The Angel Next Door – Northlight Theatre – Through May 10, 2026

Little did Hungarian Ferenc Molnar know in 1920, when he wrote “Játék a Kastélyba” (Play at the Castle), that it would be the basis for plays that would be making audiences laugh over 100 years later, first in P.G. Wodehouse’s 1924 adaptation, The Play’s the Thing (riffing off Shakespeare), later in Tom Stoppard’s 1984 Rough Crossing, and, most recently in Paul Slade Smith’s The Angel Next Door.

The current production is a nice, fun farewell, as Northlight’s last one before moving to its new castle in the fall. As mentioned in the dialogue, sometimes a couple hours of escapist humor is just what the doctor, or audience, ordered.

The show is a particular treat for people who enjoy theater about theater, complete with an inside joke referencing a 1920 Hungarian play (hmm) and recurring jokes about breaking the fourth wall, though not really, but also is reliant on the relationships between husband and wife playwrights, an actress and her lothario co-actor (as in Lothario, a character in Nicholas Rowe’s 1703 play The Fair Penitent) and the same actress and her would-be suitor, a novelist, whose book the playwrights have adapted for a play, not this one (that might be too much).

But, as good as all those actors were (the real ones, not the ones they were playing), the show is stolen, and at least partly handed to thanks to the script, as comedies often are, by a “secondary’ character, namely the maid, Olga, played in a tour-de-force turn by Erin Grennan, who, in real life, is married to the playwright Paul Slade Smith, which seems only right, as one of the male leads (the play’s playwright) is played by Sean Fortunato, who is married to the play’s director Linda Fortunato.

Matisse’s Jazz: Rhythms in Color – Art Institute – Through June 1, 2026

According to the Matisse exhibit, in his later years he “turned his focus to a new medium: cut paper,” with the aid of scissors. This was probably a better choice than, say, a new medium of paper cuts, where you draw with the blood oozing from your fingers.

Also, painting with scissors is a better choice than running with them, though not nearly as clever a title for a book.

The exhibit includes a video that shows the notes Matisse wrote to accompany each piece of artwork in Jazz, but I forgot to learn French before going to the museum and thus had difficulty understanding them, although the occasional notation, such as “un grand voyage,” was within my grasp.

I learned that Edmond Vairel was hired to use pochoir (stencil) to create the images in the book from Matisse’s original work, which was aided by Lydia Delectorskaya, who painted the sheets of paper from which Matisse cut the shapes and composed the designs, apparently while bedridden, sort of like me writing my blogs from my recliner.

Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom – Goodman Theatre – April 11, 2026

The Goodman Theatre website contains the following Content Advisory regarding Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom.

“Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom contains themes of racism and includes racial slurs (the N-word), strong profanity, acts of violence, intimate moments of kissing and discussions about sexual content.“

Spamalot, it is not. The N-word is not a reference to the Knights Who Say “Ni.” And you shouldn’t count the dismemberment of the Black Knight as violence, given that Eric Idle has credited Penn and Teller with creating that illusion for the musical.

Though Ma Rainey takes place in 1927 (1075 for Spamalot), August Wilson wrote it in 1982 (2004 for Idle), and today’s audiences (at least the one I was part of) still recognize its ongoing, harsh realities (as far as I know, the search also continues for the Holy Grail, though Indiana Jones may have had his hands on it for a moment).

I previously had seen the 2020 filmed version of Ma Rainey, starring Viola Davis and Chadwick Boseman, in his final role. The powerful cast of the Goodman production, starring E. Faye Butler and Al ‘Jaleel McGhee, need not take a back seat to that star-laden movie.

Civic Orchestra Tuesdays at Two Concert – Buchanan Chapel – Fourth Presbyterian Church – March 17, 2026


Over the years I’ve written over two dozen times about the Fourth Presbyterian Church’s Friday Noonday Concerts, which represents only a fraction of the times I’ve attended the events.

The church has now instituted a new concert series, or at at least I hope it will be ongoing, and I have reason to believe it will be based upon my eavesdropping skills, though no future Civic Orchestra Tuesday appearances are yet listed on the church’s concert page. (BTW, eavesdropper dates back to the late, Middle Ages and relates to the two-foot buffer, building regulation, back when regulations were still allowed and seen as a good thing.)

A string quartet from the orchestra created the blueprint for future success of the series by playing a delightful program of Ravel, Shostakovich and Montgomery in front of a full house.

