Review: Cold Cold Feet (Diamante Productions)

  
  

Parade of nuptial mayhem brings nonstop laughter

  
  

(L to R) Florence Ann Romano (Monday), Laura Rush (June), Michael Woods (Carl), and Jennifer T. Grubb (April). Photo credit: Michael Brosilow

  
Diamante Productions present
  
Cold Cold Feet
  
Written and directed by Tony Fiorentino
at Stage 773, 1225 W. Belmont (map)
through June 5  |  tickets: $  |  more info

Reviewed by Katy Walsh 

Unwritten vows, sexual addiction, stripper trio, dove droppings:  when potential disasters threaten to crash his wedding, a groom calls it quits.  Diamante Productions presents Cold Cold FeetOn the eve of his nuptials, Benny is freaking out.  As his brother Carl tries to get him to the church on time, the strippers arrive for a belated bachelor celebration.  While Benny enjoys whipped cream covered shenanigans in the bedroom, Carl stalls the wedding party in the living room.  The pimp, the sister, the mother, the priest, the bride, the dove choreographer… everyone wants to know what the delay is.  An anxiety-ridden Carl satisfies each with a different story.  Multiple charades play out in escalating absurdity.  Cold Cold Feet is a hot hot comedy!

Playwright and director Tony Fiorentino has revamped his popular 2006 production.  Based on his own ‘always a groomsmen never a groom‘ experience, Fiorentino creates familial wedding chaos. Within that world, he uses clever dialogue and characters to make the farce even wittier.  Serving as the director, he ensures the execution of the continuous double entendres nails the comedic moment.  The show starts slow with a mean-spirited banter that doesn’t quite build the brotherly bond. Cue the strippers! Start lying!  Once the parade of mayhem begins, the laughter is unstoppable.  The entire ensemble adds to the punch line with deadpan deliveries and slapstick timing.

Joe Bianco (Benny, front), Jennifer T. Grubb  (April, left), Ann Romano (Monday, center), Laura Rush (June, right) and Michael Woods (Carl, back). Photo credit: Michael Brosilow.

Leading the burlesque antics, Michael Woods (Carl) is hysterical as the double-talking fibber.  Woods races around the subject and the room in a zany frenzy.  Joe Bianco (Benny) transforms from nervous to out-of-control to sincere with charm.  Bianco comes across as a tool until he endears with a sweet how-I-met-my-bride story.  The strippers aka “The Time of Your Life” are frolicking, kind-hearted whores. These exotic dancers know how to have fun.  Laura Rauh (June) plays it perfectly dim-witted. Florence Ann Romano (Monday) is an energetic spitfire.  And Jennifer T. DGrubb (April) whips it good as an artist.  Their pimp, Rob Grabowski (Harvey) is the imposing enforcer humbled with intestinal issues. His interactions with Brigitte Ditmars (Mary) and Marie Goodkin (Wanda) are hilarious potty humor.  With misinformation and mistaken identities, Ditmars and Goodkin forcefully go off on Grabowski with riotous results.  Playing funny caricatures, Mike O’Brien (Father Murphy) is a gentle, flask-toting priest and Joel Thomas (Nigel) is an over-the-top dove choreographer.  The bridezilla, Kieran Welsh-Phillips (Lindsay) kicks ass in the final scene.  Welsh-Phillips plays it with tough love, bringing a satisfying end to the jittery hijinks.

Roger Wykes (Scenic Designer) places the story in a Vegas hotel suite.  It’s a large room with exits to a terrace, bedroom, bathroom and hallway.  The multiple doors add to the almost-got-caught tomfoolery.  Costume Designer Emma Weber dresses the cast up in an array of Viva Las Vegas wear.  The sexy underwear and not-so-sexy poker style boxers contrast nicely with the church attire. What happens in Vegas…?  A groom gets tripped up on his way down the aisle.  His family gets caught up in his pre-wedding caper.  Cold Cold Feet engages with a commitment to comedy.

  
  
Rating: ★★★
  
  

Marital mayhem abounds in Diamante Productions

Cold Cold Feet continues through June 5th at Stage 773 (1225 W. Belmont), with performances Thursdays-Saturdays at 8pm and Sundays at 3pm.  Tickets are $25, and can be purchased by phone (773-327-5252) or online HERECold Cold Feet has a running time of ninety minutes with no intermission.

