'Midsummer’s' world familiar. The plot hits all the points you’ve seen in almost every romantic comedies. And there’s nothing wrong with that. It wouldn’t be a romantic comedy if there weren’t a risk of the relationship to never be or a secret Bob and Helena hide from each other to keep you involved. Despite its familiarity, the characters will also lead you into refreshing avenues as they tell their story. One example is when Bob leads you into his mind as he battles with his consciousness with the fact that his youth is long gone. 

In a theatre where you could sit on the top row and toss a quarter onto the stage with a flick of the wrist, there’s seem to be no limit on what the actors can do on and off the stage. Bob and Helena invites you into the bedroom they shared, inside their minds, and they will hand you their heart. They dare you to not only listen but to part take. To join in as they sing and dance and interact as they stumble around the stage in a hangover haze. They’ll have you looking left and right and out your chair to get a better view of the moment even if you’re sitting in the front row. 'Midsummer (A Play with Songs)' is a smart and exciting gem that would be a shame to miss. 

'Midsummer (A Play with Songs)' runs through October 6, 2019, at Greenhouse Theatre Center on Lincoln Ave.

The only "rotten" thing about this super funny and colorful production is the title, a line taken from a Shakespeare play. ‘Something Rotten’ is the latest comedy-musical at Marriott Theatre and is full of laughs.

I went to the show not knowing anything about its brief Broadway debut in 2015 and was completely surprised and delighted right out of the gate by the spectacular opening number “Welcome to the Renaissance!" The song is a full-cast extravaganza that makes fun of the conditions people were dealing with in the 1590's (like the black plague), yet also makes the audience realize that at that time the many inventions being brought into humankind awareness seemed really new and miraculous to people of the middle ages.  

Director Scott Weinstein does a fantastic job throughout and has perfectly cast the show with seasoned character actors and actresses who bring it to life with great energy and wit. 

The plot is about two brothers/writers Nick Bottom (KJ Hippensteel) and his brother, Nigel (always another great comedic turn by Alex Goodrich) who, like everyone else at the time, worship The Bard -Shakespeare, played really well  by Adam Jacobs (dressed in sexy  black leather rock star attire to woo the ladies). The brothers ask a soothsayer to give them the plot of a future hit play by Shakespeare. The plot of ‘Something Rotten’ jumps around quite a bit but is superbly funny anyway. 

There are many funny and incisive throwbacks from the past to the present like when Ross Lehman who plays both the soothsayer and a Shylock 0tells the brothers he believes that Shakespeare has made him a character in a play he believes will be titled “Shylock, The Really Nice Jew." Unfortunately, for the brothers, the play the soothsayer predicts that Shakespeare biggest hit will be called ‘Omelet’ not ‘Hamlet’ and the comedy just rolls right on from there. 

Nick Bottom's helpful, hardworking wife, Bea, is a great role for Cassie Slater and she knocks her numbers out of the park every time.  I also really enjoyed Rebecca Hurd as Portia. Portia is the daughter of the only creepy Priest who wants the actors and playwrights of the time to be taken down for crating impure thoughts through theater, which leads people to dancing, which leads to sin, etc.  

Hurd has a wonderful show-stopping number with ‘Bottom’ in which the two lovers discover that they are both really turned on by words! ‘Bottom’ serenades her ears with loving words set to iambic pentameter, and the couple have a hilarious yet heartfelt climactic release together onstage as they find their "word loving" soulmates in each other.  Another showstopper is the full cast blow out of the song "A Musical," which tips it hat to every great musical from ‘Cats’ to ‘Chicago’ to ‘Pippin’ and is jammed packed with spectacular costumes and clever choreography. 

All I can say is I went to the show hoping for the best from a musical I have never seen before and I got it!

I highly recommend this entertaining, delightfully funny musical with eye-popping costumes and really great laughs throughout to audience members of all ages. The director, crew and cast members including a superbly talented dance/singer ensemble of ‘Something Rotten’ have taken this show and revved it up into a fun packed "must see” production from the ever-solid lineup at the intimate Marriott Lincolnshire Theatre.

Through October 20th at Marriott Theatre.

