The Gee’s Bend quilts have become a national symbol of the struggle of the civil rights movement, the quilts themselves having appeared in museums and even on postage stamps, drawing attention to the lives and struggles of the African-American women who created them over the decades while singing spirituals and gospel music, reflecting their day-to-day struggles just trying to get by in a segregated South. The idea of telling the story of these women in stage form is an inspired one, but what is ultimately lacking in this Midwest premiere presented by Northlight Theatre despite a solid cast is, well, much of a story. What we get is a lot of talking about the quilts and lots of canned music that sometimes the cast sings along with, but virtually no scenes where the women are actually working on them nor where we as audience members get to see them, so their symbolic status is frustratingly unexplored. What we get instead is a series of isolated and superficial vignettes related to one family over the decades, with little changing to suggest how much time has passed if it weren’t for telegraphed lines telling us, such as, “I’m on my way to Selma to march.” The ladies go and hear Martin Luther King, but instead of getting any sense of how what he said may have affected or inspired them, they talk about what a “right handsome man” he is while they are listening to him. We get a brutal caricature of an abusive husband (though his death scene is the most credible moment in the show), a dutiful daughter, a gentle grandmother, a wise-cracking friend, blah-blah-blah, in short, an overlong after-school-special version of “The Color Purple” without the depth, insight or poetry. (Dennis Polkow)

At Northlight Theatre, 9501 N. Skokie, Skokie, (847)673-6300. This production is now closed. 

Even though Ella Fitzgerald will forever be known as “The First Lady of Song,” her life was exceptionally uninteresting. Completely devoted to her art, she lived a virtually monastic and nomadic life, taking the gospel of Ella wherever and whenever she could, even after her health had deteriorated to the point where she had to be helped onstage and would have oxygen and a cot waiting for her at stage’s edge. The audience was always Ella’s “family,” wherever she went, and unlike, say, Judy Garland, who always wanted to take the audience home with her and would hit the wagon because she couldn’t, Ella was happy to separate her private and public persona. All of this is why Jeffrey Hatcher’s “Ella” is a disservice to the great singer on so many levels. For all of her obvious talent, E. Faye Butler does not look like, dress like, act like, talk like, nor sing like Ella in any way, shape or form. Her vocal center of gravity is far deeper than Ella’s and all of the vocal “tricks” that Butler displays which are so commonplace among singers—such as over-emoting to create tension, holding back vibrato until a climactic note—are things that Ella herself would never do, and the fact that the opening night audience of this Northlight Theatre production went so crazy for such antics suggests that such an audience would have been bored had it been able to experience the subtlety, playfulness, flexibility and general girlishness of the real Ella. Worse, the four-piece band engaged for this production is a hard-core bebop band with no swing sensitivity, and to quote the Ellington tune that Ella made her own, “It Don’t Mean a Thing (If It Ain’t Got That Swing).” Had a trumpeter played with the over-the-top, bull-loose-in-a-china-shop bravura that trumpeter Ron Haynes constantly displayed, Ella would have restored balance and order. We are also asked to believe that Ella would actually reveal intimate (and fictional) family details in the middle of a concert that are set up in the interest of some semblance of drama but never even resolved. But perhaps the most offensive part of “Ella” is giving her manager Norman Granz credit for Ella’s trademark scat singing when the reality is that Granz was the one who managed to “tame” Ella’s vocal improvisations enough so that she would do straight song renditions of classic standards. All in all, this fictional “Ella” is so off the mark that it comes off more as “The First Lady of Wrong.” (Dennis Polkow)

At Northlight Theatre, 9501 N. Skokie, Skokie, (847)673-6300. This production is now closed. 

By Nina Metz

This is a ripe time for Chicago playwrights according to Brett Neveu, whose latest work, “Weapons of Mass Impact,” opens Monday at A Red Orchid Theatre. 

Over the past six years or so, no other local playwright has had as much new work produced as Neveu. You’d think the guy has it made. “The problem with that is ‘playwright’ and ‘have it made’—those two things never go together,” he says as we talk by phone.

