Doo Wop Shoo Bop
Written by Jackie Taylor & Jimmy Tillman Directed by Jackie Taylor At the Black Ensemble Theater, Chicago Silky smooth nostalgic
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Author: Tom Williams
Ziryab, the Songbird of Andalusia
Recently Silk Road Rising, a theatre company devoted to telling the stories of people of Asian and Middle Eastern heritage, has focused on short runs of one-person shows which directly allow people to challenge narratives about themselves. Their latest, Ziryab, the Songbird of Andalusia, is a combination of dramatic lecture and musical presentation, performed by local musician Ronnie Malley, on the subject of an eighth-century polymath whose life proves that many of today’s “ancient” conflicts are not really eternal. Malley’s musicianship is superb, and his interweaving of his own life with the story of Ziryab’s, as well as his highly-informative discourse on the medieval master’s legacy, make an enlightening performance.
Read MoreTuesdays With Morrie at Provision Theatre
By Jeffrey Hatcher and Mitch Albom Based on the New York Times #1 Bestselling book by Mitch Albom Directed by
Read MoreMy Son the Waiter, A Jewish Tragedy
Florida Stage Plaza Theater Conceived, written and starring Brad Zimmerman Should Make Mama Proud A packed house at the Palm
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Fugitive Songs
Chamber music like Fugitive Songs demands an intimate setting like the Heartland Studio. The charming young cast members are all fit to share the hopeful, nervous atmosphere of exploration and self-discovery with each other, and by extension, an appreciative audience. And they sound good doing it.
Read MoreSister Act at Marriott Theatre
Music by Alan Menkin Lyrics by Glenn Slater Book by Cheri Steinkellner and Bill Steinkellner Directed by Don Stephenson Music
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In a Word
In fact, it is the contrast between Fiona’s expressionistic lies about her son and the harshness with which she describes his disappearance that make the end of the play so effective. The play’s text is enough for us to smell Tristan. Yee has shown herself to be an interesting writer, and it’s heartening to see the National New Play Development assisting her development. In a Word’s subject matter is grim, but the delivery is palatable, and it provides a lot to think about.
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2666
One of the most anticipated, bizarre, and audacious works in the American theatrical landscape finally makes its debut at the Goodman after years of development. 2666, adapted from the posthumously published novel by Roberto Bolaño, is a five-and-a-half-hour long epic narrative which, like the Chilean author’s novel, radically changes styles with each act. Goodman artistic director Bob Falls took on this project with the sort of expansive vision which can only be driven by limitless ambition and admiration for his source, and yet, even he brought in a co-writer and director, the first time working at the Goodman that Falls had done so. Even with the administration’s support, 2666 required a million-dollar grant from an actor-turned-monk-turned-Powerball winner to finally be produced. The result is a work of such complexity and scope that it is daunting to even describe. But it is one the theatre scene is ready for.
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Sancho: An Act of Remembrance (Shakespeare 400 Chicago)
It’s remarkable how Joseph nearly plays two characters: the younger, brasher, and older, wiser Sancho, and how he is equally convincing and magnetic as each. The real Charles Ignatius Sancho was hobbled in his acting career by a speech impediment which Joseph chose to interpret as a lisp; but in Joseph’s mouth, it’s an extraordinary tool for conveying subtlety as well as emphasis, wit as well as poignancy. In a time when Europe is agonizing over multiculturalism, Joseph wrote this play in part to demonstrate that London has already been a multicultural society for hundreds of years. For Americans, the story is a reminder of the importance of the right to vote, and the dignity intrinsic in exercising it.
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The Flick
Baker uses all her familiar tools—the realistically written conversations that are mostly silences and inanities, the small, impoverished New England setting, the idiosyncratic characters—to depict the grueling process of peoples’ humanity being ground out of them. Think the Sprecher sisters’ Clockwatchers, but with sticky floors. The Flick’s Chicago premiere at Steppenwolf, under the direction of Dexter Bullard, is long and feels longer. It seems that to understand soul-crushing grind of the cinema-staff’s lives, we must be put through an abbreviated version of the same process.
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