When we meet Paul Morel, he is just being born. A bearded gentleman off to the side offers commentary on the scene as the nurses attend to his mother.

That narrator turns out to be D.H. Lawrence, and he reappears regularly in Sons and Lovers, adapted and directed from Lawrence’s breakthrough 1913 novel by Mike Brayndick. It is seeing its delayed U.S. premiere at Chicago’s Greenhouse Theatre.

Featuring a cast of 11 in 16 roles, Sons and Lovers brings the heart of Lawrence’s book onstage in just over two hours. The semi-autobiographical work centers on life and loves of Paul Morel (Miles Borchard), a proxy for Lawrence. His mother Lydia (Amy Gray) has married beneath her station, and is emotionally estranged from her coal miner husband Walter (Stephen Dunn), channeling all her love onto her sons Paul and William (Brian Boller, who also plays Lawrence as narrator).

To some degree, Sons and Lovers lends itself naturally to the stage, with patches of dialog that carry over intact. But not everything would fit, and Brayndick deftly excises and merges numerous scenes to keep the action moving.

Brayndick has done other literary adaptations, and his skill shows in Sons & Lovers. Greenhouse previously presented his versions of 19th century works by Turgenev - Home of the Gentry - and Balzac’s Pére Goriot. Sons and Lovers was originally commissioned by Traffic of the Stage in Hampstead, England, and it toured the UK, including London’s Bloomsbury Theatre, in 1996.

As the title suggests, Lydia Morel’s sons are engulfed in their mother’s needy attentions. Walter flees to a good accounting job in London, fulfilling his mother’s upward economic aspirations. This relegates Paul to an even closer interdependency with her.

An artistic, sensitive type, he explores love in two polarities: innocent and exploratory with Miriam, a girl on a nearby farm; and a more torrid affair with Clara Dawes (Emma Brayndick), a woman who is separated from her husband.

Adaptations raise the question, Why not just read the book? In a novel, our minds bask in the inner lives and travails of characters. Onstage, there is an expectation this should all be leading somewhere. What we get here is a tremendously sensitive and effective presentation of a great literary work. As a drama, it is immersive, and interesting. But as theater it is limited to following a lifeline as its plotline.

Still Sons and Lovers is engaging, in no small measure because of the memorable performances of the cast, with Midlands and other accents nicely polished. Noteworthy are Brian Boller in the dual role as Lawrence’s older brother William, and narrator Lawrence (though frankly it took me some time to figure out he was two characters). Stephen Dunn is outstanding as the coal miner Walter. Likewise for Baird Brutscher in the roles of Edgar Lievers and Baxter Dawes. And Corrie Riedl is innocent sweetness personified as the farm girl Miriam Lievers. Tina Shelley as her mother, and Pete Blatchford as Paul’s supervisor Mr. Pappleworth deliver sharp performances in small roles.

Most notable are two who carry the weight of the show: Amy Gray as Lydia Morel, Paul’s mother, who grows and ages in the role convincingly; and Miles Borchard as her son, Paul. Borchard is striking in inhabiting the role so naturally. Onstage nearly in every scene, Borchard reacts continuously to those around him, and develops a portrait of an unselfconscious young man navigating the exploration of life, and love – exactly the character D.H. Lawrence placed in his pages. Sons & Lovers runs through September 29 at Greenhouse Theater Center on Lincoln Ave.

Out of Love by Elinor Cook examines the dynamics of a close, at times even unhealthy and overly enmeshed relationship, between two women friends. Cook artfully displays that elusive quality of intimacy that courses between people who are too close – an almost inexpressible aspect of the attraction that keeps even an improbable pair of friends inseparable their whole life long.

Since they were little, Grace (Laura Berner Taylor) and Lorna (Sarah Gise) have been like twin suns in an unstable orbit. That metaphor is apt in many ways. Drawn inexorably into each other’s lives, their needs and dependencies vary as they grow up, and they circle each other in a wobbly trajectory.

The two pledge to leave town and go away to college. As humans mature, their emotional needs vary, and so Grace and Lorna’s dependence and co-dependence continuously changes. The gravity of their emotional attraction and needs vary in intensity with age and their stage in life, as we meet these girls at all different points in their adulthoods, adolescences, and childhoods.