Photos by Michael Brosilow 

  
  

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Review: This (Theater Wit)

 
  

Theater Wit exposes adultery with intelligence and grace

  
  

Rebecca Spence and John Byrnes in 'This' at Theater Wit. Photo by Johnny Knight.

  
Theater Wit presents
  
This
  
Written by Melissa James Gibson
Directed by
Jeremy Wechsler 
at
Theater Wit, 1229 W. Belmont (map)
through March 27  |  tickets: $24  |  more info

Reviewed by Paige Listerud

What if “the other woman” was not some scheming, seductive siren but your best friend? Many dramas make melodramatic hash out of both kinds of scenarios but This, the latest production of Theater Wit, keeps a cool, compassionate head about sexual transgressions between friends. Melissa James Gibson’s comic script handles the subject with insight, gentle maturity and grace. Theater Wit has a hit on its hands because This demonstrates the right mix of humor and common sense about relationships, love, loss, and recovery. Meanwhile, Jeremy Wechsler’s direction is nothing less than a deft touch–keeping the action clear, light and decidedly on track.

Rebecca Spence as Jane in 'This' at Theater Wit.  Photo by Johnny Knight.Jane (Rebecca Spence) has spent the past year grieving the death of her husband, Roy. Fortunately, she’s had the support of her friends from college, Tom (John Byrnes) and Marrill (Lily Mojekwu), who are married and having their first child; and Alan (Mitchell J. Fain), the “gay friend.” While the gay friend has pretty much become a stock character for contemporary comedy, Fain makes the role distinctly his own, delivering Gibson’s dialogue with a razor sharp edge, which makes the humor more vivid and Alan’s personal revelations more poignant.

Jane’s friendships with these three carry their own sharp edge; the play is quite knowing about the ways friendships can both nourish and undermine the individual. Dinner at Tom and Merrill’s starts with Merrill’s attempts to set up Jane with a new guy, Jean-Pierre (Steve Hadnagy), but it also subjects Jane to a game that puts her on the spot and pulls more information out of her than she’s ready to reveal. Later, Tom shows up on Jane’s doorstep, confessing to a well of untapped desire for her. Jane’s slip-up with Tom acts as the catalyst to plumb whole underlying assumptions her friends have about her and about each other.

The show is not just about Jane but also about how a group of friends handles the rocky changes within long-term relationships—new stresses, miscommunication, unspoken needs and momentary betrayals. Scene after scene regales the audience with witty banter, but the play never strays too far from the loss really haunting Jane. Spence makes every moment count–both her surrender to Tom and her final meltdown are convincingly real. Merrill’s postpartum malaise over her marriage to Tom is grounded by Mojekwu’s solid intelligence and sensuality. Byrnes brings the right level of silent frustration to Tom getting shut out in the marriage. As for Hadnagy’s portrayal of Jean-Pierre, he keeps a light touch—all the better to play an easygoing continental without falling into French-y caricature.

If there are any flaws to the play’s otherwise realistic portrayal of friendship and relationships, it’s in Tom and Merrill’s rather rapid recovery after Jane has let the cat out of the bag about her and Tom’s affair. Also, Alan’s perfect memory–to establish the truth of Merrill and Tom’s He Said/She Said moments—comes across as more of a contrivance than actual drama. But the smoothness with which the cast skates through Gibson’s script redeems these flaws. Wechsler’s cast engages the script with an enviable liquid alacrity, creating scenes with instinctually fluid reactions between people who have known each other for ages. For all the burden of Jane’s secret shame and the pressured snippiness between Tom and Merrill, these are people who like each other and rely on each other’s company as a witness to their lives. No matter what their flaws, they are just the people to bring Jane back to the land of the living.

  
  
Rating: ★★★
  
  

Rebecca Spence and Lily Mojekwu in Theater Wit's "This". Photo by Johnny Knight.

Mitchell J. Fain and Rebecca Spence in Theater Wit's "This". Photo by Johnny Knight. Rebecca Spence and John Byrnes in Theater Wit's "This". Photo by Johnny Knight.

