"This Is How It Goes" at Profiles Theater on 2/10/08 in Chicago

Profiles Theater is doing a season of all Neil LaBute plays. For those of us who like the combination of the head on look at the brutality of contemporary society, his humor, and his dialogue, this was a treat. Lest season, Profiles production of "Fat Pig" was unflinching and excellently done.

The Profiles space is teeny. Its stage is really just a small floor and there are seats on either side. The two front rows are probably two feet from the action at times. As an audience member, it would be easy to notice the entrances and exits of the actors and the audience members sitting across from you. Because of the acting in Profiles' plays, this intimacy is used to good effect and we're largely able to ignore those things. I went to see "This Is How It Goes" on a night when it was below zero and the theater got unbearably cold when an actor opened the door to the theater when making an entrance. I wondered once or twice about how cold the actors, who were wearing shorts in some scenes, must have been, but mostly I was too caught up in the action of the play to worry for them too much.

This play is about a threesome -- a funny, sensitive, somewhat nerdy but cute enough white man; the pretty, exhausted, emotionally dissatisfied white woman with whom he'd been infatuated as a teen; and, a successful, good-looking, athletic black man who is her husband. At the play's opening, we learn that the somewhat nerdy guy is a layer who has come back to town after have been away for many years and is no longer practicing law. He runs into Belinda at the mall and we can see that he's thrilled to see her because he's always been in love with here. His attention, lightness, and humor are a welcome relief from her marriage to Cody. They begin to see each other more frequently and, as she gets more and more of his attention, the disfunctions in her marriage to Cody come increasingly to the surface. At first, the tension in the play is that her marriage is unravelling but eventually we learn why the lawyer has quit his job and come back to his hometown. He has made a very inappropriate racial joke within hearing distance of a black colleague and refuses to apologize. The scene in which he tells this story is classic LaBute. In it we get a thoughtful analysis of racial relationships in America. The lawyer's racism is evident -- his joke, which he maintains is just a joke, betrays racist attitudes underlying the joke. It's especially brutal for audiences because we see ourselves in that joke. Told by a nice man, a character we like very much, we recognize the brutality of the joke and the attitude it reflects, one that we like to think only lives in rednecks in America but that really lives in the hearts and minds of white collar people in America's cities as well. Meanwhile, our long history of race relations makes it impossible for the black woman to hear it as a joke. The result of that history is that she can only hear it as an attack. I won't give anymore details about the play's plot except to say that, in the end, the racism is not the final issue in the play but the relationship between the two men who are fighting for Belinda. Eventually, we realize that Belinda is something that the men feel they can trade. The eventual lesson of the play is that relationships in America are still among men and women are commodities they trade.

LaBute's plays are brutal but I think it is a mistake to say that he must be a brutal person. Instead, I think he's a keen observer of contemporary American culture and his plays reflect the brutality of our lives back to us. His play and the subsequent film, "In the Company of Men," was a scathing reflection of misogyny in American culture. It hits us hard because we would all like to believe that sexism is dead in America, at least in educated spaces, and we are reminded that it's not. "This Is How It Goes" points out things about race in America that many of us think have disappeared but that are still around and lurking under the surface and come up for air in jokes. A look at gender relationships does the same thing. But I think this view is not one that LaBute has made up out of his imagination but instead out of his observations of American culture.

This production is very well acted and well directed. It was very funny. And the intimacy of the theater, despite the cold let in by the entrances and exits, served the play well.

"The Little Dog Laughed" at About Face Theater, Chicago, IL - 2/9/08

"The Little Dog Laughed" was written by Douglas Carter Beane, author of the movie "To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything! Julie Newmar" and the book for the musical "Xanadu," presently running on Broadway. The movie, which I thought was ok at best, and "Xanadu," which I loved, rely heavily on camp humor. So does "The Little Dog Laughed." As far as I'm concerned, his humor is sort of one-note, but in the case of "Xanadu," it is fantastically entertaining. In the case of "To Wong Foo," it's forgettable.

In About Face's production of this play, Mary Beth Fisher plays a Hollywood agent who will lie, cheat, and stuff her client in the closet, for success. Her client, who has been happy to remain in the closet and do rent boys every now and then, meets a rent boy for whom he's willing to come out. When he gets the lead in a movie that is certain to be a hit, his agent tells him he has to remain in the closet because the character is gay. Gay men can't play gay men in blockbusters, she tells him. Women have to believe he's straight.

