Displaying items by tag: Goodman Theatre

The immensely entertaining and surprisingly complex Bernhardt/Hamlet is a must-see at the Goodman Theatre. A hit at New York's Roundabout Theatre on Broadway last year, it’s very on-trend for contemporary feminist dramas playing out in sports, the workplace, and the arts.

It is also a rather delicious backstage drama, like The Dresser or Noises Off, but has more in common with Kiss Me Kate - another work that used Shakespeare as a plot point. In this case playwright Theresa Rebeck tells the story of Sarah Bernhardt (Terri McMahon) in her quest to play Hamlet – working against the odds, gender, and the advice of critics and colleagues.

"You cannot play Hamlet as an act of ego," says her paramour and devotee, playwright Edmond Rostand (John Tufts.) "All of theater is an act of ego," Bernhard counters, and the audience roars at the delivery and the truth of it. 

"A woman who does nothing is considered worthless," Bernhardt says at another point. "A man who does nothing is Hamlet!." 

And it's a true story that Rebeck makes gripping and fun. (Rebeck also wrote Seminar, a similarly language- and thought-centered work which I had the good fortune of seeing with Alan Rickman.)

In Bernhardt/Hamlet, director Donna Feore uses Rebeck’s script to show actors at work, mining Shakespeare for clues to character, struggling with motivation, and working assiduously to meet the demands of cadence and pace.

Much of the action takes place in Bernhardt’s Paris boudoir, where this attractive woman was waited upon by a coterie of fauning men. But the playful and exuberant Bernhardt never lets the under-fulfilled romance bother her, and Rebeck fends off melodrama by dropping in witty laugh bombs left and right.

"You've decided whether you'll like even before you have seen it," Rostand tells a theater reviewer, Louis Lamercier (William Dick). "Of course! I'm a critic!" Lamercier responds. More laughter. 

The Bernhardt character also takes men to task who would put her on a pedestal, but not really egage her mind. She excoriates playwright Rostand for writing the play, Cyrano de Bergerac, modeling his love interest Roxanne after Bernhardt. "How can you put all your genius into Cyrano and make Roxanne an empty vessel?" she asks. 

One also expects that a play about actors playing Hamlet might have some breakthrough moments of great Shakespeare. Be assured. Wise casting brings us two intensely good, full-fledged Shakespearean performers – as Sarah Bernhardt, Terri McMahon brings a bedrock of 23 years of performances at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival, but has all the range for this dual role.

Larry Yando, in the role of Constant Coquelin, is that world-weary trouper who has played Hamlet four times, but has now aged into the roles of Polonius and Hamlet’s father – and imparts acting advice to the less experienced players. When he turns on the power, it is electrifying. The cast is so good, the production values so high, and the play so entertaining there is only one thing to say: go see it.

Bernhardt/Hamlet is also a familiar story of actresses everywhere, who lose their grasp on major roles for stage or screen as their youth fades. These days actresses like Nicole Kidman, Selma Hayek, and Emma Thompson are defying this by successfully producing projects or scripts themselves.

And so did Sarah Bernhardt, and she did it way back in 1896. One of the first international celebrities, she achieved her global fame in analog: acting on stage, celebrated in newspapers, and promoted by posters and by word of mouth.

She was also the most prominent serious actor, among a handful, who successfully took her stage skills to the new medium of film, in 1900. That’s where the collective memory of my generation picks up on her. During her last quarter century and after, the term “Sarah Bernhardt” suggested a cross between an immensely talented stage beauty, who was also a diva – in other words, she knows her power, and how to use it. 

This is the character we meet in Rebeck's play. As she hit fifty, Bernhardt tired of playing Camille, her signature role – and she knew she was too old for the part, so she decided to try Hamlet. A master of her own fate, in 1893 Bernhardt became the manager of the Théâtre de la Renaissance, and in 1899 she relocated to the former Théâtre des Nations, which she renamed the Théâtre Sarah Bernhardt and managed until her death in 1923. 

"I am not a tragic figure," Rebeck's Bernhardt asserts. "I do not play Hamlet as a woman. I play him as myself." And you can see Bernhardt/Hamlet through October 20 at Goodman Theatre.

Would you be able to spot a person in trouble? Lucas Hnath’s new play “Dana H” is a fascinating look at what the seedy underbelly of America may be (or sound) like. Goodman Theatre gives this unique new drama its Chicago premiere with direction by Les Waters. 

