Game Play meets Media meets Live Theater for Dungeons & Dragons: The Twenty-Sided Tavern

Dungeons & Dragons, invented by Gary Gygax and Dave Arneson, was first released as a table top role-playing game in 1974. In what could be described as the ultimate slow burn, in the last fifty years it has grown from a niche game of “nerds” to a cultural powerhouse with multiple editions, books, homages in hit tv shows like Big Bang Theory, Community and Stranger Things, a major motion picture and, since 2024, an off-Broadway show. The latest iteration is the National Tour: DUNGEONS & DRAGONS The Twenty-Sided Tavern.

The show, a combination of improv comedy, immersive theater, audience participation and actual game play, is set in the Forgotten Realms, an official Dungeons & Dragons campaign setting. The set looks like a cross between a tavern and a frat-house, with large screens along the back that display the backdrop of any given scene, or display information for the audience. The cast includes the Dungeon Master (Conner Marx) and the Tavern Keeper (Alex Stompoly), running an adventure for a small cast of improv actors. The night I attended, original cast members Madelyn Murphy and Diego Salinas were joined by special guest Anjali Bhimani.

D&D is inherently a game that requires quick thinking and community involvement. For most of its history, that community would have been the players at the table and the Dungeon Master (the person running the game). What was once an intimate experience in someone’s living room or den changed when live-streaming video became popular – especially during Covid lockdown. In the live stage show, the audience not only watches the cast play the game and act out scenes but also gets to dictate some of the player’s choices. In that way, it’s a lot like a Choose Your Own Adventure book from the 90’s, except there’s a theater full of enthusiastic game players shouting out advice and voting on their smart phones through an interactive web page. The combination of tech, performance and audience engagement makes each night a unique experience.

And what an experience it is: it was up to the charming Conner Marx to explain the ins and outs of the game, as well as fill in as non-player characters (NPCs) while Alex Stompoly ran the tech, made sly comments and generally kept things moving along. Madelyn Murphy has a physical, infectious cheerfulness that worked perfectly for her character, a fearsome warrior-bird (with a lot of love to give). Diego Salinas brought a quick-witted goofiness to his magician-cowboy-undead skeleton character that was unexpectedly loveable. Anjali Bhimani rounded out the threesome as a coy cat-burglar who was of course, actually a cat. As complicated as the game play may seem, the premise was simple and open-ended enough to leave plenty of room for the unexpected, and to be understood by non-game players like myself and my companion. Last night’s story required our merry band to go on a quest to find six magical objects in order to save their world from a demon who’d slipped out of a hole in the dimension, and included a talking Chicago style hot dog who taught Bhimani’s character how to love, Murphy’s character adopting a 47^th child, Salinas saving young people with classic literature and an epic battle that involved both swords and catnip.

Aside from the voting and other phone-related participation, a few audience members were also brought on stage to help move things along or even step in as a character. One wonderful moment was the inspired line-readings of a ten-year-old boy, assisted by the cast. Another was when an audience member reminded Bhimani of an option she had when taking a turn. Because many outcomes depended quite literally on the role of a dice or an audience directive, there were several genuine surprises for everyone. This show is perfect for family groups, regardless of their familiarity with the game itself. Special guests will be appearing throughout the Chicago run, including Damien Haas, Erika Ishii, Aabria Iyengar and Jack Lepiarz. If you’re looking for a fun night out that is as unique as it is entertaining, you can’t go wrong with The Twenty-Sided Tavern.

Highly Recommended

Reviewed by Alina C. Hevia

DUNGEONS & DRAGONS The Twenty-Sided Tavern can be seen at Chicago’s Broadway Playhouse at Water Tower Place (175 E. Chestnut St., Chicago) for a limited seven-week engagement, August 12 – September 28. Performances are Tuesday through Thursday at 7:00 p.m., Fridays at 7:30 p.m., Saturdays at 2:00 p.m. & 7:30 p.m., and Sundays at 1:00 p.m. and 6:30 p.m.

Individual tickets are on sale now and range from $50.00 – $70.00 with a select number of premium tickets available. Additional fees apply for online purchases. For more information, visit www.BroadwayInChicago.com.

Additional information about this and other area productions can be found by visiting www.theatreinchicago.com.

Explore real-life trauma with dream logic in FEMALE, ASHKENAZI WITH A SEWING MACHINE

Set Designer Viscaya Wilson tells the audience nearly everything they need to know when they walk into the Berger Park Coach House for FEMALE, ASHKENAZI WITH A SEWING MACHINE, written by Jamie Greenblatt, with music by Richard Jennings and directed by Izadorius Tortuga. Dream-like, blue waves cover two walls. An antique Singer sewing machine sits on a small table, a spare, leafless tree, hung with folded paper on strings, frames a bench in the back. This lovely staging continued with an excellent use of space, for example, Anna’s (an expressive Haley Basil) hospital room was effectively created with two hooks and a blanket.

