5-23-08
Cromer Gets to the Heart of Our Town
I should admit up front that I am biased in favor of new work in the theatre. Generally speaking, I would rather see something I’ve never seen before rather than a remount of a play I know, no matter the skill of the presentation or the innovation of the directorial vision. As a result, I may not have enjoyed the work of The Hypocrites as much as many members of Chicago’s theatre community, even as I acknowledge their skill as a company. They’ve built their reputation on reworking established plays—sometimes classics, sometimes lesser known works—with strong, sometimes radical, conceptual approaches.
As it happens, that’s not what’s going on with their most recent production: Thornton Wilder’s Our Town. That may be partly because David Cromer helms the production, not artistic director Sean Graney. Many audience members will have seen Wilder’s best known play, generally in sepia-toned community theatre or high school productions. But playing Our Town as a tribute to small-town nostalgia completely neglects Wilder’s depiction of the relentless forward motion of time.
And Cromer captures that aspect of Wilder’s opus perfectly. He removes the small town trappings and, for the most part, the New Hampshire accents. Instead, by bringing the design into the modern era, and staging the piece in the round, he reminds us of the relevance of this small town to our own lives. Small town life at the turn of the 20th century is more similar to big city life at the turn of the 21st than it is different. Some odd tensions are created between the language and setting and the contemporary clothing, but they mostly fade away as the play goes along.
The performances are straightforward and honest, very different from the more stylistic choices The Hypocrites often make. John Byrnes and Tim Curtis as Dr. Gibbs and Mr. Webb, respectively, stand out. Jennifer Grace as Emily Webb and Rob Fagin as George occasionally push too hard, but generally find a nice energy. On the whole, the ensemble relaxes into the energy of their town, Cromer’s understated Stage Manager setting the tone.
If your only exposure to Our Town has been through one of innumerable amateur productions, it’s worth seeking out The Hypocrites’ production to see the script reach its potential. There’s a touch more irony, and the play ends a bit darker than you probably remember, but I don’t think Wilder would consider it a radical reworking. This is a smart take on an often misunderstood play.
Our Town, The Hypocrites
Chris Jones, Tribune—“I think Cromer’s brilliantly revisionist and generally astounding new production of Thornton Wilder’s Our Town at The Hypocrites is his masterwork to date… And it all takes place in a Wicker Park basement for 20 bucks a ticket. In the jaw-dropping third act, which makes some truly shocking and inspired conceptual choices that are best experienced without foreknowledge, I found myself speaking the words ‘Oh, my God’ to no one. And despite eccentricities, I’m not that given to inappropriate interjections. It’s just that this Our Town hit me that hard.”
Hedy Weiss, Sun-Times—“David Cromer has brought a true touch of genius to the Hypocrites’ new production of Our Town, which he has directed, and also stars in (with a wicked brilliance) as the Stage Manager. And in the black box environment of Chopin Theatre’s basement—with no decor but two sets of worn kitchen tables and chairs (until a profound and stunning moment of reversal in the play’s third act)—he has created a bond between the audience and his perambulating actors with such (seeming) effortlessness that they all become residents of the very average New Hampshire town of Grover’s Corners without even knowing it. Cromer has magic up his sleeve and it involves capturing the unbridled truth.”
Zac Thompson, Reader—“Thornton Wilder’s classic drama about life, love, and death in fictional Grover’s Corners, New Hampshire, has been overexposed, misinterpreted, and sentimentalized. Though the play is to some degree a celebration of small-town life, Wilder never glosses over the confusion and blindness of life in general. David Cromer’s production for the Hypocrites strips the play of the Norman Rockwell sheen it has acquired over the years without succumbing to the hip but fatal temptation of applying irony or cynicism. The modern-dress staging is as simple as Wilder wanted it, the acting guileless and tender.”
Valerie Jean Johnson, New City—“With such a long-standing culture familiarity, it’s difficult to imagine breathing new life into this old standard without pulling out some serious smoke and mirrors. That’s precisely why David Cromer’s staging for The Hypocrites is such a revelation: this intimate production, from a company known for turning classics on their head, stays true to Wilder’s stripped-down, bare-bones stage—relying on the talents of the fairly rock-solid ensemble to bring Grover’s Corners to life. What’s missing, thankfully, is any trace of the sometimes saccharine sentimentality that can make this play seem to last nearly as long as the lifespan it covers. On the contrary, the Hypocrites staging is urgent, honest and unflinching, played with an immediacy that cuts right to the heart of the matter”
Brian Nemtusak, Time Out—“Director Cromer—who also deftly plays the empathetic/dispassionate narrator—teases out muted, wistful notes, bringing things closer to the gently spectral style Wilder arguably intended than what you may’ve been conditioned to expect from this ‘nostalgic’ chestnut. Outside one audacious—and brilliant—bit of set-design excess, things hew close to the bare-bones staging the script dictates. Leads Grace and Fagin are winning without stooping to aw-shucks cuteness; but it’s Byrnes and Curtis, as their golden-lit fathers, who deliver the show’s signature performances.”