“Dana H” is part documentary, part one-woman show and yet still doesn’t neatly fit into either category. Lucas Hnath is arguably one of the country’s most imaginative playwrights working today.  In this new play he explores the kidnapping and torture of his mother in the late 90s. It’s a period of his mother’s life that they admittedly avoid discussing. In fact, he himself did not conduct the interviews that led to the creation of the play. Through pieced together bits of an extensive interview between the real Dana H (Dana Higgenbotham) and Steven Cosson, a true story of harrowing survival and compassion unfolds. 

Deirdre O’Connell portrays Dana in a way never-before seen in mainstream theatre. Most actors rely on their voice to find the character, but in this play O’Connell remains silent. Her task is to provide the body and mannerisms as she lip-syncs to interview tapes of Higgenbotham. While the device is somewhat jarring at first, O’Connell seamlessly becomes Dana H and you easily forget it’s not her own voice. 

“Dana H” is a true testament to Dierdre O’Connell’s skills as an actress. In her Goodman debut she’s given the task of physical theatre. She’s so natural as Higgenbotham that she even adjusts her jewelry as Higgenbotham had done on the interview tapes. A glance at how much compassion an actress must have for their character as well as how many times she had to listen to the grizzly tapes to get the gestures down.  

But “Dana H” is more than just a “48 Hours” with a gimmick. It’s a story about how involved we get with strangers. Dana is a hospice chaplain. Her job is to help people pass from one world into the next. The irony is her getting tangled between the law-abiding reality most of us can relate to and an underworld that knows no law, only power. It’s also ironic that so few people intervened on her behalf. Was it cowardice or ignorance? 

“Dana H” never lacks theatricality. O’Connell’s mesmerizing performance makes this a very active telling of a gruesome interview. Les Waters breaks the uniformity of Hnath’s concept with a well-crafted set and some effects that punctuate the timespans Higgenbotham covers. “Dana H” is an unforgettable evening of theatre. It’s certainly an impressive feat for actress and author but more than anything it’s a real-life situation that makes you wonder what you’d do. 

Through October 6 at Goodman Theatre. 170 N Dearborn. 312-443-3800

The Music Man is beautifully produced at Goodman Theater. It generated so much pre-show buzz that the run was extended twice before the curtain came down on opening night. No wonder.
With great choreography (Denis Jones), wonderfully detailed period costumes (Ana Kuzmanic), and an orchestra directed by Jermaine Hill, it hits the right notes for a convincing rendition of a beloved Broadway musical that has enshrined itself in America’s cultural pantheon. From scanning ticket holders going in, and judging by the exuberant reception from the audience opening night, the show holds a powerful attraction for audiences of all ages.

The 1962 movie version with Robert Preston and Shirley Jones in the lead roles is probably the Music Man one most people recall. Not producing a simulacrum of it risks disappointment, that is the case overall in the Goodman Theatre version.

Director Mary Zimmerman fully satisfies our nostalgic hunger, honoring the work by Meredith Wilson (book, lyrics and music), which is itself is a bit of 1950’s nostalgia about the simpler times in 1912 River City, Iowa. This was a period when science and industry were in the ascendance in America, while popular culture was shaking loose from the its reverence for 19th century classicism.

In this version, Zimmerman - one of our city’s most precious creative forces - takes a fresh turn on the work, with reverence for the storyline, but setting a tone from the start with the brilliantly offbeat sets by Dan Ostling (Metamorphoses, and 30+ other Lookingglass Theatre works), the hallmark of many Zimmerman efforts.

As the audience arrives it is greeted by full curtain print of an antique Iowa map. This rises to reveal a full stage-sized beaded board, with a cutaway revealing the interior of Pullman passenger car on the Rock Island Line that originated in Chicago, and bound for River City. It is filled with traveling salesmen arguing about the merits of knowing the territory, whether to sell on a cash basis, or extend credit, and talk of a charlatan who fleeces customers and gives all salesmen a bad name.

In this blockbuster opening scene, the lines and songs and dance are delivered in syncopated cadence matching the rhythm, speed, and clickety clack of the train, and it far outdoes the movie version. And the audience embraced it to joyful cheers.

Likewise for the next scene introducing people of River City, Iowa, not given over to effusive expression – setting us up for the rest of the show. The response to this first appearance of the full company on Main Street in River City was thunderous applause and cheers. It is safe to say that Music Man were it on Rotten Tomatoes would get 97 from viewers, though more mixed assessments from the reviewers.