Anna is a young textile artist who was adopted at birth. Her only connection to her biological past is that Singer sewing machine, which is also her best friend and confidant. Then, she meets Benjamin (Keith Surney) a devout Jewish man, who tells her he’s certain she must be Ashkenazi. Margot Chervony rounds out the rest of the cast, playing side characters, an ominous narrator of sorts and various ancestors of Anna’s.

The story centers around Anna’s experiences falling in love, marrying and then being diagnosed with ovarian cancer – a result of the BRCA gene that she didn’t know she carried. A DNA test reveals she is a woman of Ashkenazi decent and therefore had a 1 in 40 chance of developing breast or ovarian cancer, due to a genetic bottleneck traced to the Middle Ages. The facts are woven in and out of the narrative, while Anna at first seems resistant to learning about her heritage, and then accepts it.

There are moments of song, dance and violin music (played well by Venus Fu) weaving in and out of the narrative. Much of the language is poetic and stylized. A semi-finalist in the Jewish Plays Project’s 11^th Jewish Playwriting contest of 2022, one can see why the readers found the creative and ambitious attempt to dramatize the rather dire medical history and dark subject matter compelling. However, once produced, the blend of music, dance, monologues and dream-like scenes come across as rather heavy handed. Chervony plays so many characters, it is also sometimes difficult to know who is who, and whether or not she and Basil are in the real world, or a dream one.

A lighter touch might have made this sorrowful, dramatic story easier to digest. While no laughing matter, many survivors of cancer point to gallows humor as one of their most valuable survival techniques. There were glimmers of what that could look like:  the removal of Anna’s organs involved Chervony’s doctor character pulling a long, growling puppet from a zipper in Anna’s hospital gown, and a repeated refrain that began to take on a tinge of the ridiculous as each character said it. As it was, the moments of levity seemed accidental. Also, unfortunately for the actors, the theater was also stifling hot to the point of distraction, especially given that they were all in winter clothing at some point – if you go, bring a fan and wear light clothing.

Somewhat Recommended

Reviewed by Alina C. Hevia

FEMALE, ASHKENAZI WITH A SEWING MACHINE runs August 7-23^rd on Thursdays and Fridays at 7:30, and Saturdays at 3:00 pm. Berger Park Coach House, 6205 N. Sheridan. Tickets: $25 general, seniors/students $20 on sale at https://www.zeffy.com/en-US/ticketing/female-ashkenazi-with-a-sweing-machine.

Visit www.artsjudaica.com for more information. Additional information about this and other area productions can be found by visiting www.theatreinchicago.com.

Raccoons and Meditation bring enlightenment in BUDDHA’S BIRTHDAY

BUDDHA’S BIRTHDAY, by award winning playwright Amy Crider, began as a ten-minute play written for a Scene Shop Showcase at Chicago Dramatists in 2014. Crider wrote and expanded her original idea, and Lucid Theater Company debuted it August 2, directed by Iris Sowlat.

Pamela (a nervous and likeable Kristie Berger) is a history professor up for tenure. She’s also planning her mother’s 80^th birthday and trying to finish her first book. She’s got a racoon problem in her yard, a leaky roof, and the students at her university are rebelling against the traditional history curriculum. Her husband, Lawrence (a charming Christopher Hainsworth as your favorite college “prof”) a philosophy professor, is doing his best to support her through it all. She does yoga and is a practicing Buddhist, but it’s not helping. Pamela is an anxious mess. It’s affecting every part of her life, and despite her adoring husband and successful career, she is deeply insecure.

As the first act unfolds, Pamela and Lawrence appear to have a loving and solid relationship, though much of their focus is centered on her difficulties getting through any event.

Once Pamela’s mother, Roberta (the delightful Kathleen Ruhl) arrives, the source of Pamela’s raging insecurity is clearer. Ruhl’s Roberta has never held a punch in her life. She has a sharp tongue and a critical eye. She’s also very proud of her other daughter, Ellen, a powerhouse attorney. Crider delivers here with tight, funny, dialogue that is all too familiar to anyone with someone important in their life who only ever seems to notice your flaws. Next is Jennifer (a sweet and sunny Ada Grey), Pamela’s niece, who has flown in for the party after months spent backpacking across the world. The last piece of this family chaos-puzzle is a wily raccoon, who jumps in and out of scenes and creates general havoc, perhaps as a symbol of our inability to truly control anything in this life.

As Pamela strives towards enlightenment, she struggles to connect with each of her family members and her partner, but it’s the relationships between the women that are most interesting. Crider has a keen eye for the complexity inherent in long term and familial relationships. The best part of the show is watching three generations of a family navigate the expectations of each other versus their own personal fulfillment. Ruhl’s Roberta is the definition of a “spitfire” old lady, she’s hilarious, and happily, not my mom. Grey’s Jennifer has a sunny smile and buoyant presence that radiate peace and joy. Her desire to go her own way and easy embrace of self-love highlights her aunt Pamela’s increasingly desperate mind-set, which Berger portrays with a fidgeting, hand wringing intensity. Pamela has spent her whole life desperate for praise and attention from her mother, and it has shaped how much space she allows herself to take up. Pamela’s also spent so much time obsessed with pleasing her mom that she ignores a key conversation with her husband, leading to disastrous results. Luckily, her years of Buddhist practice have left her open to advice from an unexpected source and she finally begins to realize that some of her mother’s narratives that she has accepted without question are utterly wrong.

