Displaying items by tag: Molly Hernandez

Over the years, I’ve seen a lot of theater and a lot of musical performances. And because of that, people regularly ask what the best show I’ve seen is. Without hesitation, I tell them it was the 2018 Jeff Award-winning production of The Buddy Holly Story at American Blues Theater.

So, when I took my seat for American Blues Theater’s current production of Always…Patsy Cline and opened my program, I was thrilled to see many of the same names I remembered from the Buddy Holly cast and orchestra. And when I looked to my right, I was even more thrilled to see Michael Mahler - the musical director of the Buddy Holly show - seated just down the row, as he’s filling the same role with this show. I knew right then I was in for a night of good music.

Scenic designer Tara A. Houston’s bandstand - this was my first time attending a show at the theater’s Lincoln Avenue digs, which I found to be a really inviting venue - seconded the promise of a good time with its upright piano, upright bass, and lone classic silver Shure microphone just waiting for words to be sung to it. I was so excited for the music that I hardly noticed the rest of Houston’s set - a quaint mid-century kitchen tucked off to the side.

Because that’s the thing… I got to Always…Patsy Cline thinking I was just going to see yet another jukebox musical, albeit one done really well. But with this show, the audience gets a whole lot more than a standard IRL biopic.

Yes, it begins with Liz Chidester waltzing up to that Shure mic and singing into it about being back in her baby’s arms, of going out walking after midnight, of falling to pieces, and of being crazy for feeling so blue. Chidester nails Cline’s look - thanks in no small part to gorgeous costume design by Lily Walls which transports us back to the middle of the 20^th century one chic outfit at a time. And Chidester’s got a wonderful voice that gets to the places Cline’s voice got to, while mimicking that magical warmth and sheen that recordings of that era lent a vocalist. Yes, she makes a fine Patsy Cline.

And yes, the band is killer. Ian Paul Custer conducts while also adding Floyd Cramer-esque flourishes on the piano. Lior Shragg provides more than twenty musical numbers with their steady beat (and his beat-keeping becomes a plot point), joined in the rhythm section by versatile bassist, Marc Edelstein. Lauren Vogel’s fiddle goes from heartbreak to hoedown. And guitarist Nilko Andreas’ Fender Stratocaster approximates the whines of a lap steel one moment before slipping into more stately countrypolitan accompaniment.

Yes, if you go see Always…Patsy Cline simply for an overly generous and expertly played evening of deep cuts (I’d forgotten all about “Three Cigarettes in an Ashtray,” but it was a highlight) and country classics (Chidester’s dreamy vocals carried me off as she harkened the Nile and “old Algiers”), you will get way more than your money’s worth.

But while all of this is going on - while Chidester and her band are transporting us with song after song - this show is also not just another jukebox musical. Instead, it looks at how those singular talents worthy of their own musical affect us, the audience.

That role - of fan, of the one experiencing the music and being transported by the artist - is played onstage by the second member of this two-woman cast. Molly Hernandez - who played Buddy Holly’s wife and muse Maria Elena in not just the 2018 production I so loved but in a more recent Marriott Theatre production of the same, and who’s graced many other stages around Chicago in the years since - plays Louise, a hilarious, hard-drinking, fast-talking, all-heart Texas gal who just loves the records by this Patsy Cline. She loves those records so much, in fact, it leads to a one-night friendship and a lifelong (not long enough, sadly) pen-pal relationship between the two women. While her character’s name isn’t on the marquee, Hernandez is the show’s MVP. She’s the narrator. She’s the heart. And she’s a real hoot - strutting and sassing and boot-scooting all over the place, giving the show a real-world grounding that even the best shows about famous people can’t provide.

What was so unexpected about Always…Patsy Cline is that it understands something most jukebox musicals miss entirely (even the one at the top of my list!): the songs aren’t really the story. The people carrying them around in their hearts are. Director Harmony France gives us the larger-than-life Patsy Cline we paid to see by looking at her through the eyes of one of the millions spinning her records on their turntable.

