Sara McCarthy, David Dastmalchian, Dave Skvarla, Jeremy van Meter, Erik Schnitger/Photo: John W. Sisson, Jr.
RECOMMENDED
Radio plays are notoriously awkward to stage (see last year’s production of “Radio Macbeth” at the Court), and Dylan Thomas’ play for voices is a particularly tricky one, intricately lyrical, at times farcical as well as deeply sentimental as it takes on a day in the life of a fictional Welsh town. Caffeine Theater’s production is an imperfect but indisputable triumph. First and foremost, the acting is tremendous, each ensemble member taking on at least four wildly different characters, often changing personae on a dime and with simple but effective costume modifications and astute physicality. The show is well-paced and the story clear where it could have easily become incomprehensible, and director Paul S. Holmquist deftly pulls out incredible comic moments, such as an unforgettably acerbic dinner scene in which a long-suffering husband reads a book about poisoners while displaying perfect manners to his goading wife. But the true greatness of this production lies in its ability to stage the radio play without losing its focus on voices. The range and depth of the use of voice onstage is breathtaking, the chorus of actors representing everything from steam kettles to farm animals to a house full of clocks without missing a beat. (Monica Westin)
At The DCA Storefront Theater, 77 E. Randolph, (312)742-8497. Through September 27.
It has the makings of an interesting and substantial sketch: a self-described parody of a Harlequin Romance novel set in Pecos, Texas, with a PTSD-inflicted leading man suffering from unpredictable war flashbacks (usually in the midst of sexually charged moments), and comic relief in the form of a dead horse stuck in a tool shed. But the first weekend into its run, the show is more awkward than satirical, dragging through a long ninety minutes, which does get tighter as the evening goes on. Acting is inconsistent, with seemingly improvised screaming and long silences breaking up otherwise well-timed wooing and fighting. Director Karisa Bruin has a great eye for theatrical cliche (and makes smart use of lights and sound to signify flashbacks and magnetic romantic attraction), but the show revels in each farcical moment a bit too long—it feels like a workshop with a great amount of potential in need of heavy editing, especially cheap laughs in the form of simulated sex and nipple jokes. (Monica Westin)
“Ulysses’ Crewmen,” the new two-person show by Milwaukee-based Insurgent Theatre, is touring the country this summer and fall, with a stop at the Mess Hall in Chicago on September 1. The play centers around the kidnapping of a U.S. delegate to a trade summit by an an anarchist revolutionary. The play deals explicitly with class struggle and exploitation, which isn’t surprising, given the company’s insistence on its own brand of DIY art as revolutionary practice, as its Web site promises: “Always independent local writers, directors and actors. Never compromising to the establishment.” Newcity talked with Ben Turk from the road about political art and translating his beliefs into theater.