Little Shop of Horrors – Marriott Lincolnshire Theatre – March 15, 2026

The only cast member from the 2018 production of Little Shop of Horrors I saw, who also was in this year’s Marriott version, was Lorenzo Rush, Jr. Given that Lorenzo perfectly gives voice to the person-eating plant Audrey II, I’m guessing that he has a repeating gig for life, at one theater after another, if he wants it, given the everlasting popularity of this fun-loving romp.

Little Shop is in a select group of movies that have become musicals and then movie musicals. I add Hairspray and The Producers to that short, great list (but not Mean Girls, because I would never admit to seeing any version of it, as much as I love Tina Fey).

I would have loved to be in the room when Howard Ashman took a Roger Corman movie and wrote the book and lyrics for a musical version of Little Shop. He, and everyone around him, must have had a great time.

I always wonder how decisions are made regarding character names. The wonderful chorus of Crystal, Ronnette and Chiffon is obvious, but what about Audrey? When Corman picked that name, he couldn’t have known that Ashman would later rhyme it with tawdry in the lyrics of The Meek Shall Inherit. Our good fortune.

And what about Orin Scrivello, D.D.S., played to the hilt, along with several other characters, by Andrew Mueller? My rampant curiosity led me to discover that scrivello is actually a word meaning, according to Merriam-Webster, an elephant’s tusk of a small size commonly used for making billiard balls. Tusk – incisor tooth – dentist – coincidence?

There were other welcome, familiar faces in the cast, for example Jackson Evans, always a treat sharing the stage with a puppet, like the time I saw him in 2014 in Avenue Q. And Mark David Kaplan, set to receive the Guy Adkins Award from Porchlight Music Theatre in May at Chicago Sings Broadway’s British Invasion.

Gallery Conversation: George Gershwin and the Color of Jazz – Art Institute Chicago – Feb. 27, 2026

Loren Wright, assistant director in Interpretation (who knew there was such thing?) at the Art Institute, led the event. Per the museum’s website, Interpretation in this context, is the “highly collaborative,” way of making “sure the galleries are accessible and relatable to visitors.”

Wright did just that as we first stood in front of Marc Chagall’s America Windows, which, appropriately, are not only are blue, but also feature panels suggesting urban life and music, for her presentation about Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue, complete with a few moments of listening pleasure.

The thought of too much audience participation is always a little off-putting in these situations, but the attendees proved to be knowledgable, appropriately inquisitive and considerate of time constraints while reacting to Wright’s prodding questions about the art, the music and their interrelationship.

We moved en masse to Archibald Motley”s painting Blues, depicting a Paris nightclub, for a discussion that, not surprisingly, included Gershwin’s An American in Paris.

Finally, we literally turned around to see Thomas Hart Benton’s The Cotton Pickers and accompanied that with conversation about Gershwin’s controversial Porgy and Bess and his song Summertime, along with quick excerpts of Louis Armstrong/Ella Fitzgerald and Audra McDonald versions of it.

No one left the program feeling blue.

Holiday – Goodman Theatre – February 14, 2026

I’ve seen the 1938 movie Holiday, based on the 1928 Philip Barry play, several times. It’s a favorite of mine, but I’d never seen the play.

With the original play’s copyright expiring on January 1, 2025, the time was ripe for an updated adaptation and the now late Richard Greenberg jumped right in and had a new script ready to go before the expiration, as evidenced by the October 21, 2024 one-night only benefit reading done by The Acting Company in New York.

I’ll start by saying that, alas, there was no Cary Grant (Johnny Case) or Katherine Hepburn (Linda Seton) in the Goodman cast. (Rachel Brosnahan played Linda in the benefit reading – that would have been fun to see.)

The Grant and Hepburn characters had great chemistry in the movie. I didn’t feel that in this production.

What did jump out at me was that Ned, the alcoholic brother, had all the best lines, all the laughs, and the actor, Wesley Taylor, did not go too far over the top, as often can be the case when heavy drinkers are portrayed.

That said, I agree with one review I saw that spoke to the relative lack of “investment in the very real issue of addiction.” But it’s basically a romantic comedy, despite it’s philosophical overtones, so two hours away from real life is okay for me.

And speaking of the laughs, I didn’t think the actors did a great job of letting them happen, walking into some of their lines a little too quickly.

The sets were excellent, but the changeover during the second act, done behind a dropped curtain while the audience sat in the dark and silence wondering what the hell was going on, needs to be addressed.

