Items filtered by date: July 2026

Steppenwolf's LookOut Series is proud to unveil its lineup for Summer 2026, marking ten years of steadfast dedication to Chicago performing artists and companies across form and discipline.

Since launching in 2016, the LookOut Series has hosted 1,043 performances of 365 unique engagements spanning dance, drag, music, comedy, puppetry, storytelling, experimental work and theatre. Over 69,000 patrons have come through the doors of the 1700 Theater to witness the work of more than 3,200 local artists. And the series has injected nearly one million dollars directly into the wallets of the artists and companies that it bolsters.

From June through August, LookOut is throwing a summer-long party to celebrate! Of the 18 unique engagements announced, highlights include many returning acts, including: the homecoming of the cult-classic variety show Erik and Jessie and Everyone You Know (hosted by Erik Hellman and Jessie Fisher), an experimental blending of sound and myth from the indescribable artist collective Mocrep (returning to Steppenwolf for the first time since 2019), the 11th Steppenwolf-hosted iteration of the endlessly popular storytelling showcase You're Being Ridiculous and the triumphant return of local drag icon Bambi Banks with a two week run of an all new drag parody show.

But the summer wouldn't be complete without newcomers to the LookOut Series performing at Steppenwolf for the first time. First time performers include: the comedy show Women Off-Colour, complete with sketches, musical numbers and more, The Lizzie McGuire Movie: The Play fresh off a sold out run at Color Club, award-winning "Comic-To-Watch" in the Chicago standup scene Deanna Ortiz and the Chicago premiere of Forgottonia, a music and storytelling show about West Central Illinois.

Steppenwolf Creative Producer and Co-Founder of the LookOut Series Patrick Zakem comments, "As Steppenwolf nears the end of its 50th Anniversary Season, we're excited to mark another institutional milestone: ten years of the endlessly eclectic LookOut Series. When we launched this program in May 2016, we didn't really imagine that we would still be going ten years later. But over the last decade, LookOut's programming has grown to be a vital resource for Chicago artists of all stripes, from dance and drag to comedy and music. We can't wait to celebrate with old friends and new – see you in the 1700 Theater!"

All LookOut performances take place in Steppenwolf's 1700 Theater, an intimate and flexible venue nestled behind Front Bar, 1700 N. Halsted St. in Chicago. Tickets, which range in price from $13 – $50*, are now on sale by visiting steppenwolf.org/lookout or by calling the Box Office at (312) 335-1650. *Pricing includes a $3 fee

The full Lookout Summer 2026 Season (in chronological order):

You're Being Ridiculous: Plot Twist 
Dates: Thursday, June 4 – Saturday, June 6 at 7:30 pm; Saturday, June 6 at 3 pm 
Ticket Price: $30
Description: At You're Being Ridiculous, real people tell true stories about their lives. Each performance is linked by rotating themes, and by the desire to make you laugh... and, once in a while, cry. Our motto: Good stories are better than good times. We laugh at ourselves and laugh with each other. Everyone has a story to tell. What's yours? 

Softie 
by Tim Felton
Dates: Friday, June 12 & Saturday, June 13 at 7:30 pm
Ticket Price: $20
Description: Sometimes a dad is also a daddy. And sometimes that daddy is also a Softie. Chicago-based comedian, Tim Felton (picture the lovechild of Mr. Rogers Pee-wee Herman and Buster Bluth), invites you along in his journey as he figures out how to connect with people as he gets older... and softer.  

Jillian Ebanks: 
Who All Gone Be There? 
Directed by Kiley Fitzgerald 
Dates: Thursday, June 18 at 7:30 pm 
Ticket Price: $23
Description: Life for Jillian in her 30s has been one big, weird party, and all she has wanted to know is Who All Gone Be There? Come join Jillian for this live taping of new material as she explores the guest list of her life through comedy. 

Funny Slut 
A solo show by Deanna Ortiz
Dates: Saturday, June 20 & Sunday, June 21 at 7:30 pm
Ticket Price: $25
Description: Deanna Ortiz used to think her job was just posting thirst traps for porn stars. Turns out, it was also therapy... with a 401(k). In Funny Slut, Deanna tells the hilarious and unexpectedly heartfelt story of working in social media for the adult entertainment industry where she learned to embrace chaos, confidence and her inner hot girl. 

Mocrep Presents: 
I Live Every Day
Dates: Thursday, June 25 – Saturday, June 27 at 7:30 pm
Ticket Price: $13 – $53
Description: The "mostly performance, arguably music" Chicago-based collective Mocrep returns to the LookOut Series. I Live Every Day is a noisy yet mellifluous riff on twang, repetition, feedback and kitchen appliances simultaneously inspired by the myth of Narcissus and the music of Tammy Wynette. 

Women Off-Colour 
Featuring Anelga Hajjar, Alondra Rios and Mantra
Dates: Wednesday, July 1 – Friday, July 3 at 7:30 pm
Ticket Price: $23
Description: Ethnicities we've dated, ethnicities who've wronged us, dads (alive and not), older sister trauma, ethnic moms, cycles we want to break and growing up with curves. These are some of the topics Mantra, Alondra and Anelga muse on in Women Off-Colour. Featuring musical numbers, sketches and monologues, this show invites women to be offensive, wrong and unapologetic.  

Erik and Jessie and Everyone You Know: 
Past and Future
Dates: Monday, July 6 & Tuesday, July 7 at 7:30 pm
Ticket Price: $43
Description: Ten years ago, Erik Hellman and Jessie Fischer brought everyone they knew to celebrate the opening of the 1700 Theater. Now EVERYONE will return for two nights, TWO DIFFERENT SHOWS! Monday: we visit the PAST. Tuesday: we visit the FUTURE. Join us for either or both. 

Derek Begrudgingly Presents: 
The Lizzie McGuire Movie: The Play
Dates: Friday, July 10 & Saturday, July 11 at 7:30 pm; Saturday, July 11 at 3 pm
Ticket Price: $28 
Description: After two sold out runs at Color Club and winning runner up in Chicago Reader's Best New Play category, The Lizzie McGuire Movie: The Play is back to show you what dreams are really made of. Through dance, drag, a live band, over-the-top acting and giant DIY cardboard props, this parody production reimagines Lizzie McGuire's iconic trip to Rome in a way Disney would never allow and finally answers the question, "what the hell happened to Miranda??" 

Nervous Breakdown in G Minor 
by Lewis Rawlinson 
Dates: Friday, July 17 & Saturday, July 18 at 7:30 pm; Sunday, July 19 at 3 pm 
Ticket Price: $30
Description: How do you pursue an art form you love when you no longer feel you belong? In this solo show with live music, Lewis Rawlinson traces his journey through queerness, addiction and mental health. Nervous Breakdown in G Minor is a lyrical autobiography about growing up Mormon in Montana, training as a classical cellist and confronting the realities of pursuing a life in music.  

