Catch Me If You Can: The Musical (Guest Reviewer Tom McGrath)

Let me spoil the ending of this story for you: Catch Me If You Can was a catastrophically uninteresting way to convey interesting material.

The Lady of the House and I went Downtown for an Evening Out. On a Friday. You know, like Normal Adults Who Live In, Say, Barrington might. (However, They probably drove their Volvo and paid many Dollars, whereas we took the Brown Line, because we are not Cowards. Workers, put your bodies on the Gears, and all that. But I digress.) We even went to dinner at La Madia, after considering and discarding Rock Bottom, because, as I said, we're attempting to hold off the Icy, Creeping Hand of Suburbia. And because it was crowded.

Here, I divert from the ostensible narrative and criticism of Catch Me if You Can in support of La Madia: they give you free Prosecco if you sit at the bar bit where you can watch people make the pizzas and salads and whatnot. Also, we had a delicious crisp, fresh salad to start - everyone should roast their grapes and that is not a euphemism - and followed that with a goat cheese pizza with prosciutto. The wine list was more than sufficient, the portions were sizable and well-presented, and all that good stuff that Padma et al talk about when they're not talking about Failures of Leadership or whatever on Top Chef.

Again, forgive the digression. (I digress, because I am loathe to talk about Catch Me If You Can, as it is difficult to describe a yawning, black expanse of Absence.) (Though I think I may have just done so.) (Anyway.)

Here's where our story takes a turn: the service was perhaps not the most brisk, and we were perhaps running a bit late. PERHAPS I saw a crostada being prepared in front of us for another table and PERHAPS I had an Old Fashioned (also recommended at La Madia, by the way), and PERHAPS I ordered that and had a 15 minute walk ahead of me, and therefore had to inhale a dessert (certainly above average, though I would've enjoyed a warmer pastry), stuffing several crumbs into my inelegant gob as we exited the restaurant.

Oh, I'm going to have to talk about this play now, aren't I? Well... we walked down Clark Street, and made fun of each other and passers-by, and we laughed at how I pretended like buying movie tickets for her parents when we were visiting was an act of Great Largesse... I got made fun of for my crostada. Which again, I do not regret.

In any event, we arrived at the Cadillac Palace where, as we climbed up to the furthest reaches of the building, we passed several deep lines at the concession areas. Yes, Consumers, purchase Cocktails: they will be required, if for nothing else, as an excuse for why you can't remember anything that happened in this noisy, bright, energetic quantum singularity of a musical, which may be remembered as beautiful while trapped inside the single atom of existence, but no light will ever escape to aid in the retelling. We found our seats just as the curtain grudgingly trudged up. The tune: catchyish? I can hum four notes for you, probably in the right order. The lights: extremely luminous. People were on stage! They were terribly energetic! There were kicklines! Empty, vacuous kicklines! Earned by ... I don't know! Just have a kickline to distract the masses from the Encroaching Darkness! 

The girls seemed pretty! The guys seemed handsome! (Though, due to our cutting-it-closeness, we just grabbed seats in the last row, so the girls could have been cleverly constructed bags of eels, and the guys could've been manatees in suits.)

(Don't steal that. That's my idea now.)

Listen: I saw the movie. You saw the movie. Your mom saw the movie twice, because it only has a little swearing in it, and Oh, But That Leonard Caprio Fellow Is Charming, and Tom Hanks Is In It! And That Unsettling Guy, No, Not Willem Dafoe, the One Who Talks Weird - Did You Know He Was a Dancer, No Not Christopher Walken. Oh, Yes! Christopher Walken. Yes.

Some of us read the book.

Some of us thought that the movie or the book would translate strangely to the stage, but whatever, it's the 60's! You throw a couple of tunes in - I'm always game for an orchestra on stage, by the way - and a couple clever chase-y bits, and away you go. The guy committed escaped custody twice before he was 21. He spent his late teens posing as a pilot and committing bank fraud. COME ON, HOW IS THIS PLAY SO BORING? How? Nothing is memorable. The actors will all get work forever, because they either have legs or pipes or just have that thing where there's no compunction against throwing themselves 110% into whatever multi-hour noisy 60's-ish-themed Zumba class they get paid to put on.

Note: Please, pay me to throw myself into a brightly-lit non-event with a bitchin' jazz ensemble.

Everybody is super-energetic and is clearly working really hard, but it's like you wanted to bake cookies, and took out all the ingredients, and made sure they were just so, and then, instead of baking cookies, you put all of the ingredients into the oven, and then buried the oven in a quarry somewhere, and when people asked where the cookies were, you found a lady to dress up in a Sexy Swiss Army Knife costume and shine bright lights in your eyes, and hand you a adorable, if dumb, puppy. Named "cookies."

You might ask, "What happened to my cookies?" And some guy would give you horse tranquilizers and throw you into a cab.

Full disclosure: we left at intermission. Be good. Hell, be bad, just don't commit the sin of being dull, because I have too much shit to do.

- D

-Tom McGrath

Big Fish (Broadway In Chicago)

"The sets were incredible!" "I loved the projections, I mean really loved them." "Look at how many people were here!"

These are things you should practice saying if you happen to know someone in Big Fish:The Musical playing now at the Oriental Theater.

Now, because all the big papers have a stake in Broadway In Chicago's success, you won't hear any truths from them about this show. In fact, I bet CJ throws this thing 2 1/2 stars.

The problem isn't with the acting, in fact, everyone seems mostly capable. The projections really are beautiful. The lights really are cool.

The problem with this show is in the hands of the composer, the script, and the director.
The staging is lazy, the songs are dumb, and the script is boring.