Grace is more neurotic and has suffered more emotional deficits growing up in a violent and poorer household, while Lorna seems to have had a more supportive home life and more stable upbringing. During teen years and early adulthood, Grace - perhaps responding to jealousy - seduces Lorna’s boyfriend, and ends up pregnant. Grace consigns herself to motherhood, and almost too quickly abandons her aspirations, while Lorna moves ahead. But we suspect the path of life must inevitably have divided for these two – leaving was too much of a reach for Grace.

Out of Love jumps around in time and place in a brisk series of vignettes, opening with a scene in adulthood, and jumping back to and from childhood and adulthood. The trio of actors offers an excellent performances - Peter Gertas (Actor 3) plays a variety of male figures – boyfriend, dad, brother, lover. Gertas is excellent in this shape shifting performance. The selection of British dialects (the script’s vocabulary won’t allow for Americanized language) establish social stature and are sufficiently well honed to accomplish their purpose.

This is an exceptionally good theatrical piece, and is receiving an excellent U.S. premiere now by Interrobang Theatre Project, where it is directed by Georgette Verdin at the Rivendell Theatre. But I found I just didn’t care about this extensive exploration of two women’s emotional angst, and the quality of the performances could not overcome my lack of engagement. One suspects that this is really a movie in waiting, where the intimate portrayal of Grace and Lorna would be more effective with a tight close-up of their suffering faces on a big screen.

I’ve said it before and I’ll surely say it again: We Chicagoland theatergoers find ourselves wandering through — lost in, even — a fairyland of shows and venues and world-class talent. And never was that more evident than when I experienced the Writers Theatre’s current production of Stephen Sondheim’s Into the Woods, directed by Gary Griffin.

The show, of course, is part of the Broadway canon, beloved by so many and sure to please. And the theater, with its in-the-round set transformed by Scott Davis into something both sensational and sinister, promised the same as soon as I ventured into its woods found my seat therein.

But, as I’ve said before and will surely say again, it was the cast that performed the most magic, that inhabited the characters who are Sondheim’s wondrous woods’ inhabitants and explorers and tragic tales. As strong as any cast I’ve ever seen, here or elsewhere, this was an all-star ensemble of Chicago’s artists and actors.

Set by Writers Theatre artistic director Michael Halberstam (as narrator) and conductor/pianist Charlotte Rivard-Hoster’s three-piece orchestra, the stage becomes a world that reveals one fantastic character after another — characters fantastic since their creations centuries before, but made even more so by those now portraying them.

Lucy Godínez’s Little Red Riding Hood is bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, but winkingly so, letting the children of all ages watching her that this fairytale land isn’t what we remember it to be. Michael Mahler (who I last admired for his Jeff-winning musical direction of 2018’s The Buddy Holly Story) grounds us as the longsuffering but steadfast Baker. And Ximone Rose’s Cinderella is equally spellbinding whether grubby from soot or gowned for the ball. Each of the stars is a force to be reckoned with.

The force those characters all must reckon with, however, is Bethany Thomas’ Witch. From beginning to end, whether hunched over in rags or wowing with her presence and her voice, Thomas is the star of the show. Even when surrounded by sights and sounds that would catch eyes and ears and turn heads in any other setting, Thomas is the focus whenever she’s onstage. Sure, that comes with the role. But Thomas’ talent magnifies the inherent star power the Witch possesses. She’s imposing, enthralling, enchanting.

But so, too, is the ensemble that populates the Witch’s world. Brianna Borger grounds the woods in the real, human world as the Baker’s Wife. William Brown brings gravity (and a bit of gaiety) whenever his Mysterious Man appears. Mary Poole’s a hoot (or a moo?!) as Milky White. Ryan McBride and Alex Benoit bring the princely racket with both renditions of “Agony.” And just as riotous are Cinderella’s kin, played by Kelli Harrington, Nicole Armold, and Molly Hernandez (like Mr. Mahler, also part of Buddy’s Jeff-winning ensemble).

So, be assured that this production is one that not only that does right by Sondheim, but gives his classic a stunning and unique interpretation. And, as I’ve said before and I’ll surely say again, the fact that this unique interpretation is available to us Chicago theater lovers — and performed by the unique gathering of talent we are so blessed with — is magical, indeed.

