The Recommendation – Windy City Playhouse – August 18, 2019

As with past productions, the Windy City Playhouse’s current show provides a different kind of experience, this time moving the necessarily small audience between a dorm room, jail cell, poolside patio, restaurant, bar, and health club sauna, which, as far as I could tell, served no purpose other than to show off the actors’ pecs and the stage crew’s ability to quickly transform the space.

There’s a lot of yelling, which, in my opinion, often replaces more interesting subtlety, and which I find annoying enough in a normal theater space, but when you’re three feet from the actors, it makes me want to close my eyes and go to a happy place.

The actors do a fine job of ignoring audience members while moving among them, except on those occasions when interaction is intended, as when one of them took me by surprise by calling out my name and delivering to me a cold, awful tasting shot of coffee in the middle of a scene, the occasion of which I nonetheless intend to add to my stage resume as an uncredited role.

It’s a serious show, but I found the delivery of the message to be somewhat convoluted, with unnecessary details inserted for no apparent reason other than to fill time. In particular, I couldn’t help but cringe when a lawyer asked his client to sign something that bore no relation to the thread of the story and would be a clear violation of legal ethics rules. I later felt compelled to go to the playwright’s webpage and send him a message citing the rule he had his character breaking. I’m sure that will go over well.

I love the creativity of the Windy City Playhouse, but The Recommendation does not get mine.

Chicago Sings 25 Years of Porchlight – Museum of Contemporary Art – August 5, 2019

The first Porchlight production I ever saw was A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum in the 2014-15 season. Portentous perhaps, as a funny thing happened to me on the way to their 25-year celebration – my “good” knee collapsed 5 days in advance.

But, on the hope that the pre-show hor d’oeuvres would be comforting, I decided not to let a little thing like another grade whatever sprained ligament deter me from attending, though I decided to forego the cocktails given how wobbly I already was on two bad knees and a single vintage 1968 wooden crutch that made me look like I was there to audition for the role of Tiny Tim in A Christmas Carol.

There were luminaries in the audience and the performances were great, but the highlight of the evening for me was very slowly and carefully making it down and up the stairs to my seat and back twice without further injury, which leads me to my one complaint about the evening – NO DESSERT at intermission, even though it had been promised.

Among the performers, I’ll mention two Five Guys Named Moe alumni, Lorenzo Rush, Jr., and James Earl Jones II, who is back in town with the touring company of Come From Away; the wacky Bill Larkin, whose one-man show I recently wrote about; and triple threat Laura Savage, whom I’ve had the good fortune to see recently in Sweet Charity, Holiday Inn, A Chorus Line, and The Music Man.

The evening also included the presentation of the Guy Adkins Award for Excellence in the Advancement of Music Theater in Chicago to Gary Griffin. Having seen nine productions directed by Griffin, I can attest to his results, but listening to his choppy, rambling, somewhat incoherent acceptance speech (he assured us he was only drinking water), I wondered how he communicates with his actors. Perhaps, as in The Music Man, it’s the think system.

The Music Man – The Goodman Theatre – July 7, 2019

I would rather see a Neil Simon play than one by Shakespeare, so it should come as no surprise that I smiled for two and a half hours while watching The Music Man (despite what I considered a rather drab performance by the leading man), just knowing, that at some point, the Wells Fargo Wagon would be coming down the street, to the roars of the audience, creating even more excitement than an Amazon delivery.

I didn’t find the play dated. To me, River City is like Brigadoon, a pastoral place, frozen in time, that seems uninviting if you’re a cynical New Yorker or an anvil salesman, like the ten-time Jeff-nominated, scene-stealing Matt Crowle, but, eventually, idyllic, if you’re Tommy Albright in Brigadoon, or Harold Hill, who realizes that there was nothing till there was Marian, and the beautiful singing voice of Monica West.

When Hill jumps off the train, it reminds me of the passenger, who definitely didn’t know the territory, in the Twilight Zone episode A Stop at Willoughby, a place around the bend, when he jumped into “sunlight and serenity.”

The Music Man features a wonderful group of townspeople that fittingly includes three of the actors I last saw auditioning for roles in Porchlight Music Theatre’s production of A Chorus Line in May. No solos for them this time, but Laura Savage and Adrienne Velasco-Storrs, along with Ayana Strutz (great name for a dancer), help light up the stage.

I don’t know if Meredith Wilson, through Professor Hill, introduced the “think method” of learning to play an instrument as a wink and a nod to the then incipient Suzuki method of instruction, but Rock Island and Ya Got Trouble are still my favorite rap songs.

Seventy-Six Trombones is the signature song of the show, but the best line is Hill’s concession that he always thinks there’s a band. With a nod to another show, that should be everyone’s new philosophy.

The Ballad of Lefty and Crabbe – The Understudy – July 6, 2019

I’d never before been to the Understudy (50 seats behind a storefront door that’s easy to miss) or seen an Underscore Theatre Company production, which, unbeknownst to me, has been putting on musicals since established in 2010.

