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Even the most merry among us can stand a bit of humbug, especially when it’s delivered with the upoarious laughter inherent in David Sedaris’ “SantaLand Diaries.” The essay, a memoir of the author’s bizarre experience working in Macy’s SantaLand one New York Christmas, was Sedaris’ breakthrough when he read it on NPR back in 1992. Theater Wit has been producing the stage adaptation in Chicago as its holiday show for the last six years, three of those years with Mitchell Fain starring in the one-man family-unfriendly show as the misanthropic Macy’s elf, and they’ve got it down cold. Fain, diminutive and elfin himself, prances around the stage, cocktail in hand, delivering Sedaris’ bon mots with hilarious precision, even ad-libbing with the audience in character. Good luck trying to resist Fain’s charms, as he describes “one of the most frightening career opportunities I had ever come across” with kids who pee in the store’s artificial snow, the handlebar-mustachioed elf who delusionally thinks he’s a real ladies man and the co-worker so cheerful she asks if she can wear her costume home. In fact, if you’re not careful, you might even end up feeling downright cheerful yourself. (Brian Hieggelke)

Theater Wit’s “The Santaland Diaries” plays at Theatre Building Chicago, 1225 W. Belmont, (773)327-5252, TheaterWit.org through January 2. $24.

Penelope Walker, John Babbo and Caroline Heffernan/Photo: Liz Lauren

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“I pay him a just wage,” defends Larry Yando’s Scrooge to the Ghost of Christmas Present (Penelope Walker) as the pair is eavesdropping on the Cratchits’ meager holiday feast which Tiny Tim (John Babbo) alone could easily devour in a single swoop.  “What is a just wage?” retorts the Ghost.  “What the market will bear,” says Scrooge.  And there you have it: Ebenezer Scrooge is a Republican.

It is easy to forget that Charles Dickens wrote “A Christmas Carol” primarily as an attack on self-righteous Victorian social justice, but with the entire country embroiled in a bitter debate about who actually “deserves” healthcare among the millions who cannot afford it this holiday season, lines such as “Are you to decide who is to live and die?” and “If they would rather die, let them do so and decrease the surplus population,” resonate with biting sting as more socially relevant than ever.  Ironically, Dickens’ challenge to the heart of the heartlessness of his own era helped set England on a trajectory towards national healthcare, which means Tiny Tim would get the treatment that he needs today in England, though not in America. Read the rest of this entry »

Paula Scrofano and Paul Martinez

Although the 1967 film is a silly and trivial affair, that spoof of the 1920s featuring Julie Andrews, Mary Tyler Moore and Carol Channing is a masterpiece compared to this overlong, misconceived mess of a musical that is loosely based on the film. At a time when tuneful Broadway scores are seemingly a dime a dozen, the new songs here are dreadful and are repeated ad nauseum. And if that weren’t enough, there are Asian stereotypes such as dropped r’s and even minstrel-show anthem “Mammy” sung in Chinese!

Why the creators dumped some of the best period songs of the film in favor of such inferior new material is a mystery, but at least the Drury Lane choreography by Tammy Mader and swing band directed by Ben Johnson evoke a sense of the raucousness of the era.  Holly Ann Butler is a likeable Millie, though there is little of the initial naïveté that the character calls for.  By contrast, her suitor Jimmy (Mark Fisher), who is supposed to have street smarts, comes off as the one who needs to be shown the ropes.  The other lovers (Randall Dodge and Dara Cameron) do exhibit some chemistry in their scenes but it is Melody Betts who steals the show with a knockout performance as Muzzy. (Dennis Polkow)

“Thoroughly Modern Millie” plays through December 20 at Drury Lane Oakbrook, 100 Drury Lane, Oakbrook Terrace, (630)530-0111. $19-$61.

By Damien James

Ricky Jay is a master of deception, and chances are good that you’ve seen his work even if you have no idea who he is. With his company Deceptive Practices (motto: “Arcane knowledge on a need-to-know basis”), Jay has consulted and served as technical advisor for stage and screen alike, working on such films as “Forrest Gump” (he designed the wheelchair that made Gary Sinese look legless), David Mamet’s “The Spanish Prisoner” and Christopher Nolan’s “The Prestige” (he also acted in the latter two films), among others. Beyond that, Jay may be the world’s foremost sleight-of-hand artist, its greatest historian of magic and the art of the con, and the preeminent archivist and academic of human oddities, as explored in his quarterly, Jay’s Journal of Anomalies. He can also, by the way, throw a playing card so hard and fast as to pierce the rind of a watermelon, “that most prodigious of all household fruits,” as he refers to it.

