Items filtered by date: June 2026

The true story behind Lauren Gunderson’s “The Book of Will” is compelling—the efforts of actors John Heminges (Jared Dennis) and Henry Condell (Ben Veatch), Shakespeare’s colleagues—to compile and publish a definitive collection of the Bard's works in the years soon after his death in 1616. This they did over the course of four years until it arrived in 1623, and Gunderson uses a comedic form to render the story and characters involved in the effort. 

Comedy keeps the story energized, staving off the dreariness of what might have been a docudrama. And the Promethean Theatre Ensemble cast directed by Beth Wolf delivers top notch performances. Brendan Hutt in the role of Richard Burbage, the actor who originated many of Shakespeare’s most famous roles, gives real Shakespearean heft to his performance. Hutt also plays William Jaggard, a publisher who produces the definitive First Folio (several after producing a less accurate version) with 36 of Shakespeare’s plays, 18 of them published for the first time. These included "The Tempest," "The Taming of the Shrew," "Macbeth" and "Julius Caesar," an unimaginable tragedy had these been lost.

Gunderson’s script opens with Heminges and Condell (and the audience) witnessing a performance of “Hamlet” so badly rendered as to lose the playwright’s intent. We see “To Be or Not To Be,” Hamlet’s famous soliloquy  (delivered by Jesús Barajas playing beautifully, stunningly wrong), the delivery even more butchered due to a distorted script, perhaps recorded from another actor’s faltering memory. It’s like watching as someone belts out a song all off key.

Galvanized by this horror, the two determined they would gather up all the most original copies of Shakespeare’s masterpieces and publish them in a book, before they were lost. Some of Shakespeare’s works were published while he was alive, but others were relegated to the haphazard storage of working theaters, marked up scripts found at playhouses even today. 

Jonathan Perkins

All this is factually true, as is so much of the play. That Gunderson often leans toward almost jarring contemporary vernacular and a comedic approach may make us question whether this can all be the real story, but indeed it is, in details large and small. Most of the cast performed multiple roles, for example Jonathan Perkins in the role of a compositor at the printer and three other characters. Perkins was arresting in the quality of his performance.

“Book of Will,” to my mind, is a flawed thing. While Gunderson has the greatest intention in celebrating Shakespeare, there is very little of his work delivered. The play is based on the reasonable presumption that the audience loves Shakespeare—who else would be drawn to the heroic tale of the publication of his works? But it doesn’t present enough of it to remind us why, to stir our emotions for a moment with the real art of the celebrated subject.

Brendan Hutt convincingly offers some solid Shakespearean delivery in the role of Richard Burbage, the actor who originated many of the playwright’s most famous roles, delivers promising and skillful recitations of bits of Shakespeare. But the snippets offered us by Gunderson are too brief, and not gripping. Even worse are a couple scenes where “quotable quotes” from Shakespeare are offered, sometimes in multiple languages to reinforce his universality—but it comes off as an artfully executed but nonetheless bad “tribute” to the playwright. 

One lost opportunity arises after Heminges’ wife Rebecca (Ann Sheridan Smith in an exceptional performance) passes away (I didn’t see that coming) at the beginning of Act II. Rebecca has been his rock during the four year effort to secure rights and overcome financial hurdles to publish the plays. Inconsolable, Heminges seeks solace in the theater, spending sleepless nights there reciting monologs from Shakespeare’s plays, he tells us. Could not the playwright have let Heminges deliver us even one of these, an apt monologue voiced with the passion of his grief?

In short, this is a play about people who love Shakespeare, but he isn’t tapped for what he might bring to the party. I thought James Lewis turned in a remarkable performance as Ben Johnson, Shakespeare’s rival and critic, who wrote a dedicatory poem for the First Folio. Lewis gave me the one moment I felt touched at the level of emotion that Shakespeare evokes in his works. This comes as the begrudging Ben Johnson delivers the opening lines of his dedicatory poem for the First Folio. 

Nevertheless, “The Book of Will” tells an important story of the epic accomplishment of two devotees of Shakespeare, and one well worth hearing and seeing. Even as the web lulls us into believing that all knowledge and information is permanently and universally accessible, in fact we are seeing in present days the disappearance of content  the “Book of Will” reminds us anew of the evanescence and fragility of the written word, and the commitment required to maintain and preserve it. "The Book of Will" runs through October 25, 2025 at The Den Theatre on Milwaukee Ave. in Chicago. 

Rajiv Joseph’s Mr. Wolf is a striking departure from the warmth and humor of his recent King James. Where King James used the comfort of sports as a language of friendship, Mr. Wolf asks us to sit inside the fragile, fractured space of trauma. In Steppenwolf’s intimate production, ensemble member K. Todd Freeman directs with an unflinching precision that refuses to soften the material. His approach creates a space where silence weighs as heavily as dialogue, where each pause presses the audience closer to the raw pulse of grief, survival, and uneasy healing. This is a small play set against a very large world, and its intimacy makes it resonant.

The play centers on Theresa (Emilie Maureen Hanson), a teenager recently rescued after twelve years of captivity. Her abductor, Mr. Wolf (Tim Hopper), is not only a predator but also an astronomy professor who reshaped her entire worldview with cosmic metaphors, rigid theories, and apocalyptic visions. For Theresa, the cosmos—and Mr. Wolf—are inseparable. He does not see the stars as sources of wonder but as proof of his twisted logic.

Mr. Wolf bends the language of science into a doctrine of control. Whereas most scientists keep religion and science in separate spheres, he blurs that boundary, turning the vastness of the universe into a kind of scripture. He declares Theresa a prophetess of the cosmos, teaching her to view the stars not through physics and wonder but through his rigid, apocalyptic framework. Hopper embodies this chilling certainty with unnerving precision, a man who once lectured on the heavens but now orbits entirely within his own delusions.

Now reunited with her parents—Hana (Kate Arrington) and Michael (Namir Smallwood)—Theresa must navigate a world that feels as alien as the galaxies she once studied under his command. Julie (Caroline Neff), Michael’s new wife, hovers between empathy and helplessness, unsure how to reach someone marked by unspeakable experience while quietly grappling with her own grief.

