>> The second annual Honor Awards, an alternative awards show celebrating the best of Chicago Theatre, has a date and time: February 28 at 8pm. Yours truly will be presenting a few of the honors. Location and other details are forthcoming — listen in to the next edition of Chicago Theatre Off Book this Friday for the inside scoop. And don’t forget, the second round of voting is still open, so cast your votes today.

>> Always wanted to learn how to become a lesbian? Well, you’re in luck! Rhode Island-based theatre artist Leigh Hendrix has a 10-step program just for you. Her show, How To Be A Lesbian in 10 Days or Less is a “hilarious coming out story and guide to gay for budding lesbians, no matter their sexual orientation.” Hurry, this opportunity begins and ends on February 23 at 8pm in Mary’s Attic, 5400 N Clark Street.

>> (re)discover theatre, a new company here in Chicago, is getting ready to debut its first production, Hamlet, at Live Bait Theater, running Feb. 16-25. Jessica Shoemaker, a production representative, explains, “(re)discover theatre’s goal is to adhere to the ideals of the classic playwrights — from Shakespeare to Chekhov to Beckett — while trying to rediscover the experience of these familiar characters. Within the context of our first production, we are using the text to find opportunities for new explorations, unearthing some surrealist elements, but we are not straying too far from the original manuscript. This is not Hamlet on the moon, but neither is it Hamlet in tights.”

Well said, Jessica, though I’d love to see a Hamlet on the moon someday. Meanwhile, the production photos look pretty swank:

There is one moment in William Osetek’s otherwise by-the-numbers production of Gypsy that gave me those rare theatrical chills. It’s during a crucial act two turning point when, moments before she’s to step onstage for her first strip, Louise (the ideally cast Andrea Prestinario) catches herself in the mirror. The lifelong tom boy and wallflower realizes she’s a “pretty girl, mama.” Thanks to the late Arthur Laurents’s writing, this is a brilliant scene by itself, yet tricky to pull off. Not only does he pull it off, Osetek has taken the moment a step further by having the wall with the mirror roll away to reveal Louise’s childhood counterpart staring at her from a ghostly spotlight.

It’s a subtle and unexpected moment that packs a wallop. There stands Louise, bidding farewell to her past. It’s a glimmer of the daring new production of Gypsy that might have been. But, then, the moment is cut short and we’re jerked back into a highly professional, yet mostly unexceptional, Gypsy.

Before I go any further, I must say that Gypsy is one of my all-time favorite musicals. I’ve seen several outstanding productions over the years, and own nearly every recording of the score — even the foreign language ones (the Mexico City cast recording is a marvel of misconception). So, any production of this classic American musical has a lot to live up to.

For most, Drury Lane’s Gypsy will more than suffice. It hits all the required marks and elicits a standing ovation. As for the powerhouse role of Rose, the square-jawed Klea Blackhurst, a New York-based singer/actress, does a decent job as the domineering stage mother who unwittingly pushes her daughters away in her monomaniacal quest to make them stars. Her Rose is driven without being crazy — she’s a very working class Rose who fully embodies the line “she’s a pioneer woman without a frontier.” Blackhurst’s act one and act two showstoppers are well sung, if a bit too nasal for my tastes. Overall, it’s a fine, regional theatre performance. (Adorable Chowsie, by the way.)

And what of that rollicking Jule Styne/Stephen Sondheim score? The pit band of around 10 players sounds thin, even for Drury Lane standards, but following a disappointing (and slightly truncated) overture, they get the job done and actually sound authentic to the third-rate vaudeville scenes that make up the bulk of the show.

The biggest achievement, however, is Martin Andrew’s set design, featuring a giant spinning proscenium that efficiently transitions between the offstage and onstage worlds in this showbiz inspired musical. I’ve seen some Gypsys get mired down in the numerous scene changes — not this production. The evening clips along at a nice pace, but, as a result, skims over the more complex emotional moments that separate a good Gypsy from a brilliant Gypsy.

“Gypsy” plays through March 25 at Drury Lane Oakbrook. More info here >

“Everyone’s a little bit racist,” sing the puppets of Avenue Q. Then there’s sh*t white girls say to black girls. And what about anything comedienne Lisa Lampanelli says? Racism, in all its forms, is such a force in our nation (as grody as that statement sounds) that, at times, we just have to, well, laugh at it.