The play is hysterical and Mary Beth Fisher is incredible: she steals the show. Then again, the script was written that way. Other characters have their moments but not nearly as many moments as she does. Apart from watching her, though, there's not much else to this play. Or maybe to this production.

When the play opens, the lead who plays the movie star is adorable (and has a great body) and when he falls asleep before getting it on with the fella he hired for the night, you're ready to like him. The two of them, both living largely in the closet, fall in love and decide they will come out to be with each other. Unfortunately, there is no sexual chemistry between the actors and so one never believes that they're in love and hot for each other. Plus, they're not very good in these roles. As a result, the exposure of hypocrisy in Hollywood as it plays itself out among the characters matters little to the audience We're supposed to be disappointed by the position the two guys find themselves in but we don't. There's a small controversy brewing in town because the stage directions call for a scene where the two men are nude and one goes down on the other. The playwright was upset when he saw the production and realized the men had on underwear in the scene. Frankly, I don't think it would have added anything because the audience wouldn't have believed there was any sexual attraction anyway.

At the end of the play, we all wondered if it would have felt like something more substantial than candy if we had seen a different production. The theme of hypocrisy and cut throat activities in Hollywood is hardly something that I care about. But if we could have seen the characters as people who felt something for each other and who may have lost that, then we may have cared for their lives, even if not Hollywood's. But I don't know. I loved "Xanadu" but there's no attempt to be serious in that play. So, I still don't know if it was an mediocre script or a mediocre script coupled with a lackluster production.

"The Selfish Giant," by Oscar Wilde at Chicago Children's Theatre - February 3, 2008

The Chicago Children's Theater commissioned Blair Thomas & Co. to create a sort of trunk show for them, a show in which all the materials would fit in trunks and could be taken around to schools and community centers for performances. Blair Thomas is perhaps best known for the "spectacle" pieces he created at Redmoon Theater, the form of theater that Redmoon is perhaps still most recognized for. Some of Blair Thomas' most interesting work, however, is on a much smaller scale. I find a sense of poetry in these smaller shows.

"The Selfish Giant" is an adaptation of the the Oscar Wilde book for young readers. It's not a picture book and not quite a chapter book. It's the story of a giant who refuses to share his garden and explicitly tells kids to stay out. Without the life that children bring, an eternal winter sets in the garden and the other seasons decide that they too will stay away. The eternal chill is too much for the selfish giant and he wishes that spring would come. Luckily for him, some kids find a crack in the wall that surrounds his garden and sneak in. As they play in the garden spring returns and the giant is thrilled. He learns that in cutting yourself off from the world in the hopes of keeping everything for oneself, you also cut yourself off from the joy the world has to offer you.

Blair Thomas has partnered with the folk singer/songwriter Michael Smith on the production. Thomas wrote the book for the piece and Smith has written the music and lyrics. Smith's music is folksy and very funny in the way that folk music so often in. He knows how to wring the humor out of rhymes and juxtaposing the familiar with the exotic to humorous effect. The songs in this show are delightful.

The puppets and the staging are magical. I find puppet theater fascinating because there is no pretense of naturalism to it can be very moving. You can see three puppeteers manipulating a bunraku puppet and still forget about them long enough to be moved the face of the puppet. One of the miracles of Thomas' puppets is that the same puppet conveys various feelings and does so incredibly effectively. At one point the giant seems serene and the other he seems incredibly sad and worried. That such emotion can be drawn from a puppet in the first place is amazing and that such shifts can occur is even more so. This is part of the poetry of puppetry -- that so many meanings can emerge from the same signifier. Throughout the production, the puppets and the world of the play moves from large to small. Thomas is inside the large puppet of the giant at first and the stage is the living room and garden of the giant. When the puppet falls asleep, Thomas slips out of the puppet and emerges to manipulate a number of other puppets, from marionette children to birds carrying suitcases to scolding bees. As winter settles in, the world and all of its players shrink until we see the entire town emerge out of a chest. Each new puppet is a source of fun and delight and we love it that they keep on coming.

The kids in the very intimate theater at the Field Museum seemed to love the show. As with the best children's theater, it's also great for adults. I happened to have a 6-year-old with me but I would attend this show without having the excuse of having to bring a child. Its just good theater.

"Shining City" at the Goodman Theatre in Chicago, IL -- February 2, 2008

Today I have a guest. My colleague and friend, Christy Uchida, sees even more theater than I do. She went to see "Shining City" at the Goodman, a show I wasn't planning to see, and agreed to share her comments on my blog. So, here they are. Thanks, Christy.

