Displaying items by tag: Factory Theatre

"Duchess of Malfi" is another winner from Babes with Blades Theatre Company, a troupe I have loved for 20 years. As part of its core mission, Babes With Blades uses stage combat to "tell stories that elevate the voices of underrepresented communities and dismantle the patriarchy." Stage fighting is an interesting vehicle for social justice; the mere existence of an all-woman stage fighting company is a statement in itself.

Another reason I love Babes With Blades is the consistent excellence of their work. I’ve never seen a bad production. John Webster's Jacobean-period play "Duchess of Malfi," written in 1613, is also set during that period, an age characterized by corruption and immorality in the upper classes of society. Major themes of Jacobean drama included injustice, religious conflict, and questioning of the social order. Both tragedies and satires were popular. "Duchess of Malfi" is a little of both.

The plot has numerous convolutions but the basic theme is: the widowed Duchess (Carrie Hardin), a woman of noble character as well as birth, loves her humble steward Antonio (Clara Byczkowski). Her brothers Ferdinand (Shane Richlen), and the Cardinal (Carlos Wagener-Sobrero) vehemently oppose any remarriage of their sister—for obvious dynastic and estate purposes—and they hire ex-con Bosolo (Maureen Yasko) to spy on the couple. The lovers—no fools they—suspect chicanery, and Antonio dispatches his cherished friend Delia (Hazel Monson), to Rome, there to meet with Delia’s friend (and ex-lover) Julia (Carina Lastimosa), who is the Cardinal’s current mistress.Surely she can winkle out what the dastardly duo is up to.

One can see how this imbroglio is destined inevitably to end in the sort of carnage that The Babes do best. 

But let’s discuss the production first. The crew of "Duchess of Malfi" includes no specific vocal coach, but the players mastered Webster's "anfractuous" (to use an 18th century word) and highly convoluted language. But here the problem is not the language but the script itself. Playwright John Webster is besotted with his own voice. Shakespeare’s ornate language never loses track of the story, but Webster has a lamentable tendency to throw in superfluous verbiage simply because he can, resulting in a nearly inscrutable script.  

Director Hayley Rice and Technical Director Line Bower made shrewd use of the limited stage area to tell the story. Adroit blocking created narrative sketches through cunning placement of individuals and groups. Scenic Designer Marcus Klein and Props Designer Meg X. McGrath brought the story to life with minimal but eloquent objects. I had a bit of pregame instruction in lighting; enough to let me know Lighting Designer Laura J Wiley used them adroitly. The special lighting of the first murder was both powerful and poignant.

Fight Choreographer Maya Vinice Prentiss, with Assistant Stephanie Mattos and Fight Captain Hazel Monson, collaborated to make each fight purposeful. Intimacy Designer Jennifer L Michelson with Intimacy Captain Shane Richlen made every touch, every kiss, tell its own story. The effectiveness of Sound Designer Kiera Battles’ music is best described by saying I didn’t hear it; it simply wove itself into and through the action. This production would have been an ordeal for any but the best Stage Manager. Happily, Esau Andaleon rose to the challenge magnificently.

I’ve saved my fave for last: Jennifer Mohr’s costumes were absolutely sensational! Elizabethan Burlesque is the best descriptor for her masterful compilations of velvet trunkhose, starched linen ruffs, and brocade doublets with fishnet stockings and high-heeled boots. And Bosolo’s hair! – I can’t describe it, you’ll just have to go see it for yourself. The overall effect was garish, incongruous, disquieting – and perfect!

Best of all, of course, were the actors, who acted through the script so effectively that words were barely necessary. Yasko (Bosolo) absolutely rocked my world -- not surprising, as her 10 years with BWBTC have given her prodigious expertise on and behind the stage. Richlen (Ferdinand) underwhelmed in the first act but Act Two gave him the material he needed to shine. I absolutely loved Monson as Delia, that devoted friend. Wagener-Sobrero’s Cardinal was the only time I’ve seen a Bible wielded as a weapon! and not just a bludgeon, mind.