Dream Devis: The Death and Life Of 
Created by Abhijeet & Leha Salam
Dates: Thursday, July 23 – Saturday, July 25 at 7:30 pm; Sunday, July 26 at 3 pm 
Ticket Price: $33
Description: Dream Devis, Chicago's trans femme South Asian collective, return to Steppenwolf after their sold-out eponymous show last year. Join our Devis for an existentialist romp through time, history, mythology and pop culture through song, dance and comedy. 

The Real Time – Live! 
With Briana Bower, Ian Paul Custer, Kelan M Smith, Jack Morsovillo & Lior Shragg
Dates: Thursday, July 30 at 7:30 pm
Ticket Price: $23
Description: The Real Time is a Chicago-based female-fronted five-piece band specializing in unique original music. Their music blends multiple eras and genres resulting in their pop-rock-funk sound. They'll be sure to get you movin' and groovin' with their upbeat jams and four-part harmonies. Come rock out with them! 

Michiganderish 
Written and performed by Julie Ganey
Music by Mike Przygoda, Directed by Ann Filmer 
Dates: Saturday, August 1 at 7:30 pm; Sunday, August 2 at 3 pm 
Ticket Price: $15 – $50
Description: Julie Ganey finds a little place for her family to get away from it all in the Great Lakes State and discovers it's not that simple. Cue chainsaws, chipmunks, menacing deer and eco-heroes! Michiganderish is a solo show about apocalyptic nature, reaping what we sow and an examination of what it means to truly belong to a place. 

The Not That Late Show
Dates: Thursday, August 6 at 7:30 pm
Ticket Price: $23
Description: Blending news-driven comedy with late-night-style interviews, The Not That Late Show is a Chicago-based variety show that aims to create space for people to live, laugh, learn... and leave at a reasonable hour. A show for Chicago, by Chicago. 

Chris Vallillo Presents:
Forgottonia
Dates: Saturday, August 8 at 7:30 pm; Sunday, August 9 at 3 pm
Ticket Price: $25
Description: Forgottonia is a musical journey through the evolution of the people and places in rural Midwestern America as seen through the eyes of songwriter Chris Vallillo. Vallillo combines storytelling and live music with the images of award-winning rural photographer Tim Schroll to create an audio-visual love letter to the region's past, present and future. 

Dionna Griffin-Irons:
This is My Moment 
Directed by Anthony Irons with music by Alexander Burke
Dates: Thursday, August 13 – Saturday, August 15 at 7:30 pm
Ticket Price: $38
Description: Blending "theatricalized" essays, satirical songs and poetic prose, This is My Moment features the real life story of a woman who has experienced the best life has to offer – a kingpin lover from the past, a jail adventure that tests her faith and a comedy career that teaches the gift of saying "Yes." 

Carl Chadek: You're Not Right for That!
Dates: Wednesday, August 19 at 7:30 pm
Ticket Price: $38
Description: Carl Chadek: You're Not Right for That! is an old-school style cabaret with music from Broadway, the great American songbook, classic pop and just maybe a little comedy. Think dinner jackets, evening gowns and martinis. Nobody is right for everything, and auditioning can be, well, interesting.  

Claire Lochmueller:
CRACKS
A one-trans-woman dark comedy memoir 
Dates: Friday, August 21 & Saturday, August 22 at 7:30 pm
Ticket Price: $15 – $30
Description: Through a hybrid of storytelling, stand-up comedy and theatre, this one-trans-woman dark comedy memoir by Claire Lochmueller details a journey from a childhood in the Catholic Church/JROTC military school to a career as a multi-award-winning trans theatre-maker. CRACKS navigates topics of gender identity, substance abuse and finding joy in a story about how two lives, through laughter and tears, became one trans identity. 

Bambi Banks Presents: 
Clue University: A Drag Parody
By Neutral Gena 
Dates: Thursday, August 27 – Sunday, September 6; Thursdays, Fridays & Saturdays at 7:30 pm, Sundays at 3 pm
Ticket Price: $33
Description: Bambi Banks returns to the LookOut Series with Clue University, a slasher parody play that combines all the fun and whimsy of the game of Clue with the complicated world of a collegiate rush week. In this thrilling murder mystery, six Sorority Sisters must unmask a killer living amongst them, testing their bonds of sisterhood and bringing to light the question: is blood thicker than power? 

Accessibility:

Steppenwolf's 1700 Theater is equipped with an induction hearing loop and assistive listening devices (ALDs) are available upon request. Our building features wheelchair-accessible seating and restrooms, push-button entrances, a courtesy wheelchair, and all-gender restrooms, with accessible counter and table spaces at our bars. For additional information regarding accessibility, visit steppenwolf.org/plan-your-visit/accessibility or e-mail This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it..

Sponsor Information: 

The LookOut Series is supported in part by the Walder Foundation. United Airlines is the Official and Exclusive Airline of Steppenwolf. Steppenwolf is also grateful for the significant season support from lead sponsors Allstate Insurance Company, Paul M. Angell Family Foundation, Bloomberg Philanthropies, Crown Family Philanthropies, Caroline and Keating Crown, Julius Frankel Foundation, Lefkofsky Family Foundation, Northern Trust, Anne and Don Phillips, John Hart and Carol Prins, Shubert Foundation, Inc, Walder Foundation, and Zell Family Foundation. Steppenwolf also acknowledges generous support from premier sponsors Anonymous, Andrew and Amy Bluhm, Michael and Cathy Brennan, Ann and Richard Carr, Chicago Community Trust, Conagra Brands Foundation, Rich and Margery Feitler, FROST CHICAGO, John D. and Catherine T. MacArthur Foundation, The Orlebeke Foundation, Polk Bros. Foundation, Sacks Family Foundation, Harold and Mimi Steinberg Charitable Trust, Thoma Bravo, and Bryan Traubert and Penny Pritzker. Steppenwolf also acknowledges support from the Illinois Arts Council and the City of Chicago Department of Cultural Affairs and Special Events. uncil and the Department of Cultural Affairs and Special Events. 

About Steppenwolf Theatre Company:

Steppenwolf Theatre Company is the nation's premier Ensemble Theater with 50 members who are among the top actors, playwrights and directors in the field. Thrilling, powerful, groundbreaking productions have made this theatre legendary. From the 1980 phenomenon of Balm in Gilead, to The Grapes of Wrath, August: Osage County, Downstate, The Brother/Sister Plays, and now, the 2025 Pulitzer Prize and Tony Award-winning Purpose, Steppenwolf Theatre has had a long-running and undeniable impact on American Theatre and Chicago's cultural landscape. Founded in 1975 by Terry Kinney, Jeff Perry and Gary Sinise, Steppenwolf started as a group of young people in their teens and early 20s performing in the basement of a church. Today, the company's artistic force remains rooted in the original vision of its founders: an artist-driven theatre, whose vitality is defined by its appetite for bold and innovative work. Every aspect of Steppenwolf is rooted in its Ensemble ethos, from the intergenerational artistic programming to the multi-genre performance series LookOut, to the nationally recognized work of Steppenwolf Education and Engagement which serves nearly 15,000 teens annually. While grounded in the Chicago community, more than 40 original Steppenwolf productions have enjoyed success nationally and internationally, including Broadway, Off-Broadway, London, Sydney, Galway and Dublin. Steppenwolf also holds accolades that include the National Medal of Arts, 14 Tony Awards, two Pulitzer Prize-winning commissions and more. Led by Artistic Directors Glenn Davis and Audrey Francis, Executive Director E. Brooke Flanagan and Board of Trustees Chair Keating Crown — Steppenwolf continually redefines the boundaries of live theater and pushes the limits of acting and performance.

