The 13th of Paris (Livewire Theatre)

Please forgive me for interrupting your web-browsing, but I couldn’t help but wonder which play you were planning on seeing this weekend.

Please forgive me for speaking so boldly, but I think there is very little in this world more wonderful than a theatre patron hunched over a keyboard with a furrowed brow.

I thought, most likely, that you are purchasing a ticket to Wicked even though you have seen it several times. Wicked will be waiting to embrace you next Friday at 8pm. It will be warm, large, and loud. You will breathe deep and tell Wicked you have returned; you could not stay away. Wicked will say that you did not need to buy a ticket and come back. There are plenty of people in its vast auditorium to keep it company. But you will not listen. And Wicked will smile because Wicked knew you could not stay away; Wicked will be happy. You will cry. You will hum along. You will buy an original cast album at retail.

As you walk through the parking deck in a post-show daze, you will wonder why the Ozdust Ballroom didn’t sparkle like it did last time. Was Elphaba’s skin a little duller than it used to be? Did the flying monkeys not jump as high? Did they use non-Equity actors?

As you ponder these questions, you jump at the sound of a BMW squealing ‘round the corner, headlights and horn blaring, and realize you are alone. The love you felt was empty. Wicked only wanted one thing from you and you let it take it, you hussy. It was just so…so…predictable. You feel cheap, wounded. Dropping your keys, you lunge towards the purple-level elevator and press DOWN.

Emerging from the glass doors of the deck, the sting of incandescent light threatens your eyes with pin-pricks of orange mercury. Shielding your face and running east down Randolph, you stumble into the doors of the Puma store and pound for help. They’ve only just closed, though, and a pleather-clad twentysomething sneers at you as he extricates the store lights with a snap of phosphorescence.

You’re cold, now. Winds from the lake buffet your head and sneak down the collar of your shirt, rumbling through the poly-cotton tent. Strangers’ eyes sweep your sorry limbs, and look away. Still stumbling, you trip at the corner of Wabash and Lake, catching a mouthful of oil-drenched pavement. Reeling, you curse your own sorry lot and wait for the reprieve from this cruel world.

The L rumbles overhead and a shower of sparks dancing down the steel girders briefly illuminates a flapping corner of paper. Dragging yourself into the gutter, you peal back the triangle to reveal a squared, white leaf of gently penned script. Pulling the letter toward your uncertain eyes—catching the intoxicating aroma of sandalwood, vanilla, tea-tree, lemongrass, oak, and applesauce—you read:

Please forgive me for interrupting you, but I couldn’t help but wonder what you’re doing down here.

Forgive me for speaking so boldly, but there is very little in this world that is more wonderful than a theatre patron sprawled in a gutter.

I thought, most likely, that you came from a show that loved you very much. I hope it was a show full of hope. Did it stand with you on a balcony and share a sunrise? Were you asked to consider whether or not your fears could hijack an honest moment of bliss? Or if those same fears could be drowned for a bit with the water of an orange can?

I hope the show you saw asked you to believe that a gentle phantasm can firmly give us strength and insight to deal with the delusions we pollute our minds with. I hope the show you saw taught you to enjoy quiet moments. I hope it made you bold at cafes. I hope it taught you that pants are important. I hope it had Rob McLean in it.

So, please forgive me for interrupting you, but you see there is very little in this world that is more wonderful than a theatre patron sprawled in a gutter. If you saw a show that loved you like that…it must have been Wicked! Have you seen that thing?! Man, that thing is awesome!

A gentle pulse of blue decorates the underside of the L tracks as a mustached policeman stoops over and asks if you’re ok.

Yes, you say. Yes.

You stand. You wipe off your face, and head north.

The 13^th of Paris: A-

-John Taflan

Hideous Progeny (Livewire Theatre Company)

I showed up 4 minutes late for this play.
God, I feel terrible about it.

Here's the plot as best as I can describe it minus the first four minutes:

Percy Shelley, Lord Byron and Doctor John Polidori have just arrived back home from the Bow Tie Convention and are ready to tear some shit up. They get to Byron's house and there's a pool table and some pianos and shit so they can all get weird and talk about sports and poems and chicks when who is waiting at the house? All the pregnant hos the dudes were trying to avoid. There is Mary Shelley, Percy's wife. But Percy hates her because they lost a baby before, but now they have one and there's another in the oven, hey pal, that's 66% (and you are a poor idiot poet), why don't you shut up and relax. Also, Percy gets to take another chick with him wherever he wants named Claire Clairemont. Turns out that Claire is Mary's step sister and both Percy and Byron are probably bangin' her. Mary knows, and seems ok with it.