There are some things lost. Zimmerman weaves together a wonderful presentation of Music Man, but the individual actors and the music seem subordinated to the production – little chance for stars to shine, or for us to bask in the music. For a musical about musical bands, this one has too sparse an orchestra, with just 11 pieces.

Also the pace of song performances, with though there were wonderful voices, the numbers seemed rushed, with no time for listeners to bask in sublime melodies like “Til There Was You” or “Lida Rose.”

Slightly underdone was the role of Ronnie, the boy with the speech impediment (we would call him “special needs” today). He’s the one that sing’s “Gary Indiana.” I may be mistaken, but the performance of scenes from Grecian urns by the women’s culture group seemed too abstracted to evoke the antiquities they were referencing. 

But those are minor matters. The Music Man at Goodman Theatre is an absolutely wonderful production. Fom the reception by the audience opening night, you should hurry to get tickets. (It runs through

The Music Man is beautifully produced at Goodman Theater. It generated so much pre-show buzz that the run was extended twice before the curtain came down on opening night. No wonder.
With great choreography (Denis Jones), wonderfully detailed period costumes (Ana Kuzmanic), and an orchestra directed by Jermaine Hill, it hits the right notes for a convincing rendition of a beloved Broadway musical that has enshrined itself in America’s cultural pantheon. From scanning ticket holders going in, and judging by the exuberant reception from the audience opening night, the show holds a powerful attraction for audiences of all ages.

The 1962 movie version with Robert Preston and Shirley Jones in the lead roles is probably The Music Man most people recall. Not producing a simulacrum of it risks disappointment, but that is not the case overall in the Goodman Theatre version.

Director Mary Zimmerman fully satisfies our nostalgic hunger, honoring the work by Meredith Wilson (book, lyrics and music), which itself is a bit of 1950’s nostalgia about the simpler times in 1912 River City, Iowa. This was a period when science and industry were in the ascendance in America, while popular culture was shaking loose from its reverence for 19th century classicism.

In this version, Zimmerman - one of our city’s most precious creative forces - takes a fresh turn on the work, with reverence for the storyline, but setting a unique tone from the start with the brilliantly offbeat sets by Dan Ostling (Metamorphoses, and 30+ other Lookingglass Theatre works), the hallmark of many Zimmerman efforts.

As the audience arrives it is9 greeted by full curtain print of an antique Iowa map. This rises to reveal a beaded board panel filling the entire stage opening - like a second curtain - with a cutaway revealing the interior of a Pullman passenger car on the Rock Island Line that originated in Chicago, and bound for River City. It is filled with traveling salesmen arguing about the merits of knowing the territory, whether to sell on a cash basis or extend credit, and talk of a charlatan who fleeces customers and gives all salesmen a bad name.

In this blockbuster opening scene, the lines and songs and dance are delivered in syncopated cadence matching the rhythm, speed, and clickety clack of the train, and it far outdoes the movie version. And the audience embraced it to joyful cheers.

Likewise for the next scene introducing people of River City, Iowa, not given over to effusive expression – setting us up for the rest of the show. The response to this first appearance of the full company on Main Street in River City was thunderous applause and cheers. It is safe to say that Music Man were it on Rotten Tomatoes would get 97 from viewers, though more mixed assessments from the reviewers.

There are some things lost. Zimmerman weaves together a wonderful presentation of The Music Man, but the individual actors and the music seem subordinated to the production – little chance for stars to shine, or for us to bask in the music. For a musical about musical bands, this one has too sparse an orchestra, with just 11 pieces.

Also the pace of song performances, though there were wonderful voices, the numbers seemed rushed, with no time for listeners to bask in sublime melodies like "Good Night my Someone" “Till There Was You” or “Lida Rose.” Both leads are great singers: Monica West plays Marian Paroo, and Geoff Packard plays Harold Hill.

Slightly underdone was the role of Ronnie, the boy with the speech impediment (played by Ron Howard in the film, we would call him “special needs” today). He’s the one that sing’s “Gary Indiana.” I may be mistaken, but the performance of scenes from Grecian urns by the women’s culture group seemed to be made too contemporarily abstract to properly evoke the antiquities they were referencing, and the dying cries of classicism. 

But those are minor matters. The Music Man at Goodman Theatre is an absolutely wonderful production. Fom the reception by the audience opening night, you should hurry to get tickets. (It runs through August 18.)