I remember liking the movie when it came out about 10 years ago. I think? I remember liking the previews and wanting to see it, but then, when the play started, I remember a little more clearly.

The advertise this thing like it is the dang Odyssey, the greatest collection of stories ever told, so let me tell you what it is really about.

This kid named Will comes home to marry some French lady and that means he has to spend time with his dad named Edward, whom he doesn't like because he likes to tell stories that may or may not be true.

"I'm not gonna die this way, because a witch told me differently"- cut to a scene where a witch is singing a song that no one could understand the words to, and then back to the story.

There are a lot of stories like this.
One is about a fish that ate his wedding ring, one is about seeing a mermaid in a pool, one is about meeting a giant, one is about joining a circus, one is about going to college at Auburn University, and then I left at intermission, so I don't know the rest.

But let me tell you, if the craziest story that happens is that a southern guy in the 1950's joins a circus and then goes to Auburn, then you need a couple new stories, brah.

And that kid Will needs to take it easy on his Dad, who is also dying of cancer.

Is this play about a man's love for his father and the complicated way look up to them?
Beats me. It seemed like it was about this whiny kid who has had everything he ever wanted complaining about stuff.

Now, I do understand that this is a preview, which is why they stopped and restarted once, and that maybe the staging isn't done yet (I hope), but I also know what tickets cost ($200 for a couple) and if anybody came to see my show that cost $200 and saw that thing, I would be very upset with myself.

The first act ends with the dad singing a song to the mom about daffodil flowers. Do you know what the words to the song are?

"Daffodiiiiiiiiiiiils, Daffodiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiils, Daffodiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiils" and then daffodils pop up out of the stage.

So...

There ya go.
I can't spend any more time talking about this.


-D+

-Anderson Lawfer, Eric Roach

A Stark Perspective: Things I Will Not Do (Kevin Stark)

Local Actor/Drunk Kevin Stark first warmed our hearts in the role of Screw Up Son in some play with Ora Jones at Steppenwolf and warmed our hearts again in the role of Screw Up Son in some play with accents at Steep. His new column "A Stark Perspective" will be a chance to catch up weekly with this huge talent before he moves on to bigger and weirder things.

Did he steal that watch off a bum?

First Off, I do NOT do Shakespeare. If you ask me for a pair of contrasting monologues, I WILL NOT BE PLEASED! I don't work for free anymore and refuse to perform in cafes, or God forbid, someone's apartment. Also, I don't do open mikes. Also, I will not be expected to memorize lines.

 I will not work at a theatre that isn't directly off the red or brown line without compensation for my travel, or you could pick me up.

 I do not do stylized violence or learn lines “verbatim”, as I go strictly on impulse.  I do not take direction from assholes with degrees from Northwestern, that whack off to hanging with Liev Schreiber and

rapping about his "process", you piece of shit.

 I will not cow-tow to Stage Managers with their various “line notes”.

 I am a real motherfucker with balls of steel, that understands that stage sex is part of the game, dude. I am SO SICK of stealing the spotlight. No one cares how you hold the fucking teacup, hit your mark and tell the fucking truth! Don't be one of those pussy actors in the corner beating their limp, taffy dick, asking if they can stick it in too.

 NO!!!

 You get that dick hard and fuck the stage with me, pussyboy.

 -Kevin Stark

 From your lips to God's ears, Kev.

Join us next week for A Stark Perspective: Surefire Ways To Bang Your CoStar

A+

What the Bulls Win Meant For Me (A Personal Essay)

Sometimes in your adulthood you doubt everything you have decided to do with your life. Your life in the arts (or whatever it is for you) that is seemingly going nowhere, your career choices, what blue jeans you wore that day, etc.

You may stay up all night worrying about a single decision you made the day before. Maybe you said something that could be construed as impolite or rude to a colleague. Maybe you are getting too old for all this bullshit. Why are you still getting zits at this age? Why is everyone that you are PAYING for their services so fucking unreliable? Why can't it just be the weekend so I can be home, not look in a mirror and I can cover my head with a blanket for a few days and just try to recuperate from my own self doubt the constant let down of others. Why did the CTA prices go up if they are just going to cut service? Why are they closing all these goddammed public schools? Where are these kids gonna go? Why is this Gay Marriage thing a big deal?

WHY DON'T WE WANT OTHER PEOPLE TO BE HAPPY?

and why is it still so cold? Cloudy and cold and dark all the time. Is it worth living in this city at all? I know there are other places to live that probably would be HAPPY to have a guy like me in their town. Someplace warm with a nice little community theater and people willing to help you achieve.

Selfless, reliable, happy.

You get home from another rough fucking day full of disappointing phone calls and more headaches.

"Well sir, we still can't tell ya what's wrong with your car, but we charge $80 a day in storage."

"That package you ordered got lost in the mail AGAIN, so expect it to be another 3 weeks."

"This CTA train will be delayed for another 30 minutes."

You get home and just want to watch your Chicago Bulls play a game so you can relax and what do you hear?

"At a press conference, Derrick Rose said that while he is ready to play, he still will not."

"Joakim Noah and Marco Belinelli, who were expected to be game time decisions, will be sitting out tonight."   

"Rip Hamilton's old ass is hurt again."

Which sounds like a typical end to a Chicago sports team season.
Our motto should be:

"Everyone is hurt, the future looks terrible."

Well, that's just par for the course, I guess.
What's that? Oh, we are playing the Miami Heat on a 27 game winning streak? Oh great. That sounds about right for our city right now.

Then what happens?