Web Behrens, Free Press—“[T]he play really is a gem, so it’s always a treat to find an open-eyed production like this one from the Hypocrites, currently running in the basement at the Chopin Theatre. Helmed by David Cromer, who also takes the key role of the omniscient Stage Manager, this particular Town clearly conveys the depth of Wilder’s wonderful script. Unfortunately, the awkward underground venue, combined with a staging that bisects the audience, often hampers Cromer’s vision. (If you attend, arrive early or you’ll get stuck seated behind a pillar.)”
Venus Zarris, Gay Chicago—“Director David Cromer masterfully crafts a production of this subtly powerful story of growing up, getting married and dying in a small town. It draws us in, as originally intended, with no bells and whistles but rather delivers the intense impact of the script with a cast that has an uncanny ability to access the truth of our human experience. This truth elicits a tenderhearted voyeurism, as we peer into very real emotional lives. David Cromer also performs the role of Stage Manager, acting as a narrator to the barebones depiction. He creates a brilliant matter of fact, unsentimental yet completely engaging atmosphere.”
Catey Sullivan, Windy City—“David Cromer has a profound, unusually acute understanding of the aching, eternal poetry of melancholia. As for the mordant, pitch-black humor that accompanies (and allows us to survive) such bottomless sorrow—he gets that also. It’s his deep comprehension of that duality and his ability to bring it into perfect diamond-sharp focus on stage that makes Cromer one of Chicago’s most gifted directors. In his brilliant, minimalist staging of Thornton Wilder’s Our Town, he strips Wilder’s well-worn chestnut clean of sentiment and schmaltz and reveals a fable of Darwinian brutality and vitality.”
Enchanted April, Circle Theatre
Mary Houlihan, Sun-Times—“There are moments when the play teeters on the edge of long-winded melodrama, but [director Bob] Knuth manages to bring it back to safety every time. Knuth also designed the wonderful Italian courtyard set ruled over by colorful flowers, brilliant sunshine and observant cook Constanza (Terri Lopez), who is not afraid to speak her mind even if it is in Italian and no one understands her. The four women (dressed in Suzanne Mann’s period-perfect designs) are the heart of the story. They are portrayed by actors who capture the idiosyncrasies of each diverse personality.”
Jack Helbig, Reader—“Matthew Barber’s adaptation of Elizabeth Von Arnim’s novel—about four Englishwomen on holiday in Italy in the 1920s—is sweet and graceful. Still, director Bob Knuth and his terrific cast deserve much of the credit for making it succeed so well here. The performances are subtle and moving, creating characters that are likable and sympathetic. More importantly, the production has an understated intensity that makes this simple, and at times predictable, story compelling. Darci Nalepa and Michelle Weissgerber are standouts as a depressed wife and a poor little rich girl.”
Lisa Buscani, Time Out—“Knuth’s production has its weaknesses: The dialects can be spotty, and the actors consistently miss opportunities to highlight their poignant yearning and grief to better shade the comedy. A scene in which Lotty and Rose confront their husbands simultaneously falls particularly flat. But the cast succeeds in demonstrating the restorative powers of time away; the characters are transformed by the local flora and fauna. The zaftig, cherubic [Patricia] Austin is charming; [Mary] Redmon does brisk work as the foursome’s resident battle-ax; and the brave Derek Czaplewski wrings laughs and avoids full-frontal nudity with the help of a generous hand towel.”
Mary Shen Barnidge, Windy City—“Brain fatigue is kept at bay, however, by such frivolous spectacle as carefree damsels flitting about in their nighties and a stuffy British gent caught infra dig by a capricious bathtub. This is in addition to Robert Knuth’s flower-festooned piazza, Suzanne Mann’s scrumptious gowns (in particular, the quasi-Leon Bakst neglig?es and fauvist-inspired shoes worn by the boho-chic Lady Caroline), and other commensurably capable tech-effects, all crowded into a too-small storefront space that can only reinforce support for Circle Theatre’s proposed new playhouse.”
Henry IV, Halcyon Theatre
Zac Thompson, Reader—“After a fall from his horse, an Italian nobleman claims he’s King Henry IV—the German one—and his friends and servants humor him by adopting medieval names and costumes. This being a Luigi Pirandello play, the central conflict is between illusion and reality; but where Pirandello makes that conflict unsettling and illuminating in other plays, his writing here is tedious and clumsy. Tony Adams’s production for Halcyon Theatre maintains an admirable energy throughout—most impressively in the notoriously dull first act—but its breakneck pacing comes at the expense of clarity.”
Lisa Buscani, Time Out—“As Henry, [James] Allen treads the fine line between sanity and madness, but his reliance on vocal volume to do so is wearing. [Petrucia] Finkler is hilariously dismissive as Henry’s lover Matilda, who browbeats her husband, Belcredi (the suitably pompous [Michael] Graham). [Scott Allen] Luke, as the secret counselor in charge of the fantasy actors, manages to bring an appealing naturalism to the 1922 script’s formality. Adams’s imaginative direction slips in hip-hop and doo-wop versions of the exposition, while Tony Bruno’s sound design is fittingly anachronistic—ditto Adams’s costume and set design. But all the energy and imagination in the world would not be enough to conquer the long, hard slog of the script.”