Steppenwolf's Mission: Steppenwolf strives to create thrilling, courageous and provocative art in a thoughtful and inclusive environment. We succeed when we disrupt your routine with experiences that spark curiosity, empathy and joy. We invite you to join our ensemble as we navigate, together, our complex world. steppenwolf.org, facebook.com/steppenwolftheatre, twitter.com/steppenwolfthtr and instagram.com/steppenwolfthtr.

A show somewhere between a play, standup act, memoir, and PowerPoint presentation. A show so chaotic you think it could never work. A show only Brendan Hunt could so perfectly pull off. Hunt’s solo performance is as hilarious as it is unexpectedly emotional, striking a balance between humor and trauma that only a child of divorce could pull off.

Hunt begins in 2022 with the story of the impromptu opportunity he had to meet Paul McCartney. Despite getting the opportunity by virtue of being a celebrity himself, Hunt – a lifelong, second-generation Beatles fan – was starstruck and wanted to tell Paul everything. He refrained, however, and thus The Movement You Need was born: a show where, instead, Hunt tells you everything he wanted to tell Paul. What unfolds is less a traditional narrative and more a kind of extended, often chaotic, and retrospective confession that uses that near-miss encounter as a framing device. It’s a clever but risky structure that gives the show both direction and elasticity, allowing Hunt to bounce between stories, timelines, and emotional registers (as well as lean into his personal neuroticism) without ever letting us forget that he’s fangirling to Sir Paul McCartney.

Loosely structured like a memoir, the show traces Hunt’s life from his earliest memories through adulthood and into fatherhood. Along the way, he paints a picture of growing up as a child of divorce and the son of an addict, filtering those experiences through humor that feels both self-aware and disarmingly honest. The performance leans into its rough edges in a way that works in its favor – featuring remarkably bad impressions, authentically cringey home videos, and stories that range from deeply processed to intentionally brushed past. Often, the line between curated and embarrassing is difficult to walk well (and such is the risk of making art) but as both a writer and performer, under the incredible direction of Ashley Rodbro, Hunt does so perfectly.

The evening, however, actually included more than one Brendan: Brendan Hunt, an avid Beatles fan, and an audience member who we will refer to as Brendan #2 – the lone, brave audience member who admitted to not being a Beatles fan at all. Centering a play around a fandom, even one of the largest of all time, is a premise that, on paper, might seem limiting. And yet, while Hunt’s love for the Beatles is the backbone of the piece, it’s not the barrier to entry you might expect. The show ultimately isn’t about encyclopedic knowledge of the band; it’s about memory, identity, and the stories we carry with us, as well as the way that we use something – anything – to form connections with those around us, even in the hardest of circumstances.

Technically, the production is just as thoroughly considered as the writing. The set strikes a careful balance between cozy realism and subtle nostalgia, creating a space that feels lived-in without becoming cluttered. Design elements – from Meredith Ries’s scenic work to Nick Solyom’s lighting, Kate Marvin’s sound, and Stefania Bulbarella’s projections – support the storytelling without overpowering it. Under the direction of Ashley Rodbro, everything feels intentional, giving Hunt the space to carry the show while ensuring the world around him remains fully realized and reflects his theatrical background, but never overpowering his performance.

Brendan Hunt’s one-man play-comedy-memoir hybrid is, from its writing to acting to production, one of the most cohesive and well-executed pieces of art I have seen in a long time. One big creative risk, the result is a show that feels less like something you watched and more like something you experienced alongside him. It’s funny, yes, and often wildly so – but it’s the emotional honesty underneath that gives it weight, turning what could have been a niche concept into something far more universal.

The Movement You Need: An Evening with Brendan Hunt is running at Steppenwolf Theatre through May 10th. More information and tickets are available at https://www.steppenwolf.org/tickets--events/seasons-/2025-26/the-movement-you-need/.

This review is proudly shared with our friends at www.TheatreInChicago.com. 

The Chicago theater community is grappling with the sudden loss of Matt DeCaro, whose death early Saturday came as a shock to colleagues and audiences alike. A cause of death has not been made public. Only hours before, he had taken the stage at the Goodman Theatre, performing the role of Sturdyvant in Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom during Friday night’s show. His unexpected passing led to the cancellation of Saturday’s matinee, while the evening performance moved forward as a tribute to his decades of work and the impact he left on the city’s artistic landscape.

DeCaro’s career stretched across more than four decades and reached nearly every major stage in Chicago. His long association with the Goodman Theatre included roles in Heartbreak House, The White Snake, The Cherry Orchard, Night of the Iguana, Boy Gets Girl, Camino Real, Romance, Richard II, Spinning into Butter, and The Play About the Baby. He moved fluidly between companies and styles, portraying Winston Churchill in Drury Lane’s The Audience, stepping into Doc’s role in Marriott Theatre’s West Side Story, and earning a Jeff Award for his performance in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. His work extended across the region as well, with appearances at Chicago Shakespeare Theater, Victory Gardens, Licoln Center, the Guthrie, and Asolo Rep. Beyond his extensive Goodman history, DeCaro built a substantial body of work across the city, including a standout turn in Steppenwolf’s Men of Tortuga - recognized by the Chicago Tribune as one of 2005’s most memorable performances - and a role in Victory Gardens’ Symmetry, further underscoring his versatility and command as a character actor.

His screen résumé was equally wide-ranging, with roles in Prison Break, The Office, Curb Your Enthusiasm, Chicago P.D., ER, U.S. Marshals, and Richie Rich. Yet for many, it was his presence on Chicago stages that defined him - steady, generous, and deeply rooted in the craft. Among the roles that left a lasting mark on those who followed his work, DeCaro’s Big Daddy in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof at Drury Lane stands out as a personal favorite. The mix of authority and raw vulnerability he brought to the character made the performance unforgettable - the kind that lingers in your mind long after the production has ended.

As tributes continue to emerge, the sense of loss is felt not only by those who worked beside him, but by audiences who witnessed his final performance just one night before his passing - a testament to how fully he remained devoted to the work until the very end.

In losing Matt DeCaro, Chicago loses one of the quiet forces that helped shape its stages for decades. His work was never about spotlight or spectacle - it was about craft, commitment, and the kind of presence that made every production stronger simply because he was in it. Even as the community mourns, the stories he told and the characters he embodied continue to resonate, a lasting reminder of an artist who gave everything he had to the world he loved.