Goodman Theatre’s staging of The Winter’s Tale, loaded with spectacle, would have seemed ridiculous and even unanchored 20 years ago. But with the surging popularity of those magical realms in the movies of the Marvel Universe – Black Panther, Captain Marvel, Avengers: Endgame - where characters die, then return, and are repeatedly transformed – well, director Robert Fall’s almost (but not quite) overwrought effort fits our times perfectly.

The Winter’s Tale was one of Shakespeare final works, and it is a unique form (perhaps why it is produced less often), neither a comedy nor a tragedy, but devised as a romance.
Unlike the powerful plays that are channeled intellectually to our emotions through telling dialog, as in the tragic Hamlet or comic Taming of the Shrew, The Winter’s Tale was meant as a theatrical confection, and entertains us more than it sways us.

In Goodman Theatre’s magnificent production, director Robert Falls has given us spectacle – five acts delivered as a series of elegant vignettes, presenting different facets of Shakespeare’s spin on several forms: Tragedy, Greek Drama, Pastoral Romance, Comedy & Clowning. At first, I admit I was suspicious of it all, wondering whether Goodman had bankrolled an overproduced folly. But by degrees I came to appreciate Falls' vision, and fell for it.

The Winter’s Tale opens with a brewing tragedy among royals – the deeply bonded kings of Bohemia and Sicilia are like brothers, who have a falling out, leading to tragic consequences and suffering. But Shakespeare uses the stuff of this tragedy as a formula: we are meant to behold the key points of very bad things happening.

For this, Falls puts the cast in contemporary evening wear and paper crowns – suggesting through what is almost a cliché in contemporary Shakespeare style, that this is a throwaway tragedy. The cast delivers it’s Elizabethan dialog persuasively. But the rather convoluted sequence of events is more like an exaggerated operatic storyline, than compelling trough of sorrow.

In a nutshell, Leontes (Dan Donohue - he was Scar in Lion King!) King of Sicilia becomes jealous of his pregnant wife Hermione (Kate Fry) and of his dearest friend, Polixenes (Nathan Hosner), the King of Bohemia, who he deems are cheating on him. Leontes shifts with inexplicable rapidity from bosom buddy to enraged adversary, though friends and advisers try to soothe him. Hermione delivers the baby, and Leontes puts her on trial, and sends the infant girl to die in the wilderness – of Bohemia. Oh and his young son Mamillius (Charlie Herman) dies, leaving Leontes heirless.

Subsequent scenes, including the trial of Hermione, now are given the look of Greek drama, or, Game of Thrones as suggested by the costume of Leontes steward, Paulina (Christiana Clark is a dramatic force). Hermione’s fate is sealed by Leontes' edict, but an appeal is made to consult the Oracle at Delphos on whether his jealousy is misplaced.

The play transitions a more pastoral setting, in wilds of the Kingdom of Bohemia, where the baby in the basket is threatened by a bear – played with convincing ferociousness by Mark Lancaster. The baby is saved when the bear chases after someone else (“Exit, pursued by bear” is the script line).

The curtain falls. And when it rises, we are greeted by a transitional interlude, with the character Time and letting us know in metered verse the clock has moved forward 16 years. This precious scene is like an elaborate decorative embellishment in an antiquarian book, letting us know we are entering a new episode.

The next parts of the play brings us to the pastoral setting of the Kingdom of Bohemia, and Falls gives us celebratory scenes following a sheep shearing, with bales of wool stacked high, and ala Nutcracker, a giant sheep and sheers. Against the setting of plenty we meet the surviving infant, Perdita (Chloe Baldwin) now a teenaged girl, and her boyfriend, Florizel (Xavier Bluell, who brings a real freshness and spark to his role). We are greeted by delightful scenes, and eventually the play makes it’s way back to the Kingdom of Sicilia, for a magical resolution in which all is forgiven, though not all live happily ever after.

For Shakespeare fans this production of a rarity makes The Winter’s Tale must viewing. But anyone who comes will find themselves richly rewarded. It runs through June 9 at Goodman Theatre.