But David Mamet isn’t laughing. In his lean, no-nonsense play, Race, he explores the notion of everyday racism — how the color of one’s skin causes us to make decisions and take action. Well, of course, you say — that’s how the world operates, like it or not. But Mamet has such things occurring amongst a team of lawyers, who, if anything, should be relying on fact and evidence, not personal bias.

Here’s the setup: A white, white-collar, middle aged man (Patrick Clear) has been accused of raping a young black woman. Claiming his innocence (“We were in love,” he pleads), he turns to the legal power duo of Henry and Jack (Geoffrey Owens and Marc Grapey, both excellent). Charles, the defendant, has chosen this team because Henry is black. What better way to defend yourself against charges of raping a black women then by having a black lawyer represent you? Henry isn’t having it, and Jack, the firm’s founding partner, sees dollar signs. Meanwhile, their diligent — and, it needs to be said considering the play’s subject matter, black — legal assistant Susan (Tamberla Perry in a strategically subtle performance) passively observes from the sidelines.

It’s annoyingly clear that Mamet wants to shake us up a bit. Jack freely acknowledges that race drives his decision making because that’s just the way it is — and it’s how a jury thinks. His lines (deftly delivered by Grapey) elicit guffaws and mumbles from the mostly white and well-to-do Goodman audience. Meanwhile, Henry is proud of his race but despises affirmative action. Gasp! Susan — well, without giving any spoilers away, we soon find out what Susan thinks. Let’s just say she may not be the naive neophyte we assumed she was. GASP!

The problem with Mamet’s play is we have actors representing key viewpoints pitted against each other in a carefully manipulated forensics argument. It’s all very neat and tidy, and to keep it vaguely interesting, new evidence emerges at the least expected moments, which makes it all quite expected. Then the power statement final line before the abrupt blackout which leads into instant audience applause.

While Goodman’s first rate production, under the direction of Chuck Smith, makes a strong plea, it’s a crime that Mamet’s writing lacks the wit and risk to make this a winning case. Or something.

To conclude, your honor, I’ve seen Law & Order episodes that are more engaging than this disappointing play.

“Race” plays through February 19 at the Goodman Theatre. More info here >

Spit-spot, cheerio and all that other rubbish. I’ve just arrived from London! While my primary purpose there was work-related, I carved out some time for a two shows. Lucky for me, the TKTS booth was just a five minute stroll from my hotel, so most of my theatre going decision making was based on what was left 30 minutes before the booth closed. Plus, I adore the musical Crazy for You, and anticipated it to be a sure-fire smile-maker (which I needed), and Ghost the Musical sounded like a potential Carrie-level disaster, so how could I miss that theatrical train wreck?

Boy, was I in for a surprise.

The West End revival of Crazy for You got its start at Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre — Britain’s only permanent professional outdoor theatre — in summer 2011. (This is the same venue where the upcoming New York production of Into the Woods, set to play Central Part’s Delacorte Theater as part of The Public Theater’s Summer 2012 programming, began.) From the success of the Regent’s Park production, Crazy For You transferred to West End’s Novello Theatre, which is where I caught it.

I’ve always heard that the West End doesn’t know how to do American musical comedy, and I never knew what that meant until I saw this production.

Talk about leaden.

From the God-awful American accents (show me one person from Nevada who pronounces it “Nah-vah-da”) to the strangely dour and overworked new dance arrangements to, most disappointingly, the hyperactive-yet-charmless choreography (more on that in a moment), this show is a chore. That’s not to say there weren’t moments of magic, mainly thanks to the strength of the material (Gerswhin’s toe-tapping tunes and Ken Ludwig’s snappy book), but they were few and far between.

