Displaying items by tag: Nate Burger

Shakespeare’s comedies share a familiar architecture: mistaken identity, disguises, intersecting plotlines, a generous helping of prose, and language that delights in wordplay and double entendre. They are also, crucially, driven by sharp, intelligent women who often see more clearly than the men around them. With that foundation in mind, Chicago Shakespeare Theater’s production of The Merry Wives of Windsor leans confidently into these conventions - and then accelerates them - resulting in a delightfully mischievous evening.

Directed with precision and pace by Phillip Breen, the production wastes no time settling in. It moves briskly, almost breathlessly at times. Breen understands that comedy, especially Shakespearean comedy, thrives on rhythm. Doors must slam at just the right moment, disguises must be revealed a beat too late, and jokes must land before the audience has time to anticipate them. Here, the timing is razor-sharp, aided immeasurably by a cast of 22 actors who navigate the text with clarity and ease.

Max Jones’ set design cleverly situates Windsor in a contemporary world of affluence and quiet excess. This is a town where privilege is not just visible - it is assumed. Children attend private school, men play rugby, and women occupy a social sphere of lunches and shopping that doubles as a kind of informal power network. The Garter Inn, rendered as a dimly lit bar with a billiards table anchoring the space, becomes a playground for Falstaff’s schemes. In contrast, Dr. Caius’ sterile office reception area offers a clinical absurdity, while the Ford household gleams with white carpeting, glass, and sweeping staircases - its opulence undercut by the chaos unfolding within. A particularly fluid set change transforms the space with near-magic, reinforcing the play’s obsession with illusion and transformation. The final forest scene, textured with dirt mounds and trees, grounds the production just enough before it tips fully into theatrical fantasy.

What emerges most clearly in this production is the idea that Windsor is a world turned slightly askew. No one is quite what they claim to be. The knight, Sir John Falstaff, is anything but noble - he is vain, opportunistic, and gloriously ridiculous. The doctor, Caius, is less healer than hot-headed rival, perpetually threatening violence. The clergyman’s thick accent renders him a subject of humor rather than authority. Even the Justice of the Peace seems more eager for confrontation than civility. It is a community in which status is worn like a costume—and just as easily discarded.

Photo by Kyle Flubacker.

At the center of it all are the “merry wives,” who prove themselves to be the most grounded and perceptive figures on stage. Ora Jones’ Mistress Page and Issy Van Randwyck’s Mistress Ford  anchor the production with wit and composure. They are never merely reactive; they orchestrate the action, turning Falstaff’s attempted manipulation into a series of escalating humiliations. Their intelligence drives the comedy, ensuring that the laughter always has a point of view.

The supporting cast is equally strong. Chike Johnson’s Master Page exudes an easy confidence, while Timothy Edward Kane’s Master Ford leans fully into the character’s jealousy, finding both humor and unease in his suspicion. Nate Burger’s Dr. Caius is a comic standout, his bluster and indignation landing with delightful force. Nancy Voigts brings a bustling energy to Mistress Quickly, threading together the play’s many schemes, while Paul Oakley Stovall’s Justice Shallow captures the absurdity of self-importance.

And then there is Jason Simon’s Falstaff - a performance that embraces the character’s excess without apology. Legend has it that Queen Elizabeth I so adored Falstaff that she demanded to see him in love. Here, however, Falstaff is in love with nothing so much as himself. Simon leans into that vanity, crafting a figure who is both despicable and irresistibly watchable. His repeated downfalls never diminish him; instead, they reveal the elasticity of his ego.

Ultimately, this production succeeds because it trusts the mechanics of Shakespearean comedy while fully committing to its world. Disguises are embraced, identities are blurred, and language sparkles with innuendo. Yet beneath the laughter lies a sharper observation: that power, status, and even identity itself are often performances. In Windsor, everyone is playing a role - some just play it better than others.

Highly Recommended

When:   Through May 3

Where:  Chicago Shakespeare Theater 800 East Grand Avenue in Chicago

Tickets:  $60 - $120

Box Office: 312-595-5600

Info: www.chicagoshakes.com

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

The Player (Lorenze Rush Jr) has just run into Rosencrantz and Guildenstern with his troupe of players. As he explains how the players operate, he announces:

“Every exit is an entrance someplace else.”

As soon as he recites the line, his troupe jumps into action. They move with quickness as they prepare the stage to put on a show for Rosencrantz and Guildenstern – the willing audience they happened to run into on their travels. The line offers an opportunity to perform, and they are excited to take it. The ensemble is strong – particularly in their physical comedy, and they heighten the moment with ease.

On another level, The Player’s line offers the perfect backdrop for the play. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern find themselves at the top of the show unable to remember anything – including where they are or why. As the play moves forward, the anxiety only increases, and it’s clear that the Player’s line rings true. Every turn of events offers another possibility, and it’s unclear where the duo’s story will end.  

(left to right) Lorenzo Rush, Jr., Rob Lindley, Nate Burger, Erik Hellman.