At Writers Theatre through September 22nd.

Kiss produced by Haven Theatre (and playing at The Den Theatre) is a stealthily crafted play. Delightfully engaging, loaded with laughs, it tells the story of two couples, none married, who double date regularly to watch soap operas at one of their apartments.

Kiss is also a theatrical event for Chicago: the production of a play by celebrated screenwriter Guillermo Calderon. He wrote Sundance winner "Violeta Went to Heaven;" "The Club," a Golden Globe nominee and winner at the Berlin Intl. Film Festival; and "Neruda," another Golden Globe nominee that was also a lauded at the Canne’s Film Festival. His plays are performed across Europe and in New York, including Neva, Diciembre, Speech, Quake, and Escuela.

The play Kiss opens as the good looking Youssif (Salar Ardebili) half of one couple, arrives at the apartment of comely Hadeel (Arti Ishak), the girl from the other couple. The two engage in friendly banter, mostly play-acting lines from the show. After awhile, though, the banter begins shifting to role playing scenes from the soap opera, and the tone gets more seriously heated and amorous, in an over-the-top melodramatic style.

Like the TV shows, Kiss loaded with thwarted passion and impossible liaisons. That familiar soap opera-style music loudly punctuates the scene, as the soap opera jumps from screen to real life. In a real soap opera, the music is intended to conjure tension, or suspense. But here, it conjures up laughs from the audience – who were wildly amused by the overheated performances.

The characters struggle for words – they know the passion, but they don’t have a script. We hear clumsy lines like, “The heart is a big muscle, and yours is larger than normal,” and “You can love two women at a time,” or “I want to watch you eat and then lick your plate when you are finished.”

The role playing seems to be seriously leading to the real thing, and Youssif and Hadeel get there rather quickly: declarations of undying love lead to a proposal of marriage by Youssif, and Hadeel accepts. Then true to form for a soap opera, there is a knock at the door, and Hadeel’s beau, the hapless Ahmed (Monty Cole, who also directs) arrives, determined to propose to Hadeel himself.

Ahmed does, and Hadeel accepts. And so it goes, with complications rising as Youssif’s girlfriend Bana (Cassidy Slaughter-Mason) arrives, angry because she senses Youssif has been untrue. This meta-soap opera grinds on comically, until the action ends, and the actors take a bow. The playwright has drawn us close with this show.

And with us in his clutches, Calderon resumes the play with a faked post show discussion by the cast, and we are lead to another plane of performance that is mind-bending, to say the least. I won’t spoil the last 20 percent of the show, but to see where the mind of Guillermo Calderon takes us under the direction of Monty Cole – it’s well, well worth seeing. Likewise the performances by Ardebili and Ishak are excellent. 

Kiss is also a social commentary. The characters names and the Arabic script on the televised soap opera playing on the set let us know it is set in the Middle East. Information in the lobby reveals it is Syria, where soap operas are celebrated form of cultural expression. They are censored, in that criticism of the government isn’t permitted.

But Syrian actors and scriptwriters insert social commentary subversively. In the lobby you can also learn a bit of famous Syrian actress Mai Skaf, who died in exile two years ago, following harassment for political dissidence. If there is a Jeff Award for dramaturgy, the researchers who brings such scripts as Kiss (and also Pomona) to Chicago are certainly deserving of it. Kiss runs through August 18 at Den Theatre.

As with any good mystery, suspense, intrigue and surprise are the key elements in making a successful story that keeps one on the edge of their seat and keeps you guessing. ‘And Then There Were None’ at Drury Lane in Oakbrook has it all. And even though I have seen this play before, I did not remember the ending and was thoroughly surprised and shocked to find out who “dunnit” and why!

Without giving anything away, this Agatha Christie story is about ten strangers who have been invited to an island vacation by a secretive host or hostess. After realizing that there is a murderer on the island and no escape until a boat comes, the characters all begin displaying their own foibles and ways of coping with what seems to be certain death with some welcoming it and others fighting to the death to stay alive. As the mystery progresses, clues unfold that keep amateur sleuths (audience members) involved as we try piece the puzzle together.  

