RECOMMENDED

I could never get high enough to understand “Tron,” the 1982 movie that is basically a laser light show inside a computer.  It featured weird costumes and doofy video-game theatrics.  That’s all I know.  And now, for the love of all things 1980s and kitsch, comes “Tran: The Atari Musical,” a show that is as semi-coherent as its inspiration.  This is the latest project from the Scooty & JoJo Show (a.k.a. Scott Bradley and Jonny Stax), a team that generated big buzz last fall with “The Carpenters’ Halloween,” a show that spliced together John Carpenter’s slasher flick, the music of The Carpenters and Muppety puppets.  With “Tran,” the puppets are back, and so is 1982, when “computers were confusing and scary,” and Commodore 64s were all the rage.  Flynn (the Jeff Bridges character, played here with game spirit by Jefrey B. Wilkerson) is the human computer programmer who gets sucked inside the circuitry and joins forces with Tran, the tranny cyber-something, to do who knows what.  Wilkerson has a vague Matthew Broderick quality, and as he stands there in his cropped leather jacket (love the jacket!) working on his computer to a hilariously incongruous manual typewriter sound effect, it’s like “War Games” and “Real Genius” rolled into one.  In fact, I just saw “Hackers” recently, and even though it came out in 1995, I’m telling you, it qualifies as an eighties movie with all its faux hi-techiness.  That’s the kind of thing that gets skewered here, along with eighties animation and trashy white unitards that come equipped with a penis drawn on the crotch; Tran’s has a big question mark.  That’s funny.  The show (written and directed by Bradley, who also plays Tran in a green wig the color of a McDonald’s shamrock shake) is like a runaway train—anything can happen, it feels, and mistakes are a good thing in an environment where extra points go for double entendres and a version of Styx’s “Renegade” somehow becomes a sing-along.  Oddly, in a show like this, there are considerable dead spots.  Less exposition, more Tran please.  (Nina Metz)

At The Spot, 4437 N. Broadway. This production is now closed.

RECOMMENDED

What is it like to be one of Reagan’s kids? Get a glimpse this President’s Day. Chicago Opera Vanguard presents the world concert premiere of “Reagan’s Children: An Opera-Oratorio” by Chicago composer Eric Reda. The piece sets to music the eulogies presented at Ronald Reagan’s June 10, 2004 interment ceremony by his three surviving children, along with sections of the requiem text, patriotic standards and Tennyson’s poem “Crossing the Bar,” creating a requiem for the man who was, in many ways, the father of our modern political climate. Relatively small by operatic standards, “Reagan’s Children” is scored for four soloists, a treble, a sixteen-voice male choir, three pianos and a string quartet. Hosted by Martyrs’ Pub, usually a home for live music, Reda’s alternative opera is a perfect event for those looking to satisfy an intellectual curiosity on a national holiday while satisfying a thirsty belly on a day off from work. (William Scott)

At Martyrs’, 3855 N. Lincoln, (773)404-9494

Fans of the phantasmagorical take note. Tantalus Theatre Group’s “Dreadful Penny’s Exquisite Horrors” now inhabits the attic at Bailiwick. The climb to the space, through the scene shop and very old, very narrow stairs, sets the perfect tone for a look into the darker resources of one’s soul. The attic itself makes your skin crawl a bit. Once settled in though, the performance is too rigid to really have the desired effect. That is to say that there are many components of a core-shaking horror show but the mark is missed in the way it engages the audience. Structured as a macabre variety show presided over by the title character, an ensemble of mutilated women each take a turn demonstrating their skills and each one meets an ultimate demise of body or spirit. Alexandra Herryman’s script, written with director Glen Cullen, strives to engage the audience in an uncomfortably intimate way. It wants to get murky and personal but it is presented as a play instead of an environmental event that allows the horrific acts to unfold around an unsuspecting ticket holder. There the play dies. (William Scott)

At the Bailiwick Arts Center, 1229 W. Belmont, (773)549-8080. This production is now closed.