This continues through March 27th, with performance  Thursday, Friday and Saturday at 8 p.m., and Sunday at 2 p.m.   Single tickets are $15 to $35.  For tickets and information, visit TheaterWit.org or call the Theater Wit box office, 773.975.8150.

    
     

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REVIEW: The Four of Us (Theater Wit)

   
  

Rare find: a sophisticated comedy for bros!

  
  

(from left) Usman Ally, Collin Geraghty, Usman Ally and Collin Geraghty in the Midwest premiere of The Four of Us

   
Theater Wit presents
  
The Four of Us
   
Written by Itamar Moses
Directed by Jeremy Wechsler
at Theater Wit, 1229 W. Belmont (map)
Extended thru Dec 18  |  tickets: $30   |  more info

Review by Paige Listerud

Who among your friends do you measure yourself against? Theater Wit’s critically acclaimed production, The Four of Us, by award-winning playwright Itamar Moses, knowingly and humorously examines the shifting fortunes and friendship between two writers in search of artistic and worldly success–a quixotic and mercurial adventure if ever there was. Who could ever be prepared for the toll success may take when one writer receives unforeseen recognition in the cultural economy while the other flounders in the sea of struggling-to-make-it? For those unfamiliar with the Usman Ally and Collin Geraghty in The Four of Us by Itamar Mosesconcept of writer’s envy, Kathryn Chetkovich’s classic essay, which originally appeared in the magazine “Granta”, remains excellent background material for this drama.

David (Usman Ally), a struggling playwright, takes his old buddy, Benjamin (Collin Geraghty), out to lunch to celebrate the upcoming publication of Benjamin’s very first novel. It’s all part of the pact that they had made back in college – whoever makes it first, whether first novel or first play, has to buy the other lunch at a restaurant of their choice. But Benjamin’s novel getting published is not simply one man’s goal achieved—it’s success at a spectacularly obscene level. Huge bid by a major publisher, sold movie rights, a famous Hollywood actor looking to direct it—all of which, to David’s thunderstruck reaction, his long-time pal Benjamin writes off as nothing. Is it artistic integrity on Benjamin’s part or a victory won too easily to appreciate? Is his diffidence a slight indication of low self-esteem or another way to garner David’s attention for his achievement? Whatever the motive, David gets bitten by the envy bug but still buys Benjamin’s lunch.

Jeremy Wechsler’s direction keeps the witty back-and-forth between Ally and Geraghty crisp and taut. In fact, Moses script is reminiscent of Mamet in that each beat and inflection between actors requires rapid-fire interaction and two complementary mindsets practically joined at the third eye. David’s relationship with Benjamin may be a little too close for comfort, since Benjamin’s pronouncements on literature, women, relationships and life perpetually override David’s own judgment and lived experience. The playwright has a keen eye for the worshipful man-crush, supported by underlying structures of insecurity and crippling self-doubt. The Four of Us demonstrates intense emotional maturity about the immature reasons guys subtly compete with each other and compare the progress of their lives with the friends they are closest to.

 

(from left) Usman Ally plays David and Collin Geraghty portrays Benjamin in the Midwest premiere of The Four of Us, Collin Geraghty and Usman Ally in Theater Wit's The Four of Us

The play also jumps about between the current, alternating trials and triumphs of the characters and their college days—a summer in Prague, sharing a joint in their dorm room the year before and, for the grand finale, the first time they met as counselors in summer band camp. If the production has a weakness, it’s in the portrayal of David and Benjamin in their more youthful and idealistic years. Ally and Geraghty spar brilliantly with each other, but fail to bring the nuanced edge of jejune enthusiasm for life ahead of them that is the hallmark of college days. Given that this ultra-talky play constructs the evolution each goes through about the other, the production needs to demonstrate greater contrast between past and present. Without that, David and Benjamin’s relationship only comes across as one big gabfest with slightly distinct variations.

Playful scene changes and Joseph Fosco’s smart sound design keeps the energy lively from scene to scene. The Four of Us is fast-paced and cunning. Whether he digs theater or not, catch your best bud and drag him to see it. This is one of the most sophisticated comedies for the bros that I’ve seen in while. One can only hope that it will get made into a movie to wow the audiences at Sundance or Telluride.

