A Beautiful Spell - Recommended

It had to happen. I managed to see two plays - penned by different playwrights, performed by different actors and produced in different venues - that bear such a strong resemblance to each other that comparisons are, for me, nearly impossible to avoid. Therefore, I'll postpone the comparison until the end of this entry.

A Beautiful Spell, from the pen of Greg Kalleres and presented at the Royal George Theatre, starts with the disquieting premise that one can awaken in the middle of the night with a terror sufficient to turn your world upside down. In this case, the terror is Franny's, who has the shattering experience of discovering she no longer loves her husband of nine years, Jim.

It's a rather intellectual premise that quickly gains solid footing under the talented performances of Maggie Corbett and Eric Burgher. The writing is both believable and fluid, making the several round trips necessary between angst and humor that are necessary for a story of this sort. The staging is in the round, so that the audience is close to this intimate struggle in every sense. And the set - the couple's bedroom - is for the most part very well executed, although the use of plastic for the windows was a distraction that could have been avoided without (it would seem) much additional expense.

The story itself seemed a little long, since the revelations that come don't deepen our understanding of the characters significantly, and so some of the middle section started to get repetitive. This was offset, though, by Mr. Kalleres' comedic talents and the vigor of the performances.

The question in stories like this is how they will be resolved, and I will not give away the ending. However, the penultimate moment is quite stirring, and the closing in good counterpoint to it.

So, why only "Recommended?" Here's where the comparison starts to rear its head, but I will nonetheless attempt to remain objective.

Basically, the story lacked an "edge." It raised the question of Tevye and Golde - if being married for all these years isn't love, what is? - in a way that was, for me, just a shade too intellectual. The presumed insecurities which kept the banter going made it seem too often more like curiosity than soul searching. The premise opened a door to darker passages, but no one ever really stepped through them.

The other play? "50 Words," which was presented at Profiles Theatre with almost identical staging, premise and setting (two parents of a young boy who discover their marital problems, set in the kitchen rather than the bedroom). That was a darker, edgier, bawdier, and far more difficult play. Were it in production, I would have no problem recommending which to choose. But, if you're looking for a less troubling, well-acted and written exchange between a young couple discovering that marriage ain't all it's cracked up to be, your time and money would be well spent at "A Beautiful Spell."

The Front Page - Highly Recommended

I am now officially a fan of the TimeLine Theatre. Their staging of Ben Hecht's and Charles MacArthur's "The Front Page" was gritty, intelligent, funny, challenging, and clever. The acting was top-shelf, the set (in the round) was stunning and engaging, and - in short - this production represents the best of what theater has to offer - not just local theater, but Theater.

As if that weren't enough, the wealth of educational materials - both in the lobby and online - draws one even further into the story and its historical roots. Again, kudos to TimeLine!

"A Front Page" is a challenging play to mount: I know a little bit about this, as I had the good fortune to be a "fly on the wall" on an excellent college production a half-dozen years ago. The pacing is frenetic; dialogue is constantly overlapping; and the topics - the ethics of news and politics, capital punishment, racism, misogyny - are serious. Many subsequent reworkings of the play (such as the Howard Hawks film "His Girl Friday") discard the darker side to emphasize the comedic strengths of the work, but this production is ample proof that such guttings do a great disservice to the playwrights.

For those unaware of the basics, it is the eve of Earl Williams' execution for murdering a "colored" policeman, and all the action takes place in the press room, where reporters from eight different Chicago newspapers first fend off boredom and then attempt to cope with the chaos that ensues when plans for the execution go awry. The other line of tension comes from the imminent departure of star reporter Hildy Johnson, who is about to be married and is leaving to take an advertising job in New York.

All the corruption for which Chicago is rightly or wrongly famous is exposed in this bit of historical fiction, which is broadly based on real newspapers, characters and events, but is clearly more fiction than fact.

The choice of presenting this in the round is inspired; having seen it in this form, I can't imagine a traditional approach working anywhere near as well. The acting is flawless, and the technical challenges of entries, exits, phones ringing and gallows falling are overcome in what seems to be an effortless manner. The pathos of Molly, Earl and even to some extent Mrs. Schlosser are well-defined.

I would say more about the play, but I fear it would amount to simple gushing. This is a production that has it all: run quickly to the TimeLine and see this before its last show on June 17!