Dark comedies built around relationship dynamics have always drawn me in because they reveal conflict with a kind of honesty that feels both familiar and unpredictable. When couples clash, the humor isn’t just situational; it’s rooted in history, habit, and the tiny emotional landmines only long-term partners know how to trigger. Fault fits squarely into that tradition, taking the everyday rhythms of a long marriage and pushing them just far enough to expose the raw, funny, and uncomfortable truths beneath the surface. That blend of recognition and surprise is exactly what makes this kind of comedy so compelling, and why Fault lands with such a specific charge.

That sense of intimate volatility is exactly what Jason Alexander explores in his return to Chicago Shakespeare Theater. With Fault, he brings the sharp directorial instinct he showed in his earlier CST production Judgment Day and applies it to a far more contained emotional landscape. In this world premiere written by Scooter Pietsch, he shapes the play’s tightening grid of tension and moral uncertainty with a touch that feels both precise and unexpectedly humane. The result is a tightly focused piece driven by tension that sparks almost instantly - less an explosive outburst than a controlled shift in the room - with the personal fractures between the characters steering the story toward its breaking point.

Pictured are Enrico Colantoni (Jerry), Playwright Scooter Pietsch, Rebecca Spence (Lucy), Nick Marini (Shaun), and Director Jason Alexander. April 18– May 24, 2026, in The Yard at Chicago Shakespeare. Photo by Justin Barbin.

In Fault, the night detonates the moment Jerry Green walks in expecting to celebrate a career defining merger and instead finds his wife, Lucy, in an intimate moment with a young man she has just met, Shaun. What could have ended in a single, stunned confrontation instead becomes the spark for a long, spiraling night in which no one is allowed to leave, and nothing stays contained. The shock of the discovery quickly gives way to a volatile mix of accusations, shifting alliances, and long suppressed grievances, turning their home into a closed-door standoff where every truth feels like a trap and every explanation opens a deeper wound. Jerry and Lucy have long operated as a high functioning power couple, relying on professional unity to keep their marriage steady; once that balance collapses, the cracks at home widen just as quickly. It is interesting that Pietsch also underscores the irony that Jerry’s career‑defining merger has just made the couple newly minted billionaires after a long string of failures, and yet - proving that all the money in the world can’t change some people - they still behave like high‑achieving narcissists, turning their blame and abuse on each other and on the young stranger they’ve invited into their lavish home.

As the hours stretch on, the situation tilts from chaotic to revealing, exposing the fractures that have been quietly shaping this marriage for decades. Jerry’s need for control, Lucy’s hunger for something unspoken, and Shaun’s unexpected presence collide in ways that force each of them to confront what they’ve been avoiding. What begins as a moment of betrayal becomes a full-scale excavation of loyalty, resentment, and the stories couples tell themselves to stay intact. The play’s dark humor emerges from this escalating tension - how quickly a single mistake can unravel a life, and how a marriage can be tested most brutally not by the act itself, but by everything it brings to the surface. And just to remind you, this is a comedy - and a hilarious one at that.

Jerry even admits at one point that arguments never really have winners, a truth he delivers with the weary certainty of someone who has spent years circling the same conversational battlegrounds. Yet the play understands something deeper and more uncomfortable: that couples can become strangely addicted to the very banter that exhausts them. The back‑and‑forth may bruise, but it also affirms a shared language, a familiar rhythm, a way of feeling alive inside a relationship that has otherwise gone quiet. In Fault, that warped need becomes both a source of comedy and a mirror held up to the audience, revealing how easily love and combat can blur when two people know each other too well.

For all its blistering comedy, Fault is threaded with the quieter, more unsettling realizations that come with aging - what it means to feel your desirability slipping, to lose track of the person you married, or to crave the parts of yourself you fear have vanished. The betrayals at the center of the play aren’t just about infidelity; they’re about the desperate need to feel seen, wanted, and alive again. Beneath the chaos and sharp-edged humor runs a steady pulse of vulnerability, as each character confronts the version of themselves they’ve been avoiding. And just when the night seems like it can’t twist any further, the play barrels into a smash bang ending that lands with real force - the kind that sends audiences out buzzing, debating, and replaying the final moments long after the curtain comes down.

Presenting the world premiere dark comedy Fault, by Scooter Pietsch and directed by Jason Alexander. Featuring Enrico Colantoni (Jerry) and Nick Marini (Shaun). Photo by Justin Barbin.

The cast of Fault features three principal performers, each driving a different charge in the play’s volatile, rapidly escalating night. Enrico Colantoni gives Jerry Green a grounded, lived in presence, letting decades of pent up frustration surface through tightly controlled physical choices and a dry comic timing that makes his smallest shifts register. Opposite him, Chicago favorite Rebecca Spence shapes Lucy Green with a blend of wit, restraint, and emotional clarity; her sharp physical beats and instinctive timing keep each exchange taut while still allowing the humor to flicker through. Shaun, whose chance encounter with Lucy at the bar leads him into the Green household, played by Nick Marini, adds a destabilizing charge to the night, using quick, reactive movement and an agile sense of timing to tilt the dynamic just enough to expose the deeper fractures beneath the couple’s carefully maintained surface.

Their combined work is strengthened by the breadth of experience each actor brings to the stage. Colantoni’s long career in film and television, including standout turns in Veronica Mars and Galaxy Quest, gives his performance a steady, lived in weight. Spence, a Chicago mainstay with a Jeff Award and recent visibility in The Madison, brings sharp focus and emotional clarity to Lucy. Marini adds a younger charge to the trio, drawing on credits like Cobra Kai and Dropout TV to shape a presence that subtly disrupts the relationship dynamic.

The action unfolds inside a tastefully appointed luxury home crafted by scenic designer Paul Tate DePoo III, who gives the Greens a space that gleams with success without ever feeling sterile. A streamlined bar sits at the rear of the room, and the warm finishes, refined furnishings, and subtle touches make the environment inviting rather than ostentatious - a polished retreat that still feels lived in. It’s the kind of setting that should radiate comfort and control, yet under Alexander’s direction it gradually sharpens, its clean lines and curated surfaces taking on a quiet tension as the night begins to break down.

Alexander’s own trajectory mirrors that same level of craft, extending far beyond the stage. Although Jason Alexander is widely known for his television work on Seinfeld and film roles ranging from Pretty Woman to Shallow Hal, he brings none of that celebrity shorthand to Fault. Instead, his decades in front of the camera seem to refine his instincts behind the table. His sense of timing, character shaping, and emotional pacing reflect the precision of someone who has lived inside stories of every scale. It’s a résumé that could easily overshadow a production, yet here it deepens his approach, grounding the play’s volatility in choices that feel thoughtful rather than showy.