As is my wont, I offered the ticket checker/concession person a bit of unsolicited advice about the company’s website, which she said she would pass on, as she wasn’t anybody, just there for the day. At intermission, after seeing her introduce the play to the audience, I returned to the counter and congenially accused her of lying to me, whereupon she (Laura Stratford, I later determined) shyly admitted that she was one of the founders of the company, but had recently stepped down from her position as Artistic Director to focus more on her writing.

Lefty and Crabbe are a vaudeville team that seems to be inspired by, among others, Laurel and Hardy. After they go to Hollywood, Lefty makes a career as a “fat guy falling down,” a specialty if ever there was one. Fortunately, for his health, the actor playing Lefty isn’t called upon to demonstrate that skill for the play. His character doesn’t even fall in love.

The last time I saw a play featuring a vaudeville theme was Thaddeus and Slocum at the Lookingglass Theater in 2016 when the show had to be delayed for twenty minutes in the middle of the performance while one of the actors was whisked away in an ambulance and someone was picked at random from the audience to replace him – I’m kidding about that last part.

Having now seen yet another group of previously unknown to me talented performers, I want to single out Mike Ott as the fast-talking agent, only because his patter seemed well-suited for the role of Harold Hill in The Music Man, which will be my next post.

Six – Chicago Shakespeare Theater – June 29, 2019

“I’m Henry the eighth I am, Henry the eighth I am I am, I got married to the widow next door, She’s been married seven times before, And everyone was a Henry.” Turns out that’s not the real story about England’s King Henry VIII.

I’ve never seen the musical Nine, which won the 1982 Tony for best musical, but I bet it isn’t 50% better than Six, the part herstory lesson, part rock concert, part dance party, part comedic musical retelling of the stories of the six wives of Henry VIII, which I’m guessing will make its way to Broadway, with awards in its future.

All but one of the very talented performers were new to me, the exception being Abby Mueller, who was Carole King in Beautiful last time I saw her. Now she’s Jane Seymour, not the English actress (who has been married four times in her own right), but rather Henry’s third wife in the chain of “divorced, beheaded, died, divorced, beheaded, survived, but just for you tonight, we’re divorced, beheaded, live.”

Don’t worry about the list’s suggestion of violent deaths. No one actually loses their head on stage, though a majority of the audience lost their minds, whooping and hollering in reaction to the creative, illuminating, high-energy songs, which, as I learned from reading the playbill, were “queenspired” by a dozen pop stars, ranging from Adele to Beyonce to Rihanna (but, thankfully, not Herman’s Hermits).

My only regret upon leaving the theater was that Henry didn’t have more wives to entertain and educate the audience. I don’t know what the authors have in mind for their next project, but Elizabeth Taylor had seven husbands (eight marriages counting Richard Burton twice).

Improvised Shakespeare Chicago – The iO Theater – June 28, 2019

There appeared to be many repeat attendees at the performance. When the cast asked the audience for suggestions for a title for that night’s play, they were ready with a host of responses clearly thought out ahead of time. Otherwise how would you explain an immediate shout out of the chosen title – The Gift of the Gobbler? One doesn’t come up with that out of thin air in a split second.

So, given that the premise of the performance is not taking a named Shakespearean work and riffing off of it, which I would have known had I read that part of the promotion that said a “fully improvised play in Elizabethan style using the language and themes of William Shakespeare”, what makes this show Improvised Shakespeare? Nothing. That’s just to draw you in, which I’m glad it did.

So what made the product Shakespearean? Well, they used the word proffer a lot even though there weren’t any lawyers or courtroom scenes in the show.

There was a woman playing a man and men playing women and none of them were named Yentl or Tootsie.

There was British royalty, scheming, and a lot of rhyming, but no one named Hamilton.

Enough people died that it suggested either Shakespeare, George R.R. Martin, or Quentin Tarantino, but there wasn’t any nudity, so not Martin, and there weren’t any profanities or racial slurs, so not Tarantino.

Though many of the characters died on stage, none of the actors did, relying on their perseverance, skills and tricks of the trade (both short and long form improvisation “need a mechanism in place to relieve the audience of the excruciating pain of a scene that is not working”) to entertain and move the story forward.

As is often said, dying is easy, comedy is hard.

How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying – Music Theater Works – Cahn Auditorium – June 15, 2019

Without conscious effort on my part, How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying is the third (out of nine) Pulitzer Prize for Drama winning musical I’ve seen in the last eight months. This doesn’t rise to the level of seeing a baseball game in every major league stadium in one season, but it’s all I’ve got.

The Music Theater Works pre-show talk discussed all nine winners, but, as for this production, notably, Ken Singleton as J. Pierrepont Finch was terrific (though nobody could ever top Robert Morse, who took the part from Broadway to the movies without getting replaced by Vanessa Redgrave or Audrey Hepburn, or having his voice dubbed by Marnie Nixon), and the recorded voice of the book was done by . . . wait, wait, don’t tell me, oh right, Peter Sagal, a role previously performed for Broadway revivals by Walter Cronkite and Anderson Cooper.