For five nights at the beginning of December, Jay holds court in the Mamet-directed one-man show “A Rogue’s Gallery,” billed as a more personal and improvisational performance, at the Royal George. Jay was good enough to share some of his time after a long day on the set of the TV show “Flash Forward,” whose cast he recently joined. He plays, in his words, “a menacing character.” I’ve heard stories of how gruff and elusive Jay can be and what subjects he famously avoids; so, expecting gruff, I asked how he was doing. “Honestly, I’m thoroughly and completely exhausted, meaning that I will be like putty in your hands.” Read the rest of this entry »

Jason Collins, Liora Grodnikaite, Judith Forst, Karita Mattila/Photo: Dan Rest

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The operas of Leoš Janácek came rather late into the Lyric Opera canon, but the first opera from his so-called mature period, 1921’s “Káta Kabanová,” is making its first return visit since it was first heard here back in 1986. At that time, Lyric’s then-general director Ardis Krainik pushed the piece’s connections to Puccini’s “Madama Butterfly” in the hopes that Lyric’s conservative Italian-repertoire-centered audiences would accept the piece.  Twenty-three years later, “Katya,” as it is often referred to in English, is still a tough-enough sell for Lyric audiences that those loose connections are once again being brought out of moth balls.  Yes, it is true that Janácek loosely claimed such an inspiration, but aside from the virtually opposite music worlds that these two early twentieth-century operas occupy—Puccini looking back to a previous century, Janácek a composer of his time who sought to innovate and look ahead—the heroine of “Butterfly” remains faithful to her husband whereas “Katya” is the one who cheats on her husband. Despite the considerable sympathy that is built up for Janácek’s heroine, that remains a crucial dramatic difference. Read the rest of this entry »

Photo: Michael Brosilow

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The best direction is usually transparent; when a play is really working, you’re not thinking about the director. But when it fails, the director inevitably shoulders the blame. Sean Graney, The Hypocrites founder, is never transparent. He likes to work with classic texts and, to varying degrees, reconstruct them with his fingerprints visible throughout. As long as you can accommodate his penchant for out-of-context non sequiturs, it mostly works, sometimes to wonderful effect.

Playwright Charles Ludlam died of complications from AIDS in 1987, in the twilight of Reagan’s reign, still in the early years of the above-ground emergence of gay culture—less than twenty years after Stonewall and less than a decade after the pansexual hedonism of Studio 54. In this environment, cross-dressing camp theater had come of age, with a dint of the avant-garde and a winking naughtiness. When Ludlam died, camp too was on its deathbed, at least as a politically subversive aesthetic idea; it lives on and succeeds or fails these days simply as entertainment palatable to increasingly mainstream audiences.

You might suspect that Ludlam saw this day coming, for his most prolific legacy, “The Mystery of Irma Vep,” first produced by his Ridiculous Theatrical Company in 1984, elevated the camp device of sending up cultural conventions into a masterful exploration of film and theater that not only flourished as comedy on the page but, in his construction of the play as an over-the-top quick-change vehicle with two actors of the same sex playing all the roles, male and female, through thirty-five costume changes, has the potential to astonish audiences with its stagecraft. Read the rest of this entry »

Peter Oyloe and Andrew Jessop/Photo: Clariss Jessop

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Read any Brothers Grimm lately? That stuff was pretty bloody before we sanitized it for modern child protection. But those yarns were only reflections of their times, simplified literary snapshots of our natural malice. It’s the same device used to great effect in “The Pillowman.”

Katurian (Andrew Jessop) is taken into custody and questioned about gruesome stories he’s written, tales similar to local child murders. He protests his innocence only to discover his guilt by influential association.