Middletown - Somewhat Recommended

Full disclosure: following seeing Middletown, a recent play by Will Eno staged at the Steppenwolf, I sat in on a brief discussion session led by the Assistant Dramaturg. In trying to isolate the impact of that provocative discussion, I believe my opinion of the play was briefly raised and then, post-discussion, lowered.

Middletown is two-act play with a unique middle that is, in many ways and in all its parts, too clever for its own britches. A cerebral pastiche of wry, intellectual humor adorns the first act, treating the audience to many good laughs and plenty of assaults on the fourth wall. Even the typical "here are the exits" monologue is clever, funny, and oddly out of place.

Throughout the first act, a darkness is hinted at - in particular, the darkness of isolation and loneliness - amidst the rollicking humor. At its most extreme, a violent encounter between the Cop and the Mechanic seems poised to open up a truly dark, festering world beneath, but that promise (like many others) is never fully realized. Rather, it is more like (as one of my intrepid colleagues suggested) a Seinfeld episode where nothing ever happens, but without the attachment to the characters that that show engendered.

The second act steps off the light-hearted cliff and takes us down into a world that is still unpredictable, where the characters largely don't matter, but where the humor is less frequent and the isolation more profound. Even there, though, there is not enough darkness to engage us: just enough to leave us tasting loneliness, seeing it all around us, without enough hope to lift us up or enough terror to get us to rebel.

It is, ultimately, a profoundly lonely play without any discernible hope or purpose.

Technically, the set is sparse and clever, matching the text of the play. The direction is a conundrum to me: the first act seemed much "flatter" to me than the second, but I remain uncertain as to whether that was the staging, the acting, the material or just an off night. I doubt the last two, as the audience seemed to react well to the humor, but again - it's a mystery.

So why do I recommend this play at all?

The writing in the first act is genuinely superior, and executed (by and large) quite well. The pseudo-opening and pseudo-intermission are quite clever, and therefore at least half the play is intriguing, entertaining, and plays with conventions in a manner that is often surprising. And, as a result of the dramaturg's knowledge and enthusiasm, I see that there are more tropes and depth to the play that are worthy of discovery and discussion.

Armed with a half-priced ticket, I'd say it's well worth the investment of time and money. But be prepared for the drain on your emotions.

The Last Act of Lilka Kadison - Recommended

Sometimes familiar stories work because we know them and their telling so well, and we draw comfort from the predictable terrain. Sometimes familiar stories work because the teller adds a twist, and it is that difference that catches us up. And sometimes familiar stories work because they are told in a different way, and that telling brings a new delight to the story.

"The Last Act of Lilka Kadison," on extended run at the Lookingglass Theatre, benefits mostly from the latter of these. The story - of a Holocaust survivor's coming to terms with the past she has buried - is a familiar tale of angst and redemption. Which is not to demean the tale: it is inventively told, and despite (or because?!) of the familiar terrain, it easily brought tears to my eyes more than once during the nicely-paced 90 minutes. But that's not the reason to see this play.

What makes this production well-worth attending is the imaginative production: the use "toy theater" in both the micro and the macro to invite the audience to allow themselves to be drawn into the machinations of plot and set, and perhaps to imagine that they are part of an even larger "toy theater" - as actors and directors. Perhaps we can change our worlds by moving a few memories and assumptions around: allowing the hidden to be revealed, or the obvious obstacles to be finally discarded.

The set is frankly remarkable. At every turn, a new entrance or exit appears, and the intricate crafting of dialogue and action to bring it all together is inspiring. In Chance Bone's capable hands as Ben Ari Adler, the storytelling ghost, we forgive the mechanics and laugh - and cry - when cued.

There are a few missteps here, but many fewer than one would expect from a script crafted by five individuals. The use of modern vernacular in the "old days" of Poland was jarring and really unnecessary (e.g., what was gained by referring to the traveling troupe's next "gig"?). And the development of the young Lilka Kadison, played by Nora Fiffer - really didn't hold up: to go from frightened, observant maiden to feminist to her final youthful development may have been factual, but it wasn't "true" in the way the story was presented.

Nevertheless, these are not serious flaws: the story is solidly told, with well-timed and well-proportioned dashes of pathos and humor. It does not soar to new heights, but then again, that is not what we look for - usually - in the telling of a familiar story. So go ahead: revel in the magic that Lookingglass Theatre seems to be so adept at providing, and hear a familiar tale one more time. And maybe you'll find it's time to move around some of that lingering "baggage" that has crept into your life over so many years...