 
   
Rating: ★★★½   
   
  

The Four Of Us - Theater Wit - Collin Geraghty and Usman Ally

     
itama moses

Playwright Itamar Moses

Production Personnel

Playwright: Itamar Moses
Director: Jeremy Wechsler 
Cast: Usman Ally, Collin Geraghty
Light Design:  Scott Pillsbury
Sound Design: Joseph Fosco 
Set Design: Roger Wykes
Costumes: Christine Pascual
Stage Manager: Wendye Clarendon

All production photos by Johnny Knight

      
      

REVIEW: Kid Sister (Profiles Theatre)

   
   

Loud and Louder

   
  

Kid Sister - Profiles Theatre Chicago

   
   
Profiles Theatre presents
   
Kid Sister
   
Written by Will Kern
Directed by
Joe Jahraus
at
Profiles Theatre, 4147 N. Broadway (map)
through Dec 19  |  tickets: $30-$35  |  more info

Review by Catey Sullivan

Holy mother of swamp rat excrescence!  I suppose there are more repetitive, unimaginative and utterly pointless plays out there than Kid Sister, but none come to mind. If we didn’t have 15 years of solid Profiles productions still in memory, their latest would be enough to make us swear off the Broadway Avenue black box. Because taking in Will Kern’s drama of Flo}rida misfits is just about as entertaining as watching a bunch of mean drunks scream at each other for 80 solid minutes. And I’m not talking witty drunks. I’m talking the sort of dumb, depressing drunks whose verbal skills make the repartee on Jerry Springer look positively Coward-esque by comparison.

Kid Sister 2 - Profiles Theatre ChicagoIt’s tough to believe this waste of space, time and good actors is by the same author as Hellcab. One wonders what befell playwright Will Kern in the years between that earlier effort – a whipsmart, insightful comedy peopled with characters of razorsharp definition – and Kid Sister. Hellcab ran for nearly a decade in Chicago, and deservedly so. Kid Sister should not run beyond opening night. And that’s being generous.

On the surface, Kid Sister invites comparisons to Killer Joe (our review ★★★½), Tracy Letts’ thrilling and twisted comedy of matricide, sociopaths and trailer trash (and a huge hit for Profiles earlier this year). Like Killer Joe, Kid Sister’s set is a single room filled with strewn junk food wrappers and booze bottles, furnished by a grimy refrigerator, a battered card table, and a couch that looks like a health hazard. The similarities continue:  There’s a murder involving trash bags, and an ensemble of characters who lack the basic vocabulary to make themselves understood. But where Killer Joe was brilliantly funny and edge-of-your-seat suspenseful, Kid Sister is neither. Instead of dialogue, Kid Sister gives us people screaming at each other with all the verbal skills of slow middle schoolers.

Which would be fine if Kern gave us characters worth caring about. He doesn’t. Not for a moment in Kid Sister is there ever a single person to empathize with, and thus not for a moment does it ever feel like anything is at stake. You’re simply watching people act out, moving from one scene of shrieking degradation to another.

Directed by Joe Jahraus, Kid Sister begins with 19-year-old Demi –making the skanky most of both boobs and legs in a tatty denim miniskirt and a dollar-store hoochie mama top – screeching and waving a gun as her sadsack boyfriend Babe comes home from a shift at a local fast food joint. Despite the barrage of c*nts and f*cks and other profanities Demi hurls, the scene isn’t so much shocking as it is boring and repetitive. After the first three or so c-words, the shock turns into tedium.

That tedium isn’t broken up by any gradation in emotion either – Demi (Allison Torem) starts at 10 on the shrill-o-meter and remains there for the duration of the production. It’s a one-note performance: Imagine someone blasting a referee’s whistle for almost an hour and a half – that’s the overall tone of Kid Sister.

But it’s not just the grim, monotonous invective that makes Kid Sister such a non-starter despite its high-decibel attempts to be otherwise. Demi, the character at the center of the plot, is so over-the-top in her delusional self-centeredness that she’s never once believable. I get it – she’s supposed to be up to her eyeballs in denial about the bleak reality of her situation and/or profoundly damaged by years of drugs and abuse. But even taking such limitations into account, it’s simply not believable that a 19-year-old with a functioning brain stem would be so mired in fairy tale-level delusion. Prattling on about how she’s going to be rich, famous and hanging out with Gwen Stefani in six months, Demi sounds like a bratty five-year-old.