And that’s what’s still sticking with me… Yes, I’ll remember Chidester’s velvety vocals, Hernandez’s comic and dramatic talent, and again, a killer country-and-western band. But mostly I’ll remember Always…Patsy Cline as less of a biopic than a love letter: to fandom, to friendship, to old country songs, and to the artists whose voices keep reaching across decades to soundtrack our lives. American Blues Theater has done it again with Always…Patsy Cline, running now through June 21st.

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

Court Theatre’s world premiere of Berlin, adapted by Mickle Maher from Jason Lutes’ monumental graphic novel, is a breathtaking achievement. Directed with precision and deep sensitivity by Charles Newell, Berlin brings the chaos and beauty of Weimar-era Germany to stunning life on stage, rendered in an unforgettable 1930s noir style.

Lutes spent two decades crafting his sprawling graphic epic, and it’s clear Maher and Newell approached this adaptation with profound respect. The production’s black, white, and grey palette—designed by scenic designer John Culbert, lighting designer Keith Parham, and costume designer Jacqueline Firkins—immerses the audience in a city teetering on the edge of catastrophe. Every shadow and seam speak volumes, creating a world that feels both immediate and mythic.

Raven Whitley leads the ensemble as Marthe Muller, capturing a young woman’s vulnerability and fierce independence with magnetic grace. Tim Decker’s Kurt Severing carries the weary idealism of a journalist witnessing democracy’s slow death, while Ellie Duffey delivers a moving performance as the idealistic Silvia Braun. Elizabeth Laidlaw is harrowing as both Gudrun Braun and Adolf Hitler, offering a brutal glimpse into rising fascism.

Special mention must be made of Julia Rhoads’ fluid, expressive movement direction, which underscores the sense of a city swirling with ideas, danger, and desire. Sammi Grant’s expert vocal and dialect coaching ensures every character’s voice feels authentic—from Joseph Goebbels’ oily charisma (a chilling performance by Terry Bell) to the many Berliners struggling to survive an unraveling world.

Kate Collins, Mo Shipley, Jack Doherty, Guy Van Swearingen, Christopher Meister, Molly Hernandez, and Brandon Ruiter round out the exceptional ensemble, each carving out vivid portraits of citizens caught in history’s gears.

Watching Berlin today mirrors America’s turbulent political landscape with haunting clarity. From surging extremism to collapsing civil discourse, from journalism under siege to widening economic divides—these echoes ring too close to home. Berlin is more than historical; it is an urgent warning, a desperate plea, and a piercing call for vigilance.

Newell’s production reminds us that civilizations don’t collapse with a bang—they decay slowly, invisibly. Each small compromise, each overlooked lie, each quiet injustice piles up until the ground gives way beneath us. By then, we’ve sealed our fate, having watched our undoing unfold in slow motion.

Court Theatre hasn’t merely adapted a graphic novel—they’ve unleashed a theatrical thunderbolt. Under Newell’s visionary direction, Berlin transforms into something rare and electric: a defining moment of Chicago theatre that will be talked about for years to come. In a time when we desperately need art that matters, Berlin delivers with a punch that leaves you breathless.

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED                                                                                                                                                              

When: Extended through MAY 18TH

Where: Court Theatre, 5535 S. Ellis Ave.

Running time: 2 hours, 30 minutes 15-minute intermission

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

As a Buddy Holly obsessive—glasses tattooed around an arm, email handle for years, a novel and even a podcast someplace or the other—I was beyond thrilled when I learned the fine folks at the Marriott Theatre would be reviving Buddy: The Buddy Holly Story, a show I’ve seen quite a few times over the years. About five years ago, I was privileged to review American Blues Theater’s Jeff Award-winning Buddy: The Buddy Holly Story, still one of the best shows I’ve ever seen. And as I perused the playbill for the Marriott’s current revival, names from that 2018 show jumped off the page and assured me that this production would be in capable hands.

The capable hands of this Buddy Holly are attached to Kieran McCabe, who in 2018 played The Crickets’ drummer, Jerry Allison. Here’s the thing about Buddy Holly—he was young. His very short career—cut short by a fateful winter plane ride from Iowa bound for Fargo—ended when he was just 22 years old. So, while many Buddies have the look, have the guitar chops, have the West Texas drawl, and even have the hiccupping vocals, most of them are grownups wearing Buddy Holly glasses.

