Chicago Stage Review

By Venus Zarris

As the house lights go down the standard pre-show instructions begin. Along with asking for cell phones to be silenced we hear, “If you have candy, please unwrap it now or throw it away. The dentists HATE CANDY.” This is funny stuff.

We are then introduced to each performer in a set of introductive expository monologues. The excellent ensemble is tight, confidently setting up the presentational structure of the script and the world of the play. Director Megan Shuchman maintains a great pace and makes wonderful use of her exceptional actors.

Playwright Laura Jacqmin writes some funny scenes and idiosyncratically interesting characters. Despite this being a bunch of dentists, we quickly settle in for a good time. Sadly though, Dental Society Midwinter Meeting never coalesces into a complete story. Instead, our experience is fragmented into hits and misses.

There is a frenetic diatribe on flossing, masterfully delivered by Justin James Farley, which elicits both laughs and a tinge of guilt. Toothbrushes and toothpaste were issued as the audience entered the theater; if dental floss was included in the goodie-bag then I am sure that half of us would have pulled it out and got busy.

Rakisha Pollard and Dana Black deliver brilliant physicality and terrific comic timing in a pantomimed pool scene, combining synchronized swimming and catty conversation to create the plays highlight. Dana Black also shines with subtle sophistication and hysterical humor in an exceptional monologue about drug abuse in the dental industry. Black is outstanding in a cast of already compelling actors.

Still, Jacqmin’s script never takes actual shape. There are poetically fluid observations on ethics and consumerism but the stories that are started are left hanging. We want to care but are never given enough to hold on to. The story’s strongest dramatic build and main conflict thread, a scandalous rumor of indecent and illicit impropriety by the society’s well respected president, comes to a head with a closing speech that we are told about but never hear.

Despite enthusiastically good professional intentions, the Dental Society Midwinter Meeting ultimately proves to be a tax write-off for the dentists and a chance for them to fool around with others that also have extremely clean teeth. Despite enthusiastically good theatrical intentions, Dental Society Midwinter Meeting proves to be an example of a script with promising potential and pleasing polish but more than a few cavities.

2 ½ STARS

(“Dental Society Midwinter Meeting” runs through August 7 at Chicago Dramatists, 1105 W. Chicago Ave. 773-828-4331)

Dental Society Midwinter Meeting

Dental Society Midwinter Meeting production photos by Michael Litchfield.

* Visit Theatre In Chicago for more information on this show. Dental Society Midwinter Meeting - Chicago Dramatists - Play Detail - Theatre In Chicago

By Venus Zarris

The tale of Lizzie Borden is one of those uniquely macabre stories that shines as a beacon of bizarre on the darker side of American history. My first exposure to it was in 1975 when The Legend of Lizzie Borden, a movie for TV starring Elizabeth Montgomery, first aired. It was beguilingly disturbing, the kind of film that you see as a child and then it stays with you for the rest of your life.

On August 4, 1892, Andrew and Abbey Borden were horrifically and repeatedly bludgeoned to death with a hatchet. Despite incriminating circumstances that pointed to Lizzie, she was acquitted of the murders.

40 WHACKS takes this infamous murder mystery and gives it the Annoyance Theater treatment, that is to say it tones down the drama and ramps up the absurd. The production is as charmingly sloppy as the original crime scene was gruesomely bloody. The endearing cast is fully vested in this ramshackle recreation.

It opens with some brilliantly atmospheric incidental music by Lisa McQueen and then launches into mad capped exposition.

“Remember, Sarah is my dead wife and you’re my alive wife, so I want to see more liveliness out of you.” Father Andrew Borden tells Lizzie’s step mom Abby, but if Lizzie has her way the liveliness won’t last for long.

Playwright/Lyricist Aggie Hewitt is on to something deliciously devilish. This story is brutally befuddling, which makes it perfect for dark drama or even darker comedy. The gallows humor swings high and low brow but sadly it never fully snaps the neck. This is a production on the verge.