The text drives towards a confrontation between Pamela and her mother. Her family roots for her, the audience roots for her, and yet, the final act of the play takes an unexpected turn, missing an opportunity. Rather than end with a potentially cathartic confrontation between generations of women, Crider went with a more conventional feminist trope of a woman who cuts herself loose in the span of a moment. Based on the two hours we spent with her, she cut the wrong string, but don’t worry, the raccoon is fine.

Somewhat Recommended

Reviewed by Alina C. Hevia

BUDDHA’S BIRTHDAY runs August 2-17^th on Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays at 7:30, and Sunday at 3:00 pm, present by Lucid Theater Co. at The Edge Theatre, 5451 N. Broadway.

Tickets: $38 plus applicable fees, on sale at www.lucidtheater.com

Please visit www.lucidtheater.com for more information.

Additional information about this and other area productions can be found by visiting www.theatreinchicago.com.

White Rabbit Red Rabbit by Nassim Soleimanpour presented by TUTA THEATRE

In 2010, 29-year-old playwright Nassim Soleimanpour could not acquire a visa to leave his native country of Iran. He wrote White Rabbit Red Rabbit that year, an entreaty to the rest of the world, or perhaps a lifeline, thrown into the dark. The world has been responding since its premiere at the Edinburgh and Summerworks festival in 2011. Since its debut, White Rabbit Red Rabbit has been translated into more than 30 different languages and been performed over 3000 times by some of the best and brightest actors of stage and screen.

Part confessional, part Animal Farm, part cry into the dark, White Rabbit Red Rabbit is like nothing I’ve ever seen, and I’m sorry to inform you, you won’t see it either. That’s because it’s an “experimental” play. It is performed cold, by a different actor each night, who opens an envelope containing the script onstage before the audience. There are no rehearsals, no director and no set to speak of (though a few props). Because of this, each night is utterly unique, and I hesitate to give much away in terms of what happens. The audience participates to a degree – you might want to wear comfortable clothing.

The actor serves as the conduit between the writer, Soleimanpour, and the audience. Sometimes the actor serves as a literal voice for the playwright, sometimes as a character in a story, sometimes as themselves, sometimes as a director.

This sort of experience would only attract a certain kind of actor: one who is comfortable in their own skin, one who can improvise and react on a dime, one who can access a deep, emotional well without any preparation. Tuta theatre company member Huy Nguyen was our conduit, and he performed with a self-effacing charm that was inviting and light-hearted at times, and movingly still at others. Nguyen embraced the uncertainty with a sense of humor and invited the audience to participate with him fully at every moment. We were all on the ride together. There were moments of silliness, catharsis and retrospection. Nguyen willingly opened his heart and his soul to the audience, and we were all rewarded as a result.

Because of its ephemeral nature, written to be interpreted by each actor in each city or language they perform in, White Rabbit Red Rabbit is as universal as it is specific. It explores power dynamics, the need for connection, the undeniable human desire for freedom, and a supplication for altruism. In the world of the play, and perhaps in the real world, when we witness death, suffering or tragedy we become complicit in it. Yet, like in life, it is hard to find examples of any choice that is definitely the right one, hard to know what an outcome will be. This experience is like life, in that sense. No one, not even the actor, knows how it will end, and no one knows if their choice is the right one.

This uncertainty creates a tension and vulnerability that is tangible: the woman seated next to me was squirming in her seat at one point, so frightened she was, of the choices we needed to make. To ask a roomful of strangers to trust each other, to ask the actor to trust an audience with this kind of blind faith, is a transformative experience. It’s one you shouldn’t miss.

TUTA Theatre’s line up for the rest of the run is below:

Oak Park Festival Theatre Presents TWELFTH NIGHT or What You will on its 50th

Austin Gardens, the site for Oak Park Festival Theatre’s summer programming is framed by tall trees, state of the art facilities and walking paths dotted with benches. In the center, a clearing carpeted in soft grass practically begs for picnickers. This is where OPFT places their stage. For this production of Twelfth Night or What You Will, Scenic Designer Evan Frank produced a lovely, blue island for Illyria that had all the windows, doors and crannies one could hope for, and was laden with more and more plants and green things as the show carried on.

Theater in the park is a time-honored tradition in cities all over this country, and Oak Park, unsurprisingly, does it to good natured, tranquil and crystal clean perfection. Couple the park with OPFT’s new, state of the art lighting grid that is as beautiful as it is green and the scenery alone is worth the night out. The sound system is also of an uncommonly high quality for outdoor theater. But what of the play itself?

