Based on the novel by Junot Díaz, The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao follows neurodivergent and perpetually lovelorn college student Oscar as he fixates on the fukú – a generational curse he believes has haunted his family’s love lives for decades. Oscar’s college roommate and his sister Lola by his side, the trio journeys to Santo Domingo, uncovering more about Oscar and Lola’s family history and the fukú than none of them bargained for.

At the heart of the story is the trio of Oscar (Lenin D’Anthony Izquierdo), Yunior (Kelvin Grullon), and Lola (Julissa Calderon), who are as messy, spirited, and loving as three college kids can be. Their chemistry feels genuinely lived-in: the easy humor, the sharp edges, the quiet loyalties. Their dynamic perfectly captures the complexities of chosen family, blurred boundaries, and sibling devotion, all while keeping the audience constantly laughing. 

While often sharp and funny, Oscar and Lola’s mother, Beli (Yohanna Florentino), delivers the production’s most devastating performance. She embodies the tension of someone trying – fiercely, desperately – to do right by her children, yet repeatedly falling short. Florentino’s performance is astonishingly intimate; even in a full theatre, she makes it feel as though her pain is being shared one-on-one with each audience member.

The show – especially in its first act – is funny, self-aware, and unabashedly camp. Although set among college-aged characters in the 1990s, Director Wendy Mateo has made the show feel timeless and accessible to audiences of all ages. The script incorporates a significant amount of Spanish, most often through colloquial phrases and biting insults, yet the cast’s physicality and clarity ensure that no translation is required to follow the emotional stakes. It’s a compelling reminder that audiences don’t need to speak Spanish to fully appreciate bilingual storytelling when the performances are this grounded.

Where the production occasionally stumbles is in its visual storytelling, particularly once the setting shifts to Santo Domingo. The scenic design’s abstract, college-forward aesthetic serves the first half well, but meshes less cohesively with the production’s second act shift into heightened spiritual and video game-inspired imagery. This evolution also introduces more disruptive set transitions – unlike the fluid, almost invisible shifts of Act One, several Act Two changes require full stops in the action, interrupting momentum and dampening the pacing. At its best, the projections and gaming motifs cleverly mirror Oscar’s inner grasp of reality and the story’s mythic foundation. At their weakest, however, they overtake the truly human stakes at the center of the narrative.

One moment in particular – a key story from Beli’s past – is partially rendered through animation and projection rather than live performance. Given the emotional precision already established onstage, the stylistic shift feels jarring and unintentionally distances the audience from what should be an intimate revelation. The production’s reliance on heightened, game-like aesthetics resurfaces in later confrontations as well, occasionally pushing character choices toward exaggeration at moments that call for gravity. The result is a tonal imbalance that slightly undercuts the weight of the story’s final turns.

While the stage adaptation diverges in notable ways from the novel, the production stands strongest when viewed as its own interpretation rather than a strict retelling. That said, the emotional core of Oscar’s story remains intact and, by the final moments, the theatre is silent enough to hear a pin drop – a testament to the emotional weight the cast ultimately earns.

The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao is running in The Goodman’s Owen Theatre through April 12th. Tickets are available at https://www.goodmantheatre.org/show/the-brief-wondrous-life-of-oscar-wao/.

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

As a longtime comedy fan, seeing a show at Second City has been on my bucket list for years, so when the opportunity to attend Black and Highly Flavored came up, I jumped at it. That excitement, however, was paired with some hesitation: I questioned whether I was the right person to review a show rooted in experiences I do not personally share. By the end of the night, after laughing until I cried, those concerns were completely put to rest.

At a time when diversity in comedy too often comes at the expense of BIPOC performers rather than celebrating their lived experiences, Black and Highly Flavored stands out as a rare gem. Now in its fourth year as Second City’s Black Excellence Revue, the show is a sharp and joyful two-act performance that blends sketch comedy, improv, music, and dance to uplift Black artists while remaining accessible, engaging, and enjoyable – and even relatable – for everyone in the audience.

Jam-packed from start to finish, this comedy show includes upwards of 20 sketches, ranging in length from a few minutes to as short as 15 seconds. The content of the skits is just as wide-ranging, pulling from everything from 70s laugh-track sitcoms to ChatGPT, and from John Steinbeck to Janet Jackson. With such varied material, it’s inevitable that not every joke lands with every audience member; however, the lightning-fast pacing of the show means that even if a joke doesn’t land for you, the show has already moved on to its next laugh.