Act one has some clever bits and enthusiastically silly moments but never coalesces into the potential laugh riot that we are hoping for. Lizzie, manically played by Ellen Stoneking, is childishly creepy but too much of the humor relies on cheap swears. Act two plays with structures and styles to varying degrees of success. The interjection of startlingly authentic facts and ghastly still footage hint at delving deeper into the darkness of the story which could lend itself to delving deeper into the absurd humor, but 40 WHACKS delivers a one-two slap instead of a one-two punch. Rather than basking in how good it was; you leave thinking about how good it could have been.

Still, there are enough laughs to make for a freakishly good time. Director Irene Marquette keeps the talented cast rolling along at a refreshingly fast pace although some of the comic timing needs to be tightened up. Jennifer Estlin’s delivery of the Carpenters’ song “Goodbye to Love”, just before her vicious murder, is a hoot. Noah Gregoropolous creates a consistently funny domineering Andrew Borden and Cristin McAlister’s delivery of the Bob Fosse styled defense monologue is the highlight of the trial.

This show needs a few rewrites to really do the story and comedy justice but as it stands, 40 WHACKS is an incredibly terrific idea presented by a supremely likable team of writer/director/performers that makes for a wickedly fun night.

2 ½ STARS

(“40 WHACKS” runs through August 6 at The Annoyance Theatre, 4830 N. Broadway. 773-561-4665)

The Annoyance Theatre & 40 Whacks

By Venus Zarris

“Less is more” is a statement that more often than not holds true but it appears that the creators of Cirque Dreams Illumination never got this memo. Comically contrived and chaotically cluttered, Cirque Dreams Illumination plays like a Broadwayification of the brilliantly conceptualized shows that have made Cirque du Soleil (no relation or connection to this production) an international phenomenon.

I seldom compare one show to a completely unaffiliated production, but Cirque Dreams takes the concepts of Cirque du Soleil and turns high art into to flashy product. Other than the name starting with Cirque, the similarities are obvious. Amazing international aerial and acrobatic acts are compiled and then framed by a loose atmospheric narrative that is helped along by original music, colorful costumes and creative sets. But despite the glaring similarities and impressive acts, Cirque Dreams Illumination is the poster play for the phrase “often imitated but never duplicated.”

There is a great deal of incredible talent on stage and the show is unquestionably entertaining, but its lack of subtlety and its over-the-top cheesy delivery detracts from the gifted acts that it presents. Let’s talk cheese for a minute. Cirque Dreams Illumination is like a family size pack of processed American cheese food slices, compared to the fine aged and imported Brie that is Cirque du Soleil.

The music is Broadway pop, Each song is belted out without nuance or sincerity. Janine Ayn Romano has a lovely voice and strong presence, but her narrative Reporter/Singer needs to tone down the maudlin interpretation in order for the audience to actually connect. The costumes are gaudy. The set is enticing but far too busy, as is the entire show. Just as you are captivated by an exceptional circus act, fluttering minutia prances across the stage by way of pointless dances or worse yet, performers costumed as giant inanimate objects such as fire hydrants or painter’s overalls. These cartoonish visuals resemble Sid and Marty Krofft’s 1970’s Saturday Morning Kid’s shows, such as Lidsville or H.R. Pufnstuf and make no sense whatsoever.

The Cirque Dreams creators should trust the fact that their gifted aerial and acrobatic acts don’t need the peripheral razzle-dazzle. If left as the focus, the impact of their talent would be far greater.

Still, there are enough of these great acts to make the evening a fun ride. Standing out in this extravaganza of over stimulation are the Percussion Juggler playing a set of drums with bouncing balls, the Director of Passer-byes audience member participation clown act, the Strap Flyer beautifully drenched in water, the Hand Balancers and most impressively the Cube Aerialists. These four women move with spider-like peculiarity, breathtaking grace and unbelievable agility as they form geometric shapes with their combined bodies while hanging from a suspended cube. The only thing wrong with this act is that we only see it once in the first act. This is a show that has never heard the word restraint and so since “more is more” is the theme, why not give us an encore of the most hypnotizing act?

Cirque Dreams Illumination is a lot. It is a lot of visual excess. It is a lot of showy silliness. It is a lot of stealing focus but it is also a lot of incredible world-class circus talent and a lot of fun.

