Displaying items by tag: Shakespeare

We often forget that The Taming of the Shrew is, at its core, a play within a play - a bit of theatrical mischief in which characters watch other characters pretend. Marti Lyons’s ambitious new adaptation for Court Theatre not only remembers this but revels in it. She reframes Shakespeare’s battle-of-wills as a private, immersive experience for five elite guests - figures who could easily have wandered off the set of Succession—invited to indulge in a curated world of erotica, fantasy, and power play. This is not like any production of Shrew I have ever seen. And I love it.

Lyons taps into the erotic charge embedded in Shakespeare’s text. For Lyons the struggle between Kate and Petruchio isn’t a patriarchal lesson but a provocation - an invitation to consider what people consent to in the privacy of their desires, even when those desires run counter to their public personas. In fantasy, we try on identities we might never inhabit in daylight. Could Kate, in this telling, actually be exercising her agency by consenting to a submissive role in her intimate life while fiercely maintaining her autonomy in her public life? The question lingers.

The production openly engages with bondage, discipline, dominance, submission and S&M,  - not as taboo spectacle but as a consensual system built on trust, communication, and negotiated power. This is especially evident at Petruchio’s house.  Instead of treating Kate’s submission as Shakespeare’s dreaded moral, Lyons reframes it as a conversation about desire and embodiment. The cast leans into this with a refreshing clarity: pleasure, not punishment, drives the story. Power is a game, and everyone in the room is choosing to play.

By foregrounding the play-within-the-play structure, Lyons opens a fertile space not only to re-engage with the text but to ask ourselves uncomfortable, thrilling questions about love and control, submission and domination, agency and desire. It is rare for a Shrew to feel so sensual and so intellectually alive.

Much of the production’s force comes from its ensemble. As Katherina, Melisa Soledad Pereyra embodies fire, humor, and hunger—a woman who knows her own body and mind. Her chemistry with Jay Whittaker’s Petruchio is the engine of the evening: two equals circling, sparring, testing limits until the battle between them becomes a dance. Netta Walker’s Bianca is no docile ingénue; she claims her place with confident wit. Samuel Taylor, Nate Santana, and Dexter Zollicoffer bring sharp comedic flavor to Hortensio, Lucentio, and Gremio, while Ryder Dean McDaniel anchors Tranio with duplicitous cunning. The supporting cast - Alex Weisman, Monica West, and others - soften and sharpen the edges of the world as needed.

The design team conjures a world where erotic imagination thrives. Jackie Fox’s scenic design refashions Court Theatre into a sensuous playground of marble black-and-white tiled floors, sculpted statues, expansive botanical murals, and imposing wooden doors. Kotryna Hilko’s costumes heighten the atmosphere with daring textures - leather for Petruchio, jewel-toned gowns for the women, jacquard damask for the aristocrats - each piece balancing revelation and restraint, structure and seduction. Every visual element underscores Lyons’s central argument: desire is a kind of performance, and every performance is a negotiation of power.

This Taming of the Shrew pulses not with brute domination but with the sensual, exacting choreography of consent. Lyons doesn’t blunt the play’s jagged edges; she sharpens them into tools of erotic inquiry. Her staging invites us to feel the heat of what is given freely, the tautness of what is deliberately withheld, and the exhilaration of boundaries tested - then mutually defined.

Court Theatre’s production doesn’t simply reinterpret Shrew; it challenges us to reinterpret ourselves. By grounding the story in erotic power exchange and consciously negotiated dynamics, Lyons’s adaptation pushes us to confront the desires we rarely articulate. What do we relinquish willingly? What pleasure do we find in surrender? And what power do we claim by choosing when—and to whom—we yield? In Lyons’s hands, the theatre becomes a chamber of self-interrogation, where the line between performance and private longing thins, and we’re invited to examine the fantasies that shape us as intimately as any script.

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

When: through Dec 14TH

Where: Court Theatre, 5535 S. Ellis Ave.

Running Time: 2 hours, 30 minutes 15 minute intermission

Tickets: $60 - $90.00 Student, Group and military discounts available

773-753-4472

www.courttheatre.org

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. 

Walking into Windy City Playhouse, audiences are immediately transported to somewhere new. Scenic Designer Kevin Rofls fills the space with trees, branches, and flowers – drawing the audience into the story as soon as they enter the space. Lighting Designer Trey Brazeal highlights the room in a mix of various shades of blue, creating a somewhat hazy atmosphere. The shadows hit the tree branches and rocks just right, also providing an air of mystery. Audiences are immersed into a space of wonder.

The Winter’s Tale is about a number of things. There’s heartbreak and betrayal. There is jealousy and trickery. There’s reconciliation and forgiveness, as well as the test of time. Surrounding all of these storylines is one of magic and love – with an exploration of how the heart can bring us to do some dangerous, but also some beautiful things. The design team creatively collaborates to draw audiences into that enchanted world – a space where anything can happen. Particularly when combined with live music, you might just find yourself leaning in as you become absorbed in the dark romance.

Written by William Shakespeare, The Winter’s Tale follows King Leontes (Michael Stejskal). When he falsely accuses his wife, Hermione (Andrea Uppling) of having an affair with his best friend, King Polixenes (Raul Alonzo), a series of unfortunate events are spurred into action. Hermione is arrested, causing their young son, Mamillius (Jennifer Agather) to die due to distress. The King and Queen’s baby girl is stolen away for safety, and Hermione barely makes it through her trial. As with so many Shakespearean stories, all turns into chaos, and the remaining heroes are eventually left to pick up the pieces and see what may be worth saving.