The acting is superb across the board. Hanson captures Theresa’s uneasy balance of fragility and resilience. Arrington and Smallwood embody grief in contrasting shades—Arrington’s sharp-edged regret against Smallwood’s wounded stoicism—while Neff supplies a warmth the others cannot. Hopper, disturbingly calm as Mr. Wolf, delivers control with the cool precision of a man who has transformed astronomy into a theology of delusion.

The design team amplifies this unsettling intimacy. Walt Spangler’s set suggests a world we recognize—rooms, walls, familiar structures—that have splintered into pieces. Watching the play, we feel as though we are tasked with reassembling it, just as the characters try to piece together their broken lives. Dede Ayite’s costumes root the play in ordinariness, and Josh Schmidt’s sound and original music create an undercurrent of wonder. Rasean Davonté Johnson’s projections echo the celestial images that once defined Theresa’s captivity, lingering like ghosts of her indoctrination.

Freeman’s direction sharpens the play’s unease into something inescapable. Rather than offering distance, he compels the audience to witness the jagged rhythms of survival. Where King James thrived on joy and connection, Mr. Wolf strips us down to silence and difficult truths. It is a play less about resolution than endurance, and in Steppenwolf’s hands, it becomes a stark reminder of how trauma ripples outward—and how putting the pieces back together is never simple, but always necessary.

RECOMMENDED

When: Through Nov. 2nd

Where: Steppenwolf Theatre, 1650 N. Halsted St.

Running Time: 90 minutes

Tickets: $20 - $133.50

312-355-1650

www.steppenwolf.org

*This review is also shared on https://www.theatreinchicago.com/!  

Court Theatre has opened its 2025/26 season with a thunderclap: Theodore Ward’s Big White Fog directed with remarkable sensitivity and vigor by Resident Artist Ron OJ Parson. This is not only a revival of a classic work from the Federal Theatre Project era—it is also a reminder of how eerily contemporary Ward’s questions of ideology, disillusionment, and power struggles remain nearly ninety years after the play first startled audiences at Chicago’s Great Northern Theatre in 1938.

At its center, Big White Fog dramatizes the life of the Mason family, a striving Black household in Depression-era Chicago. Ward places the Mason living room at the intersection of history’s most turbulent crosscurrents: the false promise of the American Dream, the fiery appeal of Marcus Garvey’s “back to Africa” movement, and the revolutionary fervor of Communism. The fog of the title is both literal and metaphorical—a veil of economic despair, racial injustice, and ideological confusion that threatens to swallow the family whole.

Ron OJ Parson, long admired for his deft handling of Black classics, stages the play with clarity and urgency. Parson respects the density of Ward’s text but never lets the ideological debates bog down the human drama. Instead, he finds the beating heart in the Mason family’s conflicts—the stubborn pride of the patriarch, the sacrifices of the women, the fragile dreams of their children. Parson’s direction makes clear this is not an artifact of theatre history; it is a living work, pulsating with relevance for an America once again convulsed by inequality, polarization, and disillusionment.

The cast assembled for this production is outstanding. Joshua L. Green brings charisma and conviction to Victor Mason, the father whose fierce commitment to Garveyism and economic uplift sets him on a collision course with his family. Green embodies Victor’s unbending pride, making his devotion to a nationalist vision both inspiring and tragic. As Ella Mason, Sharriese Hamilton gives the play its moral core: her performance glows with quiet dignity, balancing love for her family with the weary pragmatism of a woman trying to hold a household together as history presses in from all sides.

Patrick Newson Jr. is superb as Lester Mason, the eldest son, a man who has had to stifle his own dreams, his every ambition weighed down by the crushing realities of family duty and economic hardship. Newson brings a heartbreaking openness to the role, embodying the innocence crushed under the weight of adult failures and historical forces. Greta Oglesby, as matriarch Martha Brooks, is simply unforgettable. Oglesby’s performance is steeped in humor, wisdom, and resilience; she grounds the play in generational memory. Her presence on stage is nothing short of magnetic.

The production’s design team gives Big White Fog a visual richness that matches its thematic weight. Jack Magaw’s scenic design transforms the Court stage into a lived-in Mason household, layered with details that evoke aspiration. Yvonne L. Miranda’s eye-popping 1920s costumes dazzle while grounding each character in their social and ideological context, making the clash of visions as visible as it is spoken. Lee Keenan’s lighting design shifts the mood with precision. Adding another layer of atmosphere, Christopher Kriz’s original compositions during scene changes, underscores the emotional undercurrents of the play and keeps the audience tethered to its restless rhythm.

The ideological clash within the Mason household is the play’s dramatic engine. Victor’s belief in Garvey’s call for Black economic independence and a return to Africa is met with resistance from his family, who seek other paths—through Communism, through assimilation, or through personal ambition. Ward refuses to let any single vision emerge as the sole solution, instead dramatizing the painful divisions that ideological fervor can create within a family. In the end, no ideology rescues them from the crushing realities of poverty, racism, and systemic neglect. This tragic irony is what makes Big White Fog so haunting.

Ward’s writing is radical for its time. To depict a Black family grappling openly with competing ideologies and the hypocrisy of the American Dream in 1938 was nothing short of revolutionary. It’s no wonder Big White Fog had a fraught reception in its original run. Yet the very qualities that unsettled audiences then—its candor, its ideological clashes, its refusal to reduce Black life to stereotype—are what make it feel so piercingly contemporary now.

The play’s questions echo loudly: What system, if any, can deliver justice and dignity to Black Americans? What price must be paid for loyalty to one’s ideals? And can a family survive when its members are torn apart by competing visions of liberation? In today’s America, as the nation debates racial justice, economic inequity, and the limits of free speech, these questions resonate with uncanny force. The Mason family’s divisions mirror our own: parents and children, neighbors and colleagues, citizens and leaders locked in ideological combat while the fog of inequality thickens around us.