If you follow the Chicago theater scene, you’ve likely heard about local playwright Ike Holter. His Rightlynd series has been appearing in near rapid succession at various theatre companies around town. The Rightlynd saga concludes its seven-play series at the Goodman in a new play called 'Lottery Day'. Accomplished local director, Lili-Ann Brown and a cast of entirely Chicago faces make this production an authentic experience.If you follow the Chicago theater scene, you’ve likely heard about local playwright Ike Holter. His Rightlynd series has been appearing in near rapid succession at various theatre companies around town. The Rightlynd saga concludes its seven-play series at the Goodman in a new play called 'Lottery Day'. Accomplished local director, Lili-Ann Brown and a cast of entirely Chicago faces make this production an authentic experience.

Rightlynd is a fictional ward on Chicago's south side that has undergone many changes as a result of gentrification. In 'Lottery Day' many characters from the rest of Holter's plays gather for a final barbeque in matriarchal character Mallory's (J. Nicole Brooks) backyard. This isn’t just any barbeque for Mallory, she's decided to play a little game with her ten guests. One of them will leave with a large sum of money. 

'Lottery Day' plays out like peak-era Edward Albee. The structure of the game and the poetic ways Holter's characters play verbal tennis make this a satisfying watch. Often playwrights miss the real spirit of Chicago. Holter hits Chicago life on the head for anyone who's spent a good chunk of time living here. That spirit is further distilled through the lens of particularly underserved citizens. Local references don't feel clunky or jammed in. These are conversations you'd really hear. 

An all Chicago cast gives this play an edge. Here are actors who are not only familiar with each other but have a palpable chemistry. Within minutes of McKenzie Chinn's entrance as Cassandra, she shares a touching moment with Mallory. A simple gesture of affection feels so real that it makes you misty. Sydney Charles takes most of the laughs as Zora, but again, her scenes with Chinn feel so real you'll want more. There's not a bad performance on this stage. This cast is having so much fun together, it's almost an invitation for the audience to join their party. 

'Lottery Day' is an exciting moment in Chicago theatre. It seemed like everyone in the intimate Owen space was having a good time. The laughs and celebration of Chicago, as well as urban life, create a sense of community in the two-and-a-half-hour production. Those with a deep knowledge of pop culture and theatre in general will find plenty of shout outs to chuckle about. See this play if for no other reason than it will give you compassion for everyone you encounter in a day in this unique city. 'Lottery Day' is a love letter to a Chicago we are losing year by year as neighborhoods go from bad to "safe". 

Through April 28th at Goodman Theatre. 170 N Dearborn. 312-444-3821

"Nostalgia is a disease." bemoans Lynn Nottage's downtrodden characters in 'Sweat' now playing at Goodman Theatre. This 2017 Pulitzer prize winner examines the ordinary lives of factory workers in a Pennsylvania town in the years leading up to the 2008 recession. 'Sweat' is the second Pulitzer for playwright Lynn Nottage, making her the first woman to ever receive the prize twice. Goodman Theatre premiered her first prize winning play 'Ruined' in 2008. Ron OJ Parson directs an all-star cast in this Chicago premiere. 

'Sweat' switches between 2000 and 2008 as the changing economy finds factory work becoming scarce in traditionally blue-collar Pennsylvania. The play begins with two young men's release from prison for an undisclosed crime. One white (Mike Cherry), has a swastika tattooed on his forehead, the other a young black man (Edgar Miguel Sanchez), crisply dressed holding a bible. We're immediatley swept back to year 2000 when things were as they always had been. Three coworkers of different backgrounds celebrate their friend Tracey's (Kristin Fitzgerald) birthday in a local dive bar. When their friend Cynthia (Tyla Abercrumbie) mentions she's putting in for a promotion at the plant, tensions rise in quick moving scenes. 

The majority of the play takes place in a rundown bar tended by retired plant employee Stan (Keith Kopferer). Kupferer plays a reliable moral backbone of the play as Tracey and Cynthia are pitted against each other when the layoffs begin. Fitzgerald and Ambercrumbi deliver powerhouse performances. Both each other's match as they square off in scenes so intense you nearly forget to breath. 

Though first produced before Trump won the election, it's as if Nottage knew the outcome. It's a quick descent into blatant racism for these otherwise easy-going characters. Economic stress in these reliably blue states turns those at the bottom of an economy against each other. Nottage captures life for those holding onto the past with compassion but perhaps not dignity. 

It's nice to see a full length play these days. 'Sweat' runs two and a half hours but the scenes are so taught you'd hardly notice. This deeply human story has a long-burning fuse that leads right up to a full-fledge powder keg. In the four walls of a smelly bar we're shown some of the darkest sides of capitalism. In that regard, 'Sweat' is not just an American play, but a universal and timeless play about those left behind. 

