Striking 12- Boho Theatre (Guest reviewer Dyan Flores)

I know you're dubious. You're thinking, "Who the hell is Dyan Flores and what gives her the right to review Striking Twelve, Boho Theatre's latest production?" I don't blame you for thinking this. You're weary of an outsider coming and sullying the hallowed ground of theatrical criticism that is "Eric and Andy's Reviews You Can Iews." Well you can calm down, because I have a degree in dramatic literature, theatre history, and the cinema from New York F-ing University. You know who else went to NYFU? Tony Kushner. Also, Haley Joel Osment. None of this matters when I'm temping or doing psych studies for cash at UIC, but here, on this site, it's important.

So...Striking 12...The show took place in a theater in Rogers Park that was very very warm. In the summer this would have been super obnoxious, but it was much appreciated because it was maybe 15 degrees outside. Guess who sat in the row in front of me...Chris Jones! He's the theatre critic for the Chicago Tribune. He once described an actor as having a pleasantly scrunched-up face. Naturally I wanted to lean over his shoulder and observe him in action as he took notes during the show, but a man and a woman in sequins arrived late and I had to scoot down a seat. That annoyed me, but because I am a professional, I did not let that resentment color my perception of the show.

I think the form of a compliment sandwich will best serve this review, so to start, the fact that the actors also sang and played their own instruments was impressive. That conceit isn't all that unusual these days, but it's still really kick-ass when done well. Towards the top of the show the performers played/sang/acted this song about New Years Eve in 7/4 time, which knocked my socks off. DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD THAT IS?!?! I can't even chew gum and cross the street at the same time, so the fact that they did this and did this well is rad.

I hope that last paragraph will sufficiently ease us all into the unpleasant middle of the compliment sandwich. At times the sound was kind of meh. Sorry, someone had to say it. The performers were crooning and emoting and playing their little hearts out, but it was occasionally overwhelming for the small space. Even with mics, there were spots where it was difficult to hear what was going on. Striking Twelve mixes a modern New Years tale with the story of the little match girl, so while the plot was simple enough to follow, you unfortunately missed out on some of the clever lyrics and underscored dialogue.

How did I know that the lyrics and underscored dialogue were clever if I couldn't hear them all? (Here comes the second piece of compliment bread on our sandwich...) I assumed they were, based on the parts of the book and lyrics that I could hear. Starting with the overture and throughout the show the cast made a lot of self-referential jokes which landed quite well with the audience. Sometimes you can come off as a real asshole if you're too self-referential in a show, but the book was smart and the performers were likable enough that it worked. Speaking of the likable performers, one of them (Mallory Nees) played the guitar, bass, and concertina, and she had on a super cute outfit. She also had a great singing voice and seemed like the kind of person I'd be friends with in real life.

Chris Jones said this was a musical for people who hate holiday musicals, but I think there's enough gooey holiday sentiment for even the "White Christmas" and "Holiday Inn" loving crowd. If you like toasty theaters and musicals that both entertain and warm the heart, this one fits the bill. Trust me, I have a degree from NYFU and an obscene amount of student loan debt to back me up.

A

-Dyan Flores

The Comedy of Errors - Court Theatre (theater review by guest blogger Joe Tansino)

In the two years since I started following the Chicago theater scene, I’ve learned a few things about Sean Graney.


First, I’ve learned that Sean Graney hates walls. The mission of his theater company, the Hypocrites, is in part “to strengthen the connection between artist and audience,” i.e. break down walls. Also he loves playing four square, which is really just handball with no walls. The first play I saw Sean Graney direct was an abridged version of Edward II performed Upstairs at the Chicago Shakespeare Theater. There were no reserved seats - just a couple of benches that audience members could fight over until Chris Sullivan came along and shoved them out of the way. I found it hilarious that Graney blocked actors in spaces where people would be expected to be sitting during the play. Some theatergoers who were more accustomed to traditional productions were thrown off guard, which I enjoyed because I love seeing people made to feel uncomfortable, especially if I feel uncomfortable too. I learned that theater people have a fancy term for this sort of uncomfortable staging: “promenade.” Graney likes this sort of staging a lot and has directed so many promenade-style productions that he caused Chris Jones to say, “Enough already.” And then Graney went and directed a promenade staging of Oedipus Rex! so it was pretty clear he wasn’t listening or else he just doesn’t give a shit what Chris Jones says.

