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 >

***

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.

***

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.

***

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?

But first, a word of warning: Katy always offers a “shot word” for each weekly podcast, and this time it’s “phenomenal.” If you partake in this challenge, make sure you have a stomach pump nearby to overcome any potential alcohol poisoning.

Listen to the podcast now >

Also, for my final comment about the Chicago theatre artists who had the biggest year in 2011, I chose director/choreographer Brenda Didier, which is fine and well-deserved. However, if I were more prepared, I would have chosen Jackie Taylor, who opened the multi-million dollar Black Ensemble Theater facility at the end of the year. I’ve yet to visit it, but that’s a major achievement and a huge addition to Chicago’s theatre scene.

“Da-da-da-DUM! *snap, snap!* Da-da-da-DUM! *snap, snap!*”

You know the tune. You know the characters. But you might be surprised by this charming (yes, charming!) and unexpected musical based on the Charles Addams cartoons.

And, for those who caught the first iteration of the musical when it premiered at the Oriental in 2009 prior to its Broadway run, you might also be surprised how vastly the show, now in v3.0, has improved.

In that version, we had Nathan Lane and Bebe Neuwirth as morbid lovebirds Gomez and Morticia. Here, we get Douglas Sills and the supersexy Sara Gettelfinger. While they aren’t BIG STARS, they have excellent presence and palpable chemistry — the latter of which was missing greatly between Neuwirth and Lane. With Sills and Gettelfinger, you get the sense that they could easily ignite flames, where Neuwirth and Lane had the sexual compatibility of a kick line.

But it’s not just the casting of the leads that’s improved. Jerry Zacks, who serves as the show’s “creative consultant” (a fancy term for “show doctor”), has reworked many of the show’s conceptual problems — most notably removing the strange squid (and its bizzarro love story with Mr. Beineke) and, thankfully, eliminating the nonsensical ”Morticia feels unsexy because she feels old” subplot. (After all, wouldn’t Morticia be delighted to think her husband finds her old and decayed?) Instead, Morticia, who’s completely in command in this version, discovers Gomez is doing the one thing she considers a deal-breaker: he’s withholding a secret. The secret? Wednesday’s getting married.

Book writers Marshall Brickman and Rick Elice have chosen to translate The Addams Family for the stage through a classic storyline: Wednesday (Cortney Wolfson) has turned 18, and she’s in love with a seemingly normal boy, Lucas Beineke, from Ohio (Brian Justin Crum). When the buttoned-up Beinekes stop by for dinner, Wednesday begs her family to act “normal” for one night.

If the plot sounds familiar, it’s because it is — just go down the street to the Bank of America Theatre to see the gay-friendly version, which is playing through January 1.

Yes, this storyline is the same from the first iteration of the show. Yet it’s the tightening of the script and tinkering with the score that makes this version a much more satisfying affair. From the solid introduction (thanks to a clearer opening number by Andrew Lippa) to the ample use of those classic off-color zingers (“Do you have a little girls room?” asks Alice Beineke, to which Gomez replies, “We used to, but we sadly had to let them all go.”) it’s a fine, fun time. And, with the rewrites, this kooky clan spends less time apologizing for being who they are, and more time celebrating their quirks.

So: do the changes fix this flawed show? Well, I enjoyed myself, as did the enthusiastic audience, but the show still doesn’t seem to fully capitalize on the deliciously oddball source material. It’s a little too predictable, too pat, too wholesome. My ideal Addams Family musical would be unexpected, dark, dangerous, sly and sexy — with a heart.

But for now, I’ll gladly take The Addams Family, v3.0.

“The Addams Family” plays through January 1 at the Cadillac Palace Theatre. More info here >

Why, yes! It’s yet *another* top 10 list!

This year I was actually on top of shit and maintained an honest-to-god spreadsheet of all the shows I’ve seen in 2011. In total, I saw 104 plays and musicals — nearly all of them in Chicago. And next to each show, I listed an overall reaction point, ranging from 10 (balls-to-the-wall awesome) to 1 (slit-my-wrists-dear-god-make-it-stop awful). So, to start outlining my top ten, all I had to do was sort by the points column to get a glimpse at the very best stuff I’ve seen this year.

And it surprised me.

I had very few 10s. But a WHOLE SLEW of 9s. So, the challenge came into culling down the 9s to form a top ten. Furthermore, I’m not including touring shows or non-resident shows (such as Broadway in Chicago or visiting companies). If that were the case, en route, Being Harold Pinter and Black Watch would certainly be listed here.