Running just ninety minutes without an intermission, Fault maintains a tight, steady pulse that matches the tightening chamber of its late-night unraveling. Chicago Shakespeare Theater presents the world premiere through May 26, offering audiences a sharply observed look at a marriage pushed past its breaking point. What stays with you isn’t only the tension or the humor, but the clarity of the production itself, which recognizes how a single, seismic domestic shift can rattle everything a couple has built, sending shockwaves through a foundation that once seemed unshakeable.

Highly recommended.

For tickets and/or more show information, click here.

This review is proudly shared with our friends at www.TheatreInChicago.com.  

A psychotherapist is held hostage by a gun-toting patient demanding he certify her as stable enough to return to work. That inherently conflictual demand is the core of Max Wolf Friedlich’s “Job” at Writers Theater.

It is an intriguing work. Directed by David Esbjomson it has a slow-burn of reveal in which details might easily turn into spoilers, so be forewarned. In the course of the session both patient and therapist reveal themselves in lengthy discourse, but intermittently scenes flash by that are revelations.

These momentary glimpses during “Job” are impeccable, powerful, rapid-fire, split seconds that are core to the evolving action. High praise is due for lighting design by James F. Ingalls with interwoven sound scapes by co-sound designers Willow James and Christopher Koz and one instantaneous horrifying mask change that feels like a gut punch. Costumes are by Jessica Pabst, and scenic design is by Jack Magaw. “Job” also represents a deft bit of dramaturgy (credit Erin Shea Brady) that this play has been brought to Chicago so soon after gaining considerable buzz in New York.

Opening in a series of flash scenes, at the outset no explanation or context is offered, just a young woman brandishing a gun at an older gentleman in sweater, tie and glasses. The exact scene is presented repeatedly in stroboscopic rapidity, and we are able to see it’s in an office setting, perhaps an academic and a student? A settee dominates the room.

As the play progresses, we are periodically treated again to such scenes repeating themselves. And we in the audience slowly divine that we are witnessing the varying perceptions through the eyes of the patient Jane (Rae Gray is remarkable). She has been sent by her employer to the office of Loyd (Christopher Donahue is excellent), a psychotherapist, for evaluation. The reason? She had a screaming desktop meltdown at work, and was placed on leave until Jane’s sanity can be affirmed by Loyd. That settee is a psychotherapist's couch.

For 85 minutes, the two joust back and forth. Jane has no belief in the efficacy of psychotherapy, and is an unwilling patient. Loyd specializes in tough cases. The playwright records Jane’s unintentional revelations of her deep-seated issues that led to the meltdown, which was shared on social media and went viral, damaging to her and to her employer’s reputation, to say the least.

Under force, Jane has taken the therapist hostage, and argues ardently against his entreaties and skillful non-directive therapeutic efforts to lead her to insights about herself.

"I hate talking about myself," says Jane. "It never seems to get me anywhere."

Despite her best intentions, Jane goes deeper and deeper into her worldview, and also the concrete job-related causes of her meltdown.

And though Loyd is held under force in this session, it is the attraction of their argument about therapy that keeps them there. and the playwright Friedlich provides an excellent recount of the circuitous techniques of an effective therapist that lead patients to self-understanding, and healing.

But not Jane. She is what they call in the psych game “highly defended.” She never experiences an “aha” moment under Lloyd’s guidance. And when one approach fails, Loyd pulls out of his bag other tools, including an extremely direct analysis of Jane delivered point blank to her face. This depiction of the psychotherapy process is a great accomplishment.

Jane is compelling in her intransigence, and offers strong and dismissive arguments against Loyd’s efforts and disses psychoanalysis overall.

"When everything is connected, nothing is," she says. 

During this back and forth we find ourselves moved to ally with the arguments of one side or the other. As the action rises to its climax, Jane nearly nails her therapist to his vulnerability. It is the tension between the two that is intended to make “Job” gripping, but it didn’t quite capture me in that way.

An important subtext lies in Jane’s work. She desperately needs to be at her desk to make her feel grounded and keep her world aligned. But the work is toxic - she flags and removes horrifying and illegal visual content from the web. The continuous encounter with such heinous content, which Jane describes at length, has certainly affected her mental health. But rather than return to it, as Jane desperately desires, maybe she should file a workers comp claim and call it a day.

One problem with the play is that it seems a bit too “literary,” in the story-telling sense of the word. As Jane relates anecdotal elements of her experience at work or her love life, the passages sometimes go on ad nauseum. Show, don’t tell is the maxim on stage. The effect is to deflate the tension between the characters, and I found my attention and interest flagging. I also felt that Jane’s sometimes lengthy discourses weren’t convincingly those of a woman, but maybe that’s just me. Some time is spent on the generational and cultural divides between boomers like Loyd and younger generations represented by Jane. This seemed to detract from the thrust of the drama. 

Still, “Job” is recommended for the great performances, and the excellent production. "Job" runs through June 14, 2026 at Writers Theatre in Glencoe, IL.

*Extended through July 3rd

This review is proudly shared with our friends at www.TheatreInChicago.com. 

Gatecrashers. That’s the term newspapers nearly 100 years ago called the works of self-taught artists when they began “crashing the gates” of the elite art world. It was then when names like Horace Pippin, Anna Mary Robertson (Grandma Moses), and Martin Ramírez were just beginning to be considered consequential contributors to America’s creative excellence.

Since then, a broader understanding and appreciation has grown for the vision and perspective of artists who, for an assortment of reasons, remained or continue to be, untrained. Once the focus shifts from the origins or situational attributes of the artist and to the artistic quality and merit of their artwork, the wealth of talent obscured by bias becomes infinitely more visible.

Recently renovated into a bright jewel-box of an exhibition space, Intuit Art Museum (IAM) in West Town has been championing the output of self-taught and outsider artists for the past 35 years. A trio of new exhibitions that opened in early April gives testimony to the vitality and psychological energy emanating from this branch of the art world. The showings also offer a fresh re-introduction to the breadth of aesthetic beauty found in this creative offshoot. Art at its most natural and original.

Installation views courtesy Intuit Art Museum

Life is an Art: The Collection of Jan Petry showcases the discerning eye of one collector in this rich and highly varied genre. Petry, who enjoyed a long affiliation with IAM when she served as a museum board member for several years, donated more than 60 works from her collection to the museum before her death in 2024. Including paintings, sculptures, folk art and subject matter that was extremely dear to her personally, the Life is an Art exhibition reveals how deep and diverse self-taught art can be.

Greek born Drossos Skyllas’s painting, Tree of Life creates an otherworldly mood of surreal calm as it tells a timeless story regeneration. The skill in which Skyllas manipulates light, causing the painting to be bright and subdued at the same time, immediately attracts. Initially the contrast draws you to the painting where, once you’re before it, you fall even deeper into its compositional riddle.

Tree of Life by Drossos Skylla - M. Oldham, photography

Across the room, a Martin Ramírez watercolor with crayon and paper, (Untitled - Caballero 1950) captures with its subtle complexity. Ramirez often depicted men on horseback, warriors from some bygone south of the border past. In Caballero, a man sits on his mount pointing a highly stylized pistol. The intricate pattern of lines surrounding him on three sides makes him look as if he’s on a stage. Above him, a lavishly ornate canopy locks him in, creating a snapshot of some real or imagined experience through “a world of patterns and repetitions”.