2 ½ STARS

(“Cirque Dreams Illumination” runs through June 6 at the Bank of America Theatre (Shubert), 18 W. Monroe. 800-775-2000)

Cirque Dreams Illumination 2010 (Chicago) Tickets - Broadway in Chicago

By Venus Zarris

Orphans of the new millennium, where are your parents?

This is the question that runs through your mind while watching The House Theatre of Chicago’s new musical GIRLS VS. BOYS. In it, high school kids exist in a hyper reality of partying and sexual excess while they maneuver blindly through the emotional chaos of adolescence and sing some wonderful songs in the process.

This is a cast of immense enthusiasm, dedication and skill but GIRLS VS. BOYS suffers from that virus that attaches itself to many musicals, the virus of great songs and gifted performers floating in a script that can’t stand up to the music and talent involved. This does not doom a musical. As a matter of fact, this is a pretty common dilemma that plagues a good percentage of musicals, both old and new. I can think of several popular, successful and even extraordinary musicals that carry and overcome the weight of a weak or problematic book.

GIRLS VS. BOYS is one that carries the weight so well, it is easy to get past the snippets of melodrama that propel the story. The snippets are delivered by outstanding actors who manage to infuse their characters with surprising depth and they set up exceptional songs presented in a conceptually creative concert framework.

George, high school senior and lady’s man, is having a wild keg party. Casey, super-cool-loner senior, comes looking for his freshman sister Sam. Kruger has hooked up with Kate, which is cool because they are both totally awesome, but when his ex-girlfriend Lane shows up (after getting an abortion) things get understandably less awesome. Everyone is packing pistols; metaphors for their explosive hormones, fluctuating angst and the defenses that the kids raise and lower depending on how vulnerable they feel.

But don’t let the “O.M.G – W.T.F?” exposition scare you off. This cast takes a sophomoric story line that is inhabited by characters that you could easily dislike or not care about and renders an exciting theatrical event.

Enough can’t be said for the wonderful cast. Kevin Stangler makes a charming delight out of his superficially misogynistic George. Whitney White delivers Kate with a set of pipes that knocks your sox off. Joel Gross captures the brooding allure of grunge in his performance of Kruger. Tyler Ravelson and Nicky Scheunke bring an honestly awkward chemistry to their powerful portrayals of Casey and Lane. Dillan Arrick is darling as Sam and Briana De Giulio stands out in an already outstanding ensemble. You can’t help but be drawn in by the energy and presence of these completely vested performers.

Enough can’t be said for the terrific pit band. They create the thrill of a live concert and perfectly compliment the production. Ethan Deppe’s musical direction brings the best out of the singers and musicians.

Enough can’t be said for the tremendous original music by Kevin O’Donnell and Nathan Allen. There is more than one magical musical moment to be found in GIRLS VS. BOYS. Bigger hits have been made from musicals with far less musical merit. Song for song; GIRLS VS. BOYS knocks shows like RENT out of the water and if it had a decent book it would rock your evening out of the park. As it stands, it rocks pretty hard.

If you already have a problem with the suspension of disbelief that a musical requires of you or if your musical taste falls under the “old school” heading; GIRLS VS. BOYS might not work. But if you want to see and hear some exciting new music delivered by an infinitely compelling cast from a theater company that has made a name for itself by fearlessly taking creative risks, The House Theatre of Chicago’s GIRLS VS. BOYS is the show for you. From the supercharged opening to fantastic finale, GIRLS VS. BOYS is an impressive and entertaining production.

2 ½ STARS

(“GIRLS VS. BOYS” runs through May 29 at the Chopin Theatre, 1543 W. Division Street. 773-251-2195)

The House Theatre of Chicago

Chopin Theatre :: Event

GIRLS VS. BOYS production photos by John Taflan.

CLOSING WEEKEND!

By Venus Zarris

I have to start out by saying that I love Babes With Blades. This is a theater company that takes its unique collective passion for stage combat and strives to create compelling theater. Some might consider them a fetish company because of their mission statement but they are no more so than Wild Claw Theatre, Trap Door Theatre, Chicago Shakespeare Theatre or many others. Their dedication to both the craft of storytelling and the craft of stage combat is inspiring.