Playwright Abe Burrows was one of the recipients of the award for How to Succeed in 1962, which is interesting because his Guys and Dolls was originally selected as the winner in 1951, but, rumor has it, because of his troubles with the House Un-American Activities Committee, the trustees of Columbia University vetoed the award (and none was given that year). They must have been concerned that the difficulty in finding a location for the Oldest Established Permanent Floating Crap Game was meant as propaganda to symbolize the predicted fall of capitalism.

As with the crap game, the lure of easy money finds its way into How to Succeed, which famously features a treasure hunt as a marketing ploy. In that spirit, if you can name the other eight Pulitzer winning musicals, six of which I’ve seen, without resorting to the internet, you win a year’s free subscription to this free blog (restrictions may apply).

Life on Paper – Jackalope Theatre – June 3, 2019

As any theater goer knows, “Ueber die Anzahl der Primzahlen unter einer gegebenen Grösse (usual English translation: “On the Number of Primes Less Than a Given Magnitude”) is a seminal 9-page paper by Bernhard Riemann published in the November 1859 edition of the Monatsberichte der Königlich Preußischen Akademie der Wissenschaften zu Berlin.”

While I didn’t go to Life on Paper to learn more about the famous (to some) Riemann hypothesis that all nontrivial zeros of the analytical continuation of the Riemann zeta function have a real part of 1/2, I wasn’t scared off by it and a part of me was curious to see how a discussion of it might be worked seamlessly into the dialogue.

And, while I enjoyed listening to a brief exchange about prime numbers and infinity, those of you whose eyes glaze over at the mere mention of a mathematics problem will be relieved to know that the play is not about a series of intricate equations on a blackboard any more than the play Proof is, but rather is a discussion about life choices and a character study of two people thrown together by fate.

Fate, alas, was not on the side of an understudy who had the misfortunate of setting into motion, during a scene change, a series of events that caused a lamp to break on stage. But, given the infinite number of possible outcomes that might have ensued, I’m happy to say that she and everyone else recovered beautifully from the mishap.

I actually found enjoyable, and not distracting, this one-act play’s numerous scene changes in the dark, as they were accompanied by excellent musical selections piped in through the theater’s sound system, though I wish I had paid closer attention as to how the lyrics may have complemented the script or illuminated the storyline.

The Mushroom Cure – Greenhouse Theater – June 2, 2019

Adam Strauss’s one man show opens with a portrayal of him trying to decide between an iPod and an iriver (a South Korean MP3 player I never heard of before). His well-timed, articulate, and frenzied conversation with himself artfully sets the stage for the show’s comedic inspection of his obsessive compulsive disorder.

Because the show is in a theater, not a club, and is not billed as a standup routine, though it certainly has elements of one, it is sometimes difficult for the audience to know how it should react to Strauss’s abuse of the fourth wall. I found this troublesome only in the sense that there were moments when I felt like the audience didn’t give him the interaction he sought or appreciation he deserved, perhaps debating with themselves as to whether it was appropriate to respond.

Strauss has an engaging personality that makes it easy to sympathize, and frequently emphasize, with his story, for, although most of us probably have not spent 11 hours trying to cook up a foul-tasting psychedelic hallucinogen from mail-order cacti, who hasn’t double or triple-checked that they locked a door or berated themselves at times for indecisively failing to act.

For me, rejecting his offer to the audience to try the concoction he said was cactus juice, which he stirred up on stage, was not one of those times, as he gave no indication that there might be chocolate syrup available to add to it.

At the end of the show, Strauss asks that anyone in the audience who, after listening to him, thinks they have OCD, raise their hand six times, eliciting a nice laugh. But, as with trying the cactus juice, no one did. In the lobby afterward, however, I told him I had been tempted to raise my hand twice. I only told him once.

A Chorus Line – Porchlight Music Theatre – May 24, 2019

Here’s a multiple-choice quiz. A triple threat is a football player skilled in running, passing, and kicking; a 2019 movie described on Rotten Tomatoes as an “adrenaline fueled and gritty action thriller”; or a performer who can act, sing, and dance.

Of course it’s all three, but the changes in football over the years have eliminated that triple threat and there’s no chance of me ever seeing a mixed martial arts movie. But the Porchlight MusicTheatre’s stage is filled with theatrical triple threats for its production of A Chorus Line, where the adrenaline is flowing and the dancers do a lot of kicking, albeit without a football, because, after all, they are part of a chorus line.

I was at a Porchlight reception two days earlier where I was told by a Board member that the show was sold out for the rest of the run. except for one seat on one night. I’m thrilled to say that that one seat turned out to be right in front of me, a cosmic apology for having placed the tall guy in front of me at West Side Story three nights earlier.

As a result, my biggest problem was deciding where to focus my attention throughout the show, given that there are often 16 people on stage. So I did the only thing that made sense. I spent a lot of time watching Taylor Lane, as Judy Turner, because she’s the granddaughter of a friend of mine.

She didn’t disappoint, and demonstrated even more acting skills after the show by pretending to be excited when I introduced myself and a couple friends to her, going so far as to request that we have a photograph taken with her to show her grandfather, though perhaps she’s really just a secret fan of my blog.