For me, the main issue is the choreography. Susan Stroman marked her Broadway debut with this show, winning her first Tony award and moving on to major successes such as the revival of Showboat, Contact and the megahit The Producers. I saw the original production, with choreography by Stroman and directed by her late husband Mike Ockrent, in Toronto in the early ’90s. In 1999, PBS broadcast Papermill Playhouse’s production, which recreated Stroman and Ockrent’s work. Of course I taped it and committed Stroman’s sparkling choreography to memory. Here are a few scenes from that production:

Stephen Mear has choreographed the West End revival, which has shades of Stroman, but is mostly a lot of uninspired movement accompanied by a cacophony of new dance arrangements by Gareth Valentine. Where Stroman knew how to build a number to the point where the audience is left breathless, the only people who looked out of breath in this revival were the overworked dancers.

And then there were the sets. Brown, bland and unexciting. The final moments when the stage should be transformed into a Busby Berkeley-esque romantic finale looks about as transporting as a stroll down my back alley. While the performances from the two leads, Sean Palmer and Clare Foster as Bobby Child and Polly Baker respectively, were understatedly charming, they weren’t enough to revive this DOA revival.

Ghost the Musical has every potential to be a ridiculous disaster. I mean, it’s a musical based on that sappy 1990 movie about a dude who’s murdered (Patrick Swayze) and comes back in ghost form through a sassy black medium (Whoopi Goldberg) to save his grieving girlfriend (Demi Moore) from the same fate. Plus there’s that iconic clay pot making scene, which you’re probably already staging in your head, musical style — and it’s probably awful.

However, they’ve managed to rethink the movie for the stage, and, for the most part, it works. Yes, the plot is still rather trite and the clay pot scene does make an appearance (how could it not?), but the show has found its own theatrical language to tell the story — and it’s jaw-dropping.

Most of the kudos must go to the design team (which includes a lighting designer, a video and projection designer, a movement sequence coordinator and, for good measure, an illusionist) who’ve done wonders to make director Matthew Warchus’ highly technical vision come to life. I mean — it’s a marvel of a show to look at. I can’t recall a time when my mouth has sat agape for so long. I may have drooled on myself. Moving LED screens, onstage holograms (I think?), smoke that comes and goes on cue. Wow. It’s like being trapped in a third-dimensional world where virtual life and the afterlife are one in the same.

The rock-infused score (lyrics by Bruce Joel Rubin and music and lyrics by Dave Stewart and Glen Ballard — who’ve worked with the likes of Alanis Morisette and Eurythmics) has moments of melancholic beauty, but is mostly forgettable. And loud. There are also a few scenes that they’d be stupid not to cut/rethink for the upcoming Broadway production — including a tap-dancey, vaudeville number performed by some ghosts. Odd.

On the acting side, the show is a little wooden. Because it’s such a technical marvel, you get a sense the cast is trapped in the machinery of the piece and it’s more an exercise in hitting the marks rather than building an emotional arch. But that could also be due to the fact that the two leads I saw (the Demi and Patrick roles) had only a week to settle into their roles, as the original stars (Richard Fleeshman and Caissie Levy) have recently left the West End production to open the show on Broadway in March. Of course, the Whoopi role is designed to steal every scene she’s in, and the big voiced Sharon D. Clarke mines that opportunity with verve. And of course she gets her big, black lady number, and it, indeed, stops the show.

Pay grades, insurmountable credit card debt, recession, excessive consumerism, love. One of these things is not like the other. However, in Dennis Kelly’s efficient and horrific 90-minute play, he examines the danger of having all these themes play together, and the catastrophe that ensues.

As a shop-a-holic wife (Julia Siple) fills her emotional voids with stuff she can’t afford, we mentally “tsk.” As we watch her defeated, middle aged husband (Peter Moore) grovel for a middle-manager job from his prickly ex-girlfriend (Darci Nalepa), we wince. We recoil as a young, mousy professional reveals how horribly she’s been tormenting her coworkers at a job she detests. Everyone is drowning and we passively sit on the sidelines and observe.

This monologue driven play takes sharp turns with each new scene. In a bold move by Kelly, he gives away the emotional punch of the play in the show’s first 20 minutes during a perfectly paced monologue delivered by Moore. Other scenes grip with raw, real emotional power and deft writing. It’s a hard show to watch, and at times lacks the cohesion to make it really hit hard. Most disappointingly, the final, highly philosophical monologue, though expertly delivered by Siple, is a tad trite.