Theodore Ward dared to write the truth. At a time when most mainstream depictions of Black life trafficked in stereotype or sentimental uplift (think “Cabin in The Sky”), Ward insisted on portraying the complexity, dignity, and contradictions of ordinary people. His plays carved out space for honest exploration of the Black experience—politically charged, socially grounded, unflinchingly real. Ward’s commitment cost him: his leftist sympathies drew the scrutiny of the FBI, and he was effectively blacklisted during the McCarthy era. Yet his legacy endures, shaping the lineage of Black theatre from Lorraine Hansberry to August Wilson and beyond.

Court Theatre’s revival is more than an act of cultural memory. It is an act of cultural urgency. To stage Big White Fog now is to recognize that the struggles Ward captured in 1938—the tensions between faith and politics, survival and principle, hope and despair—are still the struggles being faced in 2025. Parson and his cast honor Ward’s achievement while challenging us to confront the fog we still inhabit.

In the end, the play offers no easy answers. Ward was too honest for that. But what he gives us—through his words and through this luminous production—is the reminder that theatre can be a forum for grappling with the hardest questions of human existence. Big White Fog demands that we listen, that we argue, that we reckon with the past and the present alike.

Court Theatre has given Chicago audiences a gift in reviving Theodore Ward’s masterpiece. And with Parson’s masterful direction and this ensemble’s unforgettable performances, the fog clears just enough for us to see the truth: Ward’s voice still matters, perhaps now more than ever.

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

When: Through Oct 11th

Where: Court Theatre, 5535 S. Ellis Ave.

Running !me: 2 hours, 15 minutes  - 15 minute intermission

Tickets: $27 - $94 Student, Group and military discounts available

773-753-4472

https://www.courttheatre.org

*This review is also shared on https://www.theatreinchicago.com/!  

Music Theater Works is proud to announce the cast and creative team for the third production of its 2025 season, Godspell, sponsored by the Whirled Peas Foundation and presented in partnership with Curt’s Café, in the North Theatre at the North Shore Center for the Performing Arts in Skokie, 9501 Skokie Blvd, Skokie, October 23 - November 16. Godspell, with music and lyrics by Stephen Schwartz and book by John Michael Tebelak, is directed by Matthew Silar, choreographed by Amanda Hope and music directed by Justin Kono. The production includes a preview performance Thursday, Oct. 23 at 7:30 p.m. with a press opening Friday, Oct. 24 at 7 p.m. The schedule is Wednesdays at 2 p.m., Fridays at 7:30 p.m., Saturdays at 7:30 p.m., Sundays at 2 p.m., with additional performances on Saturdays, Nov. 1, Nov. 8 and Nov. 15 at 2 p.m. Tickets are now on sale from $19.50 to $106 with tickets for guests 25 years old and younger available at half-price at MusicTheaterWorks.com or by calling the Music Theater Works box office at the North Shore Center, 847.673.6300. Group discounts are also available for groups of 10 or more by contacting 847.920.5360.

Day by day for more than 50 years, audiences have delighted in this modern musical fable. Godspell  weaves together music, improv and infectious pop and rock songs including the hits “Day by Day,” “Prepare Ye the Way of the Lord,” “O Bless the Lord My Soul” and more. This Godspell finds a fractured and disconnected community gathered at a local coffee shop discovering the transformative power of forgiveness and embracing radical love. 

The cast of Godspell includes, in alphabetical order: P-Jay Adams (she/they, ensemble/U/S); Brandon Acosta (he/him, ensemble/U/S); Diana Marilyn Alvarez (she/they, swing); Maxwell J DeTogne (he/him, Maxwell, U/S Jesus); Tafadzwa Diener (Tafadzwa, she/her); Kaitlin Feely (Kaitlin, she/her); Emily Holland (she/her, ensemble/U/S); Nicholas Ian (Nicholas, any); Jenna Makkawy (she/they, ensemble/U/S); Dani Pike (Dani, she/her); Connor Ripperger (Connor, he/they); Concetta Russo (Concetta, she/her); Jacob Simon (he/they, John the Baptist/Judas); Ethan Smith (he/him, ensemble/U/S John the Baptist/Judas); Eldon Warner-Soriano (he/him, Jesus); Ben Woods (Ben, he/him) and Alex Villaseñor (swing, he/him).

Godspell’s orchestra includes Justin Kono (he/him, conductor/drums); Linda Madonia (she/her, piano); Kyle Paul (he/him, guitars) and Marcel Bonfirm (he/him, bass).

Godspell’s creative team is Matthew Silar (he/him, director); Amanda Hope (she/her, choreographer); Justin Kono (he/him, music director); Becca Holloway (she/her, asst. director); Amber Wuttke (she/her, intimacy & violence choreographer); Kathy Logelin (she/her, dialect coach); Blue Darner Dupuis (they/them, stage manager); Carolyn Goldsmith (she/her, asst. stage manager); Bob Knuth (he/him, scenic designer); Nga Sze Chan (she/her, props designer); Kristen Brinati (she/her, costume designer/wardrobe crew); Melanie Saso (she/her, hair, wig, makeup designer); Levi J. Wilkins (he/him, lighting designer); Chelsea Lynn (she/her, board programmer); Forrest Gregor (he/him, sound designer); Mitchell Finger (technical director); Will Hughes (he/him, Andersonville Scenic Studios) and Ben Lipinski (any, Andersonville Scenic Studios).

“Behind the Curtain with Thomas M. Shea”

Immediately following the Sunday, Oct. 26 and Nov. 2 matinees, audiences may join musical theater historian Thomas M. Shea, author of “Broadway’s Most Wanted,” for a post-show talk exploring the behind-the-scenes history of Godspell.

Binny’s Broadway Lounge

Music Theater Works’ Donors of any level and subscribers are welcome to access Binny’s Broadway Lounge before the performance and at intermission of Godspell. Binny’s Broadway Lounge, sponsored by Binny’s Beverage Depot, is located on the second floor at the North Shore Center for the Performing Arts in Skokie and offers complimentary drinks and snacks and does not require reservations. The Lounge is available during Godspell, Wednesday, Oct. 29 (opens at 1 p.m.) and Saturday, Nov. 1 (opens at 6:30 p.m.).  

ASL Interpreted Performance

The Saturday, Nov. 8 at 7:30 p.m. performance will be ASL interpreted.