So here's something I dislike about period plays:

When there's lots of weird sex with family members and excessive drinking and everyone in the house is up screwin' each other drunk all night, it's accepted because we look at characters from a different time as aliens. How could WE know what life was like for them?

Well, I'll tell you what I know. It was weird even then for everyone to be having sex with each other, pounding down the funny colored wine. There should be at least one character in every period play to stand up and shout "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON AROUND HERE?!!! ARE YOU GUYS ALL PREGNANT WITH EACH OTHERS BABIES!!?"

And you know what? They were.

So anyway, the biggest selling point for me before I came was that this is the story of how Frankenstein was written. I like that story. I even liked the Branagh movie.

But in this play, they don't really dig into that until close to the end of the first act, so I had to find other things to entertain me.Most notably, John Motherfucking Taflan.

Do you know who John Taflan is? He is an actor in town in general and the guy who plays Lord Byron in this play in particular. He usually plays young men on "the edge". He is the third pole in my "Axis of Beauty".

The Axis of Beauty is a triangle diagram I have above my bed. It has my three favorite actors on it. They are Rob McLean, Dan Granata, and John Taflan. They are all good for different ways, and also because they are all middle aged white men with dark hair and glasses. WOW! Think about this:
If all three were auditioning for the same role, who do you think would get it? Probably Joe Dempsey, but that's not the point. He's equity anyway, jerk.

My wife calls him "John Teflon" because he won't stick to anything for too long!

Anyway, Dr. Polidori comes in one day and is like, "I can make this dead frog come back to life."

And they're all, "No you can't."
And then they all drink some more.

And Byron's all, "I'll wager you a penny you can't"
And then he complains about having too many people in his house.

Really Byron? This fucking guy is gonna bring an animal back from the dead and all you can wager him is a penny? You're a fucking tool, pal. And the wagering stuff isn't the only reason either. You also drink too much, and act like a gay guy and probably rape your maid. Also, you have far too many bow ties, and don't pull the-"That's what they wore back then" because bow ties have ALWAYS been retarded. ARE YOU A PRESENT? Is that why you need to have a big bow on you? Whatever. I hate you, Lord Byron.
No wonder you got kicked out of England.

So the guy brings the frog back to life and nobody really seems to care except for me and Mary Shelley. She puts it in a jar that is way too small for it, and everyone forgets about it, for now.

Meanwhile, Percy Shelley is coughing a lot. Nobody knows why, and then he stops and everyone stops talking about it, which makes me think that it was a dream.

Anyway, Mary Shelley writes the opening to Frankenstein and Lord Byron gives her a recommendation to his agent. And then...
*SPOILER ALERT*
She throws that dead ass frog out the window, because frogs can't travel on boats or something, and then everybody bangs the maid.


Jessica Hutchinson is a new talent in town. For years she has been the Artistic Director of New Leaf Theatre but I hadn't heard of her till like, 2 years ago. She is nice and pretty and friendly and directs good. I don't know why she wanted to have the traverse stage, but I'm sure she had a damn fine reason. Maybe it was so we felt like we were in the room with the drunk maid fuckers.

Tom McGrath plays Percy Shelley. I had the chance to meet Tom on a couple of occasions, and let me tell you about this guy. First of all, he is short and hairy. Second of all, he has a beautiful speaking voice and usually wears glasses. He really made me feel, like, nice.

Pat King plays Doctor Polidori, the guy who was the inspiration for Doctor Frankenstein and does a great job. He is the comic relief in this dark dark play and trips up and down the set. He has a real cute baby face and in the end... I don't wanna give away the end, but let's just say he dies.

Madeline Long plays the maid that gets nailed by everyone in the house and speaks French and is learning English or something, even though she speaks pretty good English for a French person already, even nowadays. She has the most thankless part in this show and does a great job. Have you ever auditioned for a play and they are like, "You got a part!"
You're all like "Cool, what is it?"
They're all like "You are the maid. AND you have to learn a French accent, AND your story arc is the weakest, AND your car is being towed."

Danielle O'Farrell is a young redhead in town that plays the stupid whore named Claire Clairemont in this play. She is attractive and a good actress and went to Roosevelt University. You can also tell she had braces when she was a kid because her smile is so straight.
So what I'm saying is... when you put all those facts together, I bet she is a lesbian in real life.

Lastly, the real workhorse of the show is a young woman named Hillary Williams. She plays Mary and is incredibly watchable. She carries this play on her back from beginning to end and does it all with a robot baby on her boob. Also, if you get bored, you can look at her nose ring.