For its fiftieth season, Artistic Director Peter G. Anderson chose a favorite for many (me included): Twelfth Night. The play was written around the year 1600, to commemorate the Elizabethan English, Catholic holiday of Candlemass, the day that closes the Christmas season. The plot, involving lots of mistaken identity and ridiculous costumes, is lifted in part from the holiday itself, which was a topsy turvy festival when servants would dress up as their masters, men and women in the opposite gender’s clothing, etc, and everyone would eat, drink and sing their way out of the holy season.

The story of Twelfth night begins with VIOLA (Ama Kuwonu) a young woman recently shipwrecked on the shores of Illyria. She had been traveling with her twin brother, SEBASTIAN (Noah Lash) who she presumes drowned. In order to keep herself safe and possibly find a way off the island, she disguises herself as a young man named Cesario, and is quickly hired by the island’s Lord, DUKE ORSINO (Evan Ozer) who is hopelessly in love with a beautiful noblewoman, OLIVIA (Madison Kiernan). Orsino hires Viola/Cesario to help him woo Olivia, who has shut herself up at home after the loss of her own brother, and has rejected Orsino’s proposals of marriage.

Focusing on the shared grief of the two leading ladies, director Anderson adds a new scene at the opening of the play: the funeral of Olivia’s brother. After that, the play moves along as it normally does, and we are soon introduced to the “mechanicals” of this play:  SIR TOBY BELCH ( the excellent Kevin Theis) Olivia’s cousin and a notorious drunken partier, MARIA (a shining Julia Rowley) Olivia’s smart, capable handmaid, SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK ( a lovably dense J Cody Hunt) as well as FABIAN (an unexpectedly hilarious Kason Chesky) another servant in the house, and FESTE (the affable Elijah Newman) Olivia’s professional Fool – and minstrel. Then of course, there is the foil: MALVOLIO, played to a pompous “T” by Josh Carpenter. As usual, it is their scenes that are the biggest crowd pleasers, and they play to the audience with unabashed fun. Theis’ Sir Toby is a smart guy who chooses to grift and party mostly because he can. Theis walks the fine line between total jerk and lovable con artist perfectly. You get the impression that if someone gave him a reason to do more than party, he’d take it, but no one’s had an argument strong enough against it (yet). Hunt’s Sir Andrew has a boisterous physicality that is perfect for the role. Chesky holds his own with the smaller role of Fabian with a talent for physical comedy. He is present at every moment, reacting to the chaos around him with genuine, and hilarious, fear. Rowley’s Maria was another standout, her Maria is an intelligent, self-possessed young woman filled with equal parts affection and admonishment for her fellows. Rowley infuses Maria with a likable, exasperated charm that takes some of the mean edge off her prank.

As is often the case in a comedy, the romantic leads have a much harder job. Ozer’s Orsino pines dramatically over Olivia, with poetry, music and general Emo-behavior, while Viola pines, much more anxiously, over him. Meanwhile, Kiernan’s Olivia has a sorority girl vibe that immediately gets you thinking she and Orsino wouldn’t be a good match regardless. Olivia falls for Kuwonu’s “Cesario,” who can talk to her without the over-dramatic poetry, or stammering on about her beauty. One interesting choice was a new moment between Orsino and “Cesario” that builds the tension between them well and introduces some confusion into Orsino’s confidence in his feelings for Olivia. This helps with his later change of heart.

There were moments of weakness. Sebastian’s sudden acceptance of his new wife is as surprising as usual but given an extra layer of confusion based on some of the scenes between him and Nathan Hile’s slightly incongruous Antonio – the only character dressed in jeans and a leather jacket. One gets the impression that Sebastian is up for anything, or anyone, at any moment. The mics were in the floor of the stage, which meant everyone could be heard clearly, but most of the actors were projecting as if there were no mics. While this worked well when the sound cut out for a few moments, it often meant that they were “projecting” into a speaker uncomfortably close to the audience’s ears. This, and some of the musical pieces, made me wonder if the performers had a monitor that was working well for them – one got the impression that they could not necessarily hear themselves.

That said, it was a lovely night, and the audience had a wonderful time. A special mention should go to Movement Choreographer Margo O’Connell, the physical comedy was especially well done – a must in Shakespeare. For example, the scenes where Carpenter’s Malvolio reads the letter suggesting he wear “yellow stockings and cross garters” and the one in which he wears said outfit, had the audience laughing uproariously. The ensemble worked together seamlessly in a tightly choreographed, comedic dance and Malvolio’s attempt to seduce Olivia was a feat of over the top, physical clownery.

This show is appropriate for families, and the facilities are perfect for an evening picnic. There aren’t many better ways to spend a summer evening.

Recommended

Reviewed by Alina C. Hevia

The Oak Park Festival Theatre stage is at: Austin Gardens, 167 Forest Ave, Oak Park, IL 60302

July 5 – August 16. Schedule: Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays at 8 p.m.; Sundays at 7 p.m.; Wednesday performances on July 9, July 23, and August 6 at 8 p.m.