Not only are the scripted parts of the show hilarious, but it also features improvisation at many points throughout the night. Black and Highly Flavored is particularly smart about how and where improv is incorporated, utilizing the famously divisive style of comedy to connect with the audience through tailored, rapid-fire one-liners, maintaining the polish of the longer, scripted skits.

Under the direction of Julia Morales, the six-person cast is stellar, and each actor truly brought their own distinct charm to the show. Tyler Vanduvall delivers off-the-charts physical comedy to the stage, throwing himself – sometimes literally – into every role, human or not. Kimberly Michelle Vaughn wears her heart on her sleeve on stage, exuding talent and joy, as she sings, dances, and laughs like no one is watching. Lauren Walker’s characterization is unmatched, making every one of her (many, many) roles just as animated and memorable as the last. EJ Cameron engages with the audience like no other, skyrocketing the intimacy of the show through his charisma alone. Jillian Banks is spunky and larger-than-life, adding both laughs and layers to any scene she’s in. Last, but certainly not least, is Jason Tolliver: the improv king of the night. Tolliver is sharply funny – and he knows it – allowing his genuine self-amusement to shine through on stage, making you laugh first at the joke, and then again at his reaction to himself.

Although not technically complicated, Black and Highly Flavored’s production was incredibly well planned and curated. Every lighting cue, sound effect, prop, and costume felt perfectly curated to the skit without overwhelming the show. The use of screens on stage was balanced well to be additive, rather than taking away from the joys of real-life theatre by being overbearing. The production from start to end was incredibly well-paced, void of any painful transitions or dead moments. This is undoubtedly a team effort but could not have been accomplished without Music Director and live musical performer Cesar Romero, who both beautifully and comedically underscored the whole evening. Add to that an in-your-seat food and drink menu, and Second City’s UP Comedy Club might just have it all!

Black and Highly Flavored is running at Second City’s UP Comedy Club on Thursdays and Fridays through March 20th. Tickets are available at www.secondcity.com/shows/chicago/the-second-city-black-excellence-revue-chi.

A quick disclaimer for this review: Couch Penny Ensemble's Everybody, by Branden Jacobs-Jenkins, is written with a caveat for anyone who dares to perform it. At the start of each performance, the actors are randomly assigned their roles by lottery, creating 120 possible cast combinations. In other words, the Everybody I saw will likely not be the Everybody you see. This structure demands something borderline absurd from its cast: each actor must memorize the entire script, remain flexible until the show closes, and sacrifice the comfort of traditional rehearsals.

What’s more astonishing is that the performance I saw was effectively unrehearsed yet never unprepared. It was incredible, and knowing it was done only once, just for this audience, is an experience you can’t get anywhere else. Rather than feeling unpolished or improvisational, the production felt confident, precise, and alive—a balance that speaks not only to the performers’ skills but also to the steady hand of director Greta Mae Geiser. It is the kind of theatrical gamble that only Jacobs-Jenkins would demand—and that only the right creative team could successfully meet.

For my production, the role of Everybody was played by Renzo Vincente. As the main character, Vincente was nothing short of phenomenal. His facial expressions, genuine tears, and overall emotional execution gave me goosebumps. There was an openness to his performance that made Everybody’s fear, confusion, and longing feel immediate and shared, and he truly left every part of himself on the stage, perfectly portraying everybody.

The rest of the cast – Caitlin Frazier, Jessica Posey, Ellie Duffey, and Dryden Zurawski, the other “Everybodies” – were randomly assigned one of four other roles, each encompassing three distinct characters. These twelve figures function less as traditional “characters” and more as personified concepts, broad, sometimes exaggerated reflections of the forces and relationships that shape everybody’s life. The actors who were not selected to play Everybody must step into their assigned parts with no prior expectation of fit. The result is an entertaining inconsistency that works entirely in the production’s favor: across the twelve roles, there ends up being a spontaneous mix of uncannily fitting performances alongside equally impressive but parodic ones. At any given moment, there is no way to predict who will enter the stage with manic sincerity or with hilariously inflated vanity, but it is clear throughout that each of the five actors possesses the range and control to deliver any role with intention and impact.

An unspecified role is not a prerequisite for a great performance, however, as Everybody also features four additional, standardly cast roles. Even with a fixed assignment, the demands of the show are formidable. The amount of memorization required for Usher (Jodianne Loyd), who establishes the world of the play with omniscient authority, is no easy task. A final shoutout goes to Zay Alexander, who not only delivered a personable performance as Death but also sang and played guitar hauntingly.