Nate Robinson hits a couple threes. Luol Deng matches rebounds and assists with LeBron James. Carlos Boozer pushes back for once. Kirk Hinrich rips that fucking ball out of Chris Bosh's hands!

Wait, are we winning? Are we going to win?
Why is everyone cheering? Did something good happen?

And then the buzzer sounds, and the game is over, and the Chicago Bulls have
beaten the unbeatable Miami Heat.

For the first time in a month you can go to sleep without worrying because you saw what can happen when you just stick it out with your team. When you fight, you can win.

Just don't give up. Quit thinking about giving up. Stick to the plan, however impossible or ridiculous it may seem.

Just grow some balls and elbow a motherfucker in the chest and keep walking.


and what's this?

The sunshine is out.



-Anderson Lawfer, Eric Roach

Kill Shakespeare (Strawdog Hugen Hall) (Review by Anthony Tournis)

I was sitting on a beach drinking a Margarita. I was out. Gone. Never going to write

another review again. “Good riddance” I mumbled. It had been a while since my last review but

the image was still burned in my mind. The deadlines…the screaming…the sexual harassment.

As the sound of the surf gently lulled me into a much anticipated slumber I could make out a

man in a white suit coming towards me. This did not bode well. The concierge approached, my

palms started to sweat. “Phone for you, senor” he said with an almost innocent quality. He

didn’t know who was on the other line, and if he did he would probably pray to the god that he

held so dear that this phone call was quick. As he handed me the phone I could see a bead of

sweat trickle down the side of his forehead. That bead of sweat sealed my fate. I put the

receiver to my ear, “It’s time.” That was all that was said. The concierge looked at me with pity.

I looked at him as I rose from my cabana chair, grim determination in my eyes. “Pray for me,

Joaquim. Pray for me.”

On Monday night I saw the latest offering by Strawdog Theater in the form of a graphic

novel come to life…Kill Shakespeare. I read the Kill Shakespeare books when they first came

out. In fact, I reviewed them. I liked them a lot. Read my original view if you want my take on

the story. This version of Kill Shakespeare is unique in its own right. I have never seen anything

like it before. It has the charm of a radio play, the beauty of an art exhibit, and the communal

feeling of a silent film. A lot of thought and technical prowess went into developing this

experience and it really shows. This show is a multi media monster which is tamed by the

incredibly capable designers and crew. From the top notch vocal performances to the insanely

great original music, I and my fellow audience members were thoroughly entertained. This is

the point in the review when I would single out certain performances that I enjoyed more than

others but I can’t do that. Everyone who lent their vocal talents to this show should be

commended on a fantastic job. This is the true definition of an ensemble. The art is absolutely

stunning as well because it is the original art from the graphic novel, only projected in HD. It’s

beautiful. The staging is interesting to say the least. The audience faces two white screens

which have the panels of the comic book projected upon them. The actors stand at the back of

the space and watch the panels as they give their lines to match the panels. It does take a

second to get used to if your brain isn’t trained to read the panels of a comic book, but you pick

up on it quickly and are really able to follow the story.

This shittiest part of this show is that it is coming to an end. I wish that I had seen this

show sooner so I could tell you all to go and see it right now. If this show ever has a second

incarnation, run to see it. If you don’t, then you’re dumb.

Pulling me out of retirement – D

Show rating – A

-Anthony Tournis

Sugarward (The Side Project) JOHN TAFLAN REVIEWER

Sugarward, the boringly mesmerizing new play by Sean Graney (though not directed by Sean Graney; directed by Geoff Button), strikes that delicate balance of being almost impossible to follow if you aren’t paying attention at all and being about several things it’s not ostensibly about.

In four terrible but excellent performances, John Henry Roberts (as Colonel Parke) and Joel Ewing (as manservant Thomas Kirby, former Governor Christopher Codrington, and corrupt sugar baron Edward Chester) have obviously memorized their lines.  And what lines they are!  To be honest though, I didn’t immediately understand some of the words in those lines until I thought about the context in which they were used.  Having then gleaned their meaning via a process of brain engagement, it was exciting because the writer (Sean Graney, who didn’t direct the play) would use them again and again and it was like getting a little treat every time you heard them because you had learned something earlier that you didn’t know before but now that you had learned it it was fun to be in on the joke and all of the sudden realize that a play can be about something other than people just sitting around complaining about a playwright’s loosely fictionalized friends and relatives.  (Also: don’t worry if you’re hard of hearing or feeling, because Joel Ewing projects at Metallica concert-like levels, accompanying every plosive with a justly infused shower of spittle.  [As alluded to above, Joel Ewing does play several different parts which is confusing unless you just accept it.]) 

Geoff Button directed this play as well as he could…which was actually really, really, really well.  He did an awesome job with it.  He spots Roberts and Ewing’s verbal calisthenics when they’re at the polysyllabic pull-up bar and holds their feet when they’re doing emotional sit ups.

Alright.  Let’s get down to brass tacks here.  No more smarming around.

There’s no need for a plot summary, just go see the play and know that what makes it so damn interesting is it’s assertion that the drive to obtain and ultimately possess power is, in fact, less dangerous than the desire men and women have to believe in those who pursue that power.  Oh, and it’s also about sugar.

A

-John Taflan

The Daisey/Williams War of 2013

There is a new controversy stirring in our precious Chicago Theatre blogosphere and this one goes all the way to the top. The people involved are some of the most important players in American Theatre and the web of intrigue will affect us all.

It’s like an episode of REVENGE mixed with an episode of DECEPTION mixed with an episode of WORLD’S FATTEST PEOPLE!