Directed and adapted by Charles Askenaizer, the ensemble as a whole is quite strong. The Winter’s Tale is one of Shakespeare’s pieces that does not quite fit. There is love, but it is not technically a comedy. There is death, but it is not quite a tragedy. The story moves through the highs and lows of the genre and the actors bring that to life with ease – in particular, Uppling as Hermione and Stejskal as Leontes. Shakespeare does not make it easy for these performers – with a relationship that pulls a 180 within minutes as Leontes becomes lost in jealousy and rage. However, this duo approaches the emotional complexity with grace and certainly keeps the audiences on their toes – wondering what twist or turn may be thrown into the relationship next.

As much as The Winter’s Tale handles heavy matters of tragedy, the production also carries what some might find to be much needed moments of levity. Sam Nachison’s Autolycus is a prime example - appearing early in Act 2. Autolycus steals from an unsuspecting Clown (played by Kyle Quinlivan - with a sweet, unassuming innocence), and Nachison turns this into a game with the audience. With each piece of clothing Autolycus tricks the poor man into removing, or coin purse that the Clown unknowingly hands over – Nachison throws a little wink or gesture to the adoring crowd. His performance elicited uproars of laughter, and even cheers as the thief’s tactics became increasingly over-the-top.

With a stunning design and strong ensemble, The Winter’s Tale is a night of romance and wonder. 

RECOMMENDED

Run Time: 2 hours and 45 minutes, with intermission.

The Winter’s Tale runs through April 20, 2025 at Windy City Playhouse – 3014 W. Irving Park Road. For tickets and information, see the Invictus Theatre website.

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

James Ijames' Pulitzer Prize-winning play, Fat Ham, bursts onto the Goodman Theatre stage in a vibrant, deeply resonant co-production with Definition Theatre. Directed with an expert hand by Definition Theatre's Artistic Director Tyrone Phillips, this contemporary reinvention of Hamlet dazzles with humor, heart, and a profound exploration of identity, toxic masculinity, and generational burdens.

Set in a Southern backyard during a family barbecue, Fat Ham transforms Shakespeare's dark tragedy into a poignant yet hilarious meditation on living one's truth. At the center of this narrative is Juicy, played with remarkable nuance and emotional depth by Trumane Alston. Juicy's journey of self-discovery unfolds amid the ghosts—both literal and figurative—of his family's past, grappling with expectations of masculinity and the weight of inherited trauma.

Alston's performance is layered and compelling; his Juicy is introspective and tender yet brimming with an undercurrent of resilience, given time he will lean more into the character arc. His comedic timing is impeccable, delivering Ijames' sharp and incisive dialogue with a natural ease that invites the audience into his emotional world. Juicy's interactions with his spirited best friend Tio, brought to life by the dynamic Victor Musoni, provide some of the play's most humorous and thought-provoking moments. Musoni's portrayal of Tio is electric, offering a counterpoint to Juicy's introspection with boundless energy and unfiltered wisdom.

Ronald Connor impresses in the dual role of Rev and Pap, seamlessly shifting between the domineering ghost of Juicy's father and the charismatic over-sexed preacher presiding over family affairs. His presence looms large, embodying the toxic masculinity that haunts Juicy's world with an intensity that is both chilling and oddly comedic. Opposite him, Anji White as Tedra, Juicy's vivacious mother, delivers a powerhouse performance—balancing maternal warmth with an underlying desperation to escape her own past.

Ireon Roach’s Opal is a revelation, with her confidence simmering to the surface, while Sheldon Brown’s Larry, a stoic Marine grappling with his own identity, offers a poignant reflection of the play’s central themes. And no production would be complete without the powerhouse that is E. Faye Butler, whose presence on stage is nothing short of magical.

The technical elements of the production elevate the storytelling to new heights. Arnel Sancianco’s set design captures the essence of a Southern backyard with rich, lived-in detail, creating a tangible sense of place that enhances the play’s themes of home and heritage. Jos N. Banks’ costume designs are vibrant and character-driven, reflecting each individual's inner conflicts and outward personas. Jason Lynch’s lighting design cleverly shifts from naturalistic warmth to eerie supernatural hues, underscoring the play’s tonal shifts. Meanwhile, Willow James’ sound design punctuates the emotional beats with a careful blend of music and ambient sounds that ground the play’s heightened moments.

Phillips’ direction is both deft and sensitive. He embraces the play's comedic elements without undercutting its emotional weight. He crafts a production that honors Ijames’ bold vision while allowing the cast to fully explore the complexities of their characters.

Fat Ham is a triumph—an innovative, riotously funny, and ultimately moving exploration of what it means to break free from the ghosts of the past and forge an authentic future. Whether you're a Shakespeare purist or someone looking for a fresh, contemporary take on a classic story, this production offers something truly special.

With an outstanding ensemble, sharp direction, and a creative team firing on all cylinders, Fat Ham at Goodman Theatre is a must-see theatrical event that redefines what it means to inherit, to resist, and to thine own self be true.

