Displaying items by tag: Sid Feldman

“Viva La Mort: A Play With Songs” mines the 1956 Swiss novel “The Visit” by Friedrich Durrenmatt that came to further fame in a 1964 Hollywood melodrama with Ingrid Bergman and Anthony Quinn. In the original, a wealthy woman arrives in the poverty-stricken hamlet of her childhood, offering to restore the town and provide a bounty for each of its citizens, with one condition: she wants the man who spurned her as a youth, but now is a pillar of the community, to be killed. How far will the citizens go in exacting her retribution?

This is one of The Conspirators’ most ambitious efforts, and resident playwright Sid Feldman  (it's directed by Wm.Bullion) has artfully updated the storyline—the setting moves to small town Michigan, the wealthy woman is modeled after Madonna, and some fresh faces fill major roles. This includes Andrew Bosworth, who leads the cast as Mort Miller, the love interest of Viva, familiar to audiences for recent roles in “Innocence of Seduction” and “Man of the People.”

The title character, Viva, is played by Libby Conkle, who is superlative. So is Liam Ouweleen as her current flames in three convincingly delivered dialect roles: Spanish Lonnie, British Konnnie, and the American jock, Johnny. It was remarkable to see actors more schooled in naturalistic performance adopt The Conspirators unique style, with exaggerated expressions and heavy makeup playing against the continuous commentary of the percussionist, Aimee Bass. All were game for The Conspirators’ approach and blended pretty smoothly with the regular troupe. 

Costumes by Kit Medic are among the best we've seen at The Conspirators, a critical element for the character of Viva. And aspects of the show are on a par with the best The Conspirators have produced. (The hilarious "Commedia Divina" "Commedia Divina" returns in October 2024; don't miss it.)  

Alas, one weakness lies in the script, which might have been improved by cutting it into a single act of 90-minutes, instead of two acts with intermission. The first half lags, and scenes are inflated to allow for stage funny business, the stock-in-trade of The Conspirators’ neo-commedia dell'arte format, which they dub “The Style.” A sense of slapdash detracted from the power of the story, which examines how townsfolk will turn on their own, when enough money is dangled before them.

Sets were minimal, but this isn’t doesn’t detract from “Viva La Mort,” as is true of most of The Conspirators shows. The high energy hijinx are completely absorbing and largely entertaining. One other problem was the sound, which was good overall, but weak in a crucial scene where Viva sings wearing a headset that unfortunately muffled her vocals against the rest of the players.

Nevertheless the story carried, and the strength of the stars overcomes less successful aspects of the show. “Viva La Mort” runs through June 9 at Other World Theater, 3914 N. Clark in Chicago.

The Conspirators latest show is an absolute laugh fest, and may just be their funniest so far. Subversive in its social commentary, which hits you in your funny bone, The Conspirators have chosen Dante’s Divine Comedy for their latest show, “Divina Commedia: It’s Worse Than That.” They lead us through those circles of hell in which we find ourselves today, perhaps without realizing it.

We are introduced to a sleepless clergyman who has come to his sanctuary to work on tomorrow’s sermon. An upper middle class matron—described as a suburban Atlanta business heiress—wanders into the church in these wee hours seeking comfort over a dream plaguing her, and with this conceit, the humor ramps up.

First circle we meet is an unrelenting packaging line in an Amazon warehouse, with the cast moving those familiar boxes at a rapid pace. Our protagonist for the set needs to pee, but the line can’t stop. Soon perhaps everyone in the line is in the same predicament. No stopping to pee! The contortions and jumpiness of the denizens of this circle of hell suffer on endlessly with no relief. And we realize in our laughter they are stuck there, forever!

Another circle finds us at a community meeting chaired by a Karen, that meme of entitlement and complaint that is familiar to us all. After a modest proposal to spend a small sum on a group project, the discussion opens, and Karen the chair discovers all in attendance have an opinion, negative of course, and each happens to also be named Karen. The chair Karen is in her circle of hell, as each attendee carps and whines with no possibility to resolve these Karens' issues, they just want to complain, each in their own take on unresolvable “problems” with the proposal.

There are seven more osuch circles (one is "Ron Paul's Drag Race" with a remarkably funny appearance by Senator Mitch McConnell and Cher), all devised by the sharp pen of Sid Feldman and directed by Wm. Bullion, running at what seems to be a most congenial place for the Conspirators, the Otherworld Theatre at 3914 N. Clark St. in Chicago. Between each circle the heiress reflects acidly on the suffering with the clergyman, who serves the role of Father Virgil to guide her, a witty take on Dante’s original.

The production is in The Conspirator’s distinguished take on traditional Italian Commedia dell'Arte, which they dub “The Style,” with thick make-up drawn from Kabuki, “and with a dash of Bugs Bunny.” The exaggerated delivery, punctuated by drum rolls from an onstage percussionist, leads the audience to savor the lines—giving them added impact.

This time around the make-up has an added embellishment of very expressive lines, giving each character a distinctive mask that lends itself well to the roles. The Conspirators productions are deceivingly erudite, seriously referencing weighty underlying material, and bringing them to bear on contemporary life.

But the most important thing is how funny it is. You don’t need to know anything at all about the intellectual underpinnings of their shows, because the laughs are involuntary and completely overwhelming. Audiences will applaud dutifully at many shows. But you can’t fake laughter, the most honest of responses. “Divina Commedia: It’s Worse Than That” is an almost exhaustingly funny show. The Conspirators’ runs are typically very short. Absolutely don’t miss this one, through November 19 at Otherworld Theatre.

The title alone is the tip-off that “The 125th Anniversary Jubilee” from The Conspirators is out of the ordinary—an irreverent show that is both laugh-inducing and thought provoking.