The mature and very talented, ensemble cast includes Vera Clayton (Cher Alvarez), Justice Wargrave (Matt DeCaro), Mrs. Rogers (Jennifer Engstrom), Emily Brent (Marilyn Dodds Frank), Fred Narracott (Casey Hoekstra), William Blore (Paul-Jordan Jansen), Anthony Marston (Zachary Keller), Doctor Armstrong (David Kortemeier), Philip Lombard (Yousof Sultani), Thomas Rogers (Paul Tavianini), and General Mackenzie (Bruce Young). And all ten had a solid grip on their characters. I was particularly impressed with Emily Brent as Marilyn Dodds Frank. Brent really knows how to infuse every word and look with an element of intensity and humor as her character teeters on the brink of sanity.

The set design by Andrew Boyce was particularly lush in depicting a mansion set on a private island somewhere off the coast of Maine with a stunning view of the ocean. As one who truly enjoys a water view, I was engaged immediately. Directed with great timing by Jessica Fisch, this production had me guessing on the murderers' identity right up until the last scene. But though the thought of a murder mystery might be macabre to some, the play infuses enough humor to keep things light enough for everyone to appreciate. 

There is a very interesting subtext in this story by Christie wherein the murderer has real reasons to kill off each of the guests who are guilty of murder in various ways themselves. The murderer has justified in his or her mind that killing each of these "alleged" murderers is the right way to serve up justice, and to a point the audience begins to actually want to see some of the characters die. But by the end it is clear that when a human presumes to "play God" they must be ready to experience the kick back of instant karma! Recommended for a fun Summer night of mystery solving that is suspenseful but not too scary for the whole family to enjoy.

‘And Then There Were None’ is a delightful whodunnit that is attractive to all sorts of theatre goers. Playing at Drury Lane Theatre in Oakbrook, you can catch this fun mystery through September 1st For more show information visit www.drurylanetheatre.com.

Pomona at Steep Theatre is among the most exhilarating productions I have seen this year. Directed by Robin Witt, who selected this imaginative script by British playwright Alistair McDowall, the play follows a familiar theme in British crime dramas: the disappearance of working girls, spirited away in this case from house of prostitution.

But Pomona is much more than that. Set in the real-life Pomona, a once fashionable and now abandoned acreage encircled by England’s M50 freeway, and bordered by two canals in the city center of Manchester, it conjures up the terror associated with an unlit, unpopulated terrain that makes a dark hole in the brightly lit cityscape.

The action centers around the world of two night watchmen (abbove) – bearded, burly Moe (Nate Faustman) and his young sidekick Charlie (Brandon Rivera) – who are charged with guarding Pomona from unauthorized visitors. At rare intervals, unmarked vans are admitted, driving into the flat terrain before disappearing into a warren of subterranean passages and vaults. Neither Moe nor Charlie know who is in the vans, or what happens below ground in what are supposedly former World War II shelters. The truth we learn later is even more nefarious than Moe, Charlie or the audience might have guessed.

This dystopian tale is also in part a staged realization of the type of role playing found in Dungeons & Dragons. The game itself also appears as part of the action, as it happens to be Charlie’s major social outlet when he is not at work.

As the play opens, we meet a graying, world-weary Manchester real estate mogul, Zeppo (Peter Moore), sitting atop a packing crate next to Ollie (Amber Sollis), who is seeking his help to locate her sister, who she believes may have disappeared into the subterranean Pomona. Behind them sits a mysterious individual wearing an extraterrestrial mask. Periodically Zeppo directs Ollie to hand the creature a nugget.

The three rotate continuously before the audience in a sustained introductory dialog in what is an intriguing bit of stageplay. This also serves as a praecis to the drama to come, and sets the essential theme of the play: absolving oneself of moral culpability by remaining ignorant. Reluctant to get involved, Zeppo finally agrees to help Ollie, but offers her a warning, philosophizing that he believes in “selective education,” meaning there are some things it is better not to know about.

These days, “You can’t be a good person; there is no such thing,” Zeppo postulates. “There are only those who know the pain they are causing; and those who don’t.” Ignorance is, if not bliss, at least a form of absolution.