In this world premiere production of playwright Arthur M. Jolly’s A Gulag Mouse, Babes takes us to a Siberian gulag in the post-war Soviet Union of the 1940s. Survival is measured on a day-to-day scale in this frozen hell on earth. The result is a vicious pecking order where everyone is scrounging for scraps.

The script is straightforward and engaging but not extraordinary. The gifted ensemble brings it to life with a collective presence that fully inhabits the bleak reality. These are women who can’t afford the luxuries of decency, loyalty or humanity. There is evidence that they were once there, but these admirable traits are now sad and dangerous liabilities.

The play opens with a dramatic exchange in the fog. Anastasia’s brutal husband returns home from the war to find his wife less than welcoming. Her independence makes his bullying intolerable and she defends herself with deadly force. The result is an “out of the frying pan and into the fire” incarceration.

Jeff Lisse’s exceptional set design creates the gulag to punitively breathtaking end. We are there, transported to this frozen and forgotten prison. It is as visually austere as it is emotionally cruel. Leigh Barrett’s lighting design and Jessica Pribble’s costume design complete the visual despondency with striking effect.

Fight choreographer David Woolley begins the punitive sentence with a powerful brawl that eliminates any shadow of doubt that there might be a glimmer of compassion left to cling to. Unless you serve the purpose of survival it is kill or be killed.

“Something always breaks. It is the nature of the world.”

The fights are excellent. At times a bit sloppy but the claustrophobic space is used well and what the fights might lack in polish they more than make up for in tenacity. Two things break the illusion of a staged fight. One is lack of practice, as without it there is no chance for the creation of visual spontaneity, character consistency or story fluidity. The other is hesitation. A slight pause before a strike or blow and the exchange becomes a telegraphed premeditation rather than an impetuous altercation.

Rest assured there is no hesitation from this cast. They tear at each other like hyenas to a freshly stolen kill and the result is an escalation of tension that holds you fast and them furious to the story.

Sadly, director Brian Plocharczyk never establishes the focus needed to fully realize the play. It seems as if the actors are left to fend for themselves as much as the inmates in the gulag. They are extremely talented and admirably dedicated, but without a unifying vision the play spirals into a dramatic chaos.

Amy E. Harmon plays Masha, the bullying antagonist of this lord-of-the-flies tale of treachery. She is wild and wonderfully wicked but starts at such a fevered pitch that there is nowhere to go. When you start on the ceiling there is no room for build and so theatrical grandstanding becomes the default. This too-much-too-soon turns the character into a cartoon villain rather than a three-dimensional threat. Harmon is capable of great subtlety and nuance but little can be found and so the conflict leans towards maudlin instead of menacing.

Masha’s hostility sets so much of the pace and tone that this makes it difficult to bring the audience back to the story at hand. Delia Ford, as Svetlana, Stephanie Repin, as Prushka and Gillian N. Humiston, as Anastasia, manage to reign in much of the chaos with powerful performances and Kathrynne Wolf adds remarkable depth with her incredible portrayal of Lubov.

As it stands, this show is well worth your time. This is a cast that is so driven, intuitive and intelligence that, even without more discerning direction, there a strong signs they will more fully and believably inhabit their parts and the story with each passing performance. Harmon has the potential for iniquitous brilliance and Babes With Blades production of A Gulag Mouse has the potential for theatrical excellence.

2 ½ STARS

(“A Gulag Mouse” runs trough May 1 at Trap Door Theatre, 1655 W. Cortland. 773-904-0391)

CLOSING WEEKEND!

Babes With Blades

A Gulag Mouse production photos by Johnny Knight.

By Venus Zarris

The Hypocrites prove that a production can be extremely entertaining as well as disjointed and emotionally immature with their enthusiastic rendition of Cabaret. The show is attractive and the talented cast is working overtime to delight the audience but the play never comes together as a fluid piece of story telling.

We are treated to excellent incidental jazz by the exceptional band as we take our seats. The show begins. Lighting, costumes, adaptation of the unique space at the Storefront Theatre and the cast all look great. Jessie Fisher is solid and engaging as the Emcee but lacks the omnipotent confidence and otherworldly seduction needed to set the opening tone for the location of the Kit Kat Club and establish the character as an atmospheric story thread. We’re enticed but not dazzled.