So, our favorite monologist and Kool Aid Man impressionist, Mike Daisey is up to his old tricks in the world of deceit. His new work “The Agony and the Ecstasy of Steve Jobs” created quite a stir among white people when lithpy radio host Ira Glass announced ON PUBLIC RADIO airwaves that it was, in fact, not true!

Everyone piled on Daisey (which believe me, takes some effort and some rope) accusing him of basically raping American theater...even though all he really did is make a bunch of Mac nerd fanboys feel bad for about 30 seconds.

To be honest, we don’t even know what the controversy was about. The dude sits at a table and talks at you for 2 hours. If I expected every dude who sat at a table and told me stories about iphones to tell the truth every time, then... I would be legendary theatre critic Ton “The Fawn” Williands!

See, here in Chicago, legendary stage actor Lance “Pants” Baker has taken it upon himself to perform Daisey’s piece in an effort to change peoples’ minds 30 souls at a time. He’s performed the show repeatedly since Daisey’s Truthsexuality Outing on NPR, with the current production taking place at the 16th Street Theater. Tom “The Glomb” has reviewed the show on his site, and noted that there are STILL some errors in the script, even though Baker is performing the “redacted version,” which takes note of the Glass/Daisey tete a tete.

This is all fine and good. Maybe some Chinaman hurt his arm at a phone factory, maybe he didn’t. Do you care, Audience? Have you ever even SEEN a Chinaman before? Do you even know what an “arm” is?

Torn “The Dragonborn” Billsims obviously takes umbrage with the thought that this piece of theater is guilty of lying to him, but to defend our colleague here...Mr. Billsims thinks that everyone on stage, in movies, on TV, and at the grocery store is lying to him. He may not be sure what lying actually is, you guys.

I saw him yell at a flat soda for lying to him about bubbles. He yelled at Mario when he found out that Luigi wasn’t really his brother.

There was a horribly embarrassing moment once when I saw him repeatedly accuse the Puppet Bike guy of lying to children and him because those animals were dancing too well, and everyone knows that animals don’t dance that well and what the hell was he trying to prove.

So we can sit around and place blame on Toom “The Room” Swilldims for acting like a crazy person, OR, we can blame Mike Daisey for feeding the dragon.

Now, here’s what Mike Daisey wrote on his own blog to Mr. Swilldims, basically calling him out for being a terrible reviewer and a bullshit artist. Now, if anyone knows bullshit artists, it’s definitely Mike “Twinkies4Life” Daisey.

America's Greatest Entertainer

The only guy who walks out of this thing scot free is the man we can all get behind Lance Baker. His handsome eyes would never lie to us. His deep and swarthy baritone voice would never utter a word of hurt.

As for these other goofballs, they need to quit fighting. Neither of them are right. Mike, you got busted for lying on NPR, Todd “The Clod” Fillsom, you are a lunatic.

And, on top of that, you are acting like 14 year olds on YouTube flaming each other. Just look at that comments section y’all! This is a sad state of affairs, because no one gives a rats’ ass except for you two and some d-bag named Eric. Daisey, you have the potential to let go of this crap and go redeem yourself. Do we have to start calling you “The Fat Neil LaBute”? Because, I have no problem with that, I have NOTHING to lose, I am playing Skyrim tonight!

Daisey, why don’t you write a monologue about creepy reviewers? Or what about a hard hitting expose on the handsomeness of Eric and Andy? I would watch you sit at a table and talk about that for 90 minutes at least.

Please, drop this whole “defending” yourself thing. You aren’t Lance Armstrong, even though just as many people give a shit about cycling as one-man shows. I’m telling you, it’s gonna burn you up inside, all this hate. You’ll be headed for a Spaulding GRAVE.

And as for you, Thom “The Mom” Willham, go review a Lookingglass show and yell at the acrobats for lying to you about gravity.

GET OUT OF HERE!

A+

-Eric Roach, Anderson Lawfer
-Anderson Lawfer, Eric Roach

Daniel Day Lewis is a PHONY (Person Review)

Well everyone, the Oscars nominations were released yesterday and everyone is abuzz about some little girl and some movie from France or something and why Ben Affleck didn’t get a handjob for his incredible work in Fargo.

So much controversy and so many things to talk about!

I would like to address something that always seems to bother me and it’s name is Daniel Day Lewis. Lewis is generally considered by everyone to be Earth’s greatest actor because of his transformative properties and intoxicating dialect work, but as I grow older and more interested in the art of acting, I have a few problems with that.

For the sake of comparison, I will only be referencing other white actors, ages 40-60 years old in this article, so if you tuned in to hear me compare Lewis to Angela Basset, then come back another day.

Ultimately, what I am going to try to prove to you through comparisons is that Daniel Day Lewis is a PHONY that should never be nominated for an Oscar and should probably only be doing Children’s Television shows.

Ok, let’s start with a scene that most of us are familiar with. Tom Hanks as Andrew Beckett in Philadelphia. As his character explains the meaning of an opera song to Denzel Washington. In this scene, Tom has a little makeup on and his hair has been lightened. He looks a little sick, but through his own voice, and human facial expressions and script words, we were all brought to tears.

What if Daniel Day Lewis played Andrew Beckett?

Andrew Beckett would have a limp, a thick mustache, he would have lost 45 pounds, an earring and probably a very bad cough, maybe a cane AND the IV thing.

The script would have been the same, so he would be saying the same words, just putting more obstacles in his way and this is where Daniel Day Lewis has us all fooled.