Tickets: General Admission: $40; children under 12 free. Discounts available for seniors and students. Group rates available for groups of 10 or more. Pay What You Will at any Wednesday or Thursday performance (walk-ups only). Box Office: www.oakparkfestival.com

Additional information about this and other area productions can be found by visiting www.theatreinchicago.com.

Tuta Theatre bring fire and water to life with TOM & ELIZA

Tuta Theatre’s space is a tiny black box, tucked away behind a storefront. The lobby looks like someone’s garage that has been used for storage for the past decade (at least). You have to enter through an ally. Don’t let that stop you – the truism about good restaurants, that they’ll spend money on good food or good ambience, but not both, applies to theater as well.

Entering the theater space, there is a square, black hole where the stage should be. If you squint, two figures appear to be sitting in the middle of it, utterly still. Even more disturbing, most of the audience doesn’t appear to notice. They chat and shuffle to their seats, like any audience, anywhere. Then the house lights go down, and Tom (Clifton Frei) and Eliza (Seoyoung Park) appear. They are dressed in plain linen, sitting on stools, barefoot. Microphones hang by their heads, the stage beneath them glints like a mirror. They speak.

With this initially stilted opening, as sparse as it is informative, the two begin a parallel, cyclical, rhythmic conversation about their shared life and their secret desperation that is a breathless, engrossing and haunting examination of what would normally be considered a pretty ideal trajectory. They go to school and get jobs, they meet and have sex, they get married and have children. They love their children. They have stable careers. All the while, they never leave their stools, they never actually touch. This separation is the first indicator that Tom and Eliza is bigger than two people.

The staging, by director Aileen Wen McGroddy is a masterful lesson in minimalism. Each element, from the sound design by Alex Trinh and the lighting by Keith Parham, to the deceptively simple scenic and costume design by Tatiana Kahvegian, is used to maximum effect and as sparsely as possible. For example, there are moments when Tom and Eliza are turned away from each other, using the microphones to talk. Their voices fill the space, creating a sense of almost uncomfortable intimacy, while neither touching nor even looking at each other. It is a reminder that a well told story, with a talented cast, needs very little to launch an audience into a visceral experience. That said, there is much roiling beneath the surface.

Tom, we learn, is an author who writes about the rivers that birthed civilization. Eliza, a librarian with an unexpected obsession. Tom is delicate and loving. Eliza is emotionally cold, her only real source of joy can be found in destruction.  It is a story about the desperate search for meaning that can derail a life, and examines, under the harsh light of truth, the bleak mundanity that plagues so many modern lives, and the actions we take to feel alive. Yet, it is often very funny and even silly.

This is in part due to the stellar cast. Frei’s Tom is a delicate, damp sort of fellow who longs for connection and can’t find any satisfaction in the life he’s made for himself. Frei’s pure physical strength as he arches his body over and around his stool is captivating – he is always utterly in control. As he dissolves into a metaphorical puddle of former humanity, his physicality is almost painful to see. Park’s facial expressions are perfect and doll-like. Her Eliza has an intensity of focus that is unnerving and just this side of human. The elements of fire and water they each seem to carry within them dance around each other in increasingly distanced ways. The conclusion feels inevitable and yet, as is always the case with excellent fiction, still surprises.

Near the end of the show, there is a moment when the whole room goes utterly dark. Afterwards, walking out into the balmy Chicago summer night, it felt as though we were re-entering America after a strange, unsettling journey in another country. This thoughtful, provoking piece, despite the darkness of the message, left me with a feeling of awe of what theater can do.

Additional information about this and other area productions can be found by visiting www.theatreinchicago.com.

Cerqua Rivera Dance Theatre presents Spring 2025 Concert Series

CRDT debuted their Spring 2025 Concert Series, helmed by co-founder and artistic director Wilfredo Rivera, at the Ruth Page Center for the Arts this past weekend. The program included a collection of pieces from past years and a few premieres, featuring work from choreographers Wilfredo Rivera, Shannon Alvis and Michelle Manzanales and composers Joe Cerqua and James Sanders.

The night opened with Lágrimas Negras, which, despite the name (Black Tears) and the song’s history as a 1931 bolero-son by Miguel Matamoros, was an exuberant celebration of Salsa and other Caribbean rhythms. However, the tone of the night was really set a few pieces later, by Less choreographed by Shannon Alvis, composed by Joe Cerqua and danced by Brennen Renteria. A haunting and emotive piece, it was written in 2020 as a reaction to the experience of lockdown. Renteria danced beautifully, expressing the profound loneliness and fear felt by so many in that year. The next stand out was The Island, choreographed by Michell Manzanales, composed by James Sanders and featuring Lilia Ambler Castillo Gomez and Caitlin Clark. It tells the story of an island in Humboldt Park Lagoon that becomes the refuge of two young girls. The principal dancers infused their movements with a childlike energy that was unmistakable, and the piece also showcased what is so unique to CRDT: an earthy, tactile and intimate physicality.

