A bomb scientist, working for a deeply underground division of the US military, is struggling to put the pieces together from his fractured life. His latest experiment hasn’t gone exactly to plan, and the collateral damage is more than he can reconcile. His wife and daughter have gone missing … or have they abandoned him? Or has he abandoned them?

BINGO! (?)

Merri Biechler’s decidedly fragmented play, Bombs, Babes and Bingo, asks a lot of the audience. Each night the show is different because bingo balls drawn at random (as is usually the case when drawing bingo balls) determine the order of events. (BTW: if you guess the play’s order, you could win $100!) So, you are left with a grab bag of smartly written scenes — some just flashes of a moment and some compellingly constructed vignettes — that require you to put the pieces together to tell a cohesive story about how this man’s unconventional and dysfunctional life has detonated in front of him.

I know for me it took about two-thirds of the way into this 70 minute show before I had my “a-ha!” moment, and figured out where all of it was going (and how all the preceding pieces fit together).

The play’s unique construction certainly elevates the concept of deliberate chaos that, I’m assuming, bomb scientists grapple with. And Mortar Theatre’s four-person cast (Richard Perez, Stephanie Stroud, Erica Cruz Hernandez and Megan Tabaque), under the direction of Rachel Edward Harvith, commits to the challenge with gritty determination. However, the concept, while intriguing on paper, needs more risk. I craved chaos — a “choose your own adventure” play, as it were, where some stories are left untold. Would could have been? Here, we get the full play, just jumbled up. While this proves a great challenge for the lighting and projection designs (which are both remarkably achieved by John Kelly and Michelle Underwood, respectively), for the audience, we’re more concerned with connecting the pieces than connecting with the story. At least this was my experience.

At any rate, I’ve never seen anything quite like Bombs, Babes and Bingo, and the boundary-pushing Mortar continues to demonstrate why they are a force to be reckoned with in the Chicago theatre scene.

“Bombs, Babes and Bingo” plays through June 17 at Luna Central, 3914 N. Clark Ave., Chicago, IL More info here >

Bang the Drum Slowly is one of those rare plays that will appeal to a wide range. (Ahem: pardon me while I make sweeping and offensive generalizations.) Men will appreciate the references to baseball, teamwork and perseverance while women (and gays) will respond to the themes of friendship, loyalty and men in towels.

It also helps that Raven Theatre’s production, under Michael Menendian’s direction, is pretty much a home run.

Eric Simonson’s play, based on the book of the same name by Mark Harris, tells the story of a 1950s baseball season with the New York Mammoths (a fictional team based on the New York Yankees). The ramshackle group struggles to make the season a winner, but little do they know that gangly country boy Bruce Pearson, the team’s catcher, is harboring a devastating secret. He’s been diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Disease, and the only person he confides in is star pitcher Henry “Author” Wiggen (Michael Stegall, showing off his All-American Colgate smile at every opportunity). A fiercely loyal friend, Wiggen keeps the secret close to his vest and also looks out for his buddy by negotiating a clause in his contract that states if Wiggen goes, Pearson goes, and vice versa.

As Pearson, Kevin Duvall conveys simple charm and earnest sincerity. You wonder how he even made it on the team in the first place as his talent seems more around perfecting an “aww shucks” demeanor than anything concerning a baseball. But that makes you root harder for him.

Simonson’s script isn’t revelatory or even remarkable. It’s simply a straightforward story of a group of guys looking out for each other and rallying together when times get tough. The ending does feel a bit pat, leaving you wishing for a bit more insight into the smooth-talking Wiggen. We never seem to get past his American hero veneer. In fact, the only character who undergoes any notable evolution over the course of the play is “old timer” team member “Goose” Williams (Joshua J. Volkers) who reveals a compassionate side under the blowhard exterior. Otherwise, everyone else in this 15 person testosterone-heavy cast seems rattled for a scene or two, but quickly moves on after the inevitable strikes.

I guess there’s no crying in baseball.

But Raven’s crowd-pleasing production is first-rate and a perfect summer date-night show.

“Bang the Drum Slowly” plays through June 30 at Raven Theatre. More info here >

It’s been said that English plays are all about class, while American plays are about property. Well, that’s certainly the case in Patrick Marber’s 1995 play After Miss Julie, which takes August Strindberg’s late 19th century play, Miss Julie, and pulls into 1945 England — specifically the evening when the British Labour Party defeated the conservative incumbents.

In Marber’s retelling, two servants — a chauffeur John (Robert Tobin) and a cook Christine (Morgan Manasa) — are winding down in the kitchen after a particularly busy day catering to their highly demanding masters — a wealthy political family — and preparing for that evening’s festivities. The family’s petulant daughter, Miss Julie (Mary-Kate Arnold), stumbles in and demands that John accompanies her to the celebration. Despite John being engaged to (engage) Christine, he acquiesces, and soon discovers that Miss Julie expects and demands more than a dance partner. After all, a servant knows their place.