I’m also a hopeless musical fan, so I fully realize my likes lean toward the showtunes inclined.

With that, here it goes — in order of preference (click on the show title to read my original review):

1) Follies. It’s rare thing when I revisit a show after opening night (especially when said show requires a mind-numbing trek to the obnoxious Navy Pier). But I did — two additional times, in fact (on my own dollar, including closing night) because I simply needed to soak in the brilliance before it vanished. It may sound super-gay, but I was so overcome by Gary Griffin’s heart-stopping production of this Stephen Sondheim/James Goldman masterpiece, I nearly forgot to breathe more than once (one of those times during Hollis Resnik’s searing “I’m Still Here”). I also had the luxury of seeing the current Broadway revival, and I can attest that this production more than holds its own to that mega million-dollar spectacle.

2) Merry We Roll Along. It takes a lot to get me up to Highland Park, but this is one of those shows I’ve been bitching about no one producing in the city, so when The Music Theatre Company announced they were staging this challenging Sondheim musical in their 100-seat venue, I felt it my duty to see it. And then I saw the cast list. Jessie Mueller (who’s currently stealing the spotlight from Harry Connick Jr. in the Broadway revival of On A Clear Day You Can See Forever) and Alan Schmuckler (who enjoyed a hit run in Murder for Two at Chicago Shakespeare Theater this summer)? Yes: this I had to see. And if I lived closer to Highland Park, I would have revisited this super intimate production (ingeniously directed by Jessica Redish) many, many times. I wish Sondheim could have seen it.

3) The Original Grease. I hate the movie Grease. Like, puke-in-my-mouth-a-bit-whenever-I-happen-to-flip-past-it-on-cable hate it. So, the fact that I not only didn’t puke upon seeing this “restored” version of the working-class musical, but LOVED it, speaks volumes. This gritty retelling of the coming-of-age story brimmed with hormones, insecurities, a raging desire to belong and attitude, attitude, attitude!

4) Festen. Steep Theatre’s production was like a punch in the gut. But a theatrically satisfying punch in the gut, if you can imagine such an abstract thing. Director Jonathan Berry’s smart staging magnified the power play between a son and a father as an explosive family secret gets detonated during a celebratory dinner. Amazing ensemble acting made this an unforgettable theatrical highlight for this theatre addict.

5) In The Next Room or The Vibrator Play. Sarah Ruhl’s play — which has the rare combination of being as equally entertaining as it is thought-provoking — has many provocative things to say about impact of electricity on society and sexual liberation. However, it was Kate Fry’s funny, complex and completely human performance as the buttoned-up Victorian housewife yearning to break free that made this show so memorable for me.

6) Putting it Together. If this smart and sophisticated production was any indication of what else is in store, I’m delighted to say it seems new artistic director Michael Webber has injected Porchlight with a much-needed point of view.

7) A Twist of Water. During the original run of Route 66 Theatre Company’s production at Theatre Wit, which I unfortunately missed, Twist was praised by critics and audiences, and even the Mayor Elect attended days after winning the seat. When a new play creates this much buzz, you have to take notice. And I’m so glad I was able to catch this bold and stunning new work, which perfectly set the tone for the re-opening of the Mercury Theater.

8) Eurydice. This is why I went the spreadsheet route this year. Because if I hadn’t, I’m certain I would have overlooked this subtle and magical production. My high “gut reaction” score immediately reminded me of the deep emotional response I had following Filament Theatre Ensemble’s loft-based production. Truly, a magical evening of theatre.

9) Chinglish. Through his smart observations of cultural differences impacting our rapidly changing business landscape, David Henry Hwang found the uncomfortable hilarity in the art of global negotiation in his latest play. Aside from the stellar acting under director Leigh Silverman, David Korins’ ingenious rotating and interlocking set design was a mind-puzzling star unto itself.

10) Five Lesbians Eating a Quiche. Why this show? Quite simply: I can’t recall the last time I’ve laughed so hard in the theatre. The New Colony offered much-needed release in their ridiculous and riotous ensemble-based comedy. I hope, much like their production of Frat, this gets a commercial production — and it includes the original brilliant cast (including the fierce Mary Hollis Inboden).

Honorable mention: The Madness of George III. Two words: Harry Groener. His blazing, Jeff Award-winning star turn elevated this entertaining, yet somewhat by-the-numbers, production into the stratosphere.

Related: read my top ten of 2010 >