The use of touch and intimacy was continued in Identity City, a piece from 2023, choreographed by Shannon Alvis, composed by Joe Cerqua and collaborated on by Lucas Greeff. Consisting of several short pieces, each one explored gender identity in a unique and lyrical way, while still adhering to the earthy, organic feel of the earlier pieces. Dancer Yui Nakatani had a particularly lovely solo, called Reflection.

The second half of the night included a Paul Simon cover by Joe Cerqua, and an excerpt from a larger piece by co-founder Wilfredo Rivera, American Catracho (2019). The dance was a semi-autobiographical exploration of Rivera’s own journey as a young immigrant. It was a deeply personal piece, reflected in both the continued use of physical intimacy of the dancers and the costumes, plain streetwear that somehow highlighted the emotional struggles of everyday people as they go about their lives, as if we could see the workings of their souls beneath the trappings of the everyday.

The CRDT style was a captivating departure from other dance companies. More theatrical than a modern or experimental company, but more abstract than theater or ballet. There was a live band, and at times, the musicians left the band box to participate in the dances, creating a deeper feeling of connection between the music and the dance. The dancers themselves move with an athleticism and power that they seem to be channeling up from the very earth itself. At moments in The Island I found myself imagining that the company had emerged from some magical wood, moving with an almost primal grace. Overall, the show was an exploration of identity that seemed to highlight the very physical reality of life as a human in a body, with an occasional, incongruous Paul Simon cover. The style is unique and captivating, and worth coming out to see.

Recommended

Reviewed by Alina C. Hevia

To learn more about Cerqua Rivera Dance Theatre, check out their website www.cerquarivera.org

Additional information about this and other area productions can be found by visiting www.theatreinchicago.com.

Teatro Vista and Filament Theatre present the World Premiere of: Memorabilia

Imagine a steampunk, late seventies era, Geppetto’s workshop: warm wood, various electric lights, a machine of piled tvs, buttons and levers. This is Salvador’s memory workshop. Instead of making toys, Salvador collects memories. He examines them, then pieces them together like puzzles of gossamer and string and sound. What he builds is a mournful celebration, or perhaps a cheerful dissection of memory and the loss of memory that characterizes any person’s life.

MEMORABILIA by Jean Claudio (Salvador) and director Raquel Torre, produced by Teatro Vista Productions and co-presented at Filament Theatre, is a whimsical, bilingual, hard-to-categorize dive into a unique world of sight and sound. In classic clowning fashion, there are very few words. Instead, Salvador’s memories are presented to the audience through dance, acrobatics, clowning, music, video and old-fashioned emoting. It is a reminder that the essential language of humanity is wordless.

Scenic Designer Lauren Nichols created the sort of dreamy workshop you’d want to get lost in for a little while, poking through boxes and pushing buttons. Lighting Designer Conchita Avitia and Sound Designer/Composer Satya Chávez designed the myriad sound and light cues with a sharpness that was precise as a knife but still felt organic. Every flicker of the lights, every sound from the speakers, immersed the audience further into Salvador’s exploration of his memories. For some of Salvador’s more powerful or painful memories, Projection Designer Liviu Pasare created video clips that shined through the windows of the workshop. Each clip had the rapid and fragmentary quality of a racing mind, trying to recall something you know is (was?) important, but can’t seem to grasp in the here and now. The story of Salvador is told in bits and pieces; there is no explanation as to how he lost his memories, started his workshop, or found himself at this moment in his life, and none is needed. This is a moment like any other: when who you were and who you are, are blending into who you will be. Despite these heady, philosophical qualities, the show is chock full of classic jokes like throwing things up that don’t come down, pratfalls, imaginary windstorms and creaky doors, silly jump scares and jaw dropping acrobatics. The absurd elements add to the surreal quality, and the clown elements keep things light and engaging.

There is a lot of audience participation as well, meaning that each night of this show will be unique, dependent in part on who comes to see it. I suspect you could watch several nights in a row and experience something different every time. Choreographer Michel Rodríguez Cintra created an exploration of childhood, falling in love and grief that Jean Claudio’s expressive physicality translates into what feels like a seamless dance. In reality, the show is structured loosely, with extended scenes, dances, clowning or acrobatic moments, interspersed with the audience participation.

Jean Claudio’s varied talents mean that there are often many elements at play in any given scene. In one of the only scenes with lines, Salvador walks through a memory of being a waiter in a cafe and waits on several audience members – taking their orders, chatting with them and serving them coffee. It felt like we were witnessing a light work-place comedy. In another, he uses one of his inventions to hear the songs playing in audience member’s heads, getting the biggest laughs of the night – and a totally different experience than the cafe had been. One magical element I was lucky to witness was a child in the audience whose laughter floated up at different times than the adults’ – usually followed by delighted chuckles from everyone who heard it. It was like a physical infusion of joy and wonder.