Curt’s Café Day at Godspell

At the Sunday, Nov. 9 at 2 p.m. performance of Godspell, Music Theater Works will celebrate Curt’s Café and its mission including hosting representatives of Curt’s Café to discuss Curt’s impact has had on youth for more than a decade at a discussion immediately following the matinee. 

ABOUT MATTHEW SILAR, DIRECTOR

Matthew Silar is a Chicago-based director, stage manager and acting coach. Recent Chicago directing credits include Citadel Theatre’s productions of She Loves Me (Jeff Nomination) and Little Shop Of Horrors, as well as Daddy Long Legs (Awaken Theatre). Other directing credits include Annie, The Spongebob Musical and Matilda The Musical (Firehouse Theatre), Kate Fodor’s 100 Saints You Should Know, Lee Blessing’s Two Rooms (Acu) and a slew of educational productions. He’s worked across Chicagoland and the country as an AEA stage manager including Paramount Theatre, Marriott Theatre, Skylight Music Theatre, The Rev Theatre Company, and more. He holds a BFA in theatre directing from Abilene Christian University and is a proud associate member of the Stage Directors and Choreographers Society. 

ABOUT JUSTIN KONO, MUSIC DIRECTOR

Justin Kono is a drummer, percussionist, pianist, arranger, orchestrator and conductor of uncommon range. Recent Music Theater Works credits include Little Shop of Horrors, Legally Blonde: the Musical and Shrek (drums and electronic music design) and Pippin (music direction, conductor, drums and electronic music design). Other recent credits include the Chicago company of Titanique (drums and electronic music design) by Porchlight Music Theatre and Rock of Ages and Jersey Boys with Mercury Theater (drums, electronic music design). Kono has also played at Drury Lane Oakbrook, many Porchlight Music Theatre shows and events, Teatro ZinZanni and the Marriott Theater, where he will be the local cover for the role of “Fluke” in Million Dollar Quartet Christmas this coming holiday season. In addition to theater activities, he is a music director and accompanist at First Congregational Church in Downers Grove and the handbell choir director at First United Methodist Church of Downers Grove. 

Music Theater Works 2025 Season

The 45th season concludes with Annie, December 18, 2025 - January 4, 2026. For more information on the 45th season go to MusicTheaterWorks.com. 

Music Theater Works 2026 Season

The 46th season opens with CATS, March 5 - 29, 2026 and is followed by West Side Story, August 3 - 30, 2026. The season will continue with Jimmy Buffet’s Escape to Margaritaville, October 8 - November 1, 2026 and concludes with Hairspray, December 17, 2026 - January 3, 2027. Current members may renew for the 2026 season now with new memberships available beginning Wednesday, Oct. 1 at 12 p.m. and single tickets for all the 2026 productions will go on sale Wednesday, Jan. 14, 2026 at 12 p.m. For more information on the 46th season go to MusicTheaterWorks.com. 

ABOUT CURT’S CAFÉ

Curt’s Café is a 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization that offers workforce training, life skills and supportive resources to young adults (ages 15 – 24) who are experiencing or are at risk of homelessness, involvement with the justice system or other challenges. Curt’s Cafe has two fully operating cafés, offering a variety of breakfast, lunch, coffee drinks and catering services located in Highland Park and Evanston to serve both Lake County and Cook County.

Curt’s was established in 2012 and has served over 650 students since opening. The students are creating better futures—and community support drives that change. To learn more about Curt’s Café, please visit CurtsCafe.org or follow them on social @curtscafe.

ABOUT MUSIC THEATER WORKS

Music Theater Works is a resident professional not-for-profit music theater founded in

1980. During its 45-year history it has presented more than 150 productions and intimate presentations. Music Theater Works is a professional theater company whose mission is to present works for the musical stage including historic repertoire, revitalizing the Golden Age of Broadway and earlier works, celebrating the Great American Songbook and introducing modern classics. 

The Godspell production sponsor is Whirled Peas Foundation.

Music Theater Works presents

Godspell

October 23 - November 16

North Theatre

North Shore Center For The Performing Arts In Skokie

9501 Skokie Blvd.

Skokie, IL 60077

Music and Lyrics by Stephen Schwartz

Book by John Michael Tebelak

Directed by Matthew Silar

Choreographed by Amanda Hope

Music Directed by Justin Kono

Show dates and times:

Thursday, Oct.  23 – 7:30 p.m. – Preview

Friday, Oct. 24 – 7 p.m. – Press Performance

Saturday, Oct.  25 – 7:30 p.m.

Sunday, Oct.  26 – 2 p.m. – Talk Back with Thomas M. Shea

Wednesday, Oct.  29 – 2 p.m. – Binny’s Broadway Lounge (opens at 1 p.m.)

Friday, Oct.  31 – 7:30 p.m.

Saturday, Nov. 1 – 2 p.m. 

Saturday, Nov. 1 – 7:30 p.m. – Binny’s Broadway Lounge (opens at 6:30 p.m.)

Sunday, Nov. 2 – 2: p.m. – Talk Back with Thomas M. Shea

Wednesday, Nov. 5 – 2 p.m.

Friday, Nov. 7 – 7:30 p.m.

Saturday, Nov. 8 – 2 p.m.

Saturday, Nov. 8 – 7:30 p.m. – ASL Interpreted performance

Sunday, Nov. 9 – 2 p.m. - Curt’s Café Day

Wednesday, Nov. 12 – 2 p.m.

Friday, Nov. 14 – 7:30 p.m.

Saturday, Nov. 15 – 2 and 7:30 p.m.

Sunday, Nov. 16 – 2 p.m.

Tickets: $19.50 to $106, tickets for guests 25 years old and younger are available for half- price.

Music Theater Works Box Office: (847) 673-6300

Website: MusicTheaterWorks.com

Total Running Time, including intermission, (currently): Two hours and 10 minutes

“We see what we choose to see… And yet, one of the first questions we have to ask ourselves as reasoning beings when it comes to the question of ‘truth’ is… What can we see? What did people witness? What do they remember?”

Director Tristan Brandon kicks off his director’s note with the above. What is true, and how do we know? So often we see what we want to see, and when we do not understand something, we fill in the blanks with that which makes it familiar.