Greenberg didn’t miss a trick in updating the 1920’s script, keeping the skeleton of the show, but throwing in NFTs, cryptocurrency, text messaging, social media, red eye flights and the kitchen sink.
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The play is set in Dec. 2019-Jan. 2020, which makes it the second show I’ve seen recently (after Eureka Day) that is placed on the cusp of Covid. Strangely, it reminds me of the way plot lines had to change when cell phones took over the universe.

The Irish . . . and How They Got That Way – Porchlight Music Theatre – Feb. 6, 2026

I wrongly assumed that the play, The Irish . . .  And How They Got That Way, was about the University of Notre Dame not getting picked for the recent 12-team college football playoff and announcing thereafter that it would reject any other bowl bids that might be made, which, to me, seemed antithetical to their nickname, the Fighting Irish, which was approved by the university’s president in 1927 as being “preferable to the school’s more derisive nicknames,” and with the “hope that we may always be worthy of the ideal embodied in the term.”

So, no football, but a lot of drinking, as if at a football game, unaccompanied, however, by the Irish bar classic Whiskey in the Jar. 

There were 34 other songs in whole or part, but not the Notre Dame Victory March (acknowledging, I suppose, that you can’t win if you don’t play), which Sports Illustrated, in 2019, ranked as the fourth best college fight song.

The players (I mean the cast, not the members of the football team), all of whom I have seen before, were up to their usual high standards, but I would have liked to hear more from violinist Elleon Dobias, who was a standout. 

Eureka Day – Broadway Playhouse (TimeLine Theatre Company) – February 4, 2026

Before getting into a “review” of the play Eureka Day, I wanted to make something clear for the record. I never met or, in any way communicated with, Jeffrey Epstein.

I did, however, go to a baseball game in Oakland (the play takes place in nearby Berkeley) on the evening of June 16, 1971 when Mike Epstein (no relation to Jeffrey as far as I know) hit his third and fourth consecutive home runs, having started his streak in his last two at-bats the day before. I should add that I also got to see Vida Blue that night, in his prime, pitch a complete game (if you are old enough to remember what that is).

Getting back to Eureka Day, I would like to add that I loved the totally unrelated TV show Eureka, which is still available for streaming.

And, before I forget, given his association with the word eureka, without which the name of the school in, and title of, the play would not be as clever as it is, a shout out to Archimedes, our first known streaker, and perhaps the inspiration for the 1970’s craze, which I’m sure included Berkeley.

The play first grabs our attention for the machinations the characters, members of the Eureka Day private school board, go through trying to convince each other and themselves that they are all on the same page about their world views (we’re not fooled) and how the school should operate. The administrator, in particular, might actually hurt his back bending over backwards in his role as a mealy-mouthed conciliator.

As one might imagine, attempts to not offend fall by the wayside when the topic becomes school vaccination policies (the play is set in the school year of 2018-19, when it foresightedly premiered), highlighted by the online chat with parents that had the audience in stitches and, given the topic and the location, made me consider a possible subtitle of “Sittin’ on the Doc of the East Bay.”

Everything seemingly gets resolved, thanks in part to the parents, unlike boards I have been associated with, actually reading the by-laws, as we move into the 2019-2020 school year – what could go wrong?

We’ll Meet Again

For those of you who rely upon me for your Doomsday Clock news, be aware that, as of this morning, it has been moved up to 85 seconds until midnight, once again setting a new record we should so proud of.

Frankly, listening to the explanation for the move in the annual announcement, I’m surprised they didn’t move it even more.

The one hope they held out was that somehow the entire population of the world would band together to make their singular voice of concern heard. I will be calling the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists with a great offer for them to buy the Brooklyn Bridge.

So, how does this affect our day-to-day lives. I’m not sure. Should I buy travel insurance? Probably not, The insurance companies probably include a clause denying coverage in the event of the end of humanity (The cockroaches will, as always, survive.).

You probably don’t want to buy the seven-minute ab workout video suggested by the serial-killing hitchhiker in There’s Something About Mary. Maybe the seven second version instead.

I, the eternal optimist, am not going to change my plans for next week, and I actually have a bunch of them, only one of which involves a possible end-of-mankind scenario. So, mostly upbeat stuff you’ll hear about from me.

I understand that Survivor 50 premieres next month. Perhaps it will contain some helpful hints. In the meantime, as Stanley Kubrick told us in 1964, we’ll meet again.