By rejecting conventional polish altogether, Everybody makes room for humor, heart, and an unmistakable dedication from its incredible cast.

Everybody is running at Greenhouse Theater Center through December 21st. Tickets are available at https://ci.ovationtix.com/36644/production/1258591.

As someone who is ever the cynic about telling the same old stories every year under the guise of tradition, A Christmas Carol rarely draws me in. Manual Cinema’s latest production, however, takes a Christmas classic and makes it new again. Told through the eyes of a narrator who shares my skepticism, Dickens’ nearly 200-year-old tale becomes something modern and accessible, shaped by humor and a perspective that understands both the fatigue of repetition and the value of returning to the story.

The first Christmas following the loss of her husband, Aunt Trudy finds herself celebrating on Zoom, begrudgingly carrying on his tradition of performing a one-man puppet show of Charles Dickens’ Christmas Carol for his family. Throughout the night, Trudy experiences every stage of grief, struggling to complete the classic story, and is joined by three ghosts (Lizi Breit, Julia Miller, and Jeffery Paschal) who transform the puppetry from a faltering solo obligation into a fluid, ensemble-driven act of storytelling.

Everyone knows that for every moment that appears effortlessly onstage, there’s ten times as much unseen labor happening behind the scenes. In Manual Cinema’s production, however, much of the typically unshown work takes place on stage. Rather than hiding the mechanics of either the puppetry or music, the show invites the audience to watch its intricate systems at work, transforming the process itself into part of the performance.

The immediate set is Aunt Trudy’s half-packed house, allowing us to watch her in the behind-the-scenes reality of her puppet show. Above this is a projector screen that displays Trudy's show from the other perspective of the video call, allowing us to also watch the show as a member of the Zoom. On one side of Trudy’s space is a projection set-up where the three ghost/puppeteers perform what almost looks like a choreographed dance while creating some of the most intricate and beautifully animated visuals I’ve seen – not only are the puppeteers creating these images LIVE, but also while physically performing themselves. On the other side is the pit orchestra, playing live on stage and dressed in typical performance blacks, who feel almost like esemplastic shadow puppets who also provided beautiful instrumental and stunning vocals throughout the show.

At the center of it all – a smart adaptation of a classic, stunning puppetry, and haunting music – is everyone’s new favorite aunt, Aunt Trudy, played by LaKecia Harris. Truly incredible on every level, Harris portrays a grieving widow and beginner puppeteer on the big screen while simultaneously operating as a vital part of the onstage puppeteering machine, grounding the production with warmth, humor, and emotional clarity.

If you’re a fan of A Christmas Carol, then you have to see this show. And, if you’re a bit tired of the old story, this may be exactly what changes your mind.

Manual Cinema’s Christmas Carol is running at Studebaker Theater through December 28th, as well as live streaming the production on select dates. Tickets are available at

https://manualcinema.com/work/christmas-carol-live.

Now in its eighth year, global drag icons and RuPaul’s Drag Race stars BenDeLaCreme and Jinkx Monsoon are back on tour with The Jinkx & DeLa Holiday Show – a hilarious, unhinged, and queer production that pushes the boundaries of the holiday spectacle. The Jinkx & DeLa Holiday Show has touched down in Chicago once again for a limited engagement this time at the storied Chicago Theatre. For one glittering night, the marquee lights up with the names of drag royalty Jinkx Monsoon and BenDeLaCreme, transforming the historic venue into a festive playground of camp, comedy, and holiday magic.

This year’s show – directed, produced, and written by BenDeLaCreme – is structured as a holiday anthology. Each segment spirals into its own brand of festive absurdity: an homage to Freaky Friday, immaculate conception, and hilarious twists on holiday horror a la The Simpsons’ “Treehouse of Horror.” Every story is bigger than the last and more delightfully deranged, featuring Broadway-style musical numbers, both beautiful and creepily extravagant costumes, and innuendo galore. The pace of the night is relentless in the best way possible: each scene seems determined to outdo the last.

While the show returns each year, it’s reborn anew every season. Jinkx Monsoon and BenDeLaCreme craft a completely fresh production - new themes, script, music, choreography, costumes - supported by months of writing and rehearsal. It takes a village of brilliant, authentic artists to pull off such a one-of-a-kind performance that feels both polished and chaotic. The end result is a show that feels handcrafted with love, humor, and both endless glitter and weed.