RECOMMENDED

If you’re looking for an inexpensive and family-friendly, temporary tropical-holiday getaway, spend a couple of hours this week at the Chicago Theatre with “Cirque Dreams Jungle Fantasy.” Not to be confused with the Cirque du Soleil moniker, Cirque Dreams is a separate franchise of elaborate touring shows that mixes the European circus or cirque tradition with Broadway-style musical entertainment. This particular incarnation, which is having its Chicago premiere for a special one-week-only set of shows, uses a lush, tropical environment as the backdrop for an enchanted forest full of an international array of graceful aerialists, spine-bending contortionists, vine-swinging characters, strongmen and balancers that together with stage designs, special effects, choreography, puppeteering and “Lion King”-like costumes all set to an original musical score. (Dennis Polkow)

At the Chicago Theatre, 175 North State, (312)263-1138. This production is now closed.

RECOMMENDED

 If anyone is going to steal Christmas, it might as well be a diva like Amy Armstrong, who can steal a show, a scene, whatever, just by showing up. She is, in the best sense, a woman of large, demanding charisma, and you can see the evidence for yourself this weekend at the Lakeshore Theater. (By the way, is it just me, or is the Lakeshore always in a state of semi-fog? It’s like there’s a permanent smoke machine clicked on low—and, why?) Back to Armstrong. She has clearly rehearsed the music for this cabaret revue, but all the banter in between is of-the-moment. With Freddy Allen accompanying on piano (and Mark Diffenderffer on drums), Armstrong peeks her head out from the curtain and sings, “All I want for Christmas is a one-night stand.” Well, alright. Armstrong is a natural comedian, and she is not afraid to engage with the audience. In fact, she courts it. “The bar is open throughout the entire show!” she said, followed, an hour later, by a sarcastic: “Gee, I’m glad we left the bar open for the whole show,” as the crowd threatened to topple out of control. Only Armstrong could get away with such a bait and switch. Get drunk! And then, pull yourself together, ya drunks. “Hey, whore!” was a heartfelt greeting shouted from the peanut gallery. “I know that person,” Armstrong shot back—and the thing is, I think she did. Another catcall: “Suck it!” Armstrong: “Oh, hi Chad!” The show (which could use some beefing up in the second half) also includes a number that was new to me, called “I Farted on Santa’s Lap (Now Christmas Is Gonna Stink),” and a liquor-themed “12 Days of Christmas”: “Three shots of Makers; two Slippery Nipples; and a large Long Island Iced Tea.” She only made it through nine. Did I mention? Armstrong has a killer voice, and she can carry a tune while sipping a cocktail. Now that’s talent. Hearing that someone in the audience was doing whippets in the bathroom, she recounted an anecdote: “I always wanted the whipped cream more than the whippet,” and proceeded to act out the episode. That story segued to another: “One time, someone gave me pot brownies.” “One time!” the audience roared back. “Freakin’ marabou,” she said coughing on stray bits of her costume, “how do you drag queens do it?” She’s like the one person you really want to show up at your party. (Nina Metz)

At the Lakeshore Theater, 3175 N. Broadway, (773)472-3492. This production is now closed.

Not your childhood Hans Christian Anderson. Frank Galati’s adaptation, in collaboration with Chicago folk musician Michael Smith and master puppeteer Blair Thomas, returns to Victory Gardens after a successful run last year. Not so much a play as a kind of children’s folk opera, the show walks a fine line between a playful musical retelling and an extravagant spectacle, complete with elaborate puppets and a full band circling the stage. The music that comprises the production is occasionally superb, and several of the musicians are extremely talented, but the songs alone can’t hold the story together, and the narrative in between songs gets neglected with plot taking a back seat to all other dramatic elements. The acting is mostly engaging, often leaning heavily toward camp, with Andrew Keltz and Blair Robertson in energetic if occasionally saccharine lead performances, but on the whole, the dramatic element of the show lags behind its aesthetics. That said, Thomas’ puppetry, Jeff Bauer’s diorama-like set, which artfully interprets original cut-out pictures of Anderson himself, and the costumes/masks are exquisite. (Monica Westin)

At the Victory Gardens Biograph Theater, 2433 N. Lincoln Ave, (773)871-3000. This production is now closed.