The story of Erzsébet Báthory (Laura Jones-Macknin) is a fascinating one – one that many likely do not know. I certainly knew little before attending Idle Muse’s world premiere. Having recently lost her husband, Báthory, as a woman, is left with few options.  Her son, Pál Nádasdy (Xavier Lagunas) certainly does not have any interest in being Count. He would prefer to travel and do his part fighting in the impending war – much to his mother’s dismay. Báthory is stuck alone managing a castle in the 1600s – a time where women were certainly not trusted to lead anything without a man. And so, we return to Brandon’s quote:

“We see what we choose to see.”

As Báthory struggles to maintain a staff and keep everything afloat, the surrounding towns resort to gossip. A woman simply cannot manage anything without a man, and therefore, there must be a dark reason. If maids and never come out, what other possible solution is there but murder? Rumors of murder can so easily transform and grow. Suddenly Báthory is the Blood Countess. She clearly must be drinking the blood of her staff to stay young and in power. A countess who just wants her son to come home slowly becomes a monster that everyone fears – and surrounding rulers feel the need to take down.

It is in this mystery that Playwright Michael Dalberg found his play, and from there, a story of blood, murder, and even a little magic thrown into the mix. Out of a desire to stay alive until her son can come home, Báthory begins to drink the blood of her staff. If they never leave the castle, how is anyone to know? With immortal beauty and youth, she can keep everything afloat until the Count returns. However, not everyone is willing to allow a woman to maintain her power – particularly with all the rumors regarding how she is managing to do so. The question is, can she manage to keep up the facade until she is reunited with her son? More than that, will she manage not to lose herself in the process?

Brandon’s artistic team transforms the black box space – creatively drawing the audience into the dark horror. Lighting Designer Laura J. Wiley and Sound Designer L.J. Luthringer collaborate to heighten the dramatic tension in their designs. The space lives in a constant darkness – with undertones of red thrown into the mix that foreshadow the blood to come. Luthringer creates a heartbeat for the play that quickens with tension – particularly as Báthory’s choices become increasingly more villainous. With the intimacy that Scenic Designer Jeremiah Barr invites, you might find it hard not to lean in and feel the nervousness alongside the characters surrounding Báthory.

Living within this world is a cast of strong ensemble members. Jones-Macknin at the helm does not disappoint as Báthory. She strikes a balance, allowing the audience to feel for her long lines while at the same time fearing what she might do next.

With striking design and a talented ensemble, The Blood Countess brings a hidden history to light. If you are one who hungers for spooky stories as we shift into the fall season, Idle Muse might have one just for you.

*This review is also shared on https://www.theatreinchicago.com/!  

The Blood Countess runs through October 11 at The Edge Theatre Off Broadway. For tickets and information, see the Idle Muse Theatre Company website.

Recommended

If you are familiar with the Marx Brother 1933 film “Duck Soup,” it is probably from clips of some of the timeless schtik delivered by the erudite punster Groucho, the womanizing “Italian” Chico, the mute Harpo and the straight man in the bunch, handsome brother Zeppo.

So when I first heard The Conspirators was going to adapt this seemingly light-hearted confection to its stage at Stars & Garters (formerly Otherworld Theater), it didn’t sound like a fit—not based on their more hard-hitting satires of the past. Were they retreating from a world grown too contentious? But having read up on it, then viewed the film recently—which as a whole remains laughworthy—I learned that “Duck Soup” delivers serious social commentary, a send-up of fascism and authoritarianism—so topical in its day, and today for that matter. And so it does indeed fit right into The Conspirators’ sweet spot.

The Clark Street troupe’s stock in trade is theater that perceptive audiences willing to scratch through the surface will find speaks bitingly of the times. The pill is made easier to swallow because it’s delivered in a unique farcical performance mode, known as The Style (more on that later). It has you laughing at its silliness even as the baleful messages hit home. That makes “Duck Soup” perfect grist for the script mill of Sid Feldman, founder of The Conspirators with director Wm. Bullion. Both are in the final phases of casting and adapting the film for an October 30 opening.

Past productions are a good indicator of where The Conspirators take aim. Shows are often hung loosely on the bones of works by 20th century modernist playwrights. Dario Fo’s “Accidental Death of an Anarchist” became the 2019 “Accidental Death of a Black Motorist.” Brecht’s “The Resistable Rise of Arturo Ui” (1941) is hinted at by the similarly named “The Resistible Rise of Herr Helmut Drumpf” (2016). Its follow up, “The Deckchairs,” finds an iceberg denier elected captain of an already sinking ship (subtitle: “Make the Titanic Great Again.”) And then there was the latest production, adapting Macbeth from William Shakespeare to Chicago vernacular for “Chicago Cop Macbeth.” 

A circle of hell in “Commedia Divina: It’s Worse Than That”

Other works include “Commedia Divina: It’s Worse Than That,” a riff on "Dante’s Divine Comedy," or the 19th century “The Epidemic,” an obscure political farce by French writer Octave Mirbeau, adapted as a Covid19 parallel in “The Ineptidemic.” The Conspirators’ shows are hilarious satires, laughworthy regardless of one’s political orientation. But they also point up some heavy-duty dramaturgy at play. Bullion and Feldman are deeply knowledgeable theatrical professionals at work on serious artistic expression.

If there is a challenge for audiences watching The Conspirators productions, it lies in adapting ourselves to their performance method, known as The Style. They are the only company in Chicago using it (it originated with actor Tim Robbins at The Actors Gang in Los Angeles; Robbins was a schoolmate of Bullion’s), and it can take some moments to get used to it. For one thing, actors are heavily made up, in thick white greasepaint with dark exaggerated brows, lines and mouth drawn in.

"The Deckchairs, or Make the Titanic Great Again"

The lighting is starkly bright. Delivery is exaggerated, in quick bursts. A stage-side drummer punctuates the lines. And sets are minimalist. There is no dramatic naturalism to be found, quite a departure from Steppenwolf or Goodman or any of Chicago’s storefront stages.