The topic is also quite timely. I’m part of a paycheck-to-paycheck generation: Get paid, pay bills, back to zero. And, as director Robin Witt explains in her director’s notes, when we do get an unexpected windfall, such as a tax reimbursement, we don’t know what to do with ourselves, so we spend it rather than invest or save. In fact, I’m typing this review on a Mac I bought with tax reimbursement dollars. The cloud of money and debt hangs over us, sobering us, haunting us.

As much as we try to pretend it doesn’t, money controls happiness. And lives.

“Love and Money” plays at Steep Theatre through February 25. More info here >

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You may notice when looking at my “CTA tracker” to the left that I’ve a long gap between shows in late January. That’s because I’ll be in London for work. While there, I’m going to attempt to squeeze in a show. What should I see? I hear Matilda is all the rage.

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Take a look at this comment thread in response to my Chicago Like a Local post discussing the shows I’m anticipating in the first few months of 2012. It got me thinking: what constitutes a revival when talking about Chicago theatre? When a theatre company does a tried-and-true play for the first time (i.e. Court doing Angels in America)? Or is it only a revival when a company recreates their production from a previous season (I’m thinking Hypocrite‘s remounting of Pirates of Penzance)? Does the word have any relevance? I’m interested to hear your thoughts.

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Finally, have you voted in The Honor Awards yet? Hurry: the first round of voting ends tomorrow, Jan. 20! Katy Walsh of Chicago Now’s The Fourth Walsh has assembled this list based on the 247 shows she saw last year. Also, an awards celebration is in the works for February, with more details to come in the next few days. Stay tuned!

As we take our seats at A Red Orchid Theatre’s production of Brett Neveu’s new play, Megacosm, a high-strung inventor (Larry Grimm) nervously twitches and blinks as he prepares for some sort of secret meeting. He has a new product that will change the face of the world as we know it (or so he claims), yet his pitch keeps hitting distracted ears as his potential customer, a blowhard business executive (Danny McCarthy), bolts around the boardroom like a caged rat.

After much hype, the audience eagerly awaits to see this product. And when it’s eventually revealed … well, let’s just say it makes stem cell research seem like child’s play.

Meanwhile, some sort of revolution’s happening outside. We know this because menacing explosions keep interrupting Neveu’s compact dialogue.

Neveu’s succinct play moves from entertaining to outlandish. His cutting commentary on the misdirected (read: deeply unethical) focus of corporate America is sidelined by a scene-stealing visual gag (I’m being intentionally vague here) that, for me, dilutes his point to meaninglessness.

While there are many wonderful one-liners and fine performances, what else does Neveu have to say about our consumer-driven lifestyle that hasn’t been said to death? I mean, its not even two months into the theatre season, and already I’m seeing three other shows on the subject (The Ghost is Here at DCA Theatre, Enron at TimeLine Theatre, Love and Money at Steep). If you’re going to shoot some fish, make sure the barrel is at least remarkable.

The audience seemed to enjoy themselves on opening night, but I think Neveu could take this featherweight piece even further. Or, as they’d say in corporate America, the product needs more R&D time.

“Megacosm” plays through February 26 at A Red Orchid Theatre. More info here >

Death is a scary thing, and scary things make us vulnerable. And as any salesperson will attest, a vulnerable person is the ideal customer. Just look at the funeral home business model: “What type of tribute do you want? Basic Package A, Super Package B, Delux Package C or Platinum Package D? Keep in mind, this is your one time to honor your loved one’s life.”

Guilt overcomes, and you’ve suddenly spent a fortune on a party for a body. Thank goodness for life insurance (ha). To me, it’s a racket. I’ve told people when I die, I want to be cremated with a simple party in someone’s home. That’s it.

But this isn’t about me. It’s about this curious play I saw called The Ghost is Here. Written in 1957 by Japanese playwright Kōbō Abe (translated by Donald Keene) and receiving its U.S. premiere at DCA’s Storefront Theatre presented by Vitalist Theatre, it’s a highly stylized, nearly farcical look at how modern society capitalizes on the fear of the unknown (read: death).