The real heroes of this show are Anders Jacobson and Jody Radovsky, Sarah Ramos, and Eric Branson. They are the designers of this glorious and weird world and prove that Live Wire has a nice chance at making a name for themselves because picking designers is the most important thing.

Go and see this play!

B+

-Anderson Lawfer, Eric Roach

No Exit- The Hypocrites (Theater Review)

No Exit is a famous college play from the 40's about three people who are stuck in a little room where they have to sit next to each other.

One guy is a German Nazi who escaped the war and went to Brazil.
One lady is a Mexican postal worker that looks like Sherlock Holmes.
One lady is a whore.

In the play No Exit, these characters are forced to deal with the weirdo lesbian postal worker as she gropes at the whore and uses all the toothpaste. Then at the end, they realize that hell is actually just being around other people in a little room.

If this play was written nowadays, this would be happening on the #36 Broadway bus, right here in Chicago. Man, one time I was on that bus, and this guy was throwing up in the back and this old lady was complaining about it next to me, and then we got stuck in the Gay Pride Parade. So I know what they are going through.

Sean Graney has turned this once innocent and revealing sketch of human thoughts into another tour-de-vagina for the Hypocrites at the Athaneum Theatre. Jesus, Lord above, I have never been inside a worse theater in my life. Not only are the seats uncomfortable, but the clientele... yuck.

When the curtains opened, when I thought I couldn't take anymore of these grease balls kicking the back of my chair, I saw before me the most exhillarating set I've ever seen.

Now I know you all will think I am joking, but in all seriousness; the set is the inside of a vagina. I'm not joking. It is a cavernous pink waiting room with a sideways door (vagina opening) in the back, two globes (ovaries) downstage, and a giant clitoris statue in the middle of the room that they all rub through the show.

I'm serious.

Graney has really outdone himself this time. I had thought I had seen everything.

Now, in addition to the set, it wouldn't be a Graney play unless everyone talked at the same time with music playing too, and he would not disappoint. This play had everything.

And readers, I know you know what a huge fan I am of Rob McLean, and I was so lucky to see him in this play as Gomez or some other name that he made up when he fled the Allies in Europe. God, is he incredible. This Rob McLean has really grown as an actor in the last few years, I mean really grown into himself. Now is that because he has been gray since he was 17? I'm not here to judge him, for he is glorious.

Also in the play was Samantha Gleisten which I'm not entirely sure isn't Kevin O'Donnell with a wig on, but either way, really nice specific choices, Kev.

Erin Barlow gives the finest performance of her nubile 21 year life as a blonde girl who thinks she is better than me. And whom could forget the amazing and adaptive John Taflan as the Duke of Cercey or something, because he is dressed like an old fashioned British fellow and nobody else dressed like that, but maybe that's HIS Hell, because he just wanted to fit in, but somebody told him it was a costume party and now he's gonna go cry like a fat girl in the bathroom for an hour.

All in all, people talk a lot in Hell, about shit that doesn't always necessarily make so much sense. But you can always look into an ovary and see your family that you left behind.

No Exit

B

-Anderson Lawfer, Eric Roach

Cabaret - The Hypocrites (Theater Review)

Cabaret is a highly celebrated musical by the dynamic and homosexual Cy Kander and Julius Ebb. It concerns a young American who goes to Berlin for no real reason and starts banging dudes and chicks because everyone in Germany is a whore until the Nazis come and then everyone is a soldier. Well...everyone is a soldier that loves to sing. When I was in the Army, we had a special name for those kind of soldiers.
So natch, I was thrilled to take the train downtown in the middle of rush hour to see this highly acclaimed production by the Hypocrites Theater Collective at the DCA. DCA stands for Department of Cultural Affairs, so you know it had to be good, because it's presented by a city run organization.
When I first arrived, I was early, so me and my friends Anita and Loretta went to the Elephant and Castle for french fries with curry. These were not as good as I remember them being before, plus we were surrounded by douchebags named Tanner and Chad and Brad and Cody who made more money in an hour then I will all year. Luckily for us, they weren't going to the theater with us.
But their grandparents were!
When we arrived at the DCA, I was shocked to notice that we were the youngest people there by at least 45 years. The line for the water fountain was scattered with peril, but I insisted to myself that I would have some. You see, those curry fries weren't as good as I had remembered them being, and since it is a government run theater, there is nowhere to get a soda. Kind of like Nazi Germany. Nice place to do a play, Hypocrites.
Once we were herded into the theater (the same way a certain kind of people herded a certain other kind of people), I was in the mood for a play about the struggles of whores and rich Americans.
Before I continue, let me just say how awesome this cast is. They do things in this show that I would never do in a million years, and they do it for "art".
The opening of the show is a legendary dance number when a MAN known as the Emcee (a firey Jessie Fisher) comes out and sings this song that's sort of like Will Smith's "Welcome to Miami", except in this version, he welcomes us to the Cabaret. A place called the Kit Kat Bar in Berlin where it's always a party and everyone has mobile telephones. I didn't understand why they couldn't just go up and talk to each other, but I didn't live back then, so I can't say for sure. During this first big dance sequence we meet all of our whore characters for the show. If you guys like to look at chicks butts, this is the place to be. There were some old people asleep in the front row, which made me feel like I was at a strip club inside a Shoney's but I didn't care, because there were so many incredible vaginas in my face.Even the Stage Managers had great vaginas.
I wished I had a vagina because I would ask all of these girls what they do to keep them so nicely manicured and there wasn't a single butt zit in the entire cast. It was truly remarkable because I'm pretty sure I've banged most of the people in this show, and they ALL had butt zits then, but times change, and we grow older.