Jessop skillfully embodies Katurian’s confusion and disorientation, Peter Oyloe shows painful vulnerability as Michal, Katurian’s child-like brother. Tom Hickey and Johnny Garcia perform a vicious vaudeville as the case’s detectives; Hickey’s nuanced menace is both hilarious and threatening. Director Kimberly Senior’s staging places the audience uncomfortably close to the action, leaving no escape from the piece’s brutality. It’s a reminder that we can’t ignore our cruelty or destroy the records that commemorate it. (Lisa Buscani)

“The Pillowman” plays at Redtwist Theatre, 1044 W. Bryn Mawr, (773)728-7529. Through May 14.

Zack Buell, Chip Davis and Cyd Blakewell

Full disclosure: I booked playwright Laura Eason’s band, Tart, back in the nineties for a gig. We had a good time. And that’s what’s missing from her account of a nineties rock band: the joy and fun that keeps musicians coming back. Eason’s chosen to dramatize the most tedious parts of a music career:  business decisions, political backstabbing and creative disappointment.

The performers succeed in playing the intention and nuance the piece’s construction requires: Chip Davis captures the disappointment of Jim, the band’s tortured genius; Zack Buell’s passive-aggressive machinations as drummer Noah are painful to watch; Cyd Blakewell’s Elisha is alt rock’s Lady Macbeth. Director Anna Bahow’s staging is well paced and makes the most of limited space. Annette Vargas’ Smart Bar /Lounge Ax set is a study in nostalgia; 90s-era concert posters cover graffiti-sprayed walls. It’s an accurate, interesting picture; we just don’t know why everyone’s there in the first place. (Lisa Buscani)

“Rewind” plays at the side project theatre company, 1439 W. Jarvis, (773)973-2150, through December 20.

RECOMMENDED

Certainly nothing compares to a Hubbard Street Dance premiere, but this year’s Winter Series is doing everything it can to top itself. When this fantastically dexterous beast of a company crawls onto this Harris Theater stage this month, it will dig into its pocket to bring with it some of its most dynamic work. It is hard to decide what to get the most excited about. We can be thankful the company will bring back Israeli choreographer Ohand Naharin’s “Tabula Rasa.” Smooth and technical and melancholy and dynamic, there is a reason Naharin is one of the most respected dance makers in the world. Quickly taking his own place on that list is Hubbard Street’s own Alejandro Cerrudo. His “Off Screen” is a testament to his deliciously wiggly aesthetic. But more important, it is a testament to his ability to make us laugh. Johan Inger’s “Walking Mad” will continue that smile’s creep across your face. Set to Ravel’s  ”Boléro,” this theatrical piece elicits laughs and audible gasps out of the audience every time. Apparently Hubbard Street knows that as the dark days of a Chicago winter approach, we all need a little something we can smile about. (William Scott)

At the Harris Theater for Music and Dance, 205 E. Randolph (312)334-7777. December 3-6; Thursday at 7:30pm, Friday at 8pm, Saturday at 8pm and Sunday at 3pm. $25-$90.

Photo: Saverio Truglia

There are bad parts of this patronizing, indulgent production and then there are worse parts, but it’s a train wreck from start to finish. The show purports to be a study about gifts (spoiler: the ultimate gift is the gift of life!) and is structured as a “gift-consciousness” seminar, complete with a PowerPoint presentation and illustrative skits in which actors dressed as sci-fi pilgrims perform childish, reductive scenes about different ways we can give things to people. To the extent that there’s a plot, it consists of actors “rebelling” against their (cult?) leader directing the skits in order to open a box that supposedly contains the audience’s memories. This conflict somehow signifies the lesson that gifts can be “messy” and are more than just material objects. Yes, really. The concept of the show is almost too facile to be believed. But to add insult to injury, G.I.F.T. is pretentious to the nth degree. From the moment the audience enters the large darkened warehouse space, in which we’re asked to follow a pebble labyrinth while bombarded by incense and pat messages about the importance of giving; to the awkward “audience interactions” wherein actors force large, unidentifiable and ugly papier-mâché “gifts” at us; to the performance-art tropes it tries to engage (plastic wrap and repeated motions in futuristic face paint, anyone?), the show actually seems to be asking us to take it seriously. Which is one gift we just can’t give. (Monica Westin)

At Firehouse Square, 459 North Wolcott, collaboraction.org for tickets. Through November 29.