The musical numbers are fun but the show starts out playing the shtick, going for the humor but not yielding enough of it and looking very sexy but lacking sexual chemistry. We are shown delightful depravity and decadence but we don’t feel it. This establishes an emotional and sexual immaturity to the production that makes it difficult to believe the characters beneath the surface of their performances. Most of the drama is played as melodrama and so were never fully invested.

“Tomorrow Belongs to Me” finally gives us something to sink our teeth into. The choral work is beguiling. Then the heavy-handed tactics begin. Instead of establishing the pending Nazi take-over of pre-WWII Germany as a menacing part of the climate throughout, we are beaten over the head with it abruptly and then repeatedly. The Nazi threat is delivered with shocking scenes that culminate in a brutal finale. If we could take the rest of the show seriously this might work but the lack of the production’s dramatic depth and tension make these scenes seem forced. Act 3 is so dark that it plays like the third act of a completely different production.

There is a lot to like about the show. Mike Przygoda’s musical direction and Marissa Mortiz’s choreography are excellent. Alison Siple’s costume design is thrilling. The Emcee’s costume for the musical number “Money” is whimsically wonderful. The cast is steadfast and charming. Everyone delivers exceptional performances. Dana Tretta is outstanding in the chorus. Kate Harris, as Fraulein Schneider, and Jim Heatherly, as Herr Schultz, create the most honest characters in the production. Harris’s rendition of “What Would You Do?” is a powerfully compelling highlight.

Matt Hawkins is a brilliant director. His Red Noses at Strawdog Theatre and Hatfield & McCoy at The House Theatre of Chicago stand as some of the most incredible productions seen on Chicago stages in the past few years. He makes some interesting conceptual choices and creates an enjoyable evening that is well worth your time but this Cabaret lacks the subtlety, nuance and dramatic continuity to reach its extraordinary potential. You’ll like it. You just won’t believe it.

2 ½ STARS

(“Cabaret” runs through May 23 at the Storefront Theater, 66 E. Randolph St. 312-742-8497)

Cabaret | DCA Theater - Chicago Dept. of Cultural Affairs

The Hypocrites We Make Theater

Cabaret production photos by John W. Sisson.

By Robert Andersen

The Ghosts of Treasure Island - A Pirate Musical

Adventure Stage presents its latest book adaptation for younger audiences.  This season’s opener is an adaptation of the 1883 classic by Robert Louis Stevenson cleverly written by Eric Schmiedl of Cleveland, Ohio.  Mr. Schmiedl created this work for the Oregon Children’s Theatre, in collaboration with the pirate rock band Captain Bogg and Salty, where it debuted in April of 2008.

The best way I can start this review is with the first questions from my 11 year old daughter, “I thought they said this was a musical.  Why weren’t there any ghosts?”  I then had to try and defend the concept of the director and playwright.  My first response was that “not all musicals are about the actors singing and dancing.”  “But then what makes this a musical?” she asked.  I replied, “Well, there was the band that sang and interacted a little with the actor’s and the singer kind of danced around.”

The lack of ghosts was a little more involved.  During the post show “curtain conversation” Glenn Stanton, who played George Merry, offered that the “ghosts” were the men of Captain Flint’s original crew who were killed in order to keep secret the location of the treasure.  He went on to explain that there were men in the performance who died and then came back to life to portray the “spirits” that haunt those who seek the treasure.  The young girl who asked the question didn’t buy it either.

Once you get past the initial “HUH?” the show has some strong production points.  The technical aspects apart from the band, which was more of a heavy metal interruption than the rock-and-roll style that they were shooting for, are cleverly conceived and work well for the many location areas.  I particularly like the disappearing mast and use of actual sails.  The costumes are adequately creative and the peg leg of John Silver is exceptional.  Firght Choreographer Matt Hawkins does an excellent job of having eight swords slashing simultaneously.  The actors roll and tumble, slash and parry, and exit seamlessly after dying.  He even throws in some enjoyable slow motion movement timed well with the music.  The actors all carry their accents well with their personal characterizations.  Of note in their “characterizations” are Adam Verner as Ben Gunn, his movement and third person conversations are spot on; James Zoccoli as Long John Silver really sells the leg and Silver’s conniving disposition; and Reginald Kent Robinson Jr. who portrays Squire Trelawney with perfect the pomp and arrogance.