“73% of Americans believe in the paranormal” claim the bus tails and other creepy advertisements currently promoting A&E’s show Paranormal State. However, it’s the paranormal event at the end of Conor McPherson’s compelling play “Shining City” currently at the Goodman Theatre that didn’t work for me. The preceding 90+ intermissionless minutes convincingly conveyed our society’s craving for “connection in an isolating age.” And the characters’ flailing attempts at connection are portrayed with humanity and humor. I don’t want to play the spoiler, because the ending was theatrically effective as evidenced by the audience’s (and my own) startled reaction. But it makes me wonder if these types of shocking tricks are necessary to cut through the clutter of all the realism in theater. (See Christopher Piatt’s excellent review of The Hypocrites’ “Miss Julie” for a comment on deconstructing American Realism in theater: http://www.timeout.com/chicago/articles/theater/25906/miss-julie)

McPherson is certainly considered to be one of the most talented young Irish playwrights—“Shining City” was nominated for three Tonys in 2006. And the heightened naturalism of his writing is compared to Mamet. Apparently he began is career writing monologues, which is evident in the long soliloquies that have led some to criticize the play for being too talky. But what else should a play about a bereaved man and his therapist be except talky?

The play is simple. Middle-aged John is recently widowed when his wife is killed in a horrific car accident. In his grief and guilt created by a near infidelity shortly before his wife’s death, he believes he has been seeing the ghost of his wife and seeks the advice of a therapist, Ian. While it initially appears that the man seeking therapy is the wreck, we realize that it’s really the therapist’s life that’s much more screwed up. The subtle shift throughout the play masterfully unravels Ian’s character, and leads us to think how much do we know about professionals we seek advice from? Effectively the costuming—Ian begins as a buttoned-up therapist and ends in a t-shirt and jeans, while John begins disheveled and ends in his salesman’s power suit—reveals the shift. Interestingly, the same irrational homophobia that appears in “Good Boys and True” (see entry below) prevents Ian from being able to have the human connection he craves. The paranormal event at the end hits us over the head to signal that the younger Ian is also settling for a lifetime of second best.

“Shining City” is brilliantly acted with John Judd as John and Jay Whittaker as Ian, recalling the tremendous two-character production of Caryl Churchill’s “A Number” that featured John and Jay at Next Theatre a couple of seasons ago. I wish I could have seen “Shining City” in an intimate venue like Next—we were too far away in the balcony to fully appreciate the incredible acting. And while the production values were excellent as always, the over-resourced Goodman unnecessarily created thunder and lightening in Christopher Akerlind’s lighting design and running water and a flushing toilet in Obadiah Eaves’ sound design that didn’t add value to the script at all. The show would have been just as good, and more accessible, at the type of small, gritty off-Loop space that makes Chicago theater great.

Robert Falls’ production of “Shining City” moves from the Goodman to the Huntington Theatre in Boston this spring, another regional theater too rich and too big for this simple play. But at least large audiences are exposed to high quality new theater this way

"Fragment" directed by Peter Brooks at Chicago Shakespeare Theatre - February 2, 2008

If you're serious about theater, get excited by amazing acting, or love to see what an amazing director does with strong but incredibly dense scripts, go see this show. It's incredible.

Peter Brooks has taken fragments of works by Samuel Beckett and created an evening length piece out of them. The second piece is a series of repetitions of a a few lines of monologue with small differences over time. In the hands of anything less than remarkable actor, this piece would have seemed silly and been dully. In the hands of Katherine Hunter, it illuminates the nature of language and also has great emotional urgency. Plus, there's the added thrill of seeing such mastery in place.

In another piece there are two bags on stage and a pile of clothes. A large stick comes down and pokes one of the bags and a man comes out. He's miserable about being awaken, miserable about putting his pants on backwards, miserable about the terrible carrot he found in the pocket, miserable about his day. He eventually goes back into the bag and the stick comes down to wake up the second actor. he comes out thrilled about waking up, thrilled about his clothes, thrilled about the tasty carrot he's found in the pocket, and thrilled with his day. All of this is done with no dialogue. Another piece that would be flat if not in the hand of remarkable actors. Like the monologue, we see how language can change meaning except in this case language is reduced to gesture. To up the ante, Brooks ends the piece when the miserable man is awaken b the stick a second time but instead of being just miserable, he also seems sad. This repetition with a difference deepens the poetry of the piece.

Each piece is an exercise in directing and acting but they are also extremely warm but just technically brilliant and smart.