“Jubilee” consists of a sampling of skits from The Conspirators past performances, as well as “imagined” skits from an impossibly distant past before the troupe was founded, including a 19th century riff on Sherlock Holmes revolving around the old saw, “Do you have Prince Albert in a Can.” Another piece, a supposed 1945 skit, ‘Harry Truman's Fitful Night’ finds Truman struggling to express to Americans the enormity of the nuclear holocaust at Hiroshima and Nagasaki. We witness Truman irked that the Bhagavad Gita line, “Now I am become death, the destroyer of worlds” was already taken, used after a test detonation by physicist J. Robert Oppenheimer. So laughs are both highbrow and lowbrow.

These and other samplings, wrapped around a lengthier one-act French comedy of manners from 1898, make the evening a good introduction to the unique approach The Conspirators use. Known as “The Style,” it is based on a mix of classic Italian Commedia del Arte, Kabuki (actors are heavily made-up), and with a dash of Bugs Bunny. The exaggerated delivery, punctuated by drum rolls from an onstage percussionist, leads the audience to savor the lines—giving them added impact.

The core of the show, the one-act play by a French commentator, author and playwright Octave Mirbeau, is a send-up the social foibles of his time, a Moliere-esque comedy of manners, set at a town council debating what to do about an outbreak of typhoid fever at a local military base. The parallels to our ongoing battle with the Covid pandemic are unmistakable as we witness the council heed the advice of a medical professional who is a “plague denier” and then vote to do nothing, later turning 180 degrees when the disease inevitably strikes a favored member of one of their own bourgeoise.

For first-timers at a Conspirators show, the musical numbers that open the show may seem to come from left field, but very quickly the magnetic qualities of the unique format will draw you in. Written by Sid Feldman and directed by Wm. Bullion, the show draws also taps Monty Python and SNL material.  “The Conspirators’ 125th Anniversary Jubilee Featuring the Ineptidemic” left me laughing, and looking forward to the next 125 years.

The show runs through November 19 at Otherworld Theatre, 3914 N. Clark St., Chicago. Visit https://www.conspirewithus.org

Sometimes tragedy is so extreme, our only response is to be driven to distraction – like that character in a graphic novel pushed off the edge, laughing in the abyss. Or think of the performance of Joaquin Phoenix in The Joker.

A work springing from this sentiment is playing live on stage, at the Athenaeum Theatre, in a new production format called “The Style,” a unique performance vernacular developed by The Conspirators. Every element – writing, directing, ensemble performance, music, set - brings something you will likely not have seen before.

The play is Accidental Death of a Black Motorist- the title alone both suggestive and incendiary. What happens on stage is even more so, with a truly barn-burning performance by Anthony Hinderman – a recent arrival to the Chicago scene and now an ensemble member in The Conspirators. (I am already grieving the likelihood this guy will soon be scooped up by New York or Hollywood.)

The roots of this work are heady, drawn from Italian Nobel laureate Dario Fo’s absurdist Death of an Anarchist. Writer Sid Feldman, who has adapted it into a precise Chicago argot, justifiably claims script credits, having updated the original to a relentlessly witty, laugh-rich brew that will leave you breathless, and powerfully impacted. 

In a nutshell, the story tells of a Chicago police crew who have arrested a man for “driving while black,” (we never see him). "The subject was driving too nice of a car for that neighborhood," explains the arresting officer in his broad Chicago accent. 

The victim somehow ends up jumping to his death from a fourth floor police station window during questioning. Feldman has transmogrified these hapless cops into a witless crew that is unable to develop its own cover story to avoid liability for the innocent man’s death. 

Then comes the subversive Actor (Anthony Hinderman) who re-enters the scene (he had earlier been arrested for a minor infraction but skipped out) and now convinces the police he has been sent by the court to help them clear their names. Crafty as a grifter, The Actor transforms into several characters, but the cops don’t catch on. As Actor reads through the police report he ostensibly helps them generate alibis for their inconsistencies, but once they commit to one of his proposed covers, he lets them see the new story won’t fly under questioning either. 

Detective Berkstra (Nathaniel Fishburn), speaking in heavilyinflected South'side, complains,  "You said you were here to help us, but all you've done is cast doubt on everything we say!" 

Hindeman brings a extraordinary plasticity to his facial expressions. Coated in pancake and heavily made up, he grimaces and mugs for all he is worth. 

The technique used in the show is “The Style,” which The Conspirators describe as a distilled amalgam of the 16th century Italian Commedia del Arte style, with “influences like Kabuki, Kathakali, Bugs Bunny, and a high-energy punk-rock aesthetic” that is like “a coke-fueled clown nightmare.”

Abandoning any semblance of naturalism, the actors are done up in grotesque makeup, with stylized movements punctuated by very expressive percussion as commentary. (Sarah Scanlon played the night I saw the show.) Footlights illuminate the stage in a stark glare, perhaps off-putting at first, but mesmerizing soon enough.

You may fear for Hinderman lest he be immolated in the blaze he sets on stage, but so too the rest of the troupe, who have clearly drunk whatever cool-aid The Conspirators are mixing. In fact, the cast really becomes one actor. Every performer amazes – Kate Booth as Detective Bertowski, Nathaniel Fishburn as Detective Berkstra, Ali Janes as TV newscaster Madison Boan, Nicole Frydman as Chief of Police, and the list goes on.

I sought out this play after a friend mentioned their previous production, The Deckchairs, or, Make the Titanic Great Again. (That one tells what happens on board after an iceberg denier is elected captain of the unsinkable ship.)

Wm. Bullion directed this unique show, which uses its special forms and styles to cast a fresh light on the social injustice it addresses. Far from dreary, it is truly liberating. Accidental Death of a Black Motorist runs Thursday, Friday and Saturdays through November 23 at the Athenaeum Theatre, 2936 Southport on Chicago.