Well everyone is having the best time ever at the Cabaret and this dance number is among the best I've seen in that particular theater.
Next we are taken to the train station for the introduction of two of my favorite characters. Cliff O'Houlihan, the show's canvas, a young American from America who has come to Berlin from America to write a novel (played aggressively and vigorously and goodly by Michael Peters) about something...I'm not sure. I don't think whoever wrote this was particularly worried about everything having to make sense all the time, they just wanted to see some box like the rest of us. We also are introduced to Ernst (a sexy-as-hell Rob McLean), a guy who apparently goes back and forth to Paris to send letters to people or something or to smuggle something(?). Again, coherence is secondary here to vaginas. Well, Ernst and Cliff hit it off and Ernst helps Cliff find a place to stay while he writes his novel about who-knows-what.

We have now almost met all the characters. Only, like, 4 more.

Cliff arrives at his new home run by a lady named Frau Schneider (a brilliant Kate Harris).
Side note: Guys, I had heard stories about the magic of this woman before,but she truly is a Chicago theater treasure that we cannot lose. I looked in the phone book and there are only like 1500 Kate Harrises left in Chicago, so next time you see one, give it a few dollars or something, I'm not really sure what Kate Harrises eat or what impact it will have on the environment.

Anyway, Cliff moves in with this freakin lady, and we find out that she has other tenants too. One young slut named Kost (a slutty Laura Ewing) and an old fruity Jew stand owner named Herr Schultz.Oops, I mean an old Jewy fruit stand owner ( a too good for this Jim Heatherly)
Side note: Listen, I don't pretend to know all the ins and outs of business or theater stuff, but this dude, Jim Heatherly, must've really pissed someone off down the line somewhere. There is no reason that a man who is this age that is this good and has that good of a voice should be doing non-equity theater unless he continuously shows up drunk and/or is in the middle of some sex game with Sean Graney, the Artistic Director of the Hypocrites. All I knew was that I was in an ugly sex game with the character Hamburg (a naughty Doug Pawlik).
So Cliff starts teaching English lessons to Ernst (who already speaks English) and starts going to the Kit Kat Bar to bang this dude named Bobby (a sweet piece of ass named John Ferrick) who's banging this other dude named John Moran (an entitled John Moran) when he meets this bitch named Sally Bowles (a full chested and nicely faced Lindsay Leopold).
Now listen, I know this Sally character is a character that everybody wants to play and has become a big deal or whatever, and she has some good songs and everything, but what a whore. All this bitch does is take from everyone and then leaves you standing there, holding your dong while she's off for some more cocaine and abortions. FUCK SALLY BOWLES.
Well, needless to say, Sally moves in with Cliff because she is a whore and they fall in love.
Well, while all this is happening, you can start feeling a gentle shift in the tone behind Ernst. He has become a little more present onstage, and you learn that maybe he is working for the Nazi movement. In our culture, we have become so inured to the thought of Nazis that it isn't as shocking for us that the Nazi is the bad guy as it should be for the Jew in this show. But this seems to be on the Jewish agenda throughout history. They don't take any threats seriously until it's too late! Egypt?
"Oh, don't worry, Sol, this will all blow over."
The Crusades?
"I wouldn't get too excited, Moishe, this will be over soon."
The Bubonic Plague?
"They say it's all our fault, Jackie, but let's see how this winds up."
The Pale of Settlement?
"So they are asking us to move, what's the big deal? Surely we won't have to eat each other."
JEWS!!! WHAT WILL IT TAKE FOR YOU TO LEARN?!!
Maybe at the next Protocols of the Elders of Zion meeting, you guys should talk about getting some sort of warning system in place. I'm just saying.
But this section got me thinking about what it meant to be a Nazi. It seemed that all Nazis did, from the depiction in this play, was bang whores and try kill old people. Was I a Nazi?
I wasn't getting any help from the boy with no name (too cute for his own good Kyle Erkonen) or from Raja (a tigress named Dana Omar).
My mind was trying to work this out when I was distracted by the best part of this production, the band.
Jesus Christ are they good or what?
Led by 2 beautiful women, they played the shit outta that show.
The 2 women, ( the luxurious Britni Tozzi and the insatiable Nikki Klix, undoubtedly have the best names in the production and are undoubtedly the hottest, especially Klix, she also has the best vag and plays the violin like it's going out of style, which will never happen) and lead musically by the always dominant Mike Przygoda, Brandon Campbell and Kristina Lee, with KOD (Kevin O'Donnell) on the wheels of steel!
So, the play went on some more, and the Nazis are really coming now and by this point I was wishing for a Pizza Holocaust because I was so hungry from watching all that Nazi stuff and dancing.
So I don't want to give away the ending, but here are a few spoilers...
SPOILER ALERT!!!
1. None of the men who wear suits know how to iron.
2. No one dies from machine gun fire, which was a pretty big let down.
3. The costumes are in the style of "steampunk" which means, either dress like you are a gang in "The Warriors", or like you are an Indian that just found a bag of American officer's clothes.
4. Shannon Welling is in this play and trips over the stage all the time, because she is the biggest clunkiest whore of them all.