Caballero by Martin Ramirez- M. Oldham, photography

Paintings that spring from biblical inspirations give artistic expression to deeply held belief. The end results can be stunning. Reverend Samuel David Phillips' Revelations gains power the longer you look at it. Through Phillips’ depiction of the seven headed beast in the Bible’s last chapter, he captures the unfathomable essence of apocalypse.

Revelations by Reverend Samuel David Phillips - M. Oldham, photography

Considered one of the most famous self-taught artists of the 20th century, Howard Finster tweaks a conventional portrait piece by turning it into a well-intentioned warning. In his painting Earth Being Watched, otherworldly but seemingly amiable spirits and a single angel peer over and around mountain peaks at three people meaningful, in their own way, to the artist. One of them is Finster’s grandson. The image and the message are a far departure from Revelations’ apprehensive prophesy and show how divergent faith-based art can be in the self-taught realm.

The exhibition dedicated to the Petry collection churns with work that surprises and stimulates; admirably encapsulating the diverse wonder that can be found in this stream of creativity.

In the adjoining room, elegant futuristic whimsy made of tin fill a warmly lit welcoming space. Drawing with Metal: Sculpture by Bill Brady takes self-taught art to a very unexpected place. One full of sleek timeless conjectures of the imagination constructed of light weight metal. Now in his 80’s and still prolific, Brady learned metalworking from his father and went from re-producing the past to designing and making his own creations. Many of them intended to be suspended in the air, his work evokes space, timelessness and perpetual serenity.

Impressions of the City, honoring the work of native Chicagoan Marvin Young, pulses with the energy of a metropolis. Young recreates the cityscape of his youth and the people who inhabit his world. Then he supercharges them with life. Chicago walk-ups are bulked up, are exaggerated and seem to come alive as they lean slightly; as if they’re about to take motion. Cars and taxicabs crossing bridges catch the urgency of rush hour traffic and perfectly mirror its frenetic intensity. Look closely and you’ll notice one of the cars in the string is faced in the wrong direction. In another drawing, a bus has far too many seats. These puzzling touches add a humanizing element to his drawings that gives them new dimension and singes them with curiosity.

Untitled from Impressions of the City,  Marvin Young artist  -  M. Oldham photography

Young’s portraits of people are interesting, even provocative in their candor. One of them quite large, they’re like sketches intended as much to capture some universal inner resolve as they are to interpret a face. Perhaps it’s because his subjects have a certain knowing quality about them. A tolerant and dignified c’est la vie persona that makes them interesting and commanding of respect. Young rarely, perhaps never, provides titles to his works. Each one stands on its own, nameless. Via a video monitor on the exhibition floor, Young explains making this art is a hobby for him. Something that’s always given him inestimable pleasure simply by doing it. A feeling of that’s very similar to joy and gratification this artistic three-fer induces in its visitors.

Life is an Art: The Collection of Jan Petry

April 9, 2026 - March 21, 2027

Impressions of a City: Drawing by Marvin Young

April 9, 2026 – August 23, 2026

Drawing with Metal: Sculpture by Bill Brady

April 9, 2026 - October 4, 2026

Intuit Art Museum

756 N. Milwaukee Ave.

Chicago, IL  60642

For more information:   This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.

Highly Recommended

safronia at Lyric Opera of Chicago emerges as a deeply personal story of the Great Migration - one that resists grandiosity in favor of something more intimate, more lived-in, and ultimately more affecting. Drawn from the family history of Chicago’s inaugural Poet Laureate avery r. young, the work feels less like a conventional opera and more like an embodied poem, carried on breath, rhythm, and memory.

Young himself, as Fiery Baar Booker, gives a performance that is searing. There is fire in his portrayal - a man negotiating identity, displacement, and legacy. Opposite him, Maiesha McQueen’s Magnolia is the emotional anchor of the piece. Her performance radiates warmth and steadiness, embodying the sustaining force of family amid upheaval. She nurtures without sentimentality, giving Magnolia strength.

Lorenzo Rush Jr. brings a charismatic edge to King Willie Tate, a figure caught between aspiration and instability. His chemistry with Meaghan McNeal’s safronia is particularly compelling. McNeal delivers a spiritual performance - her safronia is less a single character than a vessel of generational memory, carrying the emotional weight of those who moved, hoped, and endured.

The company of safronia. Photo by Kyle Flubacher.

The looming presence of white power is sharply rendered through Zachary James as Cholly and Jeff Parker as Bossman. Their performances are unsettling not because they are exaggerated, but because they are so matter-of-fact. The banality of their authority underscores the systemic nature of the oppression the Booker family faces.

The ensemble - Bailey Haynes Champion, Sydney Charles, Miciah Lathan, Eric Andrew Lewis, Renelle Nicole, Jessica Brooke Seals, Maxel McLoud Schingen, and Kendal Marie Wilson - serves as a living chorus, shifting seamlessly between roles while maintaining a unified emotional pulse. They embody community, memory, and migration itself.

Musically, Paul Byssainthe Jr.’s conducting and orchestration weave together spirituals, blues, and textures into a soundscape that feels both rooted and expansive. Under Timothy Douglas’s direction, the production is carefully shaped, allowing stillness and movement to coexist in a way that honors the story’s emotional depth.

Yet for all its power, safronia at the Lyric Opera feels like a work yearning for closer quarters. Its most resonant moments are the quietest ones - the glances, the silences, the shared breath between performers and audience. It is fitting, then, that the production will be remounted at Court Theatre in May 2027. In that more intimate space, safronia may fully realize its potential, allowing audiences not just to witness the story, but to feel it - deeply, personally, and without distance.

This review is proudly shared with our friends at www.TheatreInChicago.com. 

Steppenwolf Theatre Company’s, Windfall arrives with all the promise its pedigree suggests. Written by Academy Award–winning ensemble member Tarell Alvin McCraney and directed by Awoye Timpo, the production aspires to be a pulsing, lyrical meditation on grief, justice, and the uneasy intersection of activism and capitalism. What unfolds instead is a work rich in intention but frustratingly elusive in execution.

The play centers on a protest encampment that erupts into violence, culminating in the shooting of Eli, a member of Never Wrestle Justice - a group of activists unafraid to raise their voices. In the aftermath, Marcus (Glenn Davis), who has transitioned, lingers alongside his aging adoptive father, Mr. Mano (Michael Potts). Mano is left reeling, unable to fully accept the reported death of his child, Eli (Esco Jouléy). It’s a potent premise: a father who refuses to confirm his child’s death, a government eager to offer a financial settlement, and a moral dilemma that questions whether survival can - or should - be measured in dollars. Tarell Alvin McCraney frames the story as a “chosen family” drama, but the emotional foundation never fully coheres.