Written by Tom Stoppard, the play follows Rosencrantz (Nate Burger) and Guildenstern (Erik Hellman) – the famous duo from William Shakespeare’s Hamlet. We catch a glimpse into what the two friends were navigating in the midst of Hamlet’s crisis – before, after, and during their visit with the Danish prince. As they battle questions of identity, loss, and fate, they meet the Players – the very same troupe that puts on the play in Shakespeare’s tragedy, exposing King Claudius as the murderer of Hamlet’s father. As Rosencrantz and Guildenstern struggle to put the pieces of their story together, they start to get at the root of what it even means to be alive. Burger and Hellman drive the play with spot-on comedic timing, as well as a chemistry that is exciting (and at times heartbreaking) to watch unfold.

Directed skillfully by Charles Newell, the production is fast-paced, and offers a deconstructed adaptation of Stoppard’s piece. If you are anything like this writer and familiar with Stoppard’s play, you may find the approach almost shocking at first. The adaptation is certainly different, and much is cut away to allow this more nuanced view of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern’s journey. However, upon finding your bearings, you may also discover that the approach immediately thrusts the audience into the chaos of what the duo is feeling as they navigate their story. As the piece quickly jumps through space and time, you may find that the approach almost creates an immersive experience for all witnessing.

Newell’s artistic team leans into the theatricality of the play – particularly in the scenic and lighting design. Scenic Designer John Culbert takes advantage of the vast openness of the stage itself. The furniture primarily includes benches that move about as needed, and the emptiness allows full view of the back wall that clearly states, “Court Theatre.” The story focuses heavily on the group of players, and exposing the stage in this way allows that meta story element to fully take form. Lighting Designer Keith Parham utilizes shadows, playing into the eerie, almost frightening themes of the play – especially those that offer questions around death and existence. 

You might find that the striking design allows for the surprises of the script to hit even harder – starting with the entrance of the players. At the beginning of the play, we meet Rosencrantz and Guildenstern almost at the foot of the stage – with a big red curtain draped behind them. As they start to hear whispers of others in the space, we see large shadows take form on the curtain. The darkness aids in this moment, and we can feel the duo’s fear as they search around, wondering what might attack them. Then, all of a sudden, the red curtain drops to the ground with a bang – shocking the audience with the reveal of the Players backlit in silhouettes. The gesture at this particular performance was met with a mix of gasps and applause as folks overcame the shock and absorbed the staging before them.

Stoppard’s play has been around since 1966, but you might find that Charles Newell brings a fresh take that even leaves long-time fans wondering what twist or turn may happen next. Along with a standout cast and stunning design, Court Theatre’s Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead is one to remember.

RECOMMENDED

Running through April 28, 2024 at Court Theatre – 5535 S. Ellis Avenue.

A Number is an elegant, fully enthralling thought piece by one of Britain’s greatest playwrights, Caryl Churchill. Just over an hour long, it is relentlessly intriguing, keeping you on the edge of your seat as you follow the unfolding story - first in bits and pieces, then building to a torrent of revelation, and finally slamming shut, like a book cover at the end of an intense mystery.

Set in the not too distant future, A Number opens with father and son midway through an intense conversation. We can see the son, Bernard, is distraught.

We piece together that Bernard has learned that his birth was the product of a scientific intervention. But this is not the root of his upset. Rather, he has discovered that the research scientist, now deceased, employed experimental methods and went further than he should have.

With a powerful performances by William Brown as the father, Salter, and the skillful Nate Burger in the role of Bernard, this mystery puts the audience through an intellectual puzzle along the lines of Proof or Doubt.

In this case, Bernard learns that he is not alone - that there were other test tube babies cloned in that lab. More painfully, perhaps, we gather that Bernard has a whiff of suspicion his father was complicit with everything, and continues to dissemble.

“They said none of us was the original,” Bernard tells Salter. “If you are not my father, it’s fine. If you did an in vitro or whatever, just tell me.” How many were there?

“A number,” his father replies vaguely, and again we sense he knows more than he is admitting. He moves to distract Bernard from this upset by calculating the dollar value of a lawsuit against the laboratory for this violation of their trust.

In fact, Salter knows much more, but we must not spoil the plot. We can say Churchill artfully traverses the science, emotional and dramatic terrain in a unique way - exploring our tendency to all too easily surrender governance of our souls to the technological wonders surrounding us. It is also a tragedy, and Brown’s Shakespearean chops serve him well as he laments, “I did some bad things, and I deserve to be punished,” but adding a post-modern twist, “And I did some better things, and I deserve recognition for that.” Bernard rails back, “That’s how everyone feels!” And we wallow with them in our uniquely contemporary angst.

This work, written in 2002, is a precursor to the dark intensity we experience in watching Black Mirror on television. The action heightens and takes violent twists that are shocking even if unseen. The scenic design by Courtney O’Neill, with black picture windows looking out on the void, conveys an eerie spectre of foreboding.

Churchill is known for Cloud Nine, Top Girls, and Serious Money, all three of them Obie winning works - but I am sorry to say I did not know more of her. Now I will be unable to forget her. 

Plaudits to the creative team at Writers Theatre, including dramaturg Bobby Kennedy in this masterful production tightly directed by Robin Witt. We can highly recommend it. A Number runs through June 9, 2019 at Writers Theatre in Glencoe.