Marber’s explosive and darkly satiric 70-minute play, which is receiving its Chicago premiere by the brand-new Focal Point Theatre Company, explores the power-shift between classes and the degree one will go in sacrificing one’s dignity to adhere to archaic social constructs. Things start slow, but soon boil over into chaos and disorientation as John begins to confront Miss Julie about her fascination with him.

Who controls whom? Marber’s insanely tricky play demands artists who can navigate the numerous and seemingly random shifts in power perspective. I mean, one minute John is one thrust away from raping Miss Julie on the kitchen table, and the next Miss Julie is demanding John kisses her shoes — and he does. Tobin and Arnold, under Melissa Albertario’s direction, hit the high emotional notes with theatrical fireworks and fearlessness, but haven’t yet fully connected the dots between power-shifts. There comes a point when you’re not sure how much further they can take it before the evening dissolves into farce. Luckily, Manasa’s carefully underplayed effort grounds the evening and reminds us of the power of knowing when to make an exit.

Still, this is a bold and respectful effort by Focal Point Theatre Company, and I very much look forward to seeing what this new group has in store.

“After Miss Julie” plays through June 10 at Piccolo Theatre, 600 Main Street, Evanston, Il. More info here >;

There’s something magical happening up in Glencoe, Ill. It’s a sparkling new production of Stephen Sondheim and Hugh Wheeler’s 1973 musical, A Little Night Music — a sophisticated, romantic comedy set in 20th century Sweden about mismatched pairs who, through a mix of fate peppered with manipulation, waltz into the arms of their ideal lovers.

One of my most cherished theatrical memories is a 2002 production of Night Music at Chicago Shakespeare Theatre, directed by Gary Griffin. Everything about it was glorious (including Barbara Robertson’s earthy Desiree) and I felt it couldn’t be topped — until I saw Writers’ Theatre’s production a few days ago, directed by William Brown.

This production, though much smaller in scale than ChiShakes’, succeeds so well mainly due to one very important thing: superb casting.

The captivating Shannon Cochran, who recently tore up the stage as the frustrated daughter in the first national tour of August Osage County, strikes the perfect balance of drama, deviousness and self-depreciation as perpetually touring actress Desiree Armfeldt. This is a woman who drinks beer in her dressing room, isn’t afraid to laugh at herself and knows how to charm her way out of any situation. But then Frederik Egerman (the perfectly cast Jonathan Weir), an old flame, reenters her life, and she comes to the realization that she’s, perhaps, ready to reevaluate her “glamorous life” and settle down. Meanwhile, Frederik’s (much) younger wife, Anne (Kristen French, doing great things with a typically shrill role) devises a scheme to reclaim her husband with the manipulative Countess Charlotte Malcolm (Tiffany Scott, who seems born to deliver droll line readings). And the Countess is only doing so to win back her husband, the hot-headed Count Carl-Magnus (the robust of body yet thin of voice Brandon Dahlquist), who’s affairing round with Desiree. Read the full review at The Huffington Post >

America – that shining land of opportunity. I know I take my freedoms for granted. They’ve just always been there, and it’s hard to imagine life without them. However, in Debra Ehrhardt’s semi-autobiographical one woman play, Jamaica, Farewell, she reminds us that we have it pretty damn good. And for a young girl growing up in a third world, highly volatile country who’s looking at us from the outside in, there’s no risk too great to experience such freedoms.

Ehrhardt is a charming, straightforward performer who easily slips between her wide-eyed childhood self to her no-nonsense mother to her deadbeat alcoholic father, as well as other colorful characters on her path to freedom from ravaged 1970s Kingston, Jamaica. She certainly knows how to spin a tale using both humor and pathos, and the dramatic stakes get higher as, after several false starts and dead ends, she latches onto a risky and nearly life-threatening opportunity involving a bag of money and a man named “Bullet” to make it to America. I’d be interested to know how much of it is true vs. teased up for dramatic purposes, but I was engaged throughout, and it all felt honest, so that’s what really matters.

That said, the play has many rough edges. Sound and music cues are thrown in like afterthoughts, and the stage features a giant, white video screen that’s only used at the very end to project the American flag. A wasted opportunity to complement her compelling story with arresting visuals of her homeland and perhaps the actual people in her story. The ending also feels jarring. Yes, she got to America, but what did she learn? A summary of “where are they now” for the characters in her story is fine, but I want to know where Debra is now — was America all she dreamed of?

“Jamaica, Farewell” plays through May 27 at Chopin Theatre. More info here >;

(My friend Jamie and I argued if we saw her in The Three Musketeers musical at Chicago Shakespeare Theatre back in 2007 or if if we actually saw her sister Abby, and we were actually both right: Abby played the lead love interest, while Jessie was in the chorus.)

Well, after her breakout role in the flop revival/revisal of On a Clear Day You Can See Forever, Ms. Mueller has been nominated for a Best Supporting Actress in a Musical Tony Award. Yes, her career seems to be taking off. And good for her — she’s a marval. Next up: the highly anticipated production of Into the Woods at the Delacorte Theatre in New York’s Central Park (Mueller’s playing Cinderella opposite fancies like Amy Adams as the Baker’s Wife and Donna Murphy as The Witch).