My favorite aspect of the show however, was one more specific to me: as a “third culture” kid – the child of an immigrant and the product of a community of bilingual, bicultural families, Memorabilia reflects a mind and a culture that I recognized. Kulikitaka by Toño Rosario gets as much play time as Hit Me Baby One More Time by Britney Spears. Reggaeton is followed by Lionel Richie. Salvador speaks Spanish and English, and the labels in his workshop are in both languages at random. A classic Mexican bolero, El Reloj, threads through the show – emphasizing the power of memory and music through generations, and reminding the audience that we are all a collection of memories, and not only our own: my Cuban grandmother’s favorite songs still play in the back of my mind, accompanied by my father’s love of Albita and my mother’s love of the Beach Boys – they all shaped who I am today, even if I don’t remember all the words.

Despite the silliness, the music and the dance, as the evening progresses, it becomes clear that Salvador is searching for specific memories of a specific person, and many of those memories are tinged blue with grief. While no explanation is given as to how he lost them, it is clear that he desperately wants to get them back. Despite the light touch, if you have ever experienced the intimate horror of watching a loved one become lost to a disease like Alzheimer’s or Dementia, this will strike a chord. But don’t be deterred, if anything, Memorabilia reminds us that we are a collection of all of our memories, forgotten or not, and that the experiences that shape us are with us always. It is hilarious, it is touching, it is memorable.

This is a perfect show to bring the whole family to. In fact, part of the joy is watching others experience it with you. Go see it.

Highly Recommended

Reviewed by Alina C. Hevia

Memorabilia can be seen at the Filament Theater, located at 4041 N Milwaukee Ave
Chicago, IL 60641 June 4 – 29, Wednesdays through Saturdays 7:30 p.m.; Sundays 2 and 6 p.m.  General Admission $45. Each performance has a number of Teatro for All tickets for $20 available on a first come, first served basis. At a higher price, the VIP package ($65) helps support Teatro Vista’s ticket accessibility programs and includes reserved seating and Teatro Vista memorabilia (see what we did there?) as a thank you for being a community champion. Note: Taxes and fees not included.

Group rates available; contact boxoffice@teatrovista.org for details or got to www.teatrovista.org for tickets.

Email boxoffice@teatrovista.org for tickets

Evanston Salt Costs Climbing is a Constant Truism.

Evanston Salt Costs Climbing was originally a writing assignment while playwright Will Arbery was in college: he had to write a short play based on a headline and challenged himself to find the most boring headline imaginable. The resultant mix of mundanity, absurdity, menace and humanity feels so topical it’s hard to believe it debuted in the relatively innocent days of 2018.

The play opens with long time co-workers and friends, Basil (understudy Christopher Hainsworth) and Peter (Jelani West), before a winter workday in 2014. They work for the city of Evanston as Salt Truck Drivers. They have spent enough time with each other to have a shorthand and easy camaraderie, which is interrupted by a cheery visit from their supervisor, Jane Maiworm, played by Ashley Neal. The back and forth feels lived in, the set up feels like an invitation to enjoy a peek into the lives of a specific community in the Midwest

The First Floor Theater company’s production, in the Bookspan at the Den Theatre on Milwaukee, makes great use of the long, narrow space. The salt warehouse, where Basil and Peter spend most of their time, is at one end, and Maiworm’s home is at the other. Lighting Designer Conchita Avitia did a lot of the heavy lifting in separating the space and creating movement, for example, when Basil and Peter are driving their truck. Sound Designer Matt Reich also deserves special mention: from the turning off and on of the truck, to the wind when the imaginary doors are opened, to the ominous tones that fill the room when Basil’s demons appear, the sound cues help fill out the small space and spare staging with detail and texture.

What begins as a slightly quirky, workspace comedy quickly begins to reveal a darker core. Jelani West’s Peter is a loving, supportive friend, plagued with “sadness” that he cannot shake, and often expresses thoughts of suicide. West whips through laughter and pain with an intensity that leaves the viewer unsettled and a little unsure as to danger to himself or others he might pose. Hainsworth’s Basil, meanwhile, writes creepy, strange short stories, but refuses to dive any deeper into the very real darkness Peter is running from.

At first, Maiworm is just a well-meaning, if slightly self-important low-level municipal employee. Soon, however, we discover she is living with her daughter, Jane Jr., played by Jacinda Ratcliffe, who struggles with paralyzing anxiety and suicidal ideation as well. In fact, it’s Jane Jr. who puts words to the feeling that has begun to creep up as the story unfolds: “Don’t you feel that there is something, underneath everything, that wants us to die?” Maiworm refuses to feel it, putting all of her energy into “administration,” fiercely believing in its ability to keep people safe, and build a community that works for everyone. Ashley Neal moves through the production with a desperate cheerfulness and awkward attempts at friendliness that often produce the biggest laughs, though occasionally come off as slightly bigger than necessary in what is ultimately an intimate look at the creeping, cold anxiety that most of us seem to be living with these days.