What about Ray Liotta in Goodfellas? There is a very simple and very affective scene where the gig is up and Liotta’s character Henry Hill is driving and behind him, he can see the helicopters coming over the horizon to arrest him. He clears the coke off the dashboard and panics and the scene is incredible. Literally one of the most intense and impressive scenes in film because of it’s simplicity.

What if Daniel Day Lewis was Henry Hill?

Lewis would have gone undercover in the mafia for 2 years to get this scene just right. Hill would have an eye patch and a big mustache. He would be wearing lots of jewelry and they would have to model a special car seat to make him very uncomfortable in the car for this scene, and he would probably need to use real cocaine for the scene and have been addicted for a few months as to not “fake” the emotions he would be feeling in his specially modeled car. Living as Henry Hill would be very hard on Lewis and he would have to retreat to his cobbler shop in Ireland for 3 years after this film to recuperate from his exhaustive performance and all encompassing transformation.

In America, we reward people who overcome obstacles, but in acting this shouldn’t be the way. We look for performances that are true and powerful but we also love the grandeur of disguise and illusion.

So, if you have a scene where you need to walk up to somebody and say “I love you”, the trick is in making your feeling believable, not in making YOU believable. The more crutches you give your character, the more obstacles you are giving your scene mate as well.

So walk over and say “I love you”.

Don’t limp over and whisper it in a South African accent. 

Now, what makes DDL special is his ability to convey anything with all that shit on his face. He is good at it. I am simply saying that we put too much weight into an actor’s ability to go to a costume shop and  spend 3 months living like a Civil War General or whatever.

Do you think DDL could do a romantic comedy like Paul Rudd or Bradley Cooper?

No. But I bet you that Bradley Cooper can put on a bunch of scars and a mustache and take a few voice lessons and be some dirty Irish hillbilly.

Because all actors can play a pirate or a Navajo Warrior for the right amount of money and time, but DDL can’t play a normal dude.

So basically, don’t fall for it. You are as good of an actor as Daniel Day Lewis. You just don’t have the money to get as weird.




A+

-Anderson Lawfer, Eric Roach

Free Black Ship Co. show tonight! (Neverendia)

Bros,

I hate to sound like I am in a rush, but I am busy viewpointing in the Loop!

Do you want a couple free tickets to Chicago's hot new theatre company's show tonight?

Read this letter and then go and see this play tonight!

Dear America,
So you'd like us to throw an industry night? Where Chicago theater people of all stripes can come see Foreverendia & have the cockles of their hearts warmed in a wintery wonderland? You probably want it to be totally free too, huh? Seems legit. We'd like to announce right here below Eric & Andy heady mix of complementary & hostile blogging that we'll be holding an industry night on Wednesday, December 5th at 8:00 pm. You can learn more about the show here: http://www.blackshipco.org/foreverendia and feel free to get friendly with us here: http://www.facebook.com/BlackShipCo Tickets are free & available on a first come first serve basis. Just shoot an email to industry@blackshipco.org letting us know how many seats you'd like to reserve. Hope to see you there!

Sincerely,
Hunter Koerner
Artistic Director and Prince of The Black Ship Company

The Mikado (The Hypocrites) John Taflan

As some day it may happen that an opera must be viewed,

Put this one on your list:

Mikado by the ‘crites.

A fantastic compilation of the bawdy and skewed

In a promenade-y mist

(and there’s booze, if you insist).

Just enter Chopin’s basement and you’ll join a festive throng,

Whose tendency to strum and strut makes right from so much wrong.

(By “wrong” I mean your standard theatre most often passes

As arguments o’er kitchen sinks, four walls, and seats for asses.)

But never mind my bitching, Go!  This play should not be missed.

Put your name upon the list,

(Something something) coexist.

Put your name upon the list!

(Something something) coexist!

In their audience, enlist.

I think you get the gist.

There’s Casey--that’s her family name--and little Shawny Pfautsch

Both pulling double shifts

(That almost rhymed with “list”).

Singing/acting all while playing isn’t for your common slouch,

But two parts each?  That kissed?

A fine quadruple tryst.

When Kahler speaks you cannot help but laugh until you keen.

And Rob McLean was being quite especially Rob McLean…you know what I mean.

Both Bourque and Pawlik’s spunk (along with Schroeder’s) is in season,

And of the girls, I’ll mention Dana Omar for no reason.

Forgive me, Becky and Christine, for I could not resist.

It’s another brilliant twist

From the awesome Hypocrites.

It’s another brilliant twist!

From the awesome Hypocrites!

Sean and Kevin still persist.

Epistemologist.

The Mikado:  A

-John Taflan

The Black Ship Co. is the NEXT BIG THING!

In our lives, we have seen so many theatre companies come and go. Some with great fanfare like Defiant, and some with only a whisper, like Birdbrain Theatre Company.

We loved Birdbrain’s all Asian homosexual take on Oklahoma. Risky. “Okrahomo” was ahead of it’s time.

But what happens in our lovely bubble when a company comes along, does two shows and 1 YouTube video and literally no one has ever heard of them?

Usually, they die a horrible and quick death in the basement of the Athenaeum, but this one...this time it is different because a theatre company has come along and stolen our hearts and imaginations. We have never been as excited for a new theatre company to prove themselves as we are with...

THE BLACK SHIP CO. At least that’s what we think they are called.

Their website doesn’t really describe much of anything, but there are pictures of guys with cardboard swords and blanket capes and the font is pretty awesome.

After reading a third of their website, the back of one of their postcards, and watching the first 45 seconds of their YouTube video, we were convinced. The Black Ship Co. is about to go supernova all over Chicago’s sweet, sweet ass!