Highly Recommended
When:    Through March 2
Where:  Goodman Theatre, 170 N. Dearborn St.
Tickets:  $25 - $85
Info:     Goodmantheatre.org/Ham

Frolicking season is upon us once again and Joffrey Ballet welcomes summer with the return of Alexander Ekman’s “Midsummer Night’s Dream”. This production was last seen in Chicago in 2018. Told through a mix of ballet and modern dance, this striking and original show nods at both the Swedish holiday and the Shakespeare play.

Joffrey’s “Midsummer Night’s Dream” asks what makes a dream and whether they ever truly end. In two vivid acts, the ballet explores one man’s dreams on the eve of the summer equinox. Much like “The Nutcracker”, the protagonist is whisked away to a fantastical dance party in his sleep.

The ballet opens with a rather literal roll in the hay that elicits the feeling of young love. Much of the first act takes place in this pastoral setting as the young lovers prepare for the Midsummer holiday. The visual spectacle created by flying hay paired with the original score by Mikael Karlsson is immediately mesmerizing. Though haunting live vocals provided by Swedish pop superstar Anna von Hausswolff really help the music soar to the Christmas light-adorned rafters. The first act’s peaceful feeling billows right off the stage as the protagonist, and the audience are jarred back to reality, left craving just a few more minutes of beauty sleep.

Act II is decidedly more mature. If the first act is about first love, the second act is about erotic love. The triumphant music of Act One is replaced with a stucco, semi-industrial sound. Elements of danger and dread are introduced through nightmarish imagery and shadowing. The dance is harsher, dispensing with the feathery ballet movements and going for a more tribal aesthetic.

Perhaps nothing is as transfixing however as the all-nude ballet complete with simulated sex and giant fish. Dreams don’t have to make sense. In the psychosexual nightmare, time is elastic, and after its eventual climax, we’re looped back to the ballet’s first image, showing the perpetuity of our dream cycles.

As an internationally acclaimed dance institution, expectations are always high for Joffrey Ballet, and in turn they do not disappoint. “Midsummer Night’s Dream” is stylish and sexy. Joffrey has a way of pushing the envelope, and their work feels daring. Though this is a revival, “Midsummer” feels as fresh as the first love depicted in the first act. The forthrightly erotic imagery and choreography and at times intense scoring are as alluring as they are unsettling. Throw in Anna von Hausswolff’s siren call and you’ll be sucked right into this magical work.

Through May 5 at Joffrey Ballet at Lyric Opera House. 20 N Wacker. (312) 332-2244.

I love all things Shakespeare, particularly modern iterations and adaptations of his works, and I’ve had good experiences with Idle Muse Theatre Company. So naturally when I learned that Idle Muse was mounting a new version of "What the Weird Sisters Saw," I was pretty excited.

Fifteen years ago, when Idle Muse was in its infancy, the company’s Artistic Director Evan M Jackson conceived/created an adaptation of the tragedy "Macbeth" from the perspective of the three witches: "What the Weird Sisters Saw". And now, in 2024, with Tristan Brandon’s assistance and with several of the original actors and crew, Jackson (still Artistic Director at Idle Muse!) has revisited the witches for a complete rework of his haunting fantasy.

Jackson’s Weird Sisters aren’t ‘weird’ in the modern sense of the term, nor are they subject to the Judeo-Christian concept of evil women in league with Satan [we don’t have much truck with lots of Judeo-Christian concepts, particularly those involving women!]. No, Jackson’s Sisters are magical women, druidesses whose connections to the land, to their beloved Scotland and to the forces of Nature allows them to commune with spirits both living and dead; spirits from the present, the past, and the future. Between their provenance with their teacher Hecate and with the powerful forces of open spaces, the Sisters are able to conjure visions of events destined to unfold in the future.

Murron (Caty Gordon), the lead (eldest? strongest? she’s definitely the leader here) is having premonitions; by the pricking of her thumbs, she’s convinced that something wicked this way comes … but what – or who – is it? Her Sisters Dana (Jennifer Mohr) and Alastriona (Jamie Redwood) share her disquiet and together they concoct a potion to explore the mystery. They find riddles surrounding Macbeth, Thane of Glanis and brave Scots general under King Duncan; they prophesy Macbeth (stunningly played by Joel Thompson) will wear Duncan’s crown, but that future kings will be descended from his friend and fellow general Banquo (Troy Schaeflein) … and we all know how Macbeth feels about this notion.

Dissatisfied with mere augury, Murron becomes obsessed with not simply divining the future, but altering the actions she’s foretold. Sisters Dana and Alastriona are less sanguine, but they respect Murron and, despite their reservations, they follow her lead as she repeatedly conjures the shades of Macbeth, Banquo, and others. As Macbeth’s avarice becomes undeniable, Murron seeks to refashion his machinations and thus to redeem him. Joel Thompson rocks the role of the dark Thane, portraying an aspect of innate royalty – the gleam of nobility divined by the Sisters– that is curiously not at odds with the audience’s foreknowledge of his wickedness. Of course, despite Murron’s interventions, that wickedness gradually escalates, and the noble Macbeth forges his own doom.

Brendan Hutt is superb as The Porter, whose sporadic appearances both entertain and enlighten … though, actually, not so much with the latter, as his inebriated proclamations are not only veiled by his jocularity but are often, frankly, evasive. Frustration amplifies Murron’s unease; yet the greater the perplexity, the stronger the fascination – we all know how that works! Thus, she is lured ever deeper into the mind and motives of Macbeth, her increasingly reluctant Sisters trailing in her wake. Both Dana (Jennifer Mohr) and Alastriona (Jamie Redwood) become more distinctive in their caution of Murron’s inquest, allowing each actor to further display her skill – did I already say the cast is overall superb?