As the story continues, things begin to twist and turn in weirder and darker directions. As Maiworm struggles to find safer, more environmentally responsible ways to maintain Evanston’s winter roads, Basil reveals a darker and darker past, and Peter’s menacing depression is met with real-life tragedy. Meanwhile, Jane Jr. is frozen in time, year after year she is stuck in her mother’s house, paralyzed with choice and with the ever bleaker trajectory of climate change. Ratcliffe shines for a moment with a short dance number that is as powerful as it is another rather pointless attempt to get out of her anxiety-ridden hermitage.

The last third of the play goes completely off the rails when it comes to plot. Desperation and darkness are everywhere, the veneer of everyday, midwestern cheer thinning with every moment. Tragedy builds on tragedy, and the characters all long to connect with each other, but often have no idea how to do so with any real meaning. In the end, Arbery seems to be saying that it doesn’t really matter. They are there, they are trying, and as the world ends around us, as salt costs only climb, all we really have are each other – it’s the people that matter, even when they can’t understand each other.

Recommended

Reviewed by Alina C. Hevia

Presented at The Bookspan at The Den Theatre, 1331 N. Milwaukee Ave, Chicago. May 15 – June 14, 2025 Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays at 8 p.m.; Sundays at 3 p.m. Tickets for  Evanston Salt Costs Climbing  can be purchased online at:  https://www.firstfloortheater.com and range from $10.00 – $35.00.

Additional information about this and other area productions can be found by visiting www.theatreinchicago.com.

The Blank Theatre’s Sweet Charity is a Ray of Brightly Colored Sunshine.

SWEET CHARITY, written, directed and choreographed by Bob Fosse for Gwen Verdon, made it’s Broadway debut in 1966, and garnered several Tonies. When watching the joyful, silly, brightly colored confection that is the Blank Theatre Company’s production at The Greenhouse Theater Center, its roots as a show conceived by a dancer are easy to see.

The story follows the adventures of Charity Hope Valentine, optimistic dance-hall hostess (or taxi-dancer) with a heart of gold, as she searches for love in New York City. Taxi dancing first appeared in taxi-dance halls in the early 20th century in the United States, in them, male patrons typically bought dance tickets for a small sum each. When a patron presented a ticket to a chosen taxi dancer, she danced with him for the length of a song and earned a commission on every dance ticket she received. Fosse based the musical on the 1957 Italian film, Nights of Cabiria – about a sex worker looking for love, but I’m guessing that was a bridge too far for 1960s era Broadway. It is heavily coded in SWEET CHARITY, however, that the jump from taxi-dancer to sex worker isn’t very far, and it’s interesting to see what has and hasn’t changed much in the 60 or so years since it debuted.

Charity herself is played with a big, bubbly smile by Teah Kiang Mirabelli. The show opens with a hopeful, energetic number, before her dirt-bag boyfriend betrays her. She takes her sorrows to work, and her friends and co-workers give her tough love, which moves into one of the most famous numbers of the show: Hey Big Spender. This is also when the production begins to shine. I suppose it should be no surprise that a show conceived by a dancer would have wonderful, expressive dance numbers, but it was a surprise at just how great this ensemble carried it off. It’s a difficult thing to find dancers who can sing, and vice versa. Director McKenzie Miller uses each player perfectly, creating a beautiful, ever-changing whirlwind of characters. Choreographer Lauryn Schmelzer must have memorized the exact width and depth of the stage, because the dancers move across it with a precision and fluidity that are captivating. The design team of Cindy Moon as costume design, Amy Gillman scenic design, Ellie Humphrys lighting design and Abby Gillette on props also do a wonderful job of creating a slightly psychedelic, cheerful environment, just shy of too much.  The use of pop-signs to move the action along was not only funny, but made the show feel modern – like the show had a plot-driven comments section.

Given the 14 member cast, everyone has a ton to do, and everyone does it well. Special mention must go to Damondre Green, who plays an absolutely electric cult leader and Kelcy Taylor and India Huy, who play Charity’s besties Nickie and Helene. Eldon Warner Soriano also plays a very convincing Italian movie star and Dustin Rothbart is a lovable nerd as Oscar.

The best moments were the ensemble dance numbers. It was impossible not to smile through the silly, rhythmic, absolutely-attitude-packed pieces. They all concluded to well-deserved, wild applause. Mirabelli’s Charity is a funny, self-deprecating clown who just wants to love, and has a capacity for optimism and a bright smile that is almost superhuman, but in a life punctuated by epic dance numbers, wouldn’t you be too? You won’t find a more fun evening than one spent with The Blank Theatre Company.

Highly Recommended

Reviewed by Alina C. Hevia

SWEET CHARITY runs May 9th – June 8th at The Greenhouse Theater Center, 2257 N Lincoln, Chicago, IL 60614 in Lincoln Park. Tickets range from $15-35. Additional information is available at www.blanktheatrecompany.org.

Additional information about this and other area productions can be found by visiting www.theatreinchicago.com.