He made this observation, by the way, from his new home in Los Angeles, where he and wife Kristen moved in August with their daughter, Lia Pearl, who turned 1 last week. “Mostly it was because we had the baby and we needed to have some more stability money-wise—or at least try to get that stability.” Kristen, who is a mixed-media artist, was the first to land a job. She works at Warner Bros. in the art department. And like so many before him, Neveu is hoping to write for television and film.

If he lands a lucrative writing gig—which seems likely, judging by his success to date—he will join the ranks of other nationally known playwrights who subsidize their theater dreams with Hollywood dollars, including Craig Wright (“Six Feet Under”), Theresa Rebeck (“Law & Order: Criminal Intent”) and Chicago’s own Rick Cleveland (who was just hired to write for AMC’s “Mad Men”).

It is a smart move for Neveu, 37, who was supporting his family primarily on teaching jobs (most recently at Northwestern) and playwriting commissions, which pay anywhere from $5,000-$10,000, depending on the theater. Neveu has had no shortage of commissions—companies such as the Goodman, Steppenwolf, Northlight and Writers’ have paid him to write plays. Currently he has commissions from the Manhattan Theatre Club in New York and Royal Court Theatre in London.

I’ve been commissioned many, many times,” he says, but “I’ve only had one theater produce the play they commissioned.” That would be “Old Town,” a musical about backroom political dealings set on election night in Cook County, which debuts in April at Strawdog. “They put it in the season before it was even finished,” a rare show of confidence from a theater.

But Neveu’s artistic home in Chicago is still A Red Orchid, where the claustrophobic dimensions of the stage seem perfectly suited to “Weapons of Mass Impact,” about a trio of kidnapped women who endure interrogation at the hands of their foreign captors—and at the hands of one another. 

The play is part of a trilogy that began with “Harmless,” seen last year at Timeline. (Part three is called “Old Glory” which Neveu is working on for Writers’ Theatre.) The plays each take place in the middle of the current decade, and they focus on how regular folks “mentally deal with the situations that crop up as a result of a country at war in the modern age.”

Despite the heavy subject matter, Neveu’s plays contain a sly sense of humor. He’s not writing jokes. The way Neveu sees it, people are just funny when they talk. “Especially in tense situations.” He doesn’t craft the perfectly articulated argument that would never transpire in real life. He writes dialogue that is riddled with awkward social niceties and subconscious hostility. He writes the way people genuinely talk, which is hilarious if you really listen to it.

The move to L.A. notwithstanding, Neveu is focused on theater. A possible strike by the Writers Guild of America “makes it harder for me [to get a job right now], so I’ll just wait until resolution happens. Whatcha gonna do?” He has a pair of commissions to work on, at any rate.

And more to the point, “My end goal was never to be a screenwriter or a TV writer. My end goal was to be a playwright, and that’s always been the case. Actually, my end goal is to be a writer, whatever it’s for. Actually, my end goal is just to have a job that I like.”

And regardless of what the future may bring, “I will always consider myself a Chicago playwright.”

“Weapons of Mass Impact” opens October 22 at A Red Orchid Theater, 1513 North Wells, (312)943-8722.

RECOMMENDED

Northlight Theatre kicks off its thirty-third season with James Magruder’s light and lively new translation of Moliere’s satire on the love of money, “The Miser.” Contemporary tweaks made to the period comedy work well, infusing the production with energetic stage business and plenty of laughs—bawdy, albeit innocuous, double entendre abound. Rachel Anne Healy’s elegant costumes, against the backdrop of an inspired, minimal scenic design from Tim Morrison, give the production a crisp and vibrant foundation. Gene Weygandt’s Harpagon, the paranoid, greed-driven patriarch, is spry and quick on his feet; charming, even. Under Mark E. Lococo’s direction, this miser has become a genuine showman (in perhaps the most vigorous scene of the play, when his money chest is stolen, Harpagon is alone onstage, engaging the audience with a tirade reminiscent of a stand-up routine). But there is a price to be paid for this dynamism—and it comes out of the pockets of Harpagon’s children and their respective love interests (or rather those of the actors who portray them), all whom suffer under his money-grubbing thumb. These are the characters we’re supposed to be rooting for, sympathizing with, but they, their trials and their triumphs are often overshadowed by Weygandt’s feistiness, sometimes simply neglected by Magruder’s script, leaving a craving for balance. Amongst the supporting ensemble, Bob Fairbrooks and Dietrich Gray are both solidly watchable; but it’s the divine Jacqueline Williams who, with impeccable timing and delivery, is an absolute standout as Frosine, the clever matchmaker. (Valerie Jean Johnson)

At Northlight Theatre, 9501 N. Skokie, Skokie, (847)673-6300. This production is now closed. 