Case in point: Mara Kovacevic’s sterling portrayal of Macbeth’s not-so-sterling wife. Initially Lady Macbeth, recognizing that the witches are at cross purposes with her vaulting ambition, appears to be deliberately misleading the Sisters. No less baffling is the Lady’s descent into madness, and she further mystifies the Sisters with her macabre hand-washing and eerie mutterings. It’s so interesting to watch this play where we know the storyline of its progenitor, yet are totally absorbed with the Sisters’ nescience!

Hecate (Elizabeth MacDougald) is often onstage, covertly overseeing her acolytes, but unlike Murron she doesn’t intervene. Rather, Hecate allows Murron’s – all the Sisters’ – cabal to evolve, likewise its grisly human consequences. Only at the bloody finale does Hecate reveal herself to her subordinates and upbraid their presumption. I’m sorry we didn’t hear more from Hecate, as MacDougald was a compelling Goddess of Magic, one I’d like to have known better. Likewise, Troy Schaeflein (Banquo) also left me hungry for more of his brilliant stage presence. The story provided more opportunity for us to enjoy Watson Swift’s performance as Macduff, and Erik Schnitger as Duncan and Orion Lay-Sleeper’s Malcolm also used their limited stage time well. I’ll say it again: overall, the cast was exemplary, and each gave fine performances.

The cast was displayed by an equally amazing production crew; they were marvelous as a whole, but I must give a shoutout to a few remarkable aspects. Jennifer Mohr’s costumes were striking and accurate. Most productions I’ve seen of "Macbeth" dress the Scotsmen in kilts, but the ‘kilt’ as we know it today did not actually appear until the late 18th century, having evolved from the feileadh mor (‘big wrap’) that was characteristic in the 15th to 16th centuries; and Mohr outfitted her Scots in feileadh. I also noted that the doctor wore a plague mask, as the Black Death was a consistent threat across Europe at the time. Thank you, Jennifer Mohr, for your due diligence! And I loved The Porter’s criss-crossed belts of dangling fetishes and charms. I could have sworn I spied the head of a Barbie doll in there – if so, I forgive the anachronism in deference to Ryan Gosling’s Oscars gig. I must also offer lavish kudos to Laura Wiley and L.J. Luthringer for lighting & projection and music & sound (respectively). The collaboration of these two artists contrived both light and sound into actual cast members, so effectively did they ‘speak their lines’ of atmosphere, ambience, and tonality. Bravo!

The excellence of the fighting was no surprise to me – after all, violence designer (and assistant director) Libby Beyreis is a member of Babes with Blades Theatre Company, Chicago’s very own troupe of Weird Sisters. And I thought it appropriate for Tristan Brandon to oversee the properties; the co-adaptor of the play would have an intuitive ken [still got Gosling on the brain!] for the objects required. Stina Taylor and Breezy Snyder wisely composed a minimalist set, allowing the story to unfurl via the performances rather than through static objects. As a fervent aficionado of Chicago’s Black Box theatres, I appreciate the challenges these spaces pose for set design and was pleased to see Birnam Wood plausibly wrought without hindering the (considerable!) action.

My sole concern is one common to many – most? – Shakespearean productions: the complexity of the language often made it difficult for me to hear the lines. Granted, that difficulty is partially mine – gotta love getting older! – but some may, I hope, be remediable. For example, further rehearsals and performances will give Luthringer time to fine-tune sound levels to ensure the voices are not eclipsed – but please! without effacing any of the incredible music and … well, noises.

Elizabethan England, William Shakespeare, and the play "Macbeth" are all imperatively and inescapably masculine. With "What the Weird Sisters Saw" Jackson has toppled this patriarchy at its base: sorry fellas, that was then, this is now and it’s a women’s show! The gender imparity created thereby is vital and I wouldn’t want it attenuated in any way.

The script was extremely dense and might benefit from judicious editing. At times I felt the actors were almost tripping over their own tongues in their effort to deliver every word at a brisk (not to say breakneck) pace.
Perhaps Jackson, with text & dialect coach Carrie Hardin, could address all these matters by slowing everything down just a wee bit. The occasional judicious 1-2 second pause would give my poor old brain a chance to travel between then and now, between male and female.

Such a complex production needed all the work of stage manager Becky Warner and her assistant Lindsey Chidester, technical director Line Bower, production manager Shellie DiSalvo, dramaturg Cori Lang, and all the dozens of other people required to bring a vision before the footlights. It takes a village!

Highly recommended, "What the Weird Sisters Saw" will play at The Edge Off-Broadway Theatre through April 14, 2024.

From Twelfth Night’s well-known opening lines “If music be the food of love, play on …,” the stage is set for Shakespeare’s madcap comedy of misplaced love and mixed-up identities. Woven throughout this production are the colors, culture, and Caribbean-inspired music that play almost as important a role as the actors on stage.

There are those who prefer their Shakespeare straight up and true to the Bard’s written word and intended setting. I, however, am not one of them. I enjoy seeing Shakespeare’s plays reimagined and reset into different settings and time periods, and I was thoroughly enchanted and entertained by director Tyrone Phillips’ interpretation of Twelfth Night.