Through April 14th at Goodman Theatre. 170 N Dearborn Street. 312-443-3800

The dynamic clashes of three couples living parallel lives fuels Christina Anderson’s delightful new play, How to Catch Creation. With dialog that is fresh, arresting, and completely natural, Anderson captures and holds our attention throughout the 90-minute show.  We quickly become invested in the characters, want to know how things will turn out for them.

Particularly strong were the portrayals of Griffin (Keith Randolph Smith is spectacular), and his bosom buddy and best female friend Tami (Karen Aldridge in an electric performance).

Griffin is a middle-aged man recently released from prison after being wrongfully convicted, trying to reclaim his life – with a settlement to get him started. Tami is an academic administrator in the fine arts department, whose life as an artist is now in abeyance – and likewise for her love life, which trends toward women.

Tami and Griffin have that most special intimacy, one that allows for unsparing honesty, and in the best of all possible worlds could be the basis for a rock-solid marriage. But nothing suggests they are headed in that direction. But your antenna will rise as the dialog between these two, sparklingly well written, suggests a special energy – and the chemistry between these two accomplished actors is unrelentingly magnetic.

In the course of the action, Tami pairs up with Riley (Maya Vinice Prentiss) a computer technician and electronic musician. Complicating things is the fact that Riley is involved with Stokes (Bernard Gilbert). Without spoiling the plot and reveals, we discover a thread of connections through two generations, and through coincidences and fate, paths cross and the complicated fabric of the drama is woven.

The presentation of the play is fast-paced and technically wonderful – Anderson’s script sets great production challenges, as it mimics the fast-paced, quick-cut style of a film – with vignettes, short scenes, and jumps back in time. To accomplish this, director Nigel Smith seamlessly integrated scenery and staging (Todd Rosenthal) lighting (Allen Lee Hughes) and sound (Joanna Lynne Staub, with composition by Justin Ellington).

In How to Catch Creation, Anderson reminds us that the more things change, the more they stay the same. The title tips us off to the parallels within these couples, and the pursuit each holds in common of creation – in painting, writing, procreating – and the quest for love. As if to underscore it all, Anderson gives us several pairs of scenes that run concurrently, with identical dialog spoken sometimes simultaneously, sometimes sequentially, by couples in different times and of different ages. The effect is marvelous.   

One couple is shown living in the 1960s and 1970s, Ayanna Bria Bakari (Natalie), Jasmine Bracey (G.K. Marche) and Anderson is very specific about the timing of scenes: one takes place a few days after the specific reference to the September 15, 1963 bombing of the 16th Street Baptist Church in Birmingham, Alabama; the scene references the killing of four little girls in the church. Another takes place years later, with a very specific presentation of an ad at a bus stop for an Apple computer (a perfect replication of the real thing), setting it in the late 1970s, when Apple first began advertising.

The other two couples inhabit 2014, but also with a specificity. “It’s 2014,” says Riley. “If you have the money, you can have can have a kid.” Perhaps by rooting the action in concrete details, Anderson wants to make it more credible. But she has accomplished that already, with the dialog in this wonderfully written work. Highly recommended. How to Catch Creation runs through February 24 at Goodman Theatre.  

Brendan Coyle is no Mr. Bates when it comes to his latest stage endeavor. Instead, the Olivier Award-winning actor, best known for his role on Downton Abbey as the likeable, mild-mannered, ever so loyal valet to Lord Crawley – Mr. Bates, takes on a persona far removed from what most of us are accustomed to seeing him portray. In Goodman Theatre’s ‘St.Nicholas' Coyle plays an resentful, cynical theatre critic with an unbelievable story to tell. Coyle's performance commands audience attention from beginning to end without a moment otherwise.

The first couple minutes of the monologue play are already filled with intensity. Coyle doesn’t even have to utter a single word as he tosses handfuls of rice in various areas of his disheveled apartment – chairs overturned, windows plastered in old newspaper. It looks like the place was ransacked. After penetratingly staring out to the crowd, he finally takes a seat and begins to tell his story. Upon revealing that he is a theatre critic (which alone in itself conjures a hearty, collective laugh in the way he says it), he admits he has been harsh in his reviews due to jealousy. He is a powerful critic. His reviews can make or break a production. The first act offers a great amount of depth into his character in a gripping monologue that only playwright Conor McPherson could pen. The description of his life as a critic laid out so well and superbly delivered, we get a perfectly painted picture. We feel his frustration, his pain and his triumphs. We feel for the character. In true McPherson style, who has given us such powerful productions as “the Seafarer’ and ‘Dublin Carol’, the play is filled with dark humor, plenty of F-bombs, drinking and, of course, deep soul searching.

