Displaying items by tag: BREON ARZELL

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.

Katori Hall is an acclaimed American playwright, screenwriter, and director, known for her vivid portrayal of African American experiences and social issues. Her notable works include "The Mountaintop," which won an Olivier Award, "Hurt Village," and "Pussy Valley," which she adapted into the successful TV series "P-Valley." Hall's "The Hot Wing King" won the 2021 Pulitzer Prize for Drama. A graduate of Columbia University, Harvard University, and Juilliard School, Hall's storytelling is celebrated for its authenticity and depth. Her work continues to shape contemporary theater and television, earning her a prominent place in the arts.

The Chicago premiere of "The Hot Wing King," directed by Lilli-Anne Brown, is a dramedy that serves up a heaping helping of laughter, family drama, and Black excellence – all sizzling with the promise of a fiery wing competition. Set in Memphis, Tennessee, the play follows Chef Cordell Crutchfield (Breon Arzell) and his boyfriend Dwayne (Jos A. Banks) as they prepare for the annual "Hot Wang Festival." Joined by their friends, the hilarious Isom (Joseph Anthony Byrd) and the stoic Big Charles (Thee Ricky Harris), their kitchen becomes a battleground of culinary creativity and personal challenges, both personal and relational.

Lilli-Anne Brown is an acclaimed director celebrated for her contributions to theater. She has directed numerous productions, including "Passing Strange," "The Color Purple," and "The Nacirema Society." Brown's work has been recognized with multiple awards, including the Joseph Jefferson Award for Best Director. A Chicago native, she has made significant impacts in regional theaters. Brown is celebrated for her commitment to diversity and her ability to bring complex, underrepresented stories to life on stage.

The play's greatest strength lies in its characters. Arzell embodies Cordell with a nuanced charm, capturing his self-doubt and his yearning to reconnect with his estranged sons. Banks provides a grounding presence as Dwayne, the supportive partner grappling with his own family drama involving his troubled nephew, Everett. Kevin Tre'von Patterson as TJ, Everett's father, brings a raw vulnerability to the character. The standout, however, is Jarbari Khaliq as Everett. Khaliq delivers a heartfelt performance as the teenager burdened by grief and resentment, looking for stability in an ever-changing world.  

The production itself is a feast for the senses. Lauren M. Nichols' scenic design transforms the stage into a believable and vibrant middle-class Memphis home, an open-floor plan kitchen/living room with overflowing spice racks and countertops. On the second level is a comfortable guest bedroom. There’s a patio next to the kitchen with a barbecue pit and basketball court.  Yvonne Miranda's costumes are equally evocative, reflecting the characters' personalities and the play's Memphis setting. Jason Lynch's lighting design seamlessly transitions between the jovial kitchen banter and moments of tender introspection, while Willow James' sound design adds a layer of authenticity with the sizzle of frying wings and the pulsating beat of soul music. There is even the smell of barbecue sauce wafting through the air.

However, the production is not without its shortcomings. While Isom undoubtedly provides comic relief with his flamboyant personality and penchant for flamboyant outfits, his portrayal occasionally veers into the realm of stereotypes. Isom's sole function seems to be the "outlandish gay friend," a tired trope that robs him of the complexity that other characters possess. More thought should have been given to this characterization. This reliance on stereotype undermines the play's attempt to celebrate Black LGBTQIA+ experiences, it undermines the story and feels like a missed opportunity for richer representation.

The plot itself, while heartwarming, occasionally feels predictable. The looming wing competition serves as a clear metaphor for Cordell's personal struggles, and the play's resolution, while satisfying, lacks the kind of surprise that would elevate the experience. While the humor is well-executed, some of the jokes rely on familiar tropes, leaving the audience wanting a bit more originality.

Despite these shortcomings, ‘The Hot Wing King’ remains an enjoyable and ultimately uplifting theatrical experience. The strong central performances, combined with the vibrant production design, create a world that is both humorous and relatable. The play’s exploration of family and brotherhood, masculinity and identity, and the importance of community creates a rich and layered exploration of contemporary life and relationships, one that is sure to resonate with audiences.