Overall the show is entertaining.  Director Amanda Delheimer presents a very good interpretation of the script.  However, don’t call this a musical because there is a band on stage singing songs about pirates and if anyone is supposed to be a ghost, “raucous” or not, make them look like a ghost.

Jim Hawkins learns that sometimes your dreams and ambitions are not all you thought they would be, enough said.

2 ½ STARS

(“The Ghosts of Treasure Island” runs through May 20 at Adventure Stage Chicago, 1012 N. Noble Street. 773-342-4141)

Adventure Stage Chicago

The Ghosts of Treasure Island production photos by Johnny Knight.

By Venus Zarris

Thirty years ago I was in love with the musical Evita. I bought the album before I saw the first Shubert Theatre production in Chicago. I knew the musical by heart before walking in and I saw that production three times.

Thirty years ago I was in love with Patti LuPone and Mandy Patinkin. The musical range and dramatic depth that they brought to the original Broadway cast recording crystallized the score. I fell in love with Evita because of them and, like so many others; I fell in love with them because of Evita. Although the cast of that original Broadway tour was outstanding, as close to LuPone and Patinkin as could be found, I would have sold a kidney to see the original dream team on Broadway.

Thirty years ago I never would have imagined that I would have the opportunity to see these two iconic musical theater legends perform together, live on stage. Even more unimaginable, I never would have thought that this dream performance would fall so flat.

Let’s get one thing straight. They still have the presence and the chops. Waxing poetic about their remarkable talent is so obvious that it borderlines on cliché. Suffice it to say, they are still incomparably gifted performers.

So what went wrong?

Quite simply, they did not perform ONE song from Evita.

Perhaps this seems like an oversimplification. Perhaps this seems like a pedestrian or superficial evaluation. Perhaps this seems like a totally personal filter or bias to appraise the performance from. Although those notions are to some extent true, they are far from feelings that only I walked away with. My guest was livid. The people in the lobby were irritated, to put it lightly. We overheard women badgering the poor CD table attendant about this, asking her why they didn’t perform Evita songs as if this young girl had anything to do with the evening’s musical line-up.

Even more so than the outrage of many in attendance, (there was even a comment on Broadway In Chicago’s Facebook fan page saying that the show was terrible because of the absence of anything from Evita) the fact remains that it was a very reasonable expectation.

Evita is mentioned in the first line or paragraph of every piece of information in my press kit. It is mentioned in the blurb about the show on the Broadway In Chicago website. THE SONG “DON’T CRY FOR ME ARGENTINA” IS LISTED IN THE PROGRAM as the closing number of the first act!

ONE SONG - it would not have been enough to completely satisfy this Patti/Mandy/Evita loving crowd but it would have been enough to make us thrilled beyond measure. It would have made a slice of that decades-long dream come true and it would have been enough to fulfill the written obligation of what was listed in the playbill, expected and desperately wanted.

We got five songs from South Pacific. We got five songs from Merrily We Roll Along. We got Follies, Gypsy, Into the Woods, Company and more. We even got six numbers from Carousel.

The complicated numbers are masterfully delivered. It is clear that Evita was not avoided because LuPone or Patinikin can’t handle the demands of the music.

An Evening With Patti LuPone And Mandy Patinkin is conceived by Mandy Patinkin and Paul Ford and directed by Mandy Patinkin. For that reason I’m going to assume that the buck stops with Painikin when it comes to the songs selected for the show. Taking the absence of Evita out of the equation altogether - although the performances are excellent the musical selections are, on whole, less than remarkable. There were some shining moments but for all of the Sondheim selections, it could have used a number from Sunday in the Park with George and something from Sweeney Todd as well.

LuPone and Patinkin are still arguably the King and Queen of musical theater but even royalty must realize that we need to be tossed a few bones.

If they don’t care for the music from Evita or are so tired of being associated with the musical then they should NOT list it at the beginning of their bios and it should not be the lead to everything written about this show.