Most arresting is the acting method. No individualized background story is developed in the minds of the actors to inform their expression of character. Instead, just four emotions are allowed, usually delivered full throttle: happiness, sadness, anger and fear. All these elements are the foundation of the version of The Style employed by The Conspirators, introduced to Chicago by a player from LA’s The Actors Gang, Chicago’s John Cusack, for the now defunct New Crime Theater.

The Evanston Connection
“Sid and I both come from Evanston, which is kind of important,” says Bullion. “The high school theater program was really advanced - right next to Northwestern.” Bullion went on to study theater at UCLA, in the same program as actor Tim Robbins who, along with Cynthia Ettinger, originated The Style 40 years ago. Robbins founded The Actors Gang, which describes The Style as rooted in “Théâtre du Soleil, Grotowski, Viewpoints, punk rock and popular culture.” It is still used and taught at Robbins’ Culver City stage near Los Angeles, currently presenting “Topsy Turvy” through September 27, written and directed by Robbins.

The history of The Style corresponds to Bullion’s and Feldman’s backgrounds. Feldman went to school in Evanston with Cusack. After his time with The Actors Gang, Cusack started Chicago’s New Crime Theater in the 1990s as a local platform for productions in The Style.

Feldman ended up connecting with Cusack at New Crime. “I was always a business guy,” Feldman says. When a producer at New Crime melted down during a production of “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas” its co-directors Cusack and Steve Pink then tapped Feldman to step in at the Chopin Theater, in 1991. (Jeremy Piven was in the cast.)

“It was just a monster of a show to produce,” Feldman says. “And Steve told me I had to come over, and I found the producer in a fetal position, rocking in a corner, it was just too big of a show, she just couldn’t handle it. So I got in through that end, and as I was watching their workshops in The Style, I realized what storefront theater was missing.” Feldman felt drawn to change it.

“Billy [Bullion] and I did a few plays together in the late 90s,” says Feldman. “That’s when we got together. Then we broke up, I started writing screenplays and I went to LA.” Feldman spent the winter months each year on the West Coast during this period. “I had some minor success and I did some rewrites for people who needed help.”

"Accidental Death of a Black Motorist"

Bullion meanwhile was in Chicago, “living the storefront life,” he says. “I had a company called Sliced Bread Productions, and I was doing Brecht, Richard III, two Charles Ludlam plays—farce—wacky, statement making shows.”

Bullion and Feldman had first met up in the subculture music scene in Chicago, but eventually their paths crossed again in theater as well.

Feldman eventually soured on the movie business when one of his scripts, all of them written on spec, finally was made into a movie that he didn’t get paid for.

“That was the turning point,” says Feldman. “The producer never gave me a contract, he stole my possession, he never gave me a dime, I tried suing him for years.” When Feldman returned to Chicago, he and Bullion decided to do some shows together.

“We did Sternheim's "The Underpants" and Friedrich Dürrenmatt's “The Physicists." Bullion had been directing and acting in Chicago. “I was in “Hizzoner Daley the First” for about four years [at Prop Theater] and by the time that was ending we were finding our way back together. During the run-up to the 2016 election Feldman asked Bullion, "Why don’t we put on some workshops and try to put on a show?”

When Bullion, who had also been directing for Babes with Blades in 2014, received a script by Aaron Adair for “L’imbecile” — a gender reversal of “Rigoletto,” he immediately thought of an approach. “There was only one way this play can possibly be done, and that was in The Style,” Bullion says. Soon after The Conspirators was formed.

“So he brought me in and I taught them The Style,” Feldman says.“The plays I had done with New Crime were all in The Style. A lot of our terminology comes from them. Tim Robbins has gone to a more softened version of The Style for major productions at The Actors Gang. At The Conspirators, we have kept it pure, we have actually made it more pure in some ways. It’s a living beast with us; we’re always changing it.”

Because there is no ready cadre of actors schooled in The Style to cast for its shows, The Conspirators have taken to running free workshops, training actors in the technique. From these workshops, it casts its shows.

As Feldman explains, “In college you study to learn who the character is, you study the background and the backstory - and you let that form how you deliver the monologues.
“This is what I teach them,” says Feldman. “I tell them to come in with a one to two minute monologue, with nothing, and in our workshops we only use four emotions: happiness, sadness, fear, and anger - all extremes. There’s no jealousy (“No bemusement” Bullion says.) You come in with a monologue, with nothing prepared - and I just randomly shout out what your next state is, in which you have to deliver the next line or two, in that state. And it always works, no matter what the character is, no matter what the words are. It always works if you commit to it.” This departure from all the character building methods most actors have been trained to can be mind blowing for performers.

“We all say it’s not real, it’s not realistic,” says Bullion, who will direct “Duck Soup.” ”But what makes the style work is the absolute sincerity, and the absolute commitment to real emotion. And that is what gives a harmonic. I don’t want someone ‘acting’ mad. I want the real emotion.”

Feldman notes, “If you pretend to be angry, you can see it immediately. And that exercise is the most important one that gets them to be real actors. This confidence to make choices that other people might not make.”

Outlandish as this approach might sound, it is firmly rooted in deeply established performance traditions, beginning with 16th century commedia dell arte, which used masked archetypal characters and a mix of script and improvisation. This has cropped up on Chicago stages in a variety productions, including Court Theatre’s 2016 “One Man, Two Guvnors” 
In The Conspirator’s adaptation for The Style, heavy make-up along with an abrupt, exaggerated delivery recalls the stylized performance of Japan’s Kabuki. But there is more to it than that.

Promoting the training workshops to actors, The Conspirators describe The Style’s combination of classic commedia dell’arte, kabuki, and sprinkles of Ariane Mnouchkine via actor Tim Robbins’ The Actors’ Gang, “a soupçon of clown” along with the aesthetic of actor John Cusack's New Crime Productions, with influences of “Bugs Bunny and punk rock.”

“One of the things Billy and I talked about before we did “Chicago Cop Macbeth” was not only how people treat Shakespeare too preciously, but also too linearly. As though every single monologue has one point to it. What we see is that people grow during these monologues. People are trying to outwit the other characters to get what they want. Sometimes it’s sarcasm. Our style punches that up. When you compare it to the recent Denzel Washington and Frances McDormand, that was a snoozer. By putting it in the style we’re giving people not just entertainment to watch, but I think it breaks the story down better and makes it more understandable.”