Who are these people?

Remember how The House came along and everyone went crazy? And then Strange Tree came and everyone was like “These guys are like the new House except more character based”? Well, we are here to tell you that Black Ship Co. is the new Strange Tree except more blanket based.

We’ve been waiting for a theatre company to come along that seems like they are nice, and not just a bunch of dicks like The Dick Theater Company. Fuck those dudes.

And to prove to you how nice they are, we are gonna ask The Black Ship Co. to have a night where all Chicago Theatre people can come and see their play. We think that would be very fair of them.

Do you think they will even read this?

You know that they will. We are kingmakers and insane secessionists who believe that Obama is controlling the mole people who live in the subways.

So if you see the Black Ship Co. around town, please let them know that we are looking for them because we have never even met them or anything, but we are pretty sure that they are going to be the best theatre in town.

We love you Black Shape Inc.! We know that you are Chicago’s wake up call! Now, give us your women!

You have 24 hours to respond to this blog post or you will indefinitely lose our favor and thus destroying your future successes and standing in this community, Block Shin Corp.

YOU THINK YOU ARE BETTER THAN US????

SHOW YOUR FACES, BLACK SHIP!!!! Or we will board you like Somalian pirates. And then leave you in shambles, scurrying to pick up your crayons and sniff markers.

Please just respond to us. We are sorry we said those things.

Oh, baby, you know how we get at the holidays...here’s a mink stole and an Escalade, my sweetness.

Just think about it ok?


A+ (if you respond in 24 hours)


-Eric Roach & Anderson Lawfer & Black Ship Co.

Macbeth: As The Dust Settles - TheMASSIVE (dance/theater review)

TheMASSIVE’s Macbeth: As the Dust Settles places the tragedy in the devastated and barren American Dust Bowl. As director and TheMASSIVE’s Executive Artistic Director Kyle Vincent Terry writes in his Director’s Note, “In feudal Scotland, the push was for control of land, as land is power. But, what denotes power when the land is barren?” Quite a question, I thought, piqued by how this production would use Macbeth to provoke ideas about mankind’s lust for power, even when there is little to behold.

The characterization of the Weird Sisters is something I often look forward to when sitting down to Macbeth, and TheMASSIVE’s ghoulish ladies (Alain Sharp, Grace Desant, Jennifer Becker, Jenny Maceika, Kate Puckett and Katie Burrows) are intrusively eerie and alluring. The 7 raven-haired “Ghost Dancers” - all near the same height, their skin the same pallid tone - shriek like banshees in a tribal keening over their lost men, and then cackle and hiss as they deliver their notorious prophesy for Macbeth. The Ghost Dancers quickly establish themselves as a catalyst for the misery and destruction of those vying for power.

Enter Macbeth (Shawn Wilson), a Yukon Cornelius type who doesn’t seem to want to hurt a fly, but an Everyman who just wants to get home after a long day of work for a shot of whiskey, chunk of brisket and to listen to his stories on a transistor radio. Baffled by his foretold greatness, he approaches the well-to-do, magnanimous Duncan (Kyle Vincent Terry) with a kind of cautious reverence, aware of what malicious deeds he must achieve to fulfill his destiny. Duncan’s wealth and status in Scott City - coveted by all and the lynchpin for Macbeth and his Lady’s ambitions - is left undefined and vague, as we are not in Scotland fighting over reign, but in Scott City, Kansas in the 1930’s Dust Bowl. Still, our suspension of disbelief allows us to feel the tension, especially with Aila Peck as the relentlessly venomous Lady Macbeth, her style and demeanor capturing both the 1930s era as well as the classic Lady-Macbeth-spiral-into-insanity we all anxiously await.

As stated in his director’s note, Kyle Vincent Terry seeks to explore how “abject poverty often leads to the proliferation of two things, crime and religion” - and his re-imagining of Macbeth certainly strikes those two chords. Throughout the play, Hecate (Raquel Adorno) saunters about, raising her Bible, singing melancholic hymns, her gutteral voice harkening us back to sinister revivalist religion. Pair that with the grainy sound of body after body dragged along a dirt-covered stage and you got yourself some real ambiance. Replacing bloodshed with mud and sand, Terry makes visceral the foul filth of corruption in a desperate futile town.

True to Shakespearean form, things get wild in Act III. When Macbeth meets up to conspire against Banquo (Niall McGinty) - we see the ginger-bearded, bald-headed Yukon Cornelius suddenly turn into Walter White, Season 3 of Breaking Bad - the mad, tortured criminal with everything at stake. Naturally, I started to view the rest of the performance through this lense, particularly the legendary banquet scene when Banquo’s ghost rises and Lady Macbeth/Skylar White struggles to contain her deranged husband. The second half of the performance is riddled with rich moments - Lady Macduff (Mary-Kate Arnold) struggling for her life against the stoic-yet-vicious Lennox (David Russell), Malcom (Michael Allen Harris) conspiring with Macduff (Michael Jay Bullaro) - both with such casual, conversational Shakespearean delivery, while a co-conspirator sits alongside peeling a hard-boiled egg and belching. And of course, the climactic riling up of the whole gang to raise hell against Macbeth and reclaim Malcom’s reign.

I left the theatre tossing over all sorts of questions, and wishing TheMASSIVE had fleshed out the 1930’s Dust Bowl context to connect and supplement the traditional text, as the clamoring for power, security and right to live resounds tremendously from that era. Far from a Shakespeare purist, I am intrigued when theatre companies such as TheMASSIVE transpose his plays to resonate with modern audiences, and I look forward to seeing more bold choices from this innovative company.