Fear not - though the production is reinvented from the ground up each year, one beloved constant remains: Hunky the Elf, played with irresistible charm by Gus Lanza. Far from being sidelined, he’s front and center, anchoring the show with his mischievous energy and magnetic stage presence. And he’s not alone. Joining him is a powerhouse dance ensemble—Chloe Albin, Isaiah Brooks, Jace Gonzalez, Jim Kent, Ruby Mimosa, and Derrick Paris—whose precision, athleticism, and sheer joy transform the evening into something far beyond a two-queen comedy showcase. Together, they expand the world of Jinkx and DeLa into a glittering holiday spectacular, complete with dazzling choreography, ensemble-driven spectacle, and the kind of theatrical grandeur that makes the show feel less like a cabaret and more like a full-scale seasonal event. Over the course of the evening, the ensemble shifted seamlessly from jolly to eerie to sultry - and back again - never breaking a sweat. What makes it truly captivating is that each performer brings their own unique flavor to every vignette, ensuring the group’s cohesion never overshadows their individuality.

Of course, at the heart of the chaos is the dynamic duo of Jinkx and DeLa. Their banter is razor sharp, but even in the craziest of moments and wildest twists of plot, the two maintain a warmth and camaraderie that invites their audience into the joke with them.

Even at their most outrageous - and believe me, the outrageousness is abundant - Jinkx and DeLa never lose sight of the heart. They understand that a true holiday show needs more than glitter and gags; it requires a touch of deeper meaning to resonate.

“How do we keep singing and dancing when the horrors persist?” Jinkx asks.

“The horrors are precisely why we must keep singing and dancing,” DeLa answers.

Amid all the silliness and the spectacle, their show is a reminder that queer joy matters. That communal joy matters. That holiday joy matters, and that everyone can find joy in the holidays.

The Jinkx & DeLa Holiday Show is making the yuletide gay with their queer, communal holiday joy across 30 cities throughout the U.S. and Canada until December 30th, offering the perfect blend of camp, chaos, and heart in what is sure to become your new favorite holiday tradition.

For tickets and more information, visit jinkxanddela.com

Let me start by saying: this play is not for anyone unfamiliar with feminine rage. While I’m all for experiential desensitization, diving straight into a show all about female “hysteria,” periods, witches, and penis-biting might be a bit much for your first swim.

You don’t need to be a woman to enjoy it, but there’s a particular subset of audience members who might find themselves squirming in their seats. And that’s fine. Not all art needs to be for everyone. That said, for anyone personally acquainted with (or at least comfortable around) Millennial and Gen-Z “femme fury”, Director Kayla Menz’s production of The Sporting Life is a riot that will have you laughing from beginning to end.

The six-person cast is stellar:

Ziare Paul-Emile – as Dot, the main character and high school girl – shines as she causes the entire play to unfold. Starting off as the sweet, behind-her-peers type, Paul-Emile continues to add on new layers to Dot, masterfully and constantly shifting her conviction. Each shift feels performative in the best way: showing the audience both her growing façade and the fragile, adolescent truth beneath it.

Tyara Whitted – as Dot’s best friend, Mikayla – is one of the funniest actors I’ve seen on stage. Whiteed’s delivery of every line was impeccable, hilarious, and perfectly conveyed her character’s too-eager-to-grow-up nature. Mikayla later finds herself in an abusive relationship, which Whitted handles the material with rare nuance, conveying both the pain and the impossible contradictions of still loving someone who hurts you.

Elizabeth Macdougald – as Sherry, the witch – is an absolute force of nature. Spunky, raunchy, and wickedly funny, Macdougald is the (by technicality) antagonist that you can’t help but love. Although arguably being the source of the play’s chaos, she also grounds it with a mix of blunt and maternal tenderness throughout.

Bryan Breau – as Dot’s dad – is the quintessential bewildered girl dad. Fumbling through his best attempts to understand his daughter, his earnestness carries the father-daughter relationship at the heart of the play.

Last but certainly not least, Ian Mason and Bill Daniel round out the cast, playing every. other. character. Collectively playing at least 8 distinct characters, the duo’s range was incredible. Both Mason’s and Daniel’s physical comedy abilities are like none other, from larger-than-life reactions to painfully believable combat and stunt choreography.