Bullion agrees. “It’s accessible. Because you are laughing along with this meta reality we are creating, because you are laughing along with the cast, you are with them.” To attract contemporary audiences, Feldman believes more radical approaches to theater are called for.

“I would argue, and this is going to be controversial, people are not interested in realism in the theater. When you give them reality in the theater they go to sleep. Young playwrights will give me something, and I’ll say, ‘This is boring.’ And they’ll say, ‘Yeh, but it’s real.’ Nobody wants to watch me get ready to go to bed. That’s real too. Give me something outrageous.”

How this will play out in ”Duck Soup” will be known soon enough. We’ll meet Groucho’s character Rufus T. Firefly, just appointed dictator of Freedonia, who in the film lets us know,. “If you think this country's bad off now, just wait till I get through with it!” What can be said is we can expect the unexpected from The Conspirators’ version opening October 30 at Stars & Garters (formerly Otherworld Theater).

If you are one that finds ballet boring, you haven’t been to Joffrey Ballet. Kicking off their 70th season with Carmen, Joffrey once again proves it’s the ballet company for adults. Hot off the heels of his 2023 production of ‘Frankenstein’, Liam Scarlett returns to Chicago with his US premiere of Carmen.

Set to the iconic Georges Bizet opera score, Carmen is the classic tale of love and betrayal. Carmen works in the harsh conditions of a Spanish cigar factory. Her and the other factory women trade flirtations for preferential treatment from the guards, but it’s the sexy Carmen men all want. Soon she’s entangled in a love triangle between the guard Don Jose (Alberto Velazquez) and bullfighting champion Escamillo.

You can’t have a love triangle in a ballet without a little sex, or in this case, a lot of it. Joffrey has never been shy about putting eroticism into their work, even their Nutcracker has a little something for all ages. Scarlett’s choreography is red hot and his Carmen is even hotter. Victoria Jaiani dances the lead with such lithe dexterity. However, it’s Dylan Gutierrez dancing the role of Escamillo who becomes the focal point in the second act. The bullfight scene nearly commands a standing ovation, something typically reserved for the curtain call.

Carmen is the main character, but that doesn’t necessarily mean she’s the hero. Instead, another unrequited love story unfolds between Don Jose and a young woman from his past Micaëla. Micaëla is danced by Gayeon Jung who not only scorches the floor with her dancing but breaks hearts with her ability to convey emotion through facial expression.

Alberto Velazquez and Gayeon Jung in Carmen at Lyric Opera House.

Carmen begins a little slow, but by the second act, the audience is as seduced by her as Don Jose is. An even more seductive element are the settings created by Kristin McGarrity, Laura Morera and Lauren Strongin. The action plays out against a deepening red sky and concludes with the subtle symbolism of a dying bull. Costumes by Jon Bauser only add to the visual splendor of Carmen.

As Bizet’s beautiful score floats out from the orchestra pit, emotions run high. Carmen is a ballet that keeps its audience firmly in its grip. Opera and ballet are known for their melodrama, but few feel as suspenseful as Carmen. Scarlett’s vision for this new production is perfectly matched by the spectacle created by the innovative team at Joffrey Ballet. 

Through September 18 at Joffrey Ballet at Lyric Opera House. 20 N Wacker Dr. 312-827-5600

When a business closes, who mourns their loss? Lee Kirk’s new play Ashland Avenue, now running at Goodman Theatre, asks that very question. Kirk resides in LA, but he studied theatre at DePaul a few decades back and has a strong connection to the city of Chicago. On a recent visit, he remarked on how few of his college haunts were still open. Perhaps it wasn’t grief that inspired him, but rather a nostalgia for the places he spent formative years.

You can’t tell a Chicago story in Chicago without one of the city's most celebrated actors, Francis Guinan. As to be expected, he brings a certain hometown charm to the role of Pete, of Pete’s TVs–his time capsule of an electronic store. Ashland Avenue begins with Pete preparing to be honored by the mayor for being part of the community for over 40 years. His daughter Sam, played by Jenna Fischer of ‘The Office’, loyally helps him keep the shop running as the world marches into the future and threatens to leave her behind.

Ashland Avenue runs the length of Chicago, and each block tells a different story, but every city has its own version of changing neighborhoods and gentrification. Kirk’s use of objects as storytelling devices feels especially relevant as a parallel to Pete’s TV shop. Though TVs are still a staple of most households, their importance has significantly waned in an era in which you can stream network TV on your iPhone. Ashland Avenue is at its core a play about the tension between Pete’s sustained resistance to change and his daughter Sam’s yearning for a new beginning.

If you live anywhere long enough, you’ll see storefronts change, but how often do we think about the proprietors and what prompted them to close their doors? Ashland Avenue brings you behind the counter to share in both the victories and failures of small business. It’s a play that celebrates family owned and operated businesses in a world of Targets and Amazons. It’s weird to say a business becomes part of your own family but like an aging family member, once they’re gone, they’re gone.

The small cast is rounded out by Sam’s husband Mike (Chike Johnson), Pete’s former shop assistant, now roommate Jess (Cordelia Dewdney), and a mysterious late-night customer played by Will Allan. A whole world of emotional catharsis happens just within the shop walls, but big things come in small packages. The scene work between Fischer and Guinan is understated and heartrending, which is to say, human and honest. Both performances only add to the authenticity of the play.

It can be tough to write a play about Chicago when you are not really from Chicago. Too often we see out-of-town writers jam in the words “bean” and “Sears Tower” but Ashland Avenue has perfectly captured the spirit of what it means to be a Chicagoan. Perhaps it’s the reliably earnest Guinan’s performance or Kirk’s brilliant script but Ashland Avenue might just be the best Chicago play since Bruce Norris’ 2011 Pulitzer winner Clybourn Park. 