Plus, you know you’ve really made it when you’ve been featured in Broadway.com’s “Show People” segment:

Notice how Broadway.com Editor-in-Chief Paul Wontorek seems lost as to what types of questions to ask someone with only one Broadway credit. It’s hard not to feel that he treats her Chicago work like one would refer to the roles you played in high school.

So, this leads to the question: is a stage actor’s career only relevant if they make it big on Broadway? Let’s turn to what the refreshingly candid Adrian Aguilar (who’s rocking it out in Porchlight’s Tick, Tick… Boom) had to say in a recent Time Out Chicago interview:

What is your reaction then to comments that you’re Broadway bound or that you’re getting too big for Chicago?

You know what, I’ve got a bone to pick with those comments! I’ve read a few things, and I’m not trying to personally attack anyone, but this is something I’m really tired of seeing and hearing. It seems that there’s this trend, that every time there’s an amazing show, or a person—the Mueller girls or something like them—every time there’s someone that’s standing out and really shining, the theater community in Chicago, the critics and reviewers, their general statement is “this thing is so good, it should not be here.” And I hate that! We’re not supposed to be perpetuating this stereotype that New York is better than Chicago. Is New York bigger than Chicago? Absolutely. Is there a lot more money there than in Chicago? Absolutely. But there are great shows there, there are great shows here. And there are horrible shows there, and horrible shows here.

What do you think?

It’s a Jonathan Larson summer in Chicago. Currently, the genre-defining musical theatre composer is receiving productions of his two major shows by a trio of distinguished local theatre companies.

Tick, Tick… Boom!, which is essentially the precursor to Rent, is a largely autobiographical musical about the late composer’s artistic struggles as he begins to ease into his rock-meets-musical-theatre sound. Porchlight Music Theatre’s superbly pitched production captures Larson’s artistic valley just before he entered the highest peak of his tragically short career (Larson died of a rare, misdiagnosed heart disorder in 1996 just before Rent’s first major production Off-Broadway).

As “Jon” (the Larson stand-in), we have the immensely talented Adrian Aguilar who holds this fragmented show together with charisma, humanity and killer vocals. As his best friend and former fellow artist, Bear Bellinger (what a name!) melts our hearts with his earnestness and golden voice. And Jenny Guse is tasked with playing the various female roles, including Jon’s mis-matched love interest.

Director Adam Pelty keeps things simple, but also has done the smart thing by partnering with Anna Henson and Rasean Davonte Johnson to develop a series of eye-popping projections that powerfully punctuate the story. Together, this team drives home the tragedy of losing a talent at his prime through a simple yet powerful framing device. Stunning stuff.

Boom and Rent carry many similar themes, chief among them the struggle to find one’s way without compromising one’s internal ambition. So, it makes total sense to see Rent following Boom. Unfortunately, About Face Theatre and American Theater Company’s co-production is lacking in some core ways. Read the rest of this review at The Huffington Post >

Chicago truly is an amazing theatre town — especially now, where we have two epic plays receiving landmark productions, and I’ve been lucky to see both of them. Following the seven hour Angels in America at Court Theatre this weekend, I took in Goodman Theatre’s highly anticipated The Iceman Cometh, which clocks in at just under five hours. Yes, with just two productions in the past week I’ve spent more than a half day in a theatre seat.

And, because competitions are fun, if I were to pit these epics against each together, I’d say Iceman slides ahead by a sliver — mainly because Iceman‘s production grabs you by the throat and never lets go.

True, Angels may leave you empowered and ready to face life with rekindled fearlessness while Iceman makes you question if your life is a big delusional sham. But Euqene O’Neill’s writing is so specific, uncompromising and sobering, such personal introspection is why we go to the theatre in the first place, right? Read the full review at The Huffington Post >

The cliffhanger that concludes the first half of Tony Kushner’s epic Angels in America is designed to stun. It’s the moment when the angel — an earth-shattering vision or a violent fever dream, or both — crashes through Prior Walter’s bedroom ceiling to deliver a prophetic message.

However, in Court Theatre’s glorious yet frustratingly uneven production, the angel appears (following a momentum-killing blackout) dangling precariously above Walter’s bed. While actress Mary Beth Fisher delivers her lines with the requisite grand imperiousness, something’s missing. And then it hits me.

This angel doesn’t have wings. Read the full review on The Huffington Post >

There’s a rock revolution going on, and should you choose to attend, you’ve automatically become an unwitting member of The Numberless.

Who are The Numberless, you ask? Why, they’re the forgotten children who’ve been living underground out of sight from the government for the past five decades, and now they’re gearing up to tell their story and rally support for a mass revolt.

You see, 50 years ago, in an effort to control overpopulation, Congress passed a law prohibiting families from having more than one child, and the child they did have was injected with an implant (or a “Number”) to track them. Those families who did have more than one child would scuttle them away into an underground secret society called, appropriately enough, The Numberless. And today, they are ready to break above ground and tell their side of the story by means of a punk rock pageant play called Rise of the Numberless. Read the full review on The Huffington Post >