Wilde in the Wild, Wild West? That’s what first came to my mind when I heard that American director William Brown had taken and adapted Oliver Goldsmith’s eighteenth-century comedy of English manners “She Stoops to Conquer”—to which the more well-known nineteenth-century comedy of English manners “The Importance of Being Earnest” by Oscar Wilde owes much for its style and substance—and set it in the American-as-apple pie frontier of Montana circa 1895. And, as if that weren’t enough interpretive verve, the production has been musicalized with American folk music by composer Andrew Hansen and cutesy lyrics (“Join the Western Meadowlark and turn this tale around/Who knows what we’ll stoop to conquer when there’s pleasure to be found”) courtesy of Doug Frew and Patti McKenny. But while Northlight’s production looks good (the actors have been beautifully costumed and the women dazzlingly bejeweled by designer Rachel Anne Healy), and looks occasionally fun thanks to some splendid physical bits, I found myself only mildly entertained—the down-home country drawls adorning the text’s British argot sounding strangely disconcerting to my ear—as well as puzzled as to why more of Hansen’s clever songs weren’t written to replace the miles of witty yet verbose exposition that infamously burden the first half of Goldsmith’s classic play. On the positive side, Brown’s production succeeds in effortlessly emphasizing the Irish author’s concern with class and elitism by keeping the characters of Young Marlowe and Hastings the persnickety Brits they are from the original—sporting highbrow attitudes, thick accents and dapper suits (again, those wonderful costumes)—and dropping them into this Ponderosa world of puckish cowboys and cowgirls. The visual contrast alone is delicious commentary on English class snobbery. I’m likely to be the dissenter from the critical chorus of approvals on this one, as on paper, the concept sounds great. Still, I can’t help but express disappointment for a production that only occasionally sings and improves on the cherished original. (Fabrizio O. Almeida)

North Shore Center for the Performing Arts, 9501 Skokie Boulevard, Skokie, (847)673-6300. Thu 7:30pm/Fri 8pm/Sat 3 & 8pm/Sun 2:30pm & 7pm/Tue 7:30pm/Wed 1pm & 7:30pm. $34-$54. Through April 29.

RECOMMENDED

With the complete original cast reprising their delicious turns, returning to “The Great and Terrible Wizard of Oz” was always likely to be a good thing.  And despite the change in scenery—Skokie’s Northlight Theatre is where Dorothy and her friends have landed since a tornado whisked them away from Chicago’s Viaduct Theatre sixteen months ago—the House Theatre’s hit revisionist take on the L. Frank Baum classic is in terrific shape, having lost little in transition to the suburbs.   Indeed, despite an opening night technical glitch (that those clever Housters nonetheless turned into a joke by evening’s end), some original staging that was less than effective as played in Northlight’s three-quarters in the round configuration and an audience participation that was a little quieter than what would normally befit the House, it’s remarkable how much this show accomplishes in its two short hours.  But all the visual and narrative inventiveness aside, I found that the show’s colossal heart remains in its ability to fully realize every quirky character it presents “for our consideration.” Read the rest of this entry »

There’s a lot of false-seeming piety going around these days, and I walked into Northlight Theatre’s “Inherit the Wind” looking for reassurance. The Scopes trial (a.k.a. The Monkey Trial) of 1925, on which the play is based, pitted creationism vs. evolution. Somewhere in the fog of my high-school memories was a faint recollection of Jerome Lawrence and Robert E. Lee’s play, and it promised a comforting worldview where logic and reasoning topple the spittle and dreck espoused in the name of religion. What I failed to recall was how corny “Inherit the Wind” really is, something Jessica Thebus’ production doesn’t exactly eschew, especially in the early, pre-courtroom goings. (Too often, it feels like a production designed for school groups.) But once the parties settle down for the courtroom smackdown, the show gains momentum exponentially. The vamping, the oratorical pyrotechnics—they’re all there in the performance of Tony Mockus, as the prosecuting attorney based on bible-thumping William Jennings Bryan. His self-serving ardor is offset by Scott Jaeck, in the role inspired by Clarence Darrow, giving a low-key but detailed performance that provides ballast and meaning to the story’s outcome. (Nina Metz) 

This production is now closed.