Not McCabe. He brings a fresh-faced, boyish energy to the role. He’s no adult cosplaying as a kid. He’s a young rock ‘n’ roller with a pair of dark-rimmed specs on his face, a Fender Stratocaster strapped to his chest, and a whole life of possibilities ahead of him, not a care in the world. As McCabe’s Buddy leads us through Holly’s catalog of songs—did I mention the brevity of the career during which these songs were created?! — with rockers like “Peggy Sue,” “Oh Boy,” and “Not Fade Away” getting us moving, and tender ballads like “True Love Waits” breaking our hearts since we how this story ends, he transports us not just to Buddy’s life in Texas and New Mexico and New York, but more importantly to a simpler, younger time of backbeats and rockabilly. Song after song after song, Kieran McCabe’s Buddy Holly rocks.

Reprising her part from the 2018 production as Buddy’s young wife Maria Elena, Molly Hernandez joins McCabe in bringing confident familiarity to the show. Besides her role as Buddy’s muse, Hernandez also adds to the cast’s musical prowess—providing close harmonies in western girl group numbers, backing vocals throughout, and some really good trumpet playing during the show’s final concert.

Also returning to a role he’d played before is Shaun Whitley as Crickets bassist Joe B. Mauldin. Whitley leads the cast—not just the Crickets, filled out here by Jed Feder as drummer Allison and Michael Kurowski as the “4^th Cricket” (the show’s stand-in for Buddy’s real-life rhythm guitarists Niki Sullivan and Tommy Allsup), but everyone else, too—through a setlist of rock ‘n’ roll classics, from Buddy’s songs to others the audience knew and loved.

Kieran McCabe as Buddy Holly. Photo by Liz Lauren.

The rest of the cast is rounded out by musical ringers, too. Ellie Kahn as Vi Petty sprinkles angelic charm onto Buddy’s ballad, “Everyday,” as she tinkles the celesta, and plays keyboards and piano throughout, as does Cory Goodrich. Alex Goodrich’s Norman Petty and various other old-timey music industry fellows are as vital to the story as his musical contributions are to the show. Marcus Terell and Christopher Wren fill out the cast and the band, while Jordan Arredondo’s Ritchie Valens gets the crowd on their feet with a rousing “La Bamba.”

Valens, of course, died in the same crash that took Buddy’s life, as did J.P. Richardson, known to the world as The Big Bopper. David Stobbe, most recently seen stealing scenes—and his son Huck’s nest egg—in Mercury Theater’s Big River, fills out the Bopper’s flashy period suit and plays the role to the hilt. Another local favorite, Melanie Brezill—who has amazed in every show I’ve seen her in, from Chicago Children’s Theatre to a play about Nina Simone—dazzles, especially during the Apollo Theater scene in which she duets with Terell on “Shout.”

But, again, it’s the music that’s the point of this show, from Buddy Holly’s songs to Valens’ and Richardson’s and all of the other oldies the audience enjoys. And it’s this cast, directed by Amber Mak, who put the songs center stage. Because while Holly and Valens and Richardson and so many other rock ‘n’ rollers might have died far too soon, their music will always be alive, so long as there are youthful and talented singers and musicians to keep them that way. Sing and dance along, from now through August 13, to Buddy: The Buddy Holly Story at The Marriott Theatre in Lincolnshire, to this music that will never die.

I came into the American Blues Theater for its Chicago revival of Buddy: The Buddy Holly Story a bit apprehensive. See, I’m a Buddy Holly superfan. Seriously. I’ve got a couple tattoos inspired by the rock legend, I once even wrote an entire novel about him (which nobody can or will read…not just yet), and I know his story and his music about as geekily and obsessively as a guy could. So, having a special spot in my heart for this legend who’d been gone for decades by the time I came along, I’m often very critical of cultural (mis)representations of Charles Hardin Holley, including a traveling tour of the same show I saw back in college.

Partly my apprehension is because of the many things that the show (and the 1970s Hollywood biopic that jumpstarted the career of Gary Busey) gets factually wrong. Thing is, most biographical jukebox musicals do the same for their subjects, as they need to manufacture drama and condense a life’s story (even a life cut as short as Buddy’s). But mostly it’s because every portrayal I’ve seen of Buddy falls into the same trap that other impersonations do. They all rely on caricature, on the obvious, instead of something that’s more fulsome and true.