In his debut as a director at Chicago Shakespeare Theatre, Phillips brings his personal background to the stage as a first-generation Jamaican America. The island kingdom of Shakespeare’s Illyria comes to life under Phillips’ direction as a Caribbean paradise, complete with swaying palm trees, a sandy shore, and a reggae-inspired beat that pulses throughout the show.

There’s no way you can leave the theatre without a smile on your face, as if you’ve just been on a mini-vacation.

We first meet the Duke Orsino, played by Yao Dogbe, a talented veteran of Chicago Shakespeare, lamenting his unrequited love for Countess Olivia, who has declared a seven-year period of mourning for her brother. The duke’s emissaries have all been rejected, and he is at wit’s end.

That is, until a spectacular storm at sea deposits the young Viola, aptly played by Jaeda LaVoone in her debut at Chicago Shakes, on the beach of Illyria. Believing that her twin brother, Sebastian, has drowned in the storm, she disguises herself as a young lad, Cesario, and seeks employment with the duke. There’s something about the well-spoken Cesario that prompts the duke to send him to Olivia to proclaim the duke’s love to her.

Viola is immediately smitten by the duke, but vows to serve her master, and so as Cesario, goes off to see Olivia, wonderfully played by Christiana Clark. Craziness ensues as Olivia becomes love-struck with Cesario, and comically, Viola finds herself trying to extract herself from this awkward love triangle.

Throw into the mix the subplot of characters, led by Olivia’s uncle, Sir Toby Belch, (Ronald L. Conner), and his sidekick, Sir Andrew (Alex Goodrich), who plot to prank the uptight Malvolio, Olivia’s stalwart steward, by leading him to believe that his mistress is deeply in love with him. Add the surprise appearance of Olivia’s twin, Sebastian, who in actuality also survived the shipwreck, and the series of mistaken identities that result add to the chaotic comedy.

 But, as with all Shakespeare’s comedies, all is resolved in the final scenes. Brother and sister are reunited. The Duke and Olivia, at last, find their true loves (and not with each other!), and even the mistreated Malvolio realizes that “everyone is fragile,” and makes his peace with his adversaries.

The production is a homecoming of sorts for Phillips, who first visited Chicago Shakespeare as a teen and later performed on its stage in A Midsummer’s Night Dream.  He has assembled a talented group of predominantly African-American actors who bring an energy and authenticity to the show. For me, the performances by Clark’s Olivia and Paul Oakley Stovall’s Malvolio stood out. Clark’s Olivia is bold, beautiful, and determined to win Cesario’s love. I was captivated by her larger-than-life presence whenever she was on stage. And Stovall shines as the puritanical prude, Malvolio, who underscores his performance with a subtle gesture or a raised eyebrow.

From the opening scene where Olivia’s jester Feste (Israel Erron Ford) invites islanders to stroll with him to a reggae-inspired beat to the curtain-call where the entire cast dances to that same exuberant rhythm, Twelfth Night is an energetic, joyous, laugh-out loud romp that is sure to entertain – a perfect escape for a couple hours from the holiday stress.

You can still get in on the fun as Chicago Shakespeare extended its run through Dec. 3.  

CYMBELINE? CYMBELINE?? I’d not even heard of Shakespeare’s CYMBELINE. Wikipedia admits it’s “one of Shakespeare’s lesser-know plays”. There’s a great deal of speculation on the whys and wherefores of its obscurity but now I know the answer: CYMBELINE has remained largely unknown because it hadn’t yet been played by Midsommer Flight.

There’s debate over CYMBELINE’s genre – tragedy? comedy? romance? – but Midsommer Flight’s Director (and founder) Beth Wolf is absolutely certain: CYMBELINE is a comedy, and a hilarious one! While staying true to the original script, she has directed the (superb) actors to make it incredibly funny by via expressions, postures, and gestures.

The storyline is as simple and convoluted as all The Bard’s plays. King Cymbeline (Barry Irving) lost his sons Arvirargus (Juliet Kang Huneke) and Guiderius (Logan UhiwaiO’Alohamailani Rasmussen), kidnapped in infancy and raised by Belarius (Jessica Goforth). Cymbeline is therefore determined to get a true-born prince by marrying his daughter Imogen (Ashley Graham) to dreadful prince Cloten (John Drea), royal son of his Queen (Talia Langman). Imogen, however, has fallen in love with and secretly married a commoner who was orphaned at birth and therefore named Posthumous (Keenan Odenkirk) [and they wonder if this is a comedy??]. King Cymbeline learns of the nuptials and banishes Posthumous to Italy, leaving Imogen to fend off the loathsome advances of nasty little Prince Cloten.

Meanwhile, the evil Queen plots to murder both Imogen and Cymbeline using a deadly poison concocted by Doctor Cornelius (Jillian Leff), But Cornelius, no stoopnagel, suspects funny business (the wrong kind) and hands over a harmless sleeping draft. The Queen passes the potion to Imogen & Posthumus’ loving servant Pisanio (Bradley Halverson), telling her it’s a medicine.

In Italy Posthumous meets Iachimo (Shane Novoa Rhoades), a dodgy sort of bloke with whom the gullible (not to say rather thick) Posthumous makes a most imprudent wager: Iachimo bets that he can seduce Posthumous’ wife Imogen snicker-snatch (erm … sorry, snicker-snack). Imogen retains her virtue, but Macho Man Iachimo can’t accept being trounced (Italian, remember?), and presents false evidence of her capitulation to Posthumous.