Set in a post-World War II Japan, The Ghost is Here follows Oba Sankichi (Jamie Vann), a dyed-in-the-wool flimflam artist who’s always on the lookout for the quickest way to earn a yen. When he meets Fukagawa (Edgar Miguel Sanchez), a haunted young man who sees and speaks to dead people, his newest scheme is hatched: Desperate villagers will sell him photos of their dead loved ones, and when seller’s remorse sets in, Oba charges them exorbitant amounts for them to buy their photos back. Fukagawa’s spiritual connection not only gives Oba credibility, but helps drive up the guilt tax.

It’s a sure-fire scheme that gains momentum, spreading into merchandise (“Ghost Cloths!”), speaking engagements and arranged marriages. But when your entire business model is founded on guilt, fear and air, it’s destined to come crashing down. Right? Think again.

Jaclynn Jutting directs this challenging piece with fluidity and style, but hasn’t settled on a tonal focus. As a result, the refreshingly diverse cast seems uncomfortable with the nearly Brechtian text and intermittent musical passages (Kevin O’Donnell has set Abe’s lyrics to some hauntingly simple tunes). A sense of hesitancy overshadows most of the evening, particularly during scenes where the money men frantically plot to keep the ghost alive and their pocketbooks full. Maybe after a few performances the show will find its footing and the satire will sting (and sing) as it should.

Also, by the end of the play’s 2.5 hours, Abe has made his point many times over. It moves from insightful to sigh-ful very quickly. We know where it’s going well before it gets there, and a last minute revelation is welcome but predictable. But with Craig Choma’s novel and multi-functional set design, Lee Fiskness’s evocative lighting work Rachel M Sypniewski’s thoughtful costuming, it sure is pretty to look at.

“The Ghost is Here” plays through February 19 at DCA’s Storefront Theatre. More info here >

The freakish 50 degree January weather may be over, but things are just getting heated up at the Bank of America Theatre where Come Fly Away is playing through January 22.

Sinatra. We know that voice. It’s sexy, confident and masculine. After hours bars, cigars and tumblers of scotch. Romance, heartbreak and overcoming obstacles with charm and wry self-awareness. At least, that’s what I think of when I think of ol’ blue eyes.

World-renowned choreographer Twyla Tharp has created and choreographed this 80-minute “dansicle” inspired by this legendary crooner’s swanky style. Of course, his music is the heart and soul of this show, and they’ve managed to extract his vocals from various recordings to have them accompanied by a swinging onstage band, heavy on brass and sax. That alone is a remarkable achievement.

Then there’s the dancing. Read more at Chicago Like a Local >

And the twittersphere has been blowing up with casting ideas. After all, for my generation, ITW is one of those beloved shows that we either grew up with or performed in high school, or both.

Personally, I’ll believe it when I see it. Hasn’t ITW been in the Hollywood potboiler before? Like in the late ’90s or thereabouts? Actually, yes: I just found my notes from when Sondheim spoke at the Harris theatre in 2010: “[Sondheim] revealed that a movie version of Into the Woods was in development many years ago, combining puppets by Jim Henson with live actors.”

(More info about this first movie version is covered in a recent Playbill.com article.)

Yup, I recall when this news broke and the internetz were abuzz with rumor and casting ideas. (And I still think the Muppet idea is rock solid.) Yet, like many other musical movie projects, it was abandoned.

This Hollywood Reporter announcement seems all too familiar.

But maybe this time, with Disney money behind it, Marshall’s ITW film will actually become a reality? However, I’m not sure if he’s the best director for this project (I’d be interested to see what someone like Tim Burton could do with the material — or, again, maybe not), and Lapine did some silly things with the book when he tweaked it for the 2002 Broadway revival, so I’m not sure if he’s the right guy to adapt his own material.

At any rate, let’s just skip to my Hollywood casting conjecture (which is a bit tongue-in-cheek as it reflects my disdain for Hollywood mucking up musicals):

Baker: Paul Giamatti (or Depp)
Baker’s Wife: Kristen Wiig
Witch: Catherine Zeta-Jones (or, you know, Gaga)
Cinderella: Taylor Swift
Little Red: Some newname
Jack: Bieber
Milky White: A Kardashian (here’s the dream casting)
Cinderella’s Prince: Taylor Lautner
Rapunzel’s Prince: Who really cares?
Cinderella’s Stepmother: Miss Piggy
Stepsisters: Olsen twins

What’s your dream casting?