I really like oatmeal but when I make the trip to 95^th and Western to go to Rainbow Cone, I want ice cream. An Evening With Patti LuPone And Mandy Patinkin is that irritating of a bait and switch, especially for the price of a ticket at the show.

If you are a devoted fan of these two supremely talented performers, An Evening With Patti LuPone And Mandy Patinkin is a great opportunity to see them in action but if you are wanting to see a glimpse of the Evita and Che that made them international stars; go back to your music collection, insert the soundtrack into your stereo and hit play.

2 ½ STARS

(“An Evening With Patti LuPone And Mandy Patinkin” runs through March 7 at the Cadillac Palace Theatre, 151 W. Randolph. 800-775-2000)

An Evening with Patti LuPone and Mandy Patinkin 2010 (Chicago) Tickets - Broadway in Chicago

AFTERTHOUGHT: I am still more mad at Madona for “singing” songs from Evita than I am mad at LuPone and Patinkin for NOT singing songs from Evita.

An Evening With Patti LuPone And Mandy Patinkin production photos by Brigitte LaCombe.

By Venus Zarris

In order to march the whole band out, beat the drums and love the entire parade of Funny Girl, we need a Fanny Brice that draws us in with humor, charm, charisma and vulnerability; as well as a great set of pipes. That is to say that, we need a fully three-dimensional character to care for, root for and sympathize with. Although Sara Sheperd does not rain on the parade of Funny Girl, her well-sung and adequately charismatic performance of Fanny is partly cloudy.

Funny Girl tells the rags-to-riches tale of one of Vaudeville’s most successful stars. From chorus girl to headliner, Fanny Brice (as embellished by Jule Styne’s music, Bob Merrill’s lyrics and Isobel Lennart’s book) sings, dances and clowns her way to the top. She has enough confidence in herself to believe that she is the greatest star and reminds everyone around her of it. Fanny falls in love with Nick Arnstein, a dashing high-class gambler, and believes that the same hootspa that makes everything right on-stage can do the same off-stage. Sadly, real life is harder for Fanny than the characters that she plays and the songs that she belts out.

Director William Osetek compiles a talented ensemble of peripheral characters. Iris Lieberman and Catherine Smitko are brilliant as Mrs. Strakosh and Mrs. Brice, Fanny’s neighbor and Mom. Paul Anthony Stewart is wonderful as Nick Arnstein. The rest of the cast and chorus are excellent.

Ben Johnson’s musical direction is inconsistent. Some songs are too fast, some are too slow, some are too polka and some are just right. The musical telegraphing of what we should be feeling and when we should be clapping isn’t necessary.

Sara Sheperd’s Fanny is likeable but not very believable and not very funny. To be fair, this is a marathon part and she is stepping into some iconic shoes. Sheperd’s efforts are enthusiastic and she handles the music beautifully but there is little chemistry between Fanny and Nick. The character needs more nuance and less schtick to completely deliver the dramatic build and climax of the story.

Drury Lane Oakbrook’s lovely production is a well-polished rendition of this classic musical but it does not realize the full emotional potential of the play. Still, this is an attractive show with a better than solid cast. If you love Funny Girl, you will enjoy the show. If you are not a devoted fan, you’ll have a good time.

2 ½ STARS

(“Funny Girl” runs through March 7 at Drury Lane - Oakbrook, 100 Drury Lane, Oakbrook Terrace. 630-530-0111.)

Drury Lane Oakbrook - Now Playing at Drury Lane Theatre

Extended by popular demand through April 18.

By Venus Zarris

For years, I have had ongoing conversations with many people about the possibility of being genuinely terrified while watching a play. Although in so many ways, theater connects on a more immediate and living/breathing level than film, the suspension of disbelief sits on top of the reality that we are watching people playing parts. No matter how well the parts are played you believe that they, and you yourself, are safe because unlike in a film where you can loose yourself in the notion that this is really happening somewhere else, in the theatre you inhabit the same physical location as the actors. There may be an unexpected jump or a wonderfully evocative atmosphere, but at the end you know that there will be a curtain call and everyone will happily go back to the real world.