When Pisiano (the faithful servant who everyone confides in} tells Imogen of Iachimo’s treachery the irate young princess determines to find Posthumous and set the record straight. Imogen shows herself smarter than her boo by dressing as a boy for safer travel. She christens her trans self Fidele, for faithful.

Etcetera, etcetera, and so forth. I don’t think it’s much of a spoiler to disclose that, after various sophistry, skullduggery, knavery and chicanery, everyone is reunited, reinstated, and restored. All the bad guys are foiled, and a happy ending is had by all – all the good guys, any road.

Typical Shakespeare, yeah?

Jillian Leff as Doctor Cornelius in Midsommer Flight's 'Cymbeline'.

What’s not so typical is Midsommer Flight’s management of this gallimaufry.

This is the third year I’ve reviewed a Midsommer Flight production and I’ve been consistently impressed, but CYMBELINE was more than impressive – it was truly awesome.

Founded in 2012, it is Midsommer Flight’s mission to bring quality, accessible performances of Shakespeare to Chicago communities. Accessible is key here: too many people don’t bother to even try understanding Shakespeare’s vexatious language and convoluted plots. Midsummer Flight makes this intimidating material accessible at several levels: financially by offering all performances for free, culturally by casting diverse artists, textually by working with actors to bring iambic pentameter into comprehensible language, geographically by touring to different areas of the city, and physically by performing in public spaces – specifically, Chicago Parks. I saw CYMBELINE last weekend, July 14, in Gross Park. Each weekend they’ll perform Friday and Saturday night in a different park: Kelvyn Park at Logan Square, Nichols in Hyde Park, Lincoln Park, and Touhy in Rogers Park. Check Midsommer Flight’s website for details.

The performance is prefaced by the actors briefly outlining the plot to orient the audience to the play’s action; this Cliff’s Notes intro was really helpful. Midsummer Flight also offers musical diversion from a troupe of five minstrels (Jessica Goforth, Bradley Halverson, Juliet Kang Hunecke, Jillian Leff, Andi Muriel, and Aloha Rasmussen); there are also a few a capella songs, all composed and directed by Jack Morsovillo.

Scenic and Props Designer Jeremiah Barr manages the problems of an outdoor setting by wisely choosing Less is More. The sets, after all, will travel to several different open-air stages, so he keeps them starkly uncluttered. Likewise, Costume Designer Rachel M Sypniewski makes simple cloaks and mantles that can be donned in a tent, yet vividly distinguish the characters.

CYMBELINE, like all Shakespeare’s plays, includes quite a bit of intimacy and fighting (though the beheading occurs offstage), deftly directed by Maureen Yasko, Jillian Leff, and Chris Smith. Stage Manager Hazel Marie Flowers-McCabe, with assistant Ayla Sweet, keep the proceedings vigorous and vivacious without degenerating into pandemonium.

Special kudos to Text Coach Meredith Ernst! As I said earlier, making iambic pentameter comprehensible is a major problem with Shakespeare, but in CYMBELINE I heard and understood virtually every word. And congratulations, of course, to Director Beth Wolf and Assistant Christina Casano, who transformed an undistinguished and ambiguous play into a thoroughly successful comedy.

The actors, of course. They made innuendos and improper phrases irresistibly funny, using facial expressions, posture, gesture, and all the other tricks in an actor’s toolbox. A special shout-out is due to Jillian Leff, who made the stodgy Doctor thoroughly waggish. It takes a gifted actor to have the audience howling through her report from of the Queen’s deathbed.

Bradley Halverson’s Pisanio was also prime. Shakespeare doesn’t usually give much stage time to menial characters, but Pisiano was a key role, juggling allegiances from all-powerful King and Queen to beloved Imogen and Posthumous. 

My absolute favorite was John Drea as the ghastly prince Cloten. His comedic gestures hovered perilously close to slapstick – jumping up and down and shaking his fists like a tantruming toddler – but he remained safely high camp without descending into pratfall – hysterically funny but never Three Stooges.

Comedy was amplified by the actors often playing directly to the audience, winking to bring us in on a joke or making us complicit with an aside. This can be difficult to manage without breaking character or disrupting flow, but this cast pulled it off without a bobble – good work, Casting Director Karissa Murrell Myers!

Well, that’s about it for my review. In short: CYMBELINE by Midsommer Flight is absolutely marvelous – see it!! It’s playing through August at various Chicago Parks – find the one you want to visit and bring lawn chairs and a picnic, like at Ravinia.

But wait just a tic: in these perilous times I needs must append some commentary.

As MAGA condemns drag shows and bans books, they would do well to wipe the shelves of Shakespeare, for his plays are rife with gender fluidity. At the Globe all female parts were, of course, played by cross-dressing males, who enacted romance and desire with the other male actors – men kissing men right there on the stage OMG! Gender-swapping characters, like Imogen/Fidele in Cymbeline, are key in As You Like It, Merry Wives of Windsor, The Merchant of Venice, and of course Twelfth Night. Gender is also critically explored in tragedies like Hamlet and Othello, and Lady Macbeth’s dominance over her husband is totally discordant with societal expectation. Her cry, “Unsex me!” hints that Shakespeare found much amiss in Elizabethan society's dictum of “the natural order”.