Marcus urges Mano to identify Eli’s body and accept the settlement, arguing that “blood money is still money.” Yet Mano resists, clinging to the unbearable ambiguity of loss. The arrival of various state representatives - played with dynamic range by Alana Arenas as First Lady, Miss Second, and The Last One - pushes the narrative into increasingly surreal territory. These figures, along with Jon Michael Hill and Namir Smallwood in multiple roles, embody a bureaucratic machine that is at once apologetic, predatory, and opaque.

There are flashes of McCraney’s signature lyricism, particularly in the spectral appearances of Eli. Whether ghost, memory, or manifestation of guilt, Eli’s presence should anchor the play’s emotional core. Instead, it muddies the stakes. When Eli ultimately reappears - alive, defiant, and ready to fight - the revelation feels less like a cathartic turn and more like a narrative sleight of hand that the play hasn’t earned.

This points to the central issue: the characters are too thinly drawn to sustain the weight of the play’s ideas. We see Mano’s grief, Marcus’s urgency to settle, and Eli’s activism, but we rarely feel them. The stakes, which should be life-altering, register as curiously low. Even the moral dilemma - to take the money or resist the system - never fully ignites because the emotional investment isn’t there.

Timpo’s direction leans into the play’s abstraction, emphasizing its communal and ritualistic elements. At times, this works; the staging has a fluidity that suggests a world where reality and memory bleed into one another. But the lack of clarity ultimately undermines the experience. Confusion becomes less a deliberate aesthetic choice and more a barrier to engagement.

There is also the question of place. Though the play is set in Chicago, it rarely feels rooted there. References to Rainbow Beach or Pequod’s Pizza read as surface-level markers rather than lived-in details. For a story so deeply tied to protest, policing, and community, the absence of a tangible sense of Chicago is a missed opportunity.

Still, the performances strive to elevate the material. Arenas is the undeniable standout, bringing vitality and nuance to each of her roles. Whenever she takes the stage, the play briefly finds its pulse. Potts lends dignity to Mano, though the script gives him limited room to build a fully realized arc.

McCraney has proven himself to be a playwright of profound depth and clarity. Windfall gestures toward that brilliance but never quite achieves it. It is a communal experience, yes - but one that leaves you searching for emotional and narrative footing long after the final moment fades.

Somewhat Recommended

When:   Through May 31

Where:  Steppenwolf Theatre, 1650 N. Halsted

Tickets: $20 - $148.50

Box Office: 312-335-1650

www.steppenwolf.org

This review is proudly shared with our friends at www.TheatreInChicago.com. 

Mother-daughter relationships are somehow deemed different.  More seminal than the bond between a father and son. More instinctive than between sisters.  When trust is broken, all bets can certainly be off.  But that doesn’t seem to be the case for Thelma and Jesse, a mom and her daughter who live together in Marsha Norman’s magnificent ‘night Mother, just opening at Redtwist Theatre in Edgewater.  They have a balance and flow that suggests a seasoned understanding.  A harmonic acceptance of their lives together.

Thelma, played so fully by Redtwist ensemble member, Kathy Ruhl, is a pleasing mix of pragmatism and discreet earnestness.  A woman who’s lived a long life, withstood a lot and is making the most of the years in her final season.  Knitting on her well-cushioned sofa, cell phone dangling from her lanyard, TV playing in the background, she’s thinking about how she’s going to satisfy her sugar fix.  And settles on a snowball before contemplating many other options as the evening passes.

Thanks to the prodigious thought and scrupulous detail Bobbie Buie poured into the set design, Thelma’s modest home has the soft glow of easy unpretentious comfort.  Everywhere there are signs that point to a contentment that’s been well earned.  The world she created, along with Harper Justus’s precise and subtle sound design, saturated you in place.

Anne Sheridan Smith in the role of her daughter, Jesse, is much more wired; frenzied in an organized way.  When she shoots out of her bedroom door, she’s clearly a woman on a mission to get a lot of things done.  Quickly.  As she settles down, she’s simply determinedly methodical and impressively so.  There’s some light haggling with her mother.  It seems like something they just occasionally do.  Normal.  Tonight, giving her mother a manicure is high on Jesse’s to do list.  It’s not long before they settle down at the kitchen table and normal goes away.  

A small cloud of foreboding drifted in when Jesse began looking for some things in their makeshift attic. One of them is a gun. When her mother keeps pressing her on why she wants or needs one, she forces her daughter’s hand. Jesse declares to her mother, not coldly but matter-of-factly, that tonight she’s going to use it to kill herself.

It’s the kind of statement that instantly triggers incredulity.  And automatically, by reflex, Thelma’s “mom” response zooms past tilt.  Even though she may not initially believe Jesse, she hears her.   And intuitively she wants to fix it as she struggles to even comprehend the magnitude of what she’s been told.   ‘night Mother soon becomes a push and pull with Jesse always exhibiting the greater strength against a formidable opponent.  She has the inner conviction to see this grim task through.  You can sense that when she first told her mother what she was going to do. Like her mother, we too want to know why.

A dissection of one person’s why is what this intricate and intimate story is all about.  And the way Smith inhabits her character, she functions as an outstandingly plausible stand-in for many of us.   People who not only have had enough but also look at themselves and don’t see enough. 

Her mother doesn’t really understand. Not at first.  It’s as the tandem airing of their lives that reveals how it’s come to this. 

Well into this gripping one act performance, wonderfully directed by Redtwist’s Artistic Director, Dusty Brown, Thelma describes herself as a “plain country woman”.  Life for her is something you just did.  It’s the kind of existence where naivete and ignorance may thrive in abundance, but neither carries an especially detrimental cost.  When it came to Jesse’s early childhood rearing of Jesse though, perhaps it did. Thelma and her husband discovered late in their daughter’s development that the fits she experienced as a child were epileptic.   Undiagnosed and untreated for far too long, Jesse internalized them as manifestations of a personal flaw.  A flaw that inevitably, in her mind, produced terrible consequences.

She never directly states it, but it’s clear she blames herself for the way her son, Ricky, is turning out.  A thief, drugs, regularly in run-ins with the police.  Thelma says it’s just a phase.  He’ll grow out if it and be a “fine young man”.  But through a haze that’s draped in quiet anguish, Jesse senses otherwise.  It’s the same with her ex-husband. In Cecil’s case, he was there and then he was gone.  The man her mother found for her, who she came to love and who chose not to stay.

They’re all hard blows.  Jesse has weathered them.  Now it sounds like she’s tired.  Sick of it all.  Living with her mother.  Lonely present.  Lonely future.  She’s felt this way for so long that she’s used the last 10 years to plan for this night.    She’s gotten it so fine-tuned, she can give her mother detailed instructions on who to call when after the deed is done, and why.