“When I was a boy, I was afraid of the dark… What was there. And maybe one of the things I thought was there was vampires,” our critic says in the first act. It’s not the only mention of vampires in the play’s first half. Though riding along with perfectly timed moments of humor, “St. Nicholas” becomes more of a psychological thriller as it progresses. The Dublin theater critic tells us how he gave up his everyday life for a beautiful actress, an actress whose spellbinding grace, beauty and charm won him over while reviewing a play he planned to trash. As he describes the actress, it is obvious there is no turning back in his mind. His obsession, he reveals, leads him to strike a deal with a community of modern-day vampires and that’s when we are taken on a journey like none other, as we hang on his every word.

The second act takes place in a candlelit setting – almost presenting an atmosphere like that of a ghost story told around a campfire as we are given the devilish details of his interactions with the band of vampires. Candles burn on the window sills, his desk, the floor. There is no stage lighting directed to Coyle’s face. Instead, the glow of small flames flicker about, allowing just the perfect amount of lighting to most effectively create just the right ambiance as he tells his dark tale. Peter McKintosh does a masterful job with set design and Matt Daw with lighting while Simon Evans' direction is flawless.

Towards the end of his magnificent story Coyle's character then wonders if it was real or just a dream. “After all, what is a dream and what is real?” he then asks while offering several scenarios of which can so be defined as a "dream". Perhaps, as he suggests, our dream moments are real and what we perceive as our awake moments are in fact dreams. The play, after all, is inspired by McPherson’s own dream - where he was bitten by a vampire and given two pain killers.

Emmy Award nominated Brendan Coyle is outstanding. He is a true stage presence and has the ability to reach out to his audience in the most effective of ways – a true master of the stage.

I wholeheartedly recommend ‘St. Nicholas’ at Goodman Theatre as Coyle’s performance is not to be missed – enthralling, powerful and perfectly executed humor – a theatrical delight. Catch this limited engagement that comes direct from London's internationally renowned Donmar Warehouse.

‘St. Nicholas’ is being performed in Goodman’s cozy 350-seat Owen Theatre through January 27th. For tickets and/or more show information, visit www.goodmantheatre.org.

What kind of holiday season would it be without ‘The Santaland Diaries’? Old Chicagoans will remember the iconic poster art for the Theatre Building’s production that ran for years at Theatre Wit. This year the gang at Theatre Wit and their usual elf Crumpit played by Mitchell Fain opted not to remount Joe Montello’s adaptation of the David Sedaris essay. Luckily Goodman is filling their Owen space with a new production running alongside ‘A Christmas Carol’.

‘The Santaland Diaries’ has become an NPR holiday classic. Sedaris first read his comedic essay about his short-lived career as a Macy’s elf on NPR in the early 1990s. It was a huge hit and put him on the map. Joe Montello wrote a stage adaptation that has been seen all over the world. Oddly enough Sedaris isn’t a fan.

This new production directed by Steve Scott stars Matt Crowle as a young David Sedaris. For one solid hour we get the inner ravings of a seasonal elf presented in a one-man show rant. Crowle hits all the jokes but there seems to be a raw edge missing from his performance.

Sedaris is known for his caustic wit. In this piece we see him tear Christmas and the whole season apart in a Grinchy monologue. This is a play for anyone who truly loathes the holidays. Though it’s a Christmas play, this is an r-rated play not intended for the whole family. Even with that disclaimer, there are surely those who will balk at some of the more glaringly un-PC moments. And for good reason. Some of the evenings more uncomfortable moments came when jokes lacking a 2018 sensitivity failed to land.

That said, there are plenty of moments that do land. As adults, we’ve all seen the ugly side of Christmas and we’ve all had years where we wonder why we go through with it at all. Sedaris takes those dark moments and spins them into relatable humor. As one theater company passes the baton to another, ‘The Santaland Diaries’ endears as a modern classic for the cynical during this annoyingly cheerful time of year.

Through December 30th at Goodman Theatre. 170 N Dearborn Street. 312-443-3800