Same-sex romance is acceptable in Shakespeare as well. In Twelfth Night, Duke Orsini falls in love with the young man Cesario, but is undismayed when ‘he’ is revealed as Viola (though he continues to refer to her as ‘boy’ during his proposal). Boy, girl … whatever, he wants it. His wife Olivia also falls for Cesario, largely because she admires ‘his’ feminine ways, and when she marries Viola’s twin Sebastian (believing him to be Cesario/Viola), he assures her that, like ’Cesario’, he is ‘both maid and man’.

The Buggery Act of 1530 made sodomy a capital offense and punishable by death, defining the rigid expectations of heterosexuality. Still, 17^th century England saw many examples of same-sex relationships: King James I and King William III, for example, each had several male lovers. We can assume that what went on in the King’s chambers was also happening in less august beds. After all, gender fluidity was a cornerstone of the Elizabethan rule. In her oration to the troops gathered to fight the Spanish Armada Elizabeth says, “I know I have the body but of a weak and feeble woman; but I have the heart and stomach of a king, and of a king of England ....” Good ol’ Liz. I’ve always liked her.

In high school I was fascinated with Henry VIII and his desperate attempts to wring a healthy boy from his pox-ridden testicles. Then his daughter, the child he disowned and condemned (not to mention orphaned) goes on to become one of England’s most revered sovereigns. Take that Henry, you misogynistic, mistaken, misanthropic, myopic, misguided monomaniacal monarch! I’ve always loved that by the time he got to his sixth wife Henry was actually henpecked – though his brain was tapioca by then; he may not even have noticed.

But I digress.

SEE CYMBELINE!! Even if … especially if you don’t like Shakespeare.

MidsommerFlight is a not-for-profit theatre company committed to presenting Shakespeare’s plays to everyone in an IDEA manner: Inclusive, Diverse, Equitable, and Accessible; and to bringing the Shared Joy that results to underserved communities about Chicago.

MidsommerFlight has staged productions of ‘As You Like It’, ‘The Tempest’, ‘Macbeth’, ‘Hamlet’ and others, in various parks around the city. TWELFTH NIGHT has been its Holiday production since 2015 (skipping 2020) and is held in the lush Chicago Conservatory. Admission is pay-what-you-can (suggested donation $30).

Though TWELFTH NIGHT is MidsommerFlight’s perennial production, directors are rotated to offer a range of conceptual approaches to the comedy. This year’s Director, Bex Ehrmann (they/them) is queering up the Bard with a cast of diverse, trans and non-binary actors of various and sundry genders, races [albeit all human], and body types. Jack Morsovillo (he/him/his) is the Musical Director.  

The basic plot is (relatively, for Old Will) simple: twins Viola and Sebastian are separated when their ship is wrecked. Then as ever, it’s hard for women to find a good job, so Viola undergoes non-surgical gender reaffirmation, renames herself Cesario and is hired by bluff and blustering Orsino to woo the Lady Olivia on his behalf. Lady Olivia contrarily falls for Cesario, (who is Viola in disguise), who in turn pines for Orsino … Oy!  Hilarious antics unfold.

Every member of the MidsommerFlight troupe is a superb actor, dancer, and singer, and the cast of TWELFTH NIGHT is extensive. The cast is authentic and features an incredible amount of talent - Rusty Allen (he/him/his, Malvolio), Laurel S. Barrett (she/her/hers, Antonia), John Drea (he/him/his, Orsino), Becca Duff (she/her/hers, Fabian, U/S Feste), Courtney Feiler (she/her/hers, Valentine/Officer/Musician, U/S Olivia), Caleb Gibson (he/him/his, swing, u/s Orsino, Antonio, Sir Toby), Rae Hamilton-Vargo (they/them/theirs, Sebastian, u/s Malvolio), Reginald Hemphill (he/him/his, Sir Toby Belch), North Rory Homewood (he/him/his, Feste), Jessica Love (she/her/hers, Maria), Ebby Offord* (she/they, Olivia), Victoria Olivier (she/her/hers, swing, u/s Viola, u/s Sir Andrew, u/s Sea Captain/Priest/Musician, u/s Curio/Valentine/Officer/Musician), Travis Shanahan (he/him/his, Sir Andrew Aguecheek), Maddy Shilts (they/he, Viola/Cesario), Noelle Simpson (they/them/theirs, swing, u/s Sebastian, Curio, Valentine, Officer, Musician, u/s Sebastian), Natalie Welber (she/her/hers, Sea Captain/Priest/Musician, u/s Maria and Fabian).

The crew is just as superb. Text Captain Bobby Bowman (he/his) makes iambic pentameter accessible to ears still ringing from Janis, Jimi, and Mick, and further manages to enact the story despite ejaculations like “But soft!”  As ever with Shakespeare, the tasks of Fight and Intimacy Directors Thomas Russell (he/his), (Fight), and Charlie Baker (he/they), (Intimacy) tend to overlap.  

Cindy Moon (she/her) does a terrific job with costumes, and the music, composed by Elizabeth Rentfro and Alex Mauney, with additional composition by Music Director Jack Morsovillo along with Becca Duff, Courtney Feiler, North Rory Homewood, Victoria Olivier, McKell Rae, Noelle Simpson, and Natalie Welber is a delight – flutes and lutes and mandolins, oh my! Alyssa Mohn (she/her) (Scenic and Props), exploits the wondrous backdrop of the Chicago Conservatory.  

TWELFTH NIGHT is being performed Thursdays-Sundays through December 18th at the Lincoln Park Conservatory (2391 North Stockton Drive, Chicago).  For tickets, performance times and more show information click here. 