Even if Demi’s extreme pipe dreams were believable, Kern gives us no reason to care about them – or her or any one she interacts with. His plot is a series of unfortunate events strung together with all the dramatic tension of so many non-sequitors. When Demi’s stalker (Marc Singletary) finally shows up, it’s a shrugging so-what kind of moment. When Demi’s brother (Darrell Cox) makes an unexpected revelation , it’s about as momentous as a traffic report. When splatter-film-worthy violence erupts in the piece’s denouement, the result isn’t edginess or horrifying – it’s just cheesy gory like a scene out of a bargain basement haunted house. But unlike a low-budget haunted house scene, this Sister is simply no fun.

   
   
Rating:
 
 

Kid Sister continues through Dec. 19 at Profiles Theatre, 4147 N. Broadway. Tickets are $30 Thursdays, $35 Fridays,Saturdays and Sundays, For ticket information, click here or go to www.profilestheatre.org.

Kid Sister poster - Profiles Theatre Chicago

 

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REVIEW: Kennedy’s Children (Promethean Ensemble)

  
  

Kennedy’s Children, all grown up

 

 scene from Kennedy's Children at Promethean - photo by Tom McGrath

       
Promethean Theatre Ensemble presents
   
Kennedy’s Children
   
Written by Robert Patrick
Directed by Terry McCabe
at
City Lit Theater, 1020 W. Bryn Mawr (map)
through Dec. 5   |  tickets: $20  |  more info

Reviewed by Barry Eitel

In a theatre world where children of the ‘60s are being edged out by Millennials, Robert Patrick’s 1974 eulogy for the Kennedy era, Kennedy’s Children, seems a tad dusty. It touches on over-exploited “what did the flower children really achieve” themes, but can keep its freshness more often than not. Although the play—more of a series of monologues, really—could easily fall into becoming another diatribe bemoaning the 1960’s, Patrick’s skilled use of language and narrative saves us from that fate. Promethean Theatre Ensemble’s production, directed by Terry McCabe, sees a link between the disillusionment of the 70’s and the disillusionment of post-“Yes We Can” America. The connection is there, although the relevance is clouded by the history lessons. Promethean’s production never escapes being a period piece, but it’s one that still resonates.

Kennedy's Children at Promethean - photo by Tom McGrath 2 McCabe and his team don’t mess with Patrick’s script at all, refusing to deconstruct, overanalyze, update – or whatever the kids are doing this season. Instead, they opt for a straightforward production that presents the play much like it might have been seen in the tiny off-off-Broadway venues Patrick loved so much. On a dreary night in 1974, Valentine’s Day (an absurdly specific choice that is not utilized enough as it should be by the text), five world-weary souls take over a dive bar in a dingy section of New York (pretty much any part during the ‘70s).

Taking turns, the quintet orate their tales, thoughts, and philosophies straight to the audience, never acknowledging the others on-stage (apart from hailing down the silent bartender, of course). There’s the Marilyn Monroe-fixated Carla (Devon Candura), a starlet who never made it and never will, even though she’s slept with enough producers. Then there’s Mark (Nick Lake), a drug-addled, slightly insane Vietnam veteran who reads letters to his mother and entries in his diary. Of course, Patrick includes a hippie past her prime, Rona (Anne Korajczyk). The most autobiographical character is Sparger (Tom Weber), a gay performer who’s worked in just about every back room, church basement, and community center. The play is rounded out by Wanda (Shawna Tucker), an aging schoolteacher with a Kennedy obsession.

As you probably guessed, this isn’t a very uplifting experience.   Kennedy’s Children is sort of about Kennedy, but it’s really about a collective consciousness, one that’s been battered and bruised into depression. It’s not surprising that the play dabbles in over-the-top disenchantment and cynicism. Maybe when Kennedy, King, and Hendrix were recently buried Patrick’s tribute tapped into unspoken ideas, but by now a lot of the ground has been covered multiple times. That’s not to say this play should be tossed in the garbage. The first half is clunky and exposition-heavy, but the stories heat up in the second act, causing the whole production to suck in the audience.