From a production standpoint, I have to give enormous credit to the team’s handling of blood. In case you’ve never worked with it, stage blood is notoriously difficult: just when you think you’ve solved one logistical challenge, five more appear. I have nothing but admiration for the technical crew’s ambition and precision. Most plays save blood for the final moments, so cleanup only happens once, but The Sporting Life opens with a full-on blood spray within the first five minutes. And it just keeps coming.

That commitment is both hilarious and impressive. Not only does it demand careful coordination from the crew, but it also requires the cast to maintain a constant, almost subconscious awareness of every inch of the stage. The blood remains throughout the show, forcing the actors to adapt in real time: lying down carefully to avoid accidental gore in quieter scenes, or using existing puddles to amplify the chaos in violent ones. It’s a masterclass in controlled mess – a game of theatrical chess played with absolute effortlessness.

As the world premiere of Playwright Marjorie Muller’s newest script, there’s definitely room for iteration. The play was advertised as running 1 hour and 40 minutes, but it clocked closer to two hours with no intermission – and I felt it. The ending, in particular, seemed to have an ending tacked onto an ending, creating the sense of a partial conclusion before launching into another. This extended the runtime and diluted some of the sharp focus and wit that made the first two-thirds so strong. Structurally, the piece could benefit from rethinking that final stretch, whether by adding an intermission to give the audience a breather or by condensing and reworking the conclusion into a single, more cohesive ending. Either route would help preserve momentum and leave the show on the high note it earns during the majority of the play.

That said, for a modern, edgy comedy, the writing overall is excellent. One of my biggest pet peeves is when playwrights overdo emotional or “hysterical” female characters, veering into mockery instead of authenticity. Speaking as a former 15-year-old girl: yes, it’s funny to look back and realize how seriously we took small things – but at the time, those things really did feel like the end of the world. The Sporting Life captures that perspective without condescension. It’s a fine line between humor and misogyny, and this play walks it with grace, empathy, and a sharp sense of humor.

The Sporting Life is running at Factory Theater through November 22nd. Tickets are available at: 

https://thefactorytheater.com/portfolio/the-sporting-life/

https://thefactorytheater1.thundertix.com/events/245024. 

More than a haunted house and not quite a play, the House of the Exquisite Corpse series lives somewhere between immersive theater and a live-action episode of Black Mirror.

For the fifth year in a row, Rough House Theater Co. is haunting Steppenwolf's Merle Reskin Garage Theatre with House of the Exquisite Corpse V: BLOOD & PUPPETS. This production-experience hybrid is unsettling, uncanny, and unlike anything else running in Chicago this Halloween season.

The show consists of six puppet performances, each roughly five minutes long, staged in dark, enclosed rooms. Positioned more as voyeurs than viewers, the audience observes each performance through peepholes cut in the room’s walls and listens through headphones. It’s an experience like no other, immersing you in a world entirely, even as you watch it from the outside.

LETTING -Creators Nina D'Angier & Madigan Burke Puppetteer Amandatron 5000.

Although you may be tempted, as I was, to take this year’s blood-and-puppets theme literally, expecting guts and gore, co-directors Felix Mayes and Corey Smith encouraged artists to explore “blood” more metaphorically. The results are striking. Across the six rooms, blood takes many forms: as a symbol of life, decay, lineage, legacy, intimacy, and rupture. Each room also offers a radically different world. One might transport you to the cluttered lab of a deranged scientist, another to a barren, surveilled interior, another to an eerily windswept desert.

The artistry on display is staggering, extending far beyond set design. Each vignette – created by a different team of artists – interprets the theme in personal and provocative ways, resulting in a thrilling range of styles and techniques. The puppetry alone shifts dramatically from room to room, moving from delicate shadow work to oversized, wearable creatures and full-body figures that act like natural extensions of the performer’s body. Some rooms tell tight, plot-driven stories; others are impressionistic and mood-driven, favoring feeling over narrative. Across the board, the performances are intriguing and deeply theatrical – you might come for the scares, but you’ll stay for the craft.

Of course, none of this would be possible without the collective effort of the full production team. The co-directors have built more than a series of puppet shows: they’ve created a platform for experimentation. Puppetry, an art form that’s far too often dismissed and infantilized, takes center stage in House of the Exquisite Corpse, revealing its full expressive range. A space where this kind of work is possible is rare, and Rough House has built one where artists can be unapologetically weird, bold, and free – a testament to what independent theater can be when creators are trusted to follow their wildest ideas.