I loved absolutely everything but the play itself, which would definitely have benefited from judicious editing. But Webster has been dead four centuries so rewrite is a no-go. It takes a genius to make a mess into a masterpiece, and the Babes totally nailed it!

Very highly recommended, "The Duchess of Malfi" runs through October 21 at The Factory Theatre, 1623 W Howard Street in Chicago.

So, remember a while back, when I took my kindergarten daughter with me to review the American Girl Doll Musical? No? Well, I wish I didn’t remember it, either. But I do. And I learned two lessons from it in the time since.

First, before the show started, my daughter was just as delighted to take her doll Violet, who is the Target-brand version of an American Girl doll, to see the American Girl Doll Store across the way. While there, I heard a girl in the store point out that Violet wasn’t a real American Girl doll, to which my daughter just shrugged and gave Violet a hug and told her she loved her. And right then I realized I love my little girl for being that kind of person who loves something unconditionally, warts and all. Maybe I’ve done something right.

And the second thing I learned that night was, as soon as I walked into that theater, I realized I’d done something very, very wrong. I wasn’t the target audience. But my daughter and all the other little girls in the seats were the target audience, and they were thrilled and delighted and entertained by what this old man thought was a bunch of snake-oil-salesmanship.

I was reminded of that second lesson this past Friday evening at the opening of the Factory Theater’s Oh Sh#t! It’s Haunted! I wasn’t the target audience. Nope. The target audience is indeed an old man, but an actual old man (I just play one here on the internet and after 8pm on weeknights). And he’s an old man from Chicago, which I’m not. And he’s an old Chicagoan who’s Polish and likes jokes about Polish stuff and likes Peter Cetera and likes jokes about Peter Cetera. That guy is the Oh Sh#t! It’s Haunted! target audience, I thought as I sat there, unsmiling, wondering when the Scooby-Doo spoof I’d been expecting was going to yank the mask off and reveal itself.

But then I looked around at everyone else there — the Factory’s cozy stage and cozier seating makes for the audience being as intimate with one another as they are the actors who I worried would trip over the feet of the folks in the front row — and I noticed that a good portion of them — all ages, all backgrounds — were cracking up and having a blast.

A big reason for that was that the cast seemed to be having a blast, especially Timothy C. Amos, who played Pa Aldrichzewski, the very kind of dad-joke-telling, kielbasa-chomping, Peter-Cetera-namedropping Chicago old guy who I pictured as the target audience. Christy Arington played Pa’s wife, Ma, and the two of them would be perfect for some kind of 1970s Polish Good Times or All in the Family or something. They looked their parts, too, thanks to Rachel Sypniewski’s costuming (she also nailed 50s sweetheart looks for Jose Cervantes and Raven Nichole, and a ghostly Jimi Hendrix played by Michael Jones). This was a total night for character actors, with Eric Frederickson’s looming Peter Jasonczevik landing somewhere between a spook and an Eastern European villain you’d see being dispatched on the big screen by James Bond or Liam Neeson or Keanu Reeves, and Stacie Barra’s needle-nosed, preening, scoffing real estate villainess stealing any scene she strutted into.

So, yeah, I get that the enthusiastic and eager cast earned both the audience’s attention and admiration, but I guess it was the play itself I just didn’t get. There were some Scooby-riffic music cues, and a haunted house and a ghost story and a gang, I guess, in there somewhere, too. But I guess I just wasn’t the target audience for what the Factory’s ensemble was trying to do with Scott OKen’s play. Apparently, most of the rest of the crowd was, leaving me remembering the first lesson I learned way back on my American Girl evening — maybe they’re all the understanding, accepting, loving little girls who can love something warts and all, while I’m the prissy little sourpuss pointing out those warts. In that case, if you enjoy humor that leans toward Chicago (the land and Peter Cetera’s band) and the Polish, then you just might enjoy Factory Theater’s Oh Sh#t! It’s Haunted!, running through November 9. If not, then maybe join me and the rest of the party poopers while we watch some old Scooby-Doo reruns, so long as it’s before 8pm.