 

scene from Kennedy's Children at Promethean - photo by Tom McGrath 5 Kennedy's Children at Promethean - photo by Tom McGrath scene from Kennedy's Children at Promethean - photo by Tom McGrath 4

This play needs outstanding performances to survive, and McCabe’s cast is up to the challenging, direct-address style piece. Tucker is the highlight of the production, lending her portrayal of Wanda some skittish neurosis and just a dab of blind hope. If any character is constructive, it’s Wanda, who went out to teach children, inspired by the memory of the fallen president. Weber and Candura are also engrossing; they’re prone to tragedy and histrionics, but so are their characters. Korajczyk and Lake are weaker performers. Korajczyk revels in Rona’s cynicism too much, and Lake pushes the crazy too hard.

In the end, McCabe’s search for relevance is successful. I’m not a child of Kennedy, but Patrick’s sad stories still struck a nerve. The bar patrons’ mopeyness teeters on self-indulgent, but the disappointment rings true.

   
   
Rating: ★★★
   
   

scene from Kennedy's Children at Promethean - photo by Tom McGrath 2

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REVIEW: Lovers (City Lit Theater)

Half winner, half loser

 

City Lit Theater - Lovers

    
City Lit Theater presents
  
Lovers
  
Written by Brian Friel
Directed by
Terry McCabe
at City Lit Theater, 1020 W. Bryn Mawr
(map)
through October 3  |  tickets: $25  |  more info

Reviewed by Oliver Sava

Brian Friel’s Lovers is divided into two stories, “Winners” and “Losers.” The former shows a day in the life of two teenagers preparing to be wed, the latter recounts the history of a middle-aged married couple. United by their Irish setting and a common thread of underlying sorrow, the two stories reveal how the fantasies people associate with love are crushed by the circumstances of the real world. Bleak. But the poster is two withering roses, so don’t say City Lit Theater didn’t warn you.

Ironically, Winners is the weaker of the two, suffering from a lack of clarity that makes the monologue-heavy script drag. The main action shows teenaged lovers Mag (Catherine Gillespie) and Joe (Joey deBettencourt) studying for their last set of exams, not allowed to return to school due to Mag’s unplanned pregnancy. As they expose their hopes and fears for married life, two narrators (Walter Brody and Maggie Cain) describe the events that lead up to and occur after the study session, City Lit Theater - Lovers2 emphasizing the moment’s significance for the lovers. There isn’t much action in the script, with characters spending most of their time recounting past experiences or ruminating about the future, so the actors have to work even harder to keep the audience’s attention.

Gillespie and DeBettencourt succeed in capturing the innocence of their characters – with moments like an Old West style shootout between the two and an imaginary gang of their enemies – but they struggle at giving weight to their new adult problems. Much of this is due to the pace of Mag’s early monologues, rushed to the point where emotional shifts are lost and the Irish dialect is compromised. As Mag and Joe’s fate is revealed by the narrators, dramatic irony keeps the proceedings moderately interesting, but “Winners” never regains the momentum it loses at the start.

“Losers” is the saving grace of the evening, with Brody and Cain retuning to the stage as Andy and Hannah, a middle aged couple saddled with the burden of Hannah’s pious mother (Kay Schmitt). Forced to join the matriarch for nightly prayers and devotions to Saint Philomena, Andy learns the hard way that “the family that prays together, stays togethers.” The actors get an immediate hand up on the earlier scene by getting a script where things actually happen, but they also are much more adept at capturing the melancholy that runs underneath the humor. Director Terry McCabe provides plenty of slapstick physical comedy as the lovers try to find ways to fool around without disturbing Mrs. Wilson, and Brody is able to make the transition from youthful exuberance to seasoned seriousness that are lost on the young actors in “Winners.”

Lovers concludes on a cynical note, with the characters’ failures overweighing their triumphs. City Lit’s production is able to escape that fate, with a second act that overcomes the missteps of the first to create an ultimately enjoyable evening of theatre.

  
  
Rating: ★★½
   
   

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REVIEW: Oh, Boy! (City Lit Theatre)

A fun musical romp for the entire family

 oh-boy-logo

  
City Lit Theater presents
  
Oh, Boy!
  