C.S. Lewis on stage is exactly what you get for seeing Provision Theater’s “C.S. Lewis On Stage.” Tim Gregory, artistic director of the young company, has chosen this one-man portrait of the author who brought us “The Chronicles of Narnia” and “The Screwtape Letters” to open Provision’s fourth season. Under Gregory’s adept direction, Bradley Armacroft extracts every ounce of nuance from Tom Key’s adaptation of passages from Lewis’ literature. Armcroft becomes the charismatic writer. Framed as a conversation with the audience in the comfort of his home study (designed with beautiful detail by John Zuiker), the play rides moments of greatness, mostly when Armacroft inhabits the pages of Lewis’ writings. Truth be told, though, a one-act might do more justice to the legacy of Lewis. Although the threads of biographical information are handy, they don’t sing like Armacroft’s oral interpretation. At an hour and a half and an intermission, the play goes a little too long.

At the Viaduct, 3111 N. Western, (773)296-6024. This production is now closed.

RECOMMENDED

Sublime revelation and captivating entertainment in a visually stunning and thought-provoking work—James Thiérrée and his exceptionally talented cast’s performance blends dance, acrobatics and music, alluding to genres and tropes from silent films to street magicians and improvisational comedy. Five characters tell a mythical story in a protean and dynamic space where sounds and music inhabit bodies that seem to move involuntarily as a medium for unseen forces, even as they execute brilliant and heart-stopping choreography, from ballet to gymnastics. Thematically influenced by Chaplin, Thiérrée’s grandfather and Beckett’s clowns, the piece also provides enough fodder for meditation on media and performance theory to satisfy the most theoretical audience. But “Farewell Umbrella” is also extremely funny, constantly upsetting expectations for how the performers’ bodies act and are acted upon as they dance with objects, morph into different entities and use the striking props and set in endlessly inventive ways. (Monica Westin)

At the Chicago Shakespeare Theater, 800 East Grand, (312)595-5600. This production is now closed.

RECOMMENDED

Apparently the Chicago market is adjusting to the fact that the Radio City Christmas Spectacular is beginning and ending its area run almost a month earlier, though I confess I prefer a show like this opening in uh, December, or at least after Thanksgiving rather than the week between Halloween and Veteran’s Day. But then, this is the Christmas show by which all others are measured, a holiday tradition since 1933 when the Radio City Music Hall would stage live Christmas shows in between movie screenings and also existing in various touring incarnations as well. The show is relentless, with one spectacular production number following another, including a sendup of “The Nutcracker” complete with dancing Teddy Bears (and Santa picking an “audience member” complete with dance shoes and knowing where her mark is, to join in), a peek inside Santa’s workshop and a magical world of singing toys complete with Santa’s elves (played by real “little people”) and Rockefeller Center at Christmastime, right down to the big Christmas tree and the snow. And then there are the Rockettes, that line of sleek, gorgeous women who dance and sing their hearts out in stunning, sexy costumes. Just when you think the whole thing couldn’t possibly top itself, you’re magically transported back to Bethlehem and the first Christmas in a living nativity that includes all of the trappings, from shepherds and magi—with real camels, no less—to Mary and Joseph arriving on a live donkey. By the time the Star of Bethlehem shines through the theater and the cattle and sheep are lowing—literally—it’s hard not to get that radiant burst of feeling that only comes with the true spirit of Christmas before coming out to autumn leaves and realizing that you have six more weeks to go to try and sustain it. (Dennis Polkow).

At the Rosemont Theater, 5400 N. River Rd., Rosemont, (312)559-1212. This production is now closed.

RECOMMENDED

In 1977, Voyager I and II were launched on their indefinite missions towards the far reaches of space. Each one contained in it a golden record, a kind of time capsule chronicling mankind’s achievements, from the ability to age and date radioactive isotopes to the sounds of Chuck Berry. In 1869, a golden spike was driven into the ground in Utah, commemorating the completion of the first Transcontinental Railroad. Both events changed the way that people would view time and distance, both the literal distance between objects in space and the sometimes-intangible distance between people. Cupola Bobber’s show, “The Man Who Pictured Space from His Apartment,” explores these themes through characters who may be just two dudes shooting bull in an apartment, and may very well be the stars above watching them. The show opens on a sparse apartment in Humbolt Park, with cardboard planes forming the floor and ceiling, creating a horizon, an optical illusion and a kind of intricate machine as trap doors and pulleys drop instructions and glasses of Sherry into the men’s hands. It’s a bit hard to follow, but rewarding, with intense and occasionally exhausting physical performances by Stephen Fiehn and Tyler B. Myers. (ELR)

At 1359 N. Maplewood. This production is now closed.