Last February, as I sat reviewing a one-man play in a Florida theater, an immediate thought hit me: “This is a perfect show for Skokie!”
I was right! Brad Zimmerman’s My Son the Waiter: A Jewish Tragedy just opened at the North Shore Center for the Performing Arts for a 4- week run, and it is a perfect match — just as funny and delightful the second time around as it was originally.
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While Hamilton is dominating the coverage of the upcoming Broadway in Chicago tours, another hotly-anticipated event later in the year is British playwright Simon Stephens’ stage adaptation of Mark Haddon’s novel The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime. Followers of Steep Theatre Company are already familiar with Stephens, since three of his works have enjoyed American or Midwestern debuts there. His works have gained a following in some circles, but also gained contempt in others, because they are often episodic and feature seedy characters in mysterious situations. Wastwater is another one of those, and in Steep’s production, is directed by Robin Witt to deliver the atmosphere Stephens fans expect.
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One of the joys at this operetta is in the fabulous 22 member orchestra, conducted by Anthony Barrese that sounded magnificent! The cast of classically trained singers projected and enunciate expertly despite no amplification. The cast has professional singers from both the Lyric Opera of Chicago and the Chicago Symphony Choruses. I was particularly impressed by the skilled comic chops from Nicholas Pulikowski who carried the lead with immense empathy. He gave one of the strongest performances seen on a Chicago stage this year!
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Earnest’s aesthetic is somewhat different from last year’s show, in that Dead Writers utilized a grant from The Saints to construct sets, designed by Eric Luchen, which resemble the miniatures in the toy theatres of Wilde’s day. The result takes some getting used to, but combined with the old-fashioned exaggerated style of acting, it produces a cohesive whole and an amusing production.
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Before Hamilton arrives at The PrivateBank Theatre this fall, the last new musical to cause a sensation on Broadway, The Book of Mormon, is playing through the summer. Fans of Trey Parker and Matt Stone’s long-running adult cartoon South Park will be familiar with the two’s delight in filling their show with musical and dance numbers, as well as ripping authoritarian religions, and know that Mormonism has a weird, special place in the comic duos’ hearts.
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The dignified gentleman, Miguel de Cervantes, played with honest and geniuse charm by Natheniel Stampley, gradually yet unflinchingly wins the souls of his cellmates as he effectively weaves the story of Don Quixote. From Stampley’s powerful opening number “I, Don Quixote” we know we’re on an amazing journey. When Stampley nails the memorable anthem “The Quest (The Impossible Dream),” the show penetrates directly into our hearts.
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In a production in Jefferson Park’s storefront Gift Theatre, Frank Galati’s adaptation of John Steinbeck’s renowned novel is zoomed in on more closely than ever, with the tiny playing space leaving room for little more than an intense examination of the characters played by a nineteen-member cast.
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In its short history so far, the Windy City Playhouse has become known for making its comfortable, upscale venue with its well-stocked bar an integral part of every show performed there. And though the fledgling company has staged a wide variety of work, the most common theme of its plays are the relationship problems of well-to-do East Coasters. It’s not a bad combination of atmosphere and play selection, but the company could doubtlessly do better than Melissa James Gibson’s This, a 2009 play with detestable characters and overly indulgent dialogue.
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This cast creates a spell both with their acting/singing skill making this 80 minute show into a polished art piece that Beckett would enjoy as well as Newley and Brisusse. An Anthony Newley and Leslie Bricusse Songbook is a most entertaining revue with energetic singers covering a sophisticated songbook of almost forgotten composers. This review is a showcase for a fresh, youthful and amazingly talented newbie – Graham Thomas Heacock.
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Mary Jane Kelly is considered by scholars to be the last definite victim of Jack the Ripper, and what few details of her life are known are sketchy and contradictory. In a truly marvelous performance which spans hilarious satire and social commentary to the deepest pain and sorrow, Gail Rastorfer imagines who Kelly might have been, and restores a living face to someone who is remembered only for being a victim.
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