So what would it take to pull you far enough away from that reality of your actual location? In the case of Martin McDonagh’s award-winning script, it is the storytelling, both theatrical and literal, that sweeps you away to terrifyingly dark possibilities. Theater is storytelling and The Pillowman establishes McDonagh as a grand master of the darkest recesses of imaginary malevolence. He takes us to places that we dare not dream, because if our nightmares resembled anything like these stories we would be living on enough trucker speed to ensure a sleepless existence.

The play opens with Katurian blindfolded, sitting at a table under one hanging light. Tupolski, the first interrogator, enters the room. We are as in the dark as Katurian seems to be about the nature of his arrest, but as the layers are peeled off of this relentless situation the mounting indictments are staggering.

Unlike the popular trend of ‘torture porn’ horror films that highlight acts of atrocity as main events with little to no psychological or emotional dissection or depth, The Pillowman is not spectacle brutality but rather a roller coaster ride that plunges into the core of the unconscionable with only a bit of actual physical displays of violence, much of which is stylized rather than realistic. The implied is almost always more shocking than the displayed and McDonagh’s implications are viscerally overwhelming.

One cannot wax darkly poetic enough about the parameter stretching effects of this brutally beguiling script. It is simply put, a macabre masterpiece of the mind bogglingly morbid and morose. Story after story we are ravaged by a spellbindingly sinister imagination. Still, McDonagh manages to extract dark humor, at times laugh-out-loud funny, that provides brief but generous relief from the crushing bleakness. The circumstances are so diabolically grave that you almost feel compliant while laughing. The welcome humor makes you, in part, party to the madness that you are simultaneously repulsed by.

Director Kimberly Senior takes this huge literary undertaking and scales it into a tiny black box to chilling effect. The interrogation happens quite literally in your lap and the staged stories happen on both sides of the seating area. Thanks to scenic designers Anders Jacobson and Judy Radovsky, the presentational stories and the representational reality of the play are visualized with striking and incredible contrast. Christopher Kriz’s original music and sound design add both authenticity to the representation and sinister atmosphere to the presentation.

But the uneven cast does not completely deliver the full impact of this complicated script. Tom Hickey is subtly remarkable as Tupolski. The sophistication that he brings to his performance allows a natural restraint as the ‘good cop’ that proves disturbingly threatening. Calm, calculated, glib and sparingly harsh, he is in control of an out-of-control situation. Peter Oyloe is charmingly vulnerable as the sweetly simple minded Michal. Our connection to his childlike nature makes the twisted epiphanies of his story all the more devastating.

In contrast, Johnny Garcia’s depiction of Ariel is unconvincingly heavy handed. His handling of the dialogue is at times cumbersome and we are never really frightened by his rage because we never truly believe it. Likewise, Andrew Jessop never makes a strong enough delineation between the story-telling Katurian and the fearing-for-his-life Katurian. This character carries the heaviest weight of the script by being faced with the almost certain loss of all that he holds dear but Jessop’s characterization never fully shows the burden. He conveys a smug narcissism regarding his story writing, but we never believe the peril that he is faced with.

One scene begins as he is tossed into a cell with his brother after a torture session but there is little evidence of the duress of this experience, physically or emotionally. It is hard to imagine that he was manhandled, much less brutalized.

Jessop is a strong storyteller, which the part most certainly calls for, but the depth of his unimaginable circumstances is only technically suggested rather than honestly brought to life.

The rest of the cast handles the peripheral parts well but the overall production, although solid and effective, is far from complete. We should leave the theater ravaged by the experience. Instead we leave stunned by the script.

Kimberly Senior is a remarkable director and restraint often makes the better choice, but her interpretation is a softer incarnation of The Pillowman than the script demands and deserves. Still, this production is strong enough to more than warrant your time and for the sake of experiencing one of the most remarkably challenging and darkly imaginative scripts you will ever see; Redtwist Theatre’s The Pillowman should not be missed.

2 ½ STARS

(”The Pillowman” extended by popular demand through April 18 at Redtwist Theatre, 1044 W. Bryn Mawr. 773-728-7529)

Redtwist Theatre, Chicago

The Pillowman production photos by Clarissa Jessop.