"The Hot Wing King" delivers a heartwarming dramedy that celebrates Black joy and resilience. It shines with its strong central performances and vibrant production design, creating a fun and relatable world.  Audiences seeking a feel-good story with a touch of Southern charm are sure to enjoy "The Hot Wing King."

Recommended

When: Through July 21
Where: Writers Theater, 325 Tudor Ct., Glencoe
Tickets: $35-$90
Info: writerstheatre.org
Running time: 2 hours and 15 minutes with one intermission

The Total Bent is a musical show so delightful I wish I could shrink it down, put it in a shoebox and show it to all my friends. But you can (and should) go see it full scale at Den Theatre, where it runs through March 10.

Ostensibly the story traces a British record producer’s effort to record a Gospel music prodigy in Montgomery, Alabama. But to be truthful the real story told by playwrights Heidi Rodewald and Stew depict with color and verve the personal journey of a creative spirit – Marty Roy (Gilbery Domally) – as he finds his voice and attains fame on a global stage.

All that is set against a sweeping portrait of the tense interplay between black music and African-American culture as the Civil Rights movement seized the day. It is told through the oedipal battle of a father and son who are at odds around matters, spiritual, social and musical.

The Total Bent features Chicago treasure Robert Cornelius as Montgomery preacher Joe Roy who has built his career as a Bible-thumping televangelist and Gospel music recording artist. This role taps Cornelius's wonderfully expressive baritone, and his stentorian delivery in the dialog.

But it is Gilbery Domally, as Joe’s young adult son, who steals the show, channelling the role of Marty Roy. He is dazzling! Domally is more like a force of nature than mere performer as he traverses a role that sees him evolve from his father’s hidden spiritual musical muse, moving across multiple musical styles and stage personae as he navigates toward his creative apotheosis on the world stage.

All this is told with an acerbic wit, and that ironic twist we get from the likes of Donald Glover, Jordan Peel, and Spike Lee.
From the moment Marty Roy prances onto the stage, we are treated to a continuous critique of his father, and an uproarious and irreverent running commentary on the conflicts between those clinging to the status quo in the Jim Crow South, as Black Power emerged.

Joe Roy is celebrated for his inspiring, traditional Gospel songs. But to keep the song mill moving, he relied on his wife, now gone, and now his son Marty, to pen the music. As the social revolution rocks Montgomery and the South, Marty encourages his father to tap into it in his preaching and singing, and provides him a lovely song with a scathing refrain: “That’s why he’s Jesus and you’re not, Whitey.” Marty asks the Music Director (Jermain Hill, who also plays Deacon Charlie, is a stitch) to do a retake: "Try a less church-y sound," he says. "I am such a pest!" 

Siding with social conservatives, “This protesting stuff is going to ruin everything,” Joe Roy tells his son. “Is there any real money in it?” He advises Montgomery's white people to ride the buses to combat the boycott by blacks that was launched by Rosa Parks. “If our spiritual rights were in order, we wouldn’t need no civil rights,” he advises his African-American followers.

Then Marty Roy skips across to stage right, waves his hand, and offers an explanation to the audience (it's hard to imagine today, but most white people regarded Parks as a villain): “This all be the past, and shit.” Rather than labor in his father's vineyard, Marty sets out to become a secular music writer, and we watch him transform in stages, becoming a James Brown soul singer with carefully choreographed back-ups, to a Prince-like apparition who has continuous bookings in London.

The Total Bent is largely a sung work, with limited amounts of dialog. It is the latest theatrical script by the creative team of Heidi Rodewald, and Stew. The two rose to fame with Passing Strange, which won a Tony, an Obie, and a Drama Critics Circle Award in 2008. Stew (he doesn’t use his last name, See) is a singer, songwriter, and leader of a pop-rock band in Los Angeles called The Negro Problem, which recorded Post Minstrel Syndrome in 1997. As this background suggest, Stew mines a rich vein of “detached black irony” in his creations.

