Four middle-aged men stand in the bottom of a giant pool baring their souls (and their bodies) in a desperate attempt to win the affections of an etherial figure who watches from her plasma TV above, as if the sad display below were some sort of competitive reality TV show. If they fail in meeting their goal, the men will certainly face a gruesome fate at the hands of her returning lover — they know this because they’ve each seen it in a prophetic dream involving a smoldering barbecue.

What the heck is this? It’s Penelope – a curious new play by Irish playwright Edna Walsh. Read my full review at Chicago Like a Local >