Review: The Maid of Orleans (Strangeloop Theatre)

  
  

Strangeloop’s ‘Maid’ not strange enough

  
  

A scene from Strangeloop Theatre's production of "The Maid of Orleans" by Friedrich Schiller.

  
Strangeloop Theatre presents
   
  
The Maid of Orleans
   
     

Written by Friedrich Schiller
Directed by Bradley Gunter
at Trap Door Theatre, 1655 W. Cortland (map)
through May 29  |  tickets: $5-$15  |  more info

Reviewed by Barry Eitel

In the centuries since her fiery demise in 1430, the story of Joan of Arc has inspired volumes of plays. Shakespeare paints an unflattering picture of the girl in part 1 of Henry VI, seeing her as a scheming enemy of the English. Probably the most influential depiction of Joan (while not the most accurate) is Friedrich Schiller’s The Maid of Orleans, written a little over two hundred years ago. He dramatizes almost her entire life, from her shepherding origins to her death on the battlefield (I suppose burning someone at the stack was too hard to stage). His five act play inspired operas by Verdi and Tchaikovsky as well as a slew of films. Schiller is a major force in shaping Joan the cultural icon as we think of her today.

A scene from Strangeloop Theatre's production of "The Maid of Orleans" by Friedrich Schiller.With such a strong German history in Chicago, I’m always a little surprise the Teutonic greats don’t see more stage time. We have streets named after Schiller and Goethe. There’s a Buchner love-fest going on right now, and Brecht pops up every season (as he should)—but the Continent’s answers to the Bard are oft ignored.

Not by Strangeloop Theatre, who cram Joan’s epic venture onto the Trap Door stage stage. And they go balls to the wall, using a 1840s translation and avoiding flourishes. However, it’s an arduous, creaky journey, with brief moments of excitement punctuating long spats of monotony.

I left yearning for some unifying concept, something that would make Schiller’s ode more relevant. But director Bradley Gunter doesn’t bring much to the table, which is a shame because Joan’s story is so moldable and Schiller’s script so rich. Gunter puts up a very sobering production, one bordering on stale. They end up with a museum exhibit on their hands.

A lot of the problem is due to Anna Swanwick’s dusty translation. It’s in the public domain, I get it. But that also means you can change it up, zap it with modern sensibilities. Strangeloop could’ve taken a tip from the Woyzeck Festival and put up an adaptation, probably coming up with something much more zesty. In order to ask an audience to sit through a two and a half hour ordeal, a production needs more conviction. The audience deserves more effort than those that conjured up this production put forth.

     
A scene from Strangeloop Theatre's production of "The Maid of Orleans" by Friedrich Schiller.q A scene from Strangeloop Theatre's production of "The Maid of Orleans" by Friedrich Schiller.
A scene from Strangeloop Theatre's production of "The Maid of Orleans" by Friedrich Schiller. A scene from Strangeloop Theatre's production of "The Maid of Orleans" by Friedrich Schiller.

That’s not to say there isn’t anything noteworthy about Strangeloop’s creation. If you really, really crave Schiller or the Joan of Arc story, it’s worth a peek. And the swordplay, crafted by Libby Beyreis, adds much needed jolts of excitement.

In general, it’s a well-acted play, even if many of the supporting performances seem as stiff as the translation. Letitia Guilaud’s wide-eyed Johanna (Joan) is a joy, kicking loads of butt for France. She bobbles in more vulnerable scenes, especially one moment where she awkwardly sings to the audience. Yet Guilaud is petit and ferocious, all that we want Joan to be. Paul Tinsley takes great relish in playing the English scoundrel Talbot, and we feel it in the house. One of my favorite performances was Jodi Kingsley’s Queen Isabel, who sides with the English against her native France. She grips onto the language with grace, making the text oddly modern. It’s what the rest of the production aspires to be.

The production values are too simple to work well, especially costumer D.J. Reed’s decision to put everyone in modern dress. Nothing else feels modern, so the shirts and ties feel like a cheap and easy substitute for real period dress. Quite simply, Gunter’s vision lacks innovation. Joan was leading whole armies as an uneducated teenager. We at least owe her some creativity.