Midsommer Flight is a not-for-profit company that believes ‘Shared Joy and Flights of Fancy’ are for everyone, and that ‘BIPOC, LGBTQ, disabled, gender-diverse and body-diverse people are integral to our community.’ They are therefore the perfect troupe for A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM, and last night was a midsummer night to dream about.

Midsummer Flight does an amazing job with a challenging project: they must make iambic pentameter comprehensible, not to mention audible in an outdoor environment. It’s hard work to perform outdoors with no backstage and with a picnicking audience spread Ravinia-style across the wings, and filling the extensive cast of A MIDSOMMER NIGHT’S DREAM is no picnic. Amazingly, Midsummer Flight not only pulls this off, but they offers it for free, in keeping with their commitment to inclusion.  Last night’s performance was in Lincoln Park, but the troupe rotates across the city, performing all summer in Lincoln Park, Gross Park, Lake Meadows Park, Chicago Women’s Park & Gardens, and Touhy Park.

A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM is one of Shakespeare’s most beloved comedies. The play intermingles several subplots, centering on the wedding of Duke Theseus of Athens to the Amazon queen Hippolyta. Three other couples are involved: Hermia, whose uncle Theseus opposes her match with Lysander; and her best friend Helena, who loves Demetrius – who fancies Hermia!  Then there’s the third pair of lovers:  Oberon, King of the Faeries and his majestic Queen, Titania.  And ass if this isn’t enough mayhem, we also have a troupe of actors: Snug, Snout, Quince, Francis Flute and Bottom, who refers to the troupe as a band of ‘rude mechanicals’.

The real trouble starts when King Oberon orders his playful minion Puck, a "shrewd and knavish sprite" to create a potion which, when applied to the eyelids of a sleeping person, will make them fall in love with the first living thing they see.  Oberon wants to make Demetrius return Helena’s love, but Puck mistakenly gives the elixir to Lysander, who obligingly falls in love with Helena, much to Hermia’s dismay. Puck then comes upon the actors rehearsing their play and assumes Bottom’s name to be synonymous with Ass, so he transforms Bottom’s head into that of a jackass. 

Meantime, Oberon is angry with his wife Titania, who won’t give him her lovely Indian changeling. Convinced by these experiments with mortals, he uses the magic potion on her.  Sure enough, Titania awakens to the countenance of Bottom. While she lavishes devotion on the donkey-headed actor, Oberon gleefully absconds with the lovely changeling boy. 

Okay, have you got all that? The play continues to embellish, elaborate, and obfuscate this tangle of subplots into a hilarious rumpus.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM. It’s always delightful:  a forest full of faeries and infatuated folks; what’s not to love? But Midsommer Flight’s production of this old favorite was particularly enchanting. Their mission is evident in its delightfully diverse cast and their success eminently warranted by their talent and craft. Joshua Pennington is a regal (and gorgeous!) Oberon, a terrific foil for Meredith Ernst’s Titania. Manny Sevilla as Demetrius is a terrific comedic partner to Richard Eisloeffel’s Lysander, and Hermia (Alice Wu) and Helena (Koshie Mills) shine as alternating bosom buddies and fierce rivals.  Jack Morsovillo is engaging as Bottom, and his crew Hannah Mary Simpson (Snug), Elizabeth McAnulty Quilter (Snout), Travis Shanahan (Francis Flute), Kat Zheng (Starveling) and Barry Irving (Quince) are marvelous. In the fictional troupe’s performance of Pyramus and Thisbe, I’m not sure which of them played the part of Wall, but it was brilliant. These actors also play Titania’s faerie retinue Cobweb, Mustardseed, Moth and Peasebottom, respectively.

[BTW, it’s an extensive cast and most of the actors play multiple roles, so if I’ve gotten any names awry I deeply apologize!  You can refer to the program here.]

No, I haven’t forgotten Puck, I’m simply saving the best for last. Puck is usually a favorite character, but Ebby Offord is an exceptionally enchanting Puck and brings special charm to the character of that naughty little pixie. Her frolicsome performance is a lagniappe for a character that’s already prized.

OK, I’m wearing out the thesaurus here, and I need to save a few superlatives for production staff.  Director/Founder Beth Wolf has brought Midsommer Flight triumphantly through a decade of productions. Assistant Director Devin Christor prefers to focus on “plays that explore tests of morality in the human experience.” Stage Manager Hazel Marie Flowers-McCabe and her assistant Anna Zaczek , with Scenic/Props Designer Nina Castillo-D’Angier have their work cut out for them, working without a stage! but they pull it off brilliantly, wisely keeping sets and props to an absolute minimum. The same spare approach works perfectly for Costumer Lily Grace Walls – particularly as the actors covering multiple roles must change in the open. Production Manager Giselle Durand ‘relishes diversity and strives to be a theatrical Swiss-army knife’, which is precisely what is needed for this sort of production. Lane Anthony Flores and Amy Malcom as Text and Vocal Coaches do a great job helping the actors make sixteenth-century English accessible.  The cast shows terrific physical comedy, thanks to Fight Director Chris Smith, who has been with Midsommer Flight from its inception, and Assistant Fight & Intimacy Director Maureen Yasko, a member of Babes with Blades.

The Bottom [sic] line here:  Recommended! Bring chairs/blankets and a picnic, and don’t bother with a babysitter – the show moves fast enough that the kids won’t need to understand this play to love it.