-Elizabeth Schmeski

Why You Should Vote For Mitt Romney

I know what you’re thinking just from the title:

Why would these guys vote for Mitt Romney? Why would they try to convince others to do the same?

Well, it’s a pretty simple reason, actually. Over these past couple years, we have been so over exposed to this man, to this American Leader, to continuously hear what he stands for and what he lies about, it has become extremely challenging to not have an opinion of his supporters.

So, unless you are a multimillionaire, why would you vote for Mitt Romney? There are 2 reasons.

#1 is because you haven’t taken the time to learn anything about the candidates, and he has a relaxing and confident demeanor. Mitt has used rhetoric that is nice to hear and promises to “bring manufacturing jobs” back to America!

#2 is because you are a horrible racist.

You might say, “Well maybe I will vote for Mitt because I am a fiscal conservative, I think we are spending too freely and we should leave much of these issues up to the individual states!”

You might say that. In 1988, you might say that.

But let us propose a NEW reason for your vote for Mitt Romney!

If you are reading this blog, you are undoubtedly under 60 years old, and will survive (God willing) for another 4 years without any major health scares.

So if Mitt wins, what will happen to your family?

Well, you will probably incur some health care bills, and your taxes and gasoline will probably slightly rise with inflation. You will probably be just fine. Nothing will go too crazy for you or your way of life.

BUT, for the elderly people who vote for him? The people who have voted against their own well being because they simply cannot stand the site of a Black Muslim as the POTUS?
They will not be well. They will be denied coverage for their throat cancer. They will pay $40,000 a year for their diabetes medicine. Their houses will be taken from them by the same states they wanted to give power to, and will be denied a stay in the last-resort-state-run nursing home, because it has simply become too expensive for them and their families.

The manufacturing jobs these people have been waiting for will never return, leaving these poor uneducated white people without prospects or any life skills to help them obtain a steady income or any avenue to a more hopeful future. They will say how they have been “lied to” and that they thought the millionaire country singers had their best interests at heart.

While they have been denied any access to the medicine they now need to counter the growing throat tumor that has slowly started closing their esophagus, they will wander the streets in their diabetic blindness, looking for a handout from a compassionate person. They will duck in to the last remaining Mom and Pop pharmacy or small business grocery store, asking for help of any kind.

“Anything you can do for me, friend, will be greatly appreciated.”  

But they will not have any friends and it would have been greatly appreciated, but helping others is finished in America. They will need to steal some leaves or tire rubber from the City Garbage Fire to try to keep themselves warm from the night and to hide out from the drifting Rape Gangs that are looking for a nubile young woman to impregnate. (Now that abortion has been outlawed in all cases, Rape Gangs have become the only affordable health care providers for women under 40. But they still like to rape old ladies, too.)

As our elderly Romney fan hides out from these Rape Gangs for the night, sleeping in the gutter that their Grandparents built with taxpayer dollars, their breathing will start to slow down and soon, they will die alone in the cold cold air, surrounded by no one. Stubborn in the fact that they made the right decision because the nice men on FoxNews, the ones who have their best interest at heart and $2000 suits, have told them so.

They will die in the gutter, and with the new privatized waste system, their body will decay until they are unidentifiable. The only clue for one of our last 4 publicly paid detectives will be the EpiPen from 2 years ago, and a Romney/Ryan 2012 bumper sticker that could have gone on the car they couldn’t afford.

So if you are like me, and you have dealt with images of these Tea Partiers chanting in the streets about Communism and Freedom and Liberty and Supporting Our Troops, then you are probably ready to watch these poor old pieces of trash die extremely painful deaths as well.

So go out there and vote for Mitt Romney and Paul Ryan so the people that have been voting against their own interests will finally get what they deserve:

To die alone in the privatized streets like the worthless mindless hillbillies they are!


-Anderson Lawfer, Eric Roach

The Rocky Horror Show - Underscore Theatre (GUEST THEATRICAL REVIEWER ELIZABETH SCHMESKI)

I appreciate theatre experiences in unexpected spaces. Especially those that allow me to drink to my heart’s content. And that feature ferocious talent, audience participation and glowsticks. All of these - and more - were satisfied at Underscore Theatre’s The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Under the brazen direction of Alex Higgins-Houser, Rocky Horror explodes from the catwalk of O’Malley’s Liquor Kitchen, and although there will remain only one performance by the time this review posts - Underscore Theatre’s live incarnation of the cult classic is not to be missed, and ought to be around for Chicago Halloween’s to come.

This cast puts out. Not only are they grinding - occasionally half-naked - up on a raised platform in the middle of a Wrigleyville bar, surrounded by spider web and demonic clown Halloween decor - but they perform the hell out of Richard O’Brien’s sexy, sci-fi, monster musical. Mere moments into “Science Fiction/Double Feature,” the three saucy Usherettes (Miki Byrne, Jillian Mayer, and Brittany Shock) led by the electric Magenta (Leah Isabel Tirado) entice us like cyberpunk Sirens into the world of Rocky Horror, welcoming shoutbacks and singing along. Now, The Rocky Horror Pictures Show has had a following of fishnet stockings-wearing, toast-throwing, rubber glove-snapping fans since midnight screenings started in New York City some thirty-six years ago - and their descendents are certainly present in the crowd at O’Malley’s. But for those of us with a lipstick letter “V” on our foreheads, Underscore Theatre provides a Virgin’s Guide to shoutbacks in their program, and offers $5 Prop Bags to encourage audience participation and “enhance pleasure.” In short, whether you’re a Rocky Horror virgin or seasoned deviant - all are welcome “Over at the Frankenstein Place.”