Through October 12 at Goodman Theatre. 170 N Dearborn St. 312-443-3800

Kimberly Dixon-Mays’ debut play Rabbits In Their Pockets, developed in the Lifeline BIPOC 2024 Workshop and now receiving a world premiere under the direction of Christopher Wayland, is a bold but uneven first effort. The play aspires to braid together family drama, Black folklore, and speculative Afrofuturism, but its script often buckles under its own ambition. Fortunately, Wayland’s staging and the committed, charismatic performances of his cast keep the production afloat, offering the audience enough vitality and resonance to stay engaged.

At the heart of the play are two sisters facing grief and legacy. Ash (Lakecia Harris), the elder, is a methodical aerospace engineer who believes joy can be engineered, even embedded into the walls of their late father’s home. Harley (Simmery Branch), younger, mercurial, and endlessly playful, sees improv as a distinctly Black technology—an art of survival through adaptability and wit. Together they clash over what to do with the family house: sell it, reinvent it, or transform it into something larger than themselves. Along the way, they are joined by Jasper (Marcus D. Moore), a friend and aspiring performer, and Inola (Felisha McNeal), an enigmatic elder who oscillates between investor, trickster, and perhaps even ancestor.

The script brims with ideas—sometimes too many for its own good. Dixon-Mays clearly has a fertile imagination and a keen sense of cultural inheritance. Br’er Rabbit folktales and the language of improvisation surface as recurring motifs, meant to show how Black families survive through cunning, resilience, and creativity. But rather than letting these motifs emerge organically, the dialogue often pauses to explain them at length. Ash’s “joy technology” speeches are dense with jargon, and Harley repeats her philosophy of improv as survival until the point is belabored. What should be vibrant metaphors instead risk feeling like lectures.

The dramatic stakes are also uneven. The decision to sell or keep the house is meant to stand in for deeper questions of legacy, cultural continuity, and grief. Yet too often the debate feels abstract, more a clash of ideas than a struggle rooted in palpable necessity. What happens if they don’t sell? If Ash’s joy system fails? If Harley’s dream fizzles? The play gestures toward these consequences without fully realizing them, softening the urgency.

Some characters suffer from this imbalance. Jasper, despite Marcus D. Moore’s affable performance, fades into the background as the sisters’ conflict escalates. Inola, wonderfully embodied by Felisha McNeal, is fascinating but underdefined: sometimes elder, sometimes ancestor, sometimes entrepreneur. This ambiguity could be powerful if sharpened, but as written, it feels more inconsistent than intentional.

Where Dixon-Mays overreaches, Christopher Wayland’s direction provides clarity. He keeps the pacing brisk, shapes the tonal shifts with care, and leans into the play’s improvisational spirit without letting it sprawl.

The performances are this production’s saving grace. Lakecia Harris gives Ash a flinty discipline that gradually reveals a woman undone by grief. Simmery Branch lights up the stage as Harley, balancing mischievous humor with aching vulnerability. Marcus D. Moore mines Jasper for humor and pathos, especially in his monologue about being both celebrated and consumed as a “rabbit.” And McNeal, magnetic and sly, grounds the play’s slipperiest role with commanding presence.

Rabbits In Their Pockets is not yet a fully realized play—it is a workshop bursting with possibility, weighed down by over-explanation and underdeveloped stakes. Yet as a debut, it reveals Dixon-Mays as a writer unafraid to ask large questions about joy, memory, and cultural survival. Thanks to Wayland’s sharp direction and the cast’s deeply felt performances, audiences can glimpse the vibrant play struggling to emerge.

Recommended

When: Through October 5

Where: Lifeline Theatre,  6912 N. Glenwood

Running time: 90 minutes

Tickets: $25 - $45 at

773-761-4477 and www.lifelinetheatre.com

Opening Trap Door Theatre’s 32nd season as part of the Trap Open Series with its world premiere, Suz Evans’ Ghost Fetus is a rough-edged, bold original work that delivers a performance as both humorous and cathartic as it is unexpected.

With a small, five-person cast, the play centers on two queer teenage girls, Whitney and Sarah Jane, as they navigate their relationship and identities within their church community. While turning to Pastor Craig for guidance, the trio encounters a ghost fetus and must also confront the more personal “ghosts” within themselves.

The play, experimental and unpolished, tells a timeless coming-of-age story, creating space for the audience to laugh both with the characters and, at times, at them, and the absurdities that may accompany a strict religious upbringing. Evans’ script balances wry, biting humor with a keen sense of the dissonance between belief and lived experience. Sprinkled throughout are bursts of original music (by Laila Eskin) – hymn-like chants with absurd lyrics – that heighten the satire and draw frequent laughter from the audience.

Under the direction of Anna Klos, the 45-minute production radiates a raw, communal energy. It was clear that the full cast was committed to the show entirely: even without mics, the cast filled the theater with every line delivery, and took up the whole space with every movement, at times even invading the audience. Although not polished in the traditional sense, the acting aligned with the unvarnished vibe of the production perfectly. While Ghost Fetus is truly an ensemble show, Tia Pinson (playing Ghost Fetus) was a particular standout, with emotional delivery and physicality that feel almost otherworldly.

The production’s design further reflects the overall feeling of raw authenticity, with a modest but impressively constructed set mainly consisting of a scaled-up picnic basket full of surprises. The lighting (which includes one prolonged instance of heavy strobing, a fair warning to sensitive audience members) and sound were fitting and understated, tying the show together without being a primary focus. Adding to the spirit of the production, the program arrives in the form of a zine, an inventive touch that sets the playful, offbeat tone before the first line is spoken.

Ghost Fetus may not offer the polish of a mainstage production, but its rawness – feeling more like a communal act of introspection than a neatly packaged play – is precisely what makes it compelling. The audience responded in kind: laughter bubbled up at obvious jokes and, just as often, at the uncomfortable truths the characters voiced. That shared reaction—half amusement, half recognition—was part of the evening’s quiet power. It captures the messy, often contradictory feelings of grappling with faith, sexuality, and loss, and it does so with a mix of audacity and heart. For those willing to embrace its unvarnished energy, the play offers a uniquely personal – and unexpectedly healing – experience.

Ghost Fetus is running at Trap Door Theatre through October 27th. Tickets are available at https://trapdoortheatre.com/ghost-fetus/.