  
  
Rating: ★★
  
  

The cast from Strangeloop Theatre's production of "The Maid of Orleans" by Friedrich Schiller

     
     

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Review: 6th Annual Chaos Festival (Point of Contention)

  
  

Where ten writers write ten plays actualized by ten directors

  
  

chaos festival 6th annual poster big

  
Point of Contention Theatre presents
  
The Sixth Annual Chaos Festival
  
at Lincoln Square Theatre, 4754 N. Leavitt (map) 
through April 6  | 
tickets: $15  | more info

Reviewed by Katy Walsh

Lovers, killers, single-cell organisms, survival is dependent on embracing the chaos.  Point of Contention Theatre Company presents The Sixth Annual Chaos Festival. Ten writers wrote ten plays actualized by ten directors.  The cluster of ten minute shows is a showcase sampling of new work.  It’s something for everyone on the all-you-can-eat-buffet.  The morsel nibbling allows for tasting a variety of a la carte offerings without getting stuck with a dissatisfying main entree.  For the curious palate, it’s a series of one bite wonders.  If it’s sweet, there is the next daily special by the actors, writer, or director to crave. If the recipe is bland, a future spicier version could bring out the flavor.

Second Helping, Please 

Three of the shows were unique, lip-smacking, gourmet surprises.  Minutiae written by Barry Eitel, is an evolutionary exploration of scientific wit.  Under the direction of Rachel Staelens, Nicci Schumacher and Rafael Torres spar in a lively, rambunctious survival of relevance.  The Four Senses of Love written by Arthur M. Jolly is a hilarious coupling of two members of a sensory-deprived support group.  Under the direction of Brandon Boler, individually and collectively, Jonathan Helvey and Lisa Cordileone sarcastically work through their affliction with no senses.  Wet Work written by Jenny Seidelman is an intriguing, comedic encounter between two very opposite men.  Under the direction of Brandon Baisden, Ray Ready plays it perky, irritant to an established, smoldering Joshua Volkers.  The odd duo captivates to an unexpected conclusion.

Can’t Make Out the Taste, But I Like it

Two of the shows aroused with a lingering aftertaste. Jib and The Big Still written by Elizabeth Birkenmeir is a guy zoning out to avoid the chaos around him.  Under the direction of Michael Wagman, David Holcombe, Jaclyn Keough, and Warren Feagins effectively use extremes in physicality to contrast angst.  Quiet Killers, written by Kristen Palmer, is teenagers musing over death and human instinct.  Under the direction of Brea Hayes, Drew Anderson, Natalie Nassar, and Eric Ryan Swanson are over-the-top morose.  It’s how the goth-set does funerals.

Had It Before, It’s Enjoyable

Three of the shows have the familiar homestyle goodness of leftovers.  The Narcoleptic Pillow Fight written by Alex Dremann is a couple fighting through bouts of hysterical, empathetic or selective narcoleptic episodes.  Under the direction of Allyson B. Baisden, Megan E. Brown and Andy Cameron heighten the amusing buffoonery of ‘narking out’.  The Rollercoaster of Love written by Joe Musso and A Play or Something Like That written by McCarry Reynolds are two delicious potato salads at the same picnic!  It’s actors playing actors working a relationship scene.  Both are interesting miniCircle Mirror Transformationbut not everybody eats potato salad.

Pass the Salt 

The final two shows are a little too bland to make it to the big meal.  A Portrait of The Artist as a Middle Age Woman written by Jerry Lieblich is a mid-life crisis without the crisis. It needs a dash of Charlie Sheen antics to make it more potent.  A fictional Latin lover (Ben Johnson or Jeff Taylor, no headshot, identify unknown) overpowers with his humorous take.  He’s hilarious but it’s like putting ketchup on eggs… all you taste is ketchup!   White Cotton written by Craig Jessen flirts with infidelity as an engaged man visits his ex-girlfriend.  The love triangle doesn’t have quite enough foreplay to make the audience care about who has the long-lasting orgasm. 