And new to the bizarre abode of Dr. Frank-N-Furter arrives the recently engaged, Brad Majors (Joe Zordan) and Janet Weiss (Sarah Hoch), who radiate the campy, virginal charm we expect and enjoy from the two characters around which this mad, dark world unfolds. Much credit is due to Zordan and Hoch, and not only for their stellar singing voices and comedic timing - but for their willingness to take off their clothes. Perhaps I’m overly self-conscious and cannot help but project myself into what it’s like having my fellow cast members strip me to my skivvys...but something about it puts anxiety in my imagination. And yet, I keep an appreciation laced with envy for the uninhibited joy of performing each and every Rocky Horror actor brings to this production. And it is a pleasure to behold.

As narrated by the eerily omniscient Criminologist (Harrison Gibbons), Janet and Brad are introduced to the Transylvanians, who wait with heaving breaths and maniacal smiles as the two approach, eager to corrupt them with their rambunctious revelry. As one might expect, “The Time Warp” becomes a jubilant dance party for all, led by the lovably crazed Riff Raff (Chad Michael Innis) and featuring a delightful tap dance from the bubbly, vivacious Columbia (Lianne Rodriguez). Riff Raff and his sister Magenta’s (Tirado) chemistry throughout the show pulses with such mischief and curious sexuality that I wished there existed a B-story of their relationship. But the true knave of the show is in Dr. Frank-N-Furter, who enters through the audience, stirring cat-calls and applause. And justly so. Anthony D’Amato demands the room in his “I Heart Chik-Fil-a” shirt, lace-up knee-highs, and dangling back-pocket hanky - crooning and shrieking and positively alluring.

To be frank, most of the story was lost on me, having only seen the film once. But I didn’t really care. Only vaguely recalling what Dr. Frank-N-Furter was doing with his creation, Rocky Horror (Jonas Davidow), I was a bit confused, but thoroughly enjoyed Davidow’s audacious dancing and upper body strength. Both Eddie (Aaron Stephenson) and Dr. Everett Scott’s (Dustin Rothbart) stories are mysteries to me, but damn could those fellas sing. Though at times the chatter in the bar made it hard to hear the actors, the cast held up, invested and vibrant, every one of them. And when it comes down to it, that’s what you come to The Rocky Horror Picture Show for - wild, raunchy, unabashed fun.

The final performance of Underscore Theatre’s The Rocky Horror Picture Show is next Wednesday, October 31st. Tickets are $29 and includes a drink package from 8-11PM. Attend this rousing holiday treat, and if not - better hope Underscore’s production becomes a Chicago Halloween staple for years to come.

The Woman In White (Lifeline Theatre Company)

Let me preface this review with a little warning:
If you like to look at women’s legs, this is probably not the play for you.

Personally, I can do without legs for 3 hours, so this show was a great fit for me.

Lifeline Theater has a long history of turning long books into long plays and this time they really hit it out of the park!

Let’s start with a long synopsis of the classic “The Woman In White”. The Woman In White is the first modern mystery ever written. It was very popular in 1859 and was written by the legendary Wilkie Collins. The story centers on this girl named Laura and her art teacher, Walter. And her sister?

Well, Laura falls in love with Walter ( a valiant and artistic Nicholas Bailey), but since Walter is poor, she has to marry this guy played by the Acting Robot and Eldritch God of Dialect Robert Kauzlaric. I forgot his character’s name, but he is the bad guy, I think. Then there is this other guy from either Scotland or Italy and all these rats in birdcages on a stick was there, too. That guy was played with great gayness by Christopher Walsh.

Now before you get all uppity about the word “gayness”, let me explain what I mean. If you are on the Jeff Committee, and you are watching an old timey play, the gayer the dudes act, the better the play is. So if you are playing a guy who wears a cape and rings and you have huge monologues that go nowhere, than you better put a little bit of wiggle in those big manly hips of yours. Christopher Walsh shakes those hips with the confidence of a 19 year old twink.

Our woman in white in this production is played with great attractiveness by Maggie Scrantom. This kid has it all. At first you think she is someone else because she is acting like somebody sewed her hands on backwards, but then you are like, “Oh, thank God her hands are on right. She was just doing that Brad Pitt crazy person hands thing.”

A note for actors: All crazy people have no control over their hands.

There is a goofy Frenchman named Louis (played with rawkus hilarity by Greg Wenz), there is a bossy sister (the deliberate and handsome Lucy Carapetyan) and a few different old guys (the always incredible and never bending Don Bender).

BUT, let me tell you where the real acting is in this show. There are 2 women who play 30 characters combined. They are the maids, the housekeepers, the church clerks, the mothers, the wives, and they might have even played the mice in the birdcages! Loretta Rezos and Anita Deely have a super hard job in this show, and they do an incredible job.

When you do plays like this, most theatre goers spend all their time trying to bang the leads, but we actors, we know where the honey is. It’s with the actors who play all the roles that need to be played. You can’t just trust those to anyone, and in my opinion, you save those roles for the most talented actors you can find. Anybody can play a screaming lady or a guy with a mustache, but not everyone can make each of their 6 characters diverse and believable and unrecognizable from the last.

If you are an actor, The Woman In White is a good play to see because it is a Master’s Class in this sort of stuff.

I learned a lot about England and I also had some cookies in their beautiful lobby!

Don’t miss this great show that will keep you thinking about what is happening and who the real killer is!!


A+

-Anderson Lawfer, Eric Roach