Whether you're a horror fan, a regular theatergoer, or just looking for something truly unique to do this spooky season, House of the Exquisite Corpse delivers. It may not make you scream, but it will definitely make you squirm.

House of the Exquisite Corpse V: BLOOD & PUPPETS is haunting The Merle at Steppenwolf Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays through November 1. Tickets are available at https://roughhousetheater.com/house-of-the-exquisite-corpse

Before you go, please note that the experience requires walking and standing for extended periods, as well as the use of over-ear headphones. Rough House is committed to accessibility and has made detailed information and request forms available at https://roughhousetheater.com/accessibility.

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

Having followed JJ Niemann’s Broadway career on social media for years, I was especially eager to see him take the lead in Marriott Theatre’s revival of Catch Me If You Can. While social media offers curated glimpses – often in the form of brief, specially selected clips – Niemann proved from the very first moment that his talent extends far beyond a phone screen. As Frank Abagnale Jr (and all of his many alter egos), he delivered remarkable acting, vocals, dance, and charisma, captivating the audience every second of the 2.5-hour show. Put simply, he was flawless, stepping into a role once played by Leonardo DiCaprio on the big screen and making it entirely his own on the Marriott’s stage.

If anyone could have carried the entire production single-handedly, it would have been JJ Niemann – but fortunately, he didn’t have to. Every member of the cast shone on the stage in every aspect, truly making the show a shared success.

Though positioned as Frank’s pursuer and foil, Carl Hanratty (played by Nathaniel Stampley) was endearing in his own gruff way. Amplified by powerhouse vocals and his chemistry with Niemann, Stampley lent real emotional weight to the main character’s cat-and-mouse dynamic. He was supported by a trio of FBI agents (played by Justin Albinder, Alex Goodrich, and Karl Hamilton), each leaning into a distinct, delightfully caricatured 1960s-cop persona that balanced humor with crisp stage presence.

Frank Jr’s parents, Paula and Frank Sr Abagnale (played by Jessie Fisher and Sean Fortunato), were equally memorable, both pairing outstanding vocals with impressive dancing for numerous numbers throughout the production. Fortunato’s descent into drunkenness was one of the best that I’ve ever seen on stage, making it captivatingly painful to watch.

And then there was Brenda Strong (played by Mariah Lyttle), Frank’s love interest and an understated character who is introduced later in the story. In lesser hands, this role may very easily be overshadowed; however, she was unforgettable. With her soaring rendition of “Fly, Fly Away,” Lyttle transformed an incredible, but quiet, presence into one of the evening’s most breathtaking moments.

The ensemble as a whole was excellent, but the women of the cast especially stood out. They cycled through what felt like countless costumes, each one helping chart Frank’s quick pivots from one setting to the next. With every lightning-fast change of outfit and role, they embodied entirely new characters with sharp precision, bringing fresh energy to each scene.

For those unfamiliar with Marriott Theatre, its productions are staged in the round, with the audience on all sides. This format can pose real challenges, from sightline issues to spacing constraints, and often risks making the stage feel cluttered. Layer on top of that a show like Catch Me If You Can, which demands constant shifts in setting, and this could easily be a recipe for disaster. Yet here, the design choices were ingenious.

The main scenic elements were just two benches – retro enough to scream 1960s airport or that could have been pulled from The Jetsons – sitting on a circular track that rotated around the stage. Paired with set pieces that came and went through the aisles, the transitions felt effortless and kept up with the naturally fast pace of the show. When combined with the lighting, costumes, and hair and makeup, everything came together into a strikingly cohesive and thoughtfully designed production. Much credit is due to director Jessica Fisch, whose vision kept all of these moving parts balanced and unified.

It was clear that every detail of this production was carefully planned and executed, and paired with a cast this talented, the result was something truly special. Catch Me If You Can is an absolute must-see, running at Marriott Theatre through October 19th. Tickets are available at https://www.marriotttheatre.com/show/catch-me-if-you-can.

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

As someone who has worked on dozens of productions, both producing and technical directing, before committing to a project, I ask myself: “Why this show? Why now?” 

With 44 The Musical, written, directed, and co-produced by Eli Bauman, I struggled to answer those questions. The show, based on Bauman’s “experience” with Barack Obama’s 2008 presidential campaign, largely came across at best nostalgia and at worst a cash grab, rather than a meaningful theatrical retelling of history.

