Beverly Friend In our age of telephones, cell phones, texting, and Skype, it is wonderfully nostalgic to return a world where letters are a works of art – witty, poignant, ever exploring and revealing the thoughts of their creators. And these letters are consistently interesting, not only revealing a bright, lively mind reacting to all that she is learning, but steeped in the gossip and concerns of a young girl coming of age. Dialogue nested in pleasant lyrics enhances the action.
Throughout, the emphasis is on stories and their power. We are all composed of stories, Dahna tells Adam. Stories tell who we are, define our behavior, and explain our lives. They also can confuse us – and this does happen in the play. The sheer number of tales, the time shifts and the rapidity of exposition is dazzling – providing a challenging intellectual maze. It would take more than one viewing to capture and unravel all the sidelights and nuances.
Emmy, played with delicious verve by Zoe Levin, is a sex pistol. Wise – or seemingly wise beyond her years – hers is the voice of experience, determined to lead her friend astray. Rae Gray presents a Claire that is perfect as the shy, insecure, young friend, only too willing to follow. Both girls exemplify youth, beauty, inexperience, and a touching bravado.
Once upon a time – way back in 1936 –an organization (some say it might have been a church, but others give the dubious credit to the U.S. Army) created an anti-marijuana morality play called Tell the Children.
In the 70’s, cannabis smokers (and others) rediscovered the script, now renamed Reefer Madness and, finding it an excessive, hilarious (if unintentional) comedy gave it new life.
If someone could tell you in advance exactly what was going to happen in your life, and how everything was going to turn out, and if you knew you couldn’t do anything to change it, would you still want to go on with your life?
That’s the key question asked by Bee, the central character in Parallelogram, and it provides the theme of this remarkable, thought provoking play.
How delightful to find such an original and amusing “parody-plus-tribute” to the golden age of Broadway musicals. If ever you longed to return to their past glory, now is the moment, and Marriott Lincolnshire is the place.
The interplay between American Brenda (Ginger Lee McDermott) and her adopted Chinese daughter Jade (Christine Bunuan) – told in vignettes that swing from the Jade’s winsome childhood, through her rebellious teens, to her ultimate maturity – reinforces a vivid, compelling look at personal identity.
“Taming of the Shrew” — one of Shakespeare’s most frequently performed plays — has survived innumerable incarnations on stage and in film – some more successful than others. While Neil LaBute’s additions do offer humorous and entertaining moments, his version unfortunately damages rather than enhances the drama.
Where Wilde’s play is original, Lauren Wilson’s Chemical Imbalance is a clever, highly comic spoof of Robert Louis Stevenson’s quite serious work on the dual nature of man – the good vs. the evil. And if the story of one split personality is insufficient, playwright Wilson adds identical 10-year-old, twins (played by bouncy, blonde Tiffany-Leigh Moskow) – demonic Penelope vs. angelic Calliope. They not only parallel the Jekyll/Hyde situation, but are integral to the story because a drop of their blood is needed to provide an essential ingredient for the evil venom and its potential antidote.
The House on Mango Street provides an exploration of neighborhood and community, and the play brackets this with opening and closing songs (sung by the full cast) which trace a Mexican-American family’s journey from renting in familiar Chicago residential areas – from Loomis Ave. to Keeler and Paulina – before they actually buy a house on Mango.