The music is wonderful, two band members also characters: Frederick Harris as Deacon Dennis; and Jermain Hill as Deacon Charlie. Outstanding also were supporting cast members Michael Turrentine as Andrew and Breon Arzell as Abee – the duo deftly taking on a variety of comical roles as church ladies and bumpkins.

Among so many striking aspects of the show, we get to see and hear several songs composed, Joe Roy's sacred version, then a retake by Marty Roy in a profane rock style. One such is "Sinner I Know You're Lost." It's a lovely classic hymn as Joe Roy originates it; but it is transporting when Marty Roy redoes it in a swinging rock style, coupled with the refrain, "I gotta get up on the cross." 

The Total Bent is highly recommended on its own merits, and especially to see Gilbery Domally’s amazing performance. Jointly produced by Haven Theatre and About Face Theatre, it features dummer Christian Moreno on drums, Anthony Rodriguez on winds, Derek Duleba on guitar, and Kurt Shelby on Bass. It’s at the Den Theatre through March 17.

Objects in the Mirror, an outstanding play having its premier at Goodman Theatre, will soon have you wanting to know more about its author, Charles Smith, a Chicago playwright.  

Starring Daniel Kyri as Shedrick Yarkpai, this play springs from the true story of the real life Yarkpai, a refugee who fled Liberia in the aftermath of its first Civil War, struggling for 12 years across hostile terrain and through refugee camps in Guinea and Cote d’Ivoire.

Excellent performances and a creative set and lighting make this a show not to miss, especially for the wonderful writing of Charles Smith. Breon Arzell plays cousin Zaza Workolo; Ryan Kitley is Rob Mosher; and Lily Mojekwu as Shedrick’s mother Luopu Workolo is just spectacular – she steals all her scenes.

The real life Shedrick Yarkpai eventually made his way to Adelaide, Australia, and as fate would have it became an actor. And so, playwright Smith met him and heard his tale while staging another of his plays there - Free Man of Color (it won a 2004 Jeff Award and has been staged widely, including the Goodman).

Shedrick Yarkpai’s passage through the wilderness alone would be a worthy story, bringing our attention to the privation in Liberia wrought by years of civil chaos. But this play would not succeed as it does, unless it can hold our attention and keep us in our seats. 

And here Smith’s skillful craft shines through, along with director Chuck Smith and the creative team, who have turned the years-long odyssey of the protagonists, Shedrick and his uncle John Workolo (Allen Gilmore is terrific) – they ate grass, lived in the bush, both life and limbs, literally, endangered by violent, machete wielding warriors – and condensed it into an engaging trek, showing geography, educating us on the history, but all in an entertaining way, unlikely as this may seem.

Objects in the Mirror is so much more than a topical recount of Liberian suffering and struggle. Smith also puts before us the psychological and emotional toll on all refugees who must give up so much of their culture, and themselves, in resettling. Among the things so striking about Smith’s play is how he holds our interest in Shedrick’s odyssey. But he subordinates it to a more charged dramatic concern: the personal compromises refugees must make in escaping, and losses that can never be reclaimed.

In a way that only theater can, we engage and experience the personal emotional stress. And while we know of the trauma, what Smith conveys is the suffering from loss of identity, and of dreams. Shedrick has adopted a false identity to make it through border crossings – but he regrets the loss of his name.

Shedrick is a dreamer. He is also a storyteller, as is Smith, and the characters he has created. "Through storytelling, the play ascends to a powerful examination of truth and falsity, and the powers of persuasion. All good stories tell a strand of the truth," says Uncle John.

Once in Adelaide, Yarkpai finds work with a supportive Australian government agent – but Shedrick’s uncle John is fearful it will blow their cover. The debate through several scenes in which different characters tell their version of the parts of Shedrick's story is the stuff of great theater. 

The creative team includes Riccardo Hernandez (set design), Mike Tutaj (projection design), John Culbert (lighting design), Birgit Rattenborg Wise (costume design), Ray Nardelli (sound design). Briana J. Fahey is the production stage manager.

Objects in the Mirror runs through June 4 at the Goodman Theatre. It is highly recommended.