Book and lyrics by Guy Bolton and P.G. Wodehouse
Music by
Jerome Kern
Directed by
Sheldon Patinkin
Music direction by
Kingsley Day
at
City Lit Theater, 1020 W. Bryn Mawr (map)
through June 27  tickets: $25   |  more info

Reviewed by Robin Sneed

There is theatre that is bold for it’s depth and experimentation, and there is theatre that is bold for it’s lightness and recollection of what has gone before us in American theatre history. Oh, Boy!, presented by City Lit Theater is just that kind of risk taking that dares to be innocent and fun, to stand back from too heavy a regard for our most important themes, and do that thing the theatre is most known for: entertain. All the while reminding us that we do come from somewhere.

First, a brief history lesson. In the 1900’s, we had in this country something called The Princess Theatre, a 299-seat theatre that was losing money. One of the investors, Elizabeth Marbury, commissioned small comedies to save the theatre, and that gave birth to what we call drawing room comedy and bedroom farce in the Americas (aka Princess Theatre musicals) – all while Oscar Wilde, across the pond, was already feeding this movement. This was cutting edge, as it dared to ask questions about morality and prohibition, sex and marriage, however tame to eyes in 2010. To the modern viewer, this genre might be soft, but not so fast. Does it not ask questions about drugs and marriage in this century? It simply presents those questions in the most kind and singing way. P.G. Wodehouse wrote the lyrics for Oh, Boy!, and he was daring indeed. Don’t these same songs represent our current frustration with current standards of morality and principles? Oh, Boy! simply demonstrates this with a most pretty and satisfying image, and one that says this issue is not one solely of the poor. These are wealthy people being depicted, and their pain, while only of the pin prick variety, still enters into the conversation.

In any good drawing room musical comedy or bedroom farce, the costumes must be exquisite. And Oh Boy! delivers. Designed by Thomas Kieffer, the dress in this play sparkles and glows and we are sent back in time to a place of careful manners, fine dress, often used as a kind of armor. Though these are issues of morality dressed in their Sunday best, don’t we have the same questions wearing blue jeans?

The standout performance here is from Patti Roeder as Penelope Budd. She rocks the house as the Quaker aunt who arrives on the scene of her nephew already wed to what is considered by her to be an undesirable woman. She sails around us drunk, riding on imaginary carousels and brings focus to the dilemma. Aunt Penelope, a person of abstinence, gets loaded’ and puts the equation into order, forcing by way of her escapades, that the people around her tell the truth. Her nephew, admirably played by Sean George, at long last declares his true love in the face of the debauchery of the Quaker auntie gone temporarily mad by alcohol and delivered from her moral hardness. In this way, drawing room comedies draw from Shakespeare, showing two sides of a coin, pick the side which most resonates with you and learn from it. Roeder is a delight in this role, a fierce comedic genius. Apparently, this is her first turn in a role like this, and I, for one, would like to see more. She reminded me of the great Carol Burnett. And that is saying something from these quarters.

All in this cast turn in solid and good performances. This is difficult work and all hands are onboard to deliver motion and music, questions and answers, readily. At 2.5 hours, it runs a bit too long, but such is meditation in the theatre.

Producing Oh, Boy!, which has not been performed in Chicago since 1918, is a bold move. This is viewing for the whole family, with no fear of exposing children to overt sexuality or heavy themes of addiction. It asks the question gently, and so very prettily, of what we might thinking. In my youth, this kind of theatre led to a great many important post-theatre dinner conversations with my father. I am reminded of a viewing in my youth of Oscar Wilde’s The Importance of Being Earnest. Oh, I had so much to say to my father! The play had so much to say and ask. Along with The Night Thoreau Spent In Jail, with theatre like Oh, Boy!, young and old alike are invited into the sphere of questions and answers. This is family viewing at it’s best, away from television, and into real flesh and blood performances, discussion starters, and the gossamer memories of just plain good theatre. I encourage families to see this play, go out for dinner afterward, and talk about the pretty costumes, music, and deeper themes. There is something in Oh Boy! for everyone.

  
  
Rating: ★★★
  

 

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