The Sixth Annual Chaos Festival is a savory smorgasbord offering. With ten opportunities to curb your theatrical craving, your hunger will be satisfied. Bon Appetite!

  
  
Rating: ★★★
  
  

chaos festival 6th annual poster big

The Sixth Annual Chaos Festival plays through April 6th at the Lincoln Square Theatre (address), with all April performances at 8pm.  Tickets are $15, and can be purchased online or by calling 773-326-3631. Running time: Two hours, which includes a ten minute intermission.

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REVIEW: Cash on Delivery (Saint Sebastian Players)

 

Spinning Plates

 

Cash on Delivery - Saint Sebastian Players 2

   
Saint Sebastian Players present
   
Cash on Delivery
   
Written by Michael Cooney
Directed by
Jonathan “Rocky” Hagloch
at
St. Bonaventure Church, 1625 W. Diversey (map)
thru November 14  |  tickets: $10-$15   |  more info

reviewed by Lawrence Bommer

Identity theft is usually not the stuff of combustible comedy. But when it’s tied up with and results in mistaken identities, mixed signals, ill-timed interruptions and the rest of the detritus of classic farce, confusion can be critically comical. Michael Cooney, son of Ray (“Run for Your Wife”) Cooney, clearly learned from his father all the literal ins and outs of vintage farce with its slamming doors and self-fulfilling folly. The big difference here is that Cash on Delivery is no bedroom farce (though there’s some genuine confusion about supposed gay or cross-dressing activity). No, here the impetus is an elaborate and perilous fraud perpetrated by Chicago landlord Eric Swan against the Social Security Administration. It seems that the S.S.A. has inundated the opportunistic Eric with claims for a former tenant that, with a little scamming and false filings, mushroomed into $65,000 per year’s worth of multiple deceptions for unemployment, disability, medical and many other false benefits that this unemployed husband just didn’t have to courage or rectitude to decline.

Cash on Delivery - Saint Sebastian Players Of course, living a lie is a lot more taxing (so to speak) than sticking to the simple truth. It all threatens to elaborately unwind as Mr. Jenkins, a nerdy S.S. investigator, comes by for two simple signatures for some required paperwork. That’s all it takes for Cooney to unleash a flood of desperate cover stories as one lie contradicts another and Eric’s house of prevarication comes slowly tumbling down over the next 140 minutes. To pull off the crazed complications (which recall the excesses of Weekend with Bernie grafted onto Lend Me a Tenor) that eventually yield to the straightforward truth and a plausible happy ending requires the usual tour de force of timing, mugging, slow burns, costume switches, double faces, switcheroos, cover-ups, and other comic machinery.

Jonathan Hagloch’s ten actors pull off the shenanigans fairly well, with Greg Callozzo spinning the plates without dropping any (a metaphor taken from the old “Ed Sullivan Show”): Flagrantly and with multiplying mania, his Eric tries to keep his stories straight, with inept help from his upstairs tenant (busy Doug Werder). It helps that the other characters are credulous enough to be taken in by their sham show, most particular an increasingly hysterical Angela Bullard as Eric’s tormented wife, Michael Wagman as the nebbishy S.S. investigator, and Lyn Scott as his battleaxe supervisor. Jim Masini gets battered into unconsciousness as Eric’s venal uncle. The others play an overly helpful family crisis counselor, an officious undertaker, the neighbor’s frazzled fiancée, and a marriage counselor who adds his own befuddlement to this toxic mix.

With silly stuff like this, it’s more important to play it quickly than smoothly. Only in the overlong second act, where the playwright seems to be showing off his ability to keep the lies separate but equal, does the plot thicken into more turgidity than hilarity. But the audience never stops laughing throughout and that’s how you know a farce has force. You don’t have time to wonder why the S.S.A. makes house calls or a social worker can instantly arrange a funeral on the spot. The jokes come faster than any saving skepticism that might stop them in their tracks. Of course, we wouldn’t have it any other way.

   
   
Rating: ★★★
   
   

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