But I promise you, rock ‘n’ roll fans, that the American Blues Theater’s current production of Buddy skirts these traps, instead providing an honest and beautiful portrayal of Holly’s lifework, while also showing the audience a rollicking good time.

The key to the show, of course, is Buddy. Playing the part of the young Texan is Canadian Zachary Stevenson. A veteran of this show (and others, including Million Dollar Quartet, from the same era), Stevenson knows the material and the man. It shows from the get-go, as Buddy’s early vocal and guitar performances are hesitant, if youthfully energetic. That youthful energy is kept up for the whole show (a must, since Holly was just 22 when he died), but Stevenson also gives us a Buddy who comes into his own as a singer, a songwriter, a guitarist, and a man. And while the twang and hiccups he includes in Buddy’s performances are there, as they must be, he doesn’t rely on these tics and tricks. Instead, Stevenson’s Buddy has a warm, beautiful voice, and serenades us (and his castmates) with tender ballads, as well as toe-tapping rockers. This Buddy isn’t just an impersonation with a drawl and a pair of black-rimmed glasses hastily slapped on. Zachary Stevenson’s Buddy is a labor of love.

But the rest of the cast, directed by Lili-Anne Brown, labor lovingly, as well. The theater’s intimate, and the performers all play their instruments and sing their songs up close and in view of the audience. Shaun Whitley (himself a veteran of Million Dollar Quartet, with almost 2,000 performances as Carl Perkins under his belt) holds down the Crickets’ low end, slapping the upright bass (and even riding it at one point!), while also providing vocal harmonies and even playing violin on a couple softer numbers. The Crickets’ drummer is played by Kieran McCabe, who provides the groove and youthful energy. A fourth Cricket is played by Michael Mahler, who is also the production’s music director, directing the rest of a ridiculously multi-talented cast.

And that cast really does everything, from playing the important roles in Buddy’s life to playing the soundtrack of his life. Liz Chidester lights up the stage whenever she’s on it, first as Vi Petty, the wife of Buddy’s producer, tickling the keys of a celeste on Buddy’s beautiful “Everyday,” before adding boogie-woogie piano on several songs, and energetic dancing to several more. Derek Hasenstab plays the part of Vi’s husband Norman, but also picks up the bass and the guitar for many other songs. Molly Hernandez is alluring as she plays Maria Elena, the woman who enjoyed a whirlwind romance with Buddy and a tragically short marriage to him, as well. And Vasily Deris and Cisco Lopez are right on as the two stars – The Big Bopper and Ritchie Valens – who accompanied Buddy on his final tour and on that final flight that ended in an Iowa cornfield in 1959.

Those famous names you probably know are not the only talent to grace the American Blues stage, however. It seems that all of the cast are multi-instrumentalists and very talented vocalists. Ian Paul Custer spreads the news as Buddy’s early champion, DJ Hi Pockets Duncan, while also playing the saxophone and piano. Chuckie Benson and Kiersten Hodgens get the crowd jumping and shouting at the famous Apollo Theater before an early and iconic Crickets concert there. And Ann Delaney, Daniel Riley, and Lauren Vogel round out this exceptional ensemble, playing multiple roles, singing acapella doo-wop, and helping tell Buddy’s story and play his songs.

And it’s those songs – from early Western numbers like “Blue Days, Black Nights” and “Rock Around Ollie Vee” to Buddy’s hits “That’ll Be the Day” and “Peggy Sue” and “Oh Boy” to later more mature fare (mind you, all of this output and growth was done in less than two years, a fact the show hammers home) such as “Words of Love” and “Raining in My Heart” and “True Love Ways” – that best tell the Buddy Holly Story. A story of talent and tragedy. A story of youthful rebellion and musical growth. And, as the last of those tunes shows when Stevenson plays it solo on an acoustic guitar for his pregnant wife on their living room couch before he leaves for his fateful final trip, it’s a story told warmly and lovingly and truthfully.

Buddy: The Buddy Holly Story is being performed at Stage 773 through May 26th. For more performance information, visit americanbluestheater.com. 

*Now extended through September 15th