Brian Kirst, Free Press—“At times confusing and a bit too ponderous, this mounting of Henry IV ultimately reveals itself to be a passionate, well-articulated production. As director, Adams’ love for the material is evident from the beginning moments. He imbues the opening scenario with a contemporary musicality, giving modern audiences a leeway into the difficult material at hand. Adams also, with the artful aid of Patricia J. Murphy, structures costumes that signify both the sweepingly medieval and the constrained contemporary eras of clothing utilized in the production.”
Russian on the Side, Royal George Theatre
Chris Jones, Tribune—“[Mark] Nadler has developed a remarkable ability to keep a minimalist baseline in motion while simultaneously holding a full-frontal conversation with his audience. He can move in and out of a song—or, often, a fusion of songs—with dazzlingly articulate ease. At times, his body erupts across the top of his piano, a splayed victim of its owner’s enthusiasm. And not only does Nadler do nothing without a grandiose flourish, but he also basks in the copious amounts of applause his activities provoke like a grinning cat taking a bath in cream. All of this comes, at times, within inches of inducing a permanent headache. But, hey, the fine arts sorely need enthusiasts, and there’s no doubting Nadler’s sincerity nor the fullness of his skills.”
Hedy Weiss, Sun-Times—“About the fact that Mark Nadler is prodigiously talented there can be little argument. He is, by any measure, a one-man entertainment machine: A deft, self-accompanying pianist, a singer-song stylist of range and versatility, a musical arranger of enormous ingenuity, a clever comic writer, and a general wild man who moves with the sort of manic propulsion that recalls Danny Kaye… There also can be little argument about the fact that Nadler also is prodigiously flamboyant (often excessively, and needlessly so), as well as too visibly starved for audience affection. When Nadler is brilliant, he is explosively so, but he also can be his own worst enemy.”
Albert Williams, Reader—“New York cabaret star Mark Nadler is a master of the tongue-twisting patter song. He also possesses powerful piano chops, a robust baritone, and an antic wit. Saluting Russian music’s influence on American show tunes, he tosses off selections by the likes of Gershwin, Glinka, Scriabin, and Sondheim, while ruminating on topics ranging from his Jewish boyhood in pork-happy Iowa to Stalin’s campaign against ‘degenerate’ modern music. Among the highlights is a tender rendition of Frank Loesser’s “The Ugly Duckling,” enriched with swooning melodies from Swan Lake.”
Zac Thompson, Time Out—“Nadler’s infectious, energetic sense of adventure and cheerfully catty flamboyance almost make up for the muddy concept. They also help to atone for some outdated Borscht Belt gags and a raft of groaners. The gossip about the composers is irresistible, and when it comes to the most obscure ones, strangely touching. After all, it’s somehow comforting to know that if your talent doesn’t rescue you from oblivion, maybe the dish on you will. But ultimately the show is undone by the disconnect between Nadler’s lively lecture and the show tunes that punctuate it… Apart from some broad thematic similarities, we never get a clear sense of what Russian music has to do with Broadway.”
Web Behrens, Free Press—“There’s an interesting soft shoe going on at the Royal George mainstage right now. Well, two, really: Pianist/singer/comedian Mark Nadler delivers some soft-shoe while playing piano during his one-man show, Russian on the Side. It’s a clever bit, down to the details of the brightly colored Elvin shoes. But it also encapsulates, metaphorically, the bizarre balancing act going on with this production: Nadler, it seems, can do just about anything and somehow make it look effortless—yet he simultaneously seems to be trying too hard.”
Carla Gordon, Gay Chicago—“Nadler sings beautifully, moves like a gazelle, and he’s funny. He knocks out a vaudevillesque ‘sand dance’ while playing the piano. Singer/pianists face the challenge of becoming stuck behind the keyboard. Nadler overcomes this challenge in delightful ways: he stands on the piano, sits Indian style on the lid, and even slithers across it on his belly. While the frenetic Nadler generally sparkles, the show doesn’t always. It can border on the academic as it offers anecdotes on lesser known composers. There is some drag in the middle…And a few of us are disappointed that we really didn’t learn Ira’s lyrics to the song.”
Mary Shen Barnidge, Windy City—“Part Tom Lehrer, part Liberace, part Red Skelton, part (a large part) Danny Kaye, Nadler epitomizes the brand of entertainer known on the Catskills circuit as a “tummler”—a multi-talented clown whose purpose is to create tumult, whether engendered by verbal witticisms, physical gymnastics or old-fashioned sentimentality. Certainly, someone who can tap and shuffle with his feet while simultaneously massaging the ivories and warbling in triple-forte deserves some sort of award for sheer stuntwork. And if Nadler sometimes comes off like an overachieving schoolboy showing off for his mother’s clubfellows, no one can deny that he keeps his promise to send us home smarter than when we arrived.”
Quote of the Fortnight:
“And nowhere are such causes more celebrated than in grant-dependent nonprofit theater, where no martyr is ever turned away.”—Christopher Piatt reviewing The Goodman Theatre’s production of The Ballad of Emmett Till in Time Out.