RECOMMENDED

If the publicity shot for playwright William Nicholson’s Tony-nominated “The Retreat from Moscow”—a family photo ripped down the middle—doesn’t hint at the chilly drama to follow, then director BJ Jones and designer Linda Buchanan’s production leaves little doubt: the austere classical music; the withered trees dangling within the skewed proscenium arch; the Bergmanesque winter hues of the set and costumes. Nonetheless, Northlight’s beautifully observed production radiates with a warm humanity from its truthfulness and sensitivity that will make “The Retreat from Moscow” a gripping experience for any individual who has ever wondered why his parents came together in the first place. Indeed, a lot has been made of this play as a story about marital disintegration. And while it certainly explores that emotional landscape with wit, humor and intelligence through its many scenes from a marriage, Nicholson’s drama but especially Northlight’s production strikes me more as a play about Jamie, the young man caught in the middle. Read the rest of this entry »

Despite the popularity of “Seventh Heaven” and “The Passion of the Christ,” few contemporary plays are driven by evangelical Christian themes of God and religion. Craig Wright’s “Grace” (currently at Northlight in Skokie) is an exception, but that’s really all it has going for it. A young couple moves to a generically bland apartment complex in Florida where their marriage deteriorates faster than an eroding coastline. He is a self-described prayer warrior who says things like, “I’m not a knower, I’m a believer.” She is less zealous and a bit lonely home alone all day, and so naturally takes up with their neighbor, an introvert recovering from a near-fatal car accident. Popping in near the start, and again at the very end, is the exterminator (played with relaxed ease by Mike Nussbaum), who offers some withering thoughts on the question of God’s existence. All four characters suffer a crisis of faith—whether it is a literal faith in God, or a more generalized faith in oneself and life overall—big issues rendered as the stuff of soapy cartoon, amounting to an hour-and-forty-five-minutes worth of “so what?” The same old arguments get rehashed—if God exists, why is there such horrific suffering?—but they don’t shed much light on who these people are, or why we should care about their inner turmoil. Read the rest of this entry »

“A Marvelous Party,” Northlight Theatre’s 90-minute song, dance and anecdotal tribute to Noël Coward’s fertile talents as a writer, composer and lyricist, could have been a welcome alternative to the blandly amiable holiday entertainments populating the boards this time of year. Unfortunately, bland and amiable, adjectives not typically associated with the infamous “doyen of the bitchy bon mot,” aptly describe this milquetoast musical revue comprised of twenty-seven Noël Coward songs and sprinkled with autobiographical tidbits, Cowardian gossip and historical context. According to director David Ira Goldstein, its aim is to “…give some idea of the breadth of Coward’s musical achievements.” And while the hand-picked songs, running the gamut from the hilarious (“Mad Dogs and Englishmen”) to the haunting (“There Are Bad Times Just Around the Corner”), to the frivolous (“Mrs. Worthington”) to the famous (“Mad About the Boy”), achieve this to some degree, the evening is disappointing because it settles for presenting a mostly safe, one-sided portrait of a complex artist. Although Coward never publicly declared his homosexuality, the acerbic witticisms and delicious double-entendres of his best prose and lyrics stem from a strong gay undercurrent, a camp quality that invariably fought against the conventional and predictable and that in this show is noticeably missing. Too little, too late, the last ten minutes give an inkling of this sensibility when an updated version of “Let’s Do It,” complete with raffish references to Harry Potter (who does it with his wand) and Roger Ebert (with his thumbs), rouses the entire house and finally provides a glimpse of the connoisseur of camp who had talent not only to amuse, but also to arouse. (Fabrizio O. Almeida)

North Shore Center for the Performing Arts, 9501 N. Skokie, Skokie, (847) 673-6300. Tue 7:30pm/Wed 1pm & 7:30pm/Thu 7:30pm/Fri 8pm/Sat 3pm & 8pm/Sun 2:30pm & 7pm. (No shows 12/24 & 1/3) $34-$56. Through Jan 8.