The cinematic style of the script and staging cuts rapidly to four successive scenes, introducing more characters, all of whom are desperate. (It reminded me of the movie, “Crash.”) Fay (Ashlyn Lozano) a woman on the run pleading with her babysitter to stay with her child; cold-blooded Keaton (Phoebe Moore), ordering her investment advisor to withdraw all her money and burn it; Moe and Charlie injuring themselves to stage an alibi.

As the story unfolds, these scenes (which jump around in time) all become clear. The provocative scenes also draw us into the action, and McDowall doesn’t let us go. The show flies by for 100 minutes (no intermission).

The entire cast is uniformly excellent, though I grew to love the range delivered by Brandon Rivera, whose Charlie runs the gamut of dramatic personae: the role-playing Dungeon Master, the nerdy young man hoping to find a girlfriend, the naïve protégé of Moe, and a sobered individual who refuses to go on. Nate Faust brought a layered sensitivity to his role as Moe, with moving scenes in which he displays vulnerability with Fay, and an unlikely nurturance for Charlie.

Kudos to dialect coach Adam Goldstein on the Manchester accents – completely convincing (and I have been there a few times) – but the cast exercised careful discipline in consistency here. Likewise applause for Joe Schermoly (Scenic Design), Brandon Wardell (Lighting) and Jenny Pinson (Props) for an integrated and effective whole. Costumes by Aly Amidei are also noteworthy. Pomona has been selling out, so let's hope the run is extended. Pomona runs through September 14 at Steep Theatre, 1115 W. Berwyn in Chicago.

After seeing Strange Heart Beating, I felt the less said about this show, which is a murder mystery at its heart- the better. Its characters struck me as unrealistic, the dialog veers to wooden at many points, and the story is outlandish and complex.

Yet in describing its storyline to others, I found they were interested in it. Directed by Addie Gorlin, Strange Heart Beating follows a murder investigation, the mysterious disappearance of a young girl drowned in a lake – and the unfortunate fate of a young man, Ramon (Brandon Rodriguez), implicated in that murder. He is a factory worker at a nearby turkey processing plant, but claims as an alibi that he was only nearby to study the wildlife around the lake. The mother of the young girl, Lena (Leah Raidt) is properly distraught, even deranged at the inconsolable loss of her daughter.

In the course of the drama Lena moves from victim’s mother, to suspect, to witness – and eventually (and here playwright Kristin Idaszak may be drawing on magical realism) she gets trained and certified to become the executioner of the now convicted killer. The town sheriff, Teeny (Jyreika Guest), was best friends with Lena growing up. Now Teeny must investigate this murder, which divides their relationship with a wall of professionalism.

As the drama progresses and the case moves to court, Teeny adopts roles of both the prosecutor and court administrator – which bothered me on the level of likelihood and realism. There are two or three more wrinkles thrown into Strange Heart Beating: the lake is suffering biological degradation (herons become erratic); the turkey plant’s experiments in bioengineering yield creatures with extra legs and four breasts; and there are other young girls who have gone missing, some possibly undocumented immigrants and children of color.

All that and the kitchen sink as problems (the content advisory reads "Strange Heart Beating contains discussions about sexual violence against women, suicide, racism, xenophobia, and capital punishment") diffuses the focus. The cast does their best to work with what they've got. The one who gets a reprieve here is Stephanie Shum, who plays the spirit of the Lake with her signature gusto - and the lines are poetic and quite apt for a Lake. 

In an interview accompanying the program, Idaszak says the story is based loosely on the Jacob Wetterling case, which lay cold for 27 years in a Minnesota village. She wanted to look at why a town would remain silent with a killer in their midst for almost three decades. It would have been a better story if that had been the case. 

Idaszak says she was following in the steps of Raymond Chandler and other noir writers to generate the story, but seeking a less misogynist resolution. All this is compelling on paper, but not so much on stage. Too many axes to grind in this show, and so the dramatics lose their edge. Strange Heart Beating runs through July 28 at the Frontier space, 1106 W. Thorndale in Chicago. 

As the Chicago premiere of Dave Malloy’s Ghost Quartet was set to start, a cast member walked across the stage, stopping to thank us for attending before adding, “See you on the other side,” in the spookiest voice and with the spookiest face, setting the stage for more than an hour of spooky musical and musicality to come.