Second, Sean Graney loves playing with gender roles and sexuality. It’s already been established here that his production of No Exit was a sexed-up exploration of Hell’s vagina. And in Edward II Graney revised the plot by casting the prince as a starry-eyed twink whose downfall had more to do with his advisors’ homophobia than his own unsuitability as a ruler. Most people who have opinions about these sorts of things seem to agree that the play is ripe for this interpretation even if it was not Marlowe’s specific intent to have it staged that way. Is there a more homophobic way to kill a man than by red hot poker in the butt? Yikes. Graney also loves to cast men as women and women as men (N.B.: seeing Kurt Ehrmann dressed up as a courtesan in The Comedy of Errors was worth the price of admission alone).

Third, Sean Graney loves driving purists crazy by smearing foreign matter all over their favorite plays. He did this literally in No Exit and wasted literally dozens of tubes of toothpaste in the process. He removed large chunks of the script from Edward II and Oedipus and modernized much of the language. In reviewing The Comedy of Errors, Chris Jones wondered why Graney didn’t just “write his own fucking play,” then gave it three stars anyway because he was feeling magnanimous.

Based on these things that I’ve learned about Sean Graney and his craft, I had a pretty good idea of what I would experience going into his most recent production at the Court Theater. Maybe if you’re reading this you have a pretty good idea as well. In case you do not, I should warn you that Graney’s Comedy of Errors is a purists’ nightmare.

The Comedy of Errors is about a brother Antipholus and his slave Dromio in search of their long lost twins in a dumpy, unfriendly city. Antipholus and Dromio travel from Syracuse to the hostile city of Ephesus in search of their twin brothers. In order so that the action of the play works, Antipholus’s twin brother is also named Antipholus (of Ephesus), and Dromio’s twin brother is also named Dromio (of Ephesus). Egeon, the father of the master twins also travels to Ephesus in search of his son(s) and is thrown in jail. Throughout the remainder of the play the twin brothers from Syracuse wonder mildly why everyone in Ephesus recognizes them, seemingly forgetting that they’re on a fucking quest to find their twin brothers who both share their own fucking names. Graney and his cast recognize of the absurdity of the plot, and they instill the characters with an awareness of the absurdity that makes the play far more enjoyable than if they just went along with Shakespeare’s conceit.

The Court is a proscenium theater, so the actors aren’t playing “keep the balloon afloat” as you enter. Instead you get to listen to annoying UofC undergrads prattle about their academic schedules before the show begins. The seats are reserved, so you’re trapped. But there are tell-tale signs that this is going to be a Graney bonanza. Garbage skirts the stage. Graffiti covers the set. This Ephesus is a shithole, sharing more in common with Syracuse, New York than with a city of antiquity. At the start of the play this chick dressed up like newsboy rolls out on a scooter and asks the audience, “How y’all doin’?” Gender role reversal: check. Script bastardization: check. Breaking the fourth wall: check. Graney meets expectations here, and if you’re into Graney’s style like I am, you will enjoy this play.

Another thing I know about Graney: he loves his company. Three of the six cast members here are Hypocrites company members, and all six look like they’re having a fun time running around and dressing up in crazy costumes and throwing beer cans. And actually in that aspect Graney does exceed expectations: the breakneck speed of the production, the quick costume changes, the plethora of puns, sight gags and musical interludes - it all had audience members laughing like a pack of hyenas, even the stuffy octegenarians in the front row who maybe didn’t realize what they were getting into.

After the play, an usher tried to stop me and get me to fill out a survey about the play, but I was in a hurry to get to Bed Bath and Beyond before it closed. I rushed out the door without apologizing and promised myself that I would write this review as penance. This is a good play and you should go see it before it closes.

A-