For this compassionate plunge into the unthinkable, Marsha Norman won the Pulitzer Prize for drama in 1983.  A native of Kentucky, you can hear a faint sound of the south in the way Thelma and Jesse talk to one another.  The weight of the subject matter, the care in which these two women are drawn and portrayed, the way every argument Thelma raises against this tragic decision is rebuffed by unswayable conviction, keeps you rapt.  A sliver of life captured beautifully and unforgettably on the stage.

‘night Mother

Through May 24, 2026

Redtwist Theatre

1044 W. Bryn Mawr Ave.

Chicago, IL    60660

For tickets and more information:  https://www.redtwisttheatre.org

Highly Recommended

This review is proudly shared with our friends at www.TheatreInChicago.com. 

Everyone encounters many crossroads in their lives, where they make a choice that determines the future…and many people live to regret it. That is where Dawn, the protagonist of Out Here, the new musical receiving its premiere at Court Theatre finds herself. Unlike most people, however, her realization does not come in a quiet moment of reflection, but just as she and her husband, Brian, and 15-year-old daughter, Cleo, have discovered that they have a band and an audience. It’s a lot, and the extremely metatheatrical musical reflects the chaos well. While there are drawbacks to the format, including the impossibility of fully developing most of the characters, the one-act musical by Leslie Buxbaum (book and lyrics) and Erin McKeown (music and lyrics), based on a concept by Buxbaum, McKeown and David J. Levin, is an entertaining and often moving reflection on personal choices and the people they affect.

Breaking the fourth wall is a hallmark of musical theater, and metatheatrical reflections on the musical being performed are also not uncommon these days, but Out Here takes these conceits to a new level. And that, arguably, is what makes it work so well. The characters must learn how to respond to the fact that they are living their lives in a musical as they navigate the changes in their family structure. The musical form proves to be a convenient way to condense the journey into an evening for the benefit of the audience that comes with it. It also provides a metaphor for the families’ (there are several) journeys from fumbling with new relationships and legal and geographic uncertainty to settling into the rhythms of new lives. The music reflects the jarring awkwardness of both the unexpected performance and the fallout of Dawn’s announcement that her “here” is no longer where she wants to be. As they get more comfortable with both performance and marital differences, the characters begin to exploit their access to a band—and apparently new-found guitar skills—to sing their own songs and share their emotions with each other and the audience. Buxbaum and McKeown toy with breaking the rules of musical theater, allowing characters to exit to the green room and the lobby and to directly address the band and audience. When a mediator is needed, he enters from the band and introduces potential shared custody options in song—a song that that Cleo recognizes from a friend’s experience (and wonders if she could get a puppy, too). Director Chay Yew wisely trusts the material and allows characters and audience to just keep up—no unnecessary scene changes or projections indicating changes in setting—making for a fast-paced exploration of relationships, time, and what’s important in a life. It’s occasionally messy or unfulfilled, but always compelling.

Photo of Alex Goodrich, Ellie Duffey, and Becca Ayers in Out Here at Court Theatre. Phot by Michael Brosilow.

Despite all the metatheatrical machinations, Out Here has an easy-to-follow plot and a singular protagonist. This is Dawn’s story, and the character uses this to her advantage, controlling both the narrative and the other characters as much as possible—though neither musicals nor reality allow for time travel, not that Dawn doesn’t try. While passionately pursuing the life that she wants (and simultaneously trying to figure out what that means), Dawn could quickly become grating, as she seems to be surrounded by good options and supportive friends and family, plus a band. Fortunately, Becca Ayers brings lightness and self-awareness to the role, as well as the ability to belt out power ballads and harmonize with her partners in multiple musical genres. Cliff Chamberlain as Brian plays to his strengths as a mostly non-musical actor—and his voice works well for the folksy guitar serenades that Brian chooses as his musical medium. He is charming and initially almost overly forbearing but grows stronger as he realizes that he has been given an opportunity that he is not willing to give up. As their daughter, Cleo, Ellie Duffey is charismatic and complicated, thrilled to have an audience, wanting to support her parents, but irritated that she is being left out of the decision-making. When she finally gets a song, it’s a propulsive punk declaration that is a necessary release. Bethany Thomas as Robin, Dawn’s ex-girlfriend who reluctantly reenters Dawn’s life, is uncompromising and vulnerable, wanting to rekindle their relationship, but justifiably apprehensive, and her dynamic voice is perfect to convey both her character’s surety about what she needs, and her fear that she might be disappointed again. Thomas’s comic timing also complements Robin’s sarcasm.

Alex Goodrich brings charm and flair to the most musical-theater role of the musical, Martin—he’s in the band! He’s the mediator! He’s the BFF! He can be anything you want him to be, keep the tempo and find the right accompaniment. Though not personally invested, his empathetic performance ingratiates him to both the family and the audience. Also, part of the familial rebuild are Gina, the woman Brian begins dating and Jett, Robin’s grown child. They, too, get swept up in the musical, but they do not have their own songs (maybe if there were a second act?), though they manage to hold their own in the musical/slash family drama they have entered. Amanda Pulcini brings a grounded humor and composure to the most awkward of situations Gina finds herself in. The fact that Jett’s entrance is often introduced with the ominous phrase “the plot thickens” is ironic, since Jett, as played by Z Mowry, is amiable and understanding, someone who seems like a good person to have as a friend, and usually offers sound advice that helps the plot along.

The musical and the cast get top-notch support from the designers and musicians. Co-orchestrator (with Erin McKeown), conductor, and keyboard player Christie Chiles Twillie backs up the vocals and underscores the book perfectly, keeping the tempos tight and the volume attuned to the singers and the script. Breon Arzell’s movement adds controlled chaos, matching the verbal humor and tension with apt but unintrusive movement. Scenic Designers Andrew Boyce and Lauren M. Nichols have created a musical-scale proscenium out of roof beams that mirror the moods of the home’s inhabitants, with a large but cozy interior and expansive outside. Sound designer Lee Fiskness integrates sound effects with the music to mesh the sounds of home with the beats of the band. The musicians make it seem possible to suddenly have a life become a musical, moving easily between styles, “acting” in response to the cast and swelling instrumental lines for onstage instruments.

Whether one likes Out Here will probably depend on one’s tolerance for stories of privileged people choosing between multiple good options surrounded by understanding friends and family. However, there is no denying that using a DIY musical to represent the struggles of a family trying to deal with change is a resonant metaphor, and the music captures some common challenges in fresh and thought-provoking ways. The book by Leslie Buxbaum explores the joy and tension of familial and other relationships with compassion and a great deal of humor. Erin McKeown’s music (with lyrics by Buxbaum and McKeown) allows the audience to get to know the characters and share moments from years of their lives in around 90 minutes (the magic of “theater time”). Chay Yew’s production is fast-paced, uncluttered, funny, moving, and thoughtful. Though Out Here wisely avoids trying to tie up all loose ends, it leaves the audience with a lot of good questions to ponder.

Out Here runs through May 10 at Court Theatre, Wed/Thurs/Fri at 7:30pm, Sat/Sun at 2:00pm & 7:30pm.

This review is proudly shared with our friends at www.TheatreInChicago.com.