I was not too familiar with the content of Malloy’s “song cycle” before the show, only aware that he’d also penned the renowned Tony winner, Natasha, Pierre & The Great Comet of 1812. I’d also given a preliminary listen to some of Ghost Quartet’s soundtrack during morning train rides, finding a favorite here or there among the play’s songs, but leaving myself in the dark as to its story.

Having seen the show now, I’m still not sure the story is any clearer, but I’m pretty sure that’s purposeful (and why it’s referred to as a “song cycle”). And I’m pretty sure that titling it a “Quartet” is a perfect label. Because over the course of an hour-and-a-half (with no intermission), the story (or stories, as Poe and Scheherazade and Thelonious Monk and a telescope and a bear and a subway and, I think, Little Red Riding Hood, are all mashed up together) became secondary to everything else the audience was offered. And because over the course of said production (directed by Ed Rutherford), the four-piece cast acts much as a classical or vocal quartet does — playing with and off one another to deliver a delightful and disparate musical program.

The feel of a musical program (as opposed to a musical musical) is highlighted with the introduction of each of the 20 tunes — each “track” presented as part of an album or a mixtape. Some of the songs are part of a greater whole (perhaps this could be described as a “concept album”?), but many stand alone on their own musical merits. The ethereal “Starchild” is equal parts Bowie and ballade. “Any Kind of Dead Person” rollicks and frolics into Klezmer territory. “Fathers and Sons” is a duet, both vocally and via cooperative percussion. And “Four Friends” is one of the better drinking songs I’ve heard in quite some time (seriously, I wish I’d known that chorus back in my whiskey-drinking days!).

But each of those songs, and the other 16 that make up the show, are only as powerful or playful or seductive or stunning as the four extraordinary talents who give them life. And what extraordinary talents each of the four cast members possesses.

Possessed of extraordinary talent both vocally and physically, Amanda Raquel Martinez (the one whose spooky salutation greeted us) brings the chills throughout. At times displaying an operatic soprano, at others displaying the ability to contort her face into a possession that’d make Linda Blair’s head spin, Martinez had my focus through the show, and my musician’s admiration, as well, as she played ukulele, guitar, accordion, and percussion throughout.

Martinez’s counterpart Rachel Guth earned my equal admiration, come to think of it. Going from vixenish to virtuous, from gangly and girlish to sultry and seductive, Guth displayed an acting range only bolstered by her timeless look and her ability to sing anything from heartbreaking ballad to boozy barroom belter.

But if it seemed I couldn’t peel my gaze from Martinez or Guth, I think the cast member I watched with the most awe was Alex Ellsworth. Ellsworth played the cello for the entire show, grounding the quartet in its stringed roots. And while he played various roles (and some percussion), it was Ellsworth’s ability to make the cello just about anything but a cello that kept drawing my eyes and ears to his corner of the stage (decorated eerily and beautifully by Jeremy Hollis, I should add). At times it was a violin, at others a fiddle. When needed it provided ethereal sound effect. And at one point it was held on Ellsworth’s lap like a giant banjo and strummed with a pick. About the only thing Ellsworth’s cello didn’t do was harmonize with the other three actors — thankfully its owner’s got an enviable knack for vocal harmonies that turned a trio into a foursome.

And the fourth of the foursome, T.J. Anderson, I’d liken to that oft-forgotten stepchild of the string quartet, the viola, if you don’t mind me keeping on with that analogy. While his castmates might have gotten the juiciest parts to play (remember, this story’s made up of many stories, so each actor fills quite a few roles) and the choicest songs to sing, Anderson holds the whole thing together. He does so on the piano, which he plays for most of the show (accompanied here and there by man-behind-the-curtain musical director Nick Sula). He does so while pounding a tom-tom or while donning a black leather jacket. He does so by making each of the other three better and the sum of their parts greater.

So, if you’re looking to see four of our city’s talented actor/singer/musician types who I hope we all come to know better tackle a “song cycle” that you’ll leave knowing better, catch Black Button Eyes’ Ghost Quartet at Stage 773 from now until August 17.