It’s telling that this production is the vision of a lone, first-time writer-composer-director. The end result did not feel like the product of collaborative creative voices or one that received (or followed) constructive feedback. The musical does have potential. But it feels like it lacked revisions and, more importantly, experienced outside eyes to transform it from a draft into a polished piece of theater.

Satire can be a powerful tool in art, but only when it pairs humor with meaning. 44 The Musical certainly delivers laughs, but too often without a clear purpose, leaving its comedy feeling flat rather than insightful.

A Disjointed Story

The structure of the show is one of its weakest points. Act I offers little resembling a plot, instead playing like a loosely political cabaret. By Act II, the show insists that a story had been there all along: this story centers on Obama’s struggle to pass the Affordable Care Act, being opposed by a cohort of absurd Republicans. This narrative also features a brief detour into the aftermath of Sandy Hook. Much like real life conversations around gun control, this segment led to no change – and in theatrical terms, added little beyond unnecessary emotional whiplash. It left me asking “Why did we go there?” and felt more like an exploitation of an all-too-real issue than rich political commentary.

The finale, which I won’t spoil in detail, invents a moment of self doubt for Barack which, if it had actually happened, would have surely been used to discredit Obama and prevent his second term. Although creative liberties can be necessary, and often successfully entice audiences into historical events, 44’s second act plot largely lacks any grounding in truth and relies on being merely entertaining and outrageous to keep the audience from holding it to fact and actual history.

Missteps in Representation

Perhaps most concerning is the way minority characters – mainly the female and black figures – are written. Satirizing Sarah Palin is predictable and surely not anything new for the audience of an Obama musical. The only other major female characters in the show, however, were also largely satirized, reducing their very real political achievements. Rather than being Secretary of State, Hillary Clinton is reduced to a bitter also-ran, only deviating from this archetype to be the Bill Clinton-wrangler. Most egregious was Michelle Obama’s representation, stripping her of her intelligence, accomplishments, and public persona. Instead, she is framed as a foil – the blacker counterpart to her husband – whose primary motivation is sex with Barack. Although the script does Michelle a disservice, Shanice’s vocals and presence were exceptional, bringing depth and charisma even with so little to work with, compared to the real woman she was portraying.

Credit where credit is due, the musical did justice in representing the very real struggle of Barack’s struggle to balance embracing his racial identity while combating stereotypes that could have squashed his political career. While one can ask whether Bauman was the right voice to write that struggle, the number “How Black Is Too Black?” certainly brought that struggle to the stage.

The Cast Shines

If there is one reason to see 44, it’s the cast. Every performer brought talent, humor, and physicality to the material, truly making the show.

Barack Obama (T.J. Wilkins) embodied the president’s cadence, lanky charm, and understated humor without resorting to mimicry. His rendition of “Remembering Me” was a rare moment of genuine emotional depth in a show otherwise driven by parody.

Joe Biden (Chad Doreck) anchored the show as both narrator and Obama’s loyal sidekick, delivering physical comedy that energized the stage. The Voice of the People (Summer Nicole Greer) also offered powerhouse vocals.

The cohort of Republican antagonists (Mitch McConnell, Sarah Palin, Herman Cain, Lindsey Graham, and Ted Cruz, played by Larry Cedar, Summer Collins, Dino Shorté, Jeff Sumner, and Michael Uribes, respectively), referred to as W.H.A.M. – White Hetero Affluent Men – were also particular standouts. Their performances struck the balance between over-the-top caricature and recognizable reality, making them consistently hilarious and surprisingly sharp. They gave the show some of its most effective satire.

Joy Amid Flaws

Before the curtain rose, co-producers Eli Bauman and Monica Saunders-Weinberg addressed the audience, asking only that we leave having felt “something in short supply these days: joy.” And despite my criticisms, I can honestly say I did feel joy watching this cast at work.

Still, joy alone can’t sustain a new musical. Satire can be a powerful tool in theater, but only when it pairs humor with meaning. 44 The Musical certainly delivers laughs, but too often lacks direction, leaving its comedy feeling shallow rather than resonant. To have a life beyond its current run, the show will need sharper writing, stronger dramaturgy, and above all a clearer purpose — without meaning, satire risks becoming little more than noise.

44 The Musical will be at the Studebaker Theater through September 21st. Tickets are available at https://buytickets.44theobamamusical.com/.