There is a great scene with a Gorilla that they stole from the zoo, and all the dancing girls are tremendous. I especially loved Chelsea Paice as the big breasted dancer and Dana Tretta as the little whore.
To give away the ending to this play would be like giving away the ending to "National Lampoon's Vacation", so I will refrain from doing so, but... things aren't looking good for the Jews again.
There is some gunfire, so be prepared to...hear gunfire, I guess. I know I haven't mentioned all the wonderful people in this show, including Eric Schroeder as the creepy sex guy, and the real winner of this show, Heather Gilbert (lighting designer) but everyone else can suck it because this review is so long already.
Go see Cabaret and get ready for the best Aryan party you can find this side of the Mason Dixon line!!


Cabaret
A+


-Anderson Lawfer, Eric Roach

The Hypocrites "Cabaret" Benefit Party at Sopo (Benefit fundraiser)

There's nothing better then when theatre companies have benefits on a weeknight. Everybody can usually not make it, and those that do have to leave by 9:30. So I was pleased as punch to attend a benefit for the theatre company "The Hypocrites" in celebration of their newest theatrical monstrosity "Cabaret".
Cabaret was a little known Liza Minelli vehicle from the 70's about a Liza Minelli type girl who works in a Cabaret during the Great War in Berlin. The Nazis have taken control of Germany and surrounding EU nations, but inside, the party is still hot. A young American shows up and gets blown by everybody, and the emcee of the club might not be real, but is most definitely a man. The band plays all the old hits and Liza Minelli dances and dances.
So, of course I was thrilled to attend this theme party at the Holocaust-themed Sopo Bar and Grill, 3418 N Southport Ave.
The place was resplendent in World War 2 memorabilia.
Upon entering I immediately went to the bar and got what I consider the ultimate drink of the time, the Shirley Temple.
Next it was off to the complimentary buffet for quesadillas and hamburgers, aptly named after the internment camp in Hamburg, Germany.
After finishing dinner, my wife and I decided to mingle with the stars of the production. Since my wife is also one of the stars, I made sure that everyone knew that I would be sleeping with a member of this star studded cast.
To look around the room, you would have thought you were in Hollywood. It was a virtual who's who of people who have worked on Columbia College student films and knew Kurt Erhmann. Everyone was in jovial spirits and happy to talk to me.
John Moran was talking to Rob McLean. Nikki Klix was hugging Artistic Director Sean Graney. Matt Hawkins, the director, was canoodling with Jim Beam. Everything was looking great when all of the sudden, they ran out of vegetables for the dip.
Now, I've heard about fat girls getting upset when the food runs out, but nothing could have prepared me for the carnage that unfolded before me (none of these women were fat, but they were pissed). Chairs were thrown through the window, and before I could leave ensemble member Stacy Stoltz tried to punch me. My wife and I safely made it to the streets in time to phone the authorities and the party returned to normal. All in all, for a measly $20 entry fee, this party was a huge success, and I can't wait to hobnob with these amazing artists again.
Also, Greg Hardigan was there, looking better then ever.

Hypocrites Cabaret fundraiser
A+

-Anderson Lawfer, Eric Roach