7-18-08
Rappin' Shakespeare at a Good, Fun Pace
I think the assertion that William Shakespeare—if he lived today—would be drawn to rap is a dubious one. The rhyming patterns in rap music are far more limited than anything he was working with 400-odd years ago. But there’s no doubt that there’s resonance between contemporary rhythms and Shakespeare’s iambic pentameter.
That resonance makes up the creative landscape that The Q Brothers occupy. Their first show, The Bomb-itty of Errors, basically seized on the storyline of The Comedy of Errors as a framework for a high energy, schtick-filled modernized ad-rap-tation (to use their somewhat cutesy term).
With their latest offering, Funk It Up About Nothin’, they’ve essentially gone back to the same formula, but with more polish and technical support than they had at the Royal George. Based on the comments from the audience members around me, I suspect most of them weren’t familiar with Much Ado About Nothing. But The Q Brothers keep the story clear and easy to follow. And, based on my recollection of Bombitty, they actually use more of the source material this go-round. If things went on any longer, the repetitive rhythms might start to grate, but at a tidy 75 minutes, Funk It Up… keeps things moving and the audience laughing. There are a few cheap gags—the gay cop in aquamarine hot pants for instance (think Jonesy meets Dangle for you Reno 911 fans)—but most of the humor comes straight out of the story.
Not everything works equally well. GQ’s Don John is a clad-in-black blast, but his Dingleberry doesn’t work as well as you’d expect. But, unlike Bombitty, this cast features women playing women, which is a nice development. And Ericka Ratcliffe, especially, fits right in.
Frankly, there’s no point in getting too highbrow about analyzing Funk It Up… It’s a simple fun time. And if it makes some audience members interested in seeing an actual Shakespeare play, then all to the good.
Funk It Up About Nothin’, Chicago Shakespeare Theater
Chris Jones, Tribune—“Actually, I prefer this new show to its predecessor. For starters, the language is more sophisticated. Good chunks of this 70-minute show are exceedingly smart and funny. ‘Excuse me, now truly, did you just step to me?’ says Beatrice (or as they call her here, MC Lady B). ‘I blew thee away because, dude, it’s my duty / You checkin’ my booty? / Too bad, you too fruity / Too dirty and snooty to get with this Beauty.’ It’s clever stuff, if you’re willing to go with the style… If you’ve seen too many Much Ados for there to be many surprises left, this lively and well-performed show will greatly amuse.”
Hedy Weiss, Sun-Times—“There is such a super-energized, linguistically ingenious, bristlingly funky spirit at work in this 80-minute production that Funk It Up should be downright irresistible for anyone interested in the intersection of high and low culture. And its cast of six actors—many of whom are proven masters of the classical style—are so physically and verbally agile, and so savvy in their ability to adapt to a whole new meter and method, that it’s a pleasure just to watch them mix it up with such complete brilliance.”
Barbara Vitello, Daily Herald—“Those unfamiliar with hip-hop patois will find the language poses as great a challenge as the Bard’s blank verse. What’s more, it requires just as much attention, and not just from the audience. The enterprising Q Brothers demand of their fluent, young cast the kind of verbal dexterity that classical theater demands. Every one of them proves up to the challenge.”
Albert Williams, Reader—“The Q brothers capitalize on the strength of Shakespeare’s story and the sexual comedy it’s filled with. But what they don’t seem to understand is that it isn’t just the plot that makes the story: the eloquence and intelligence of the language and the complex emotional journeys the characters take are just as important. The Qs’ simplistic, relentless rhymed couplets don’t allow for the subtleties of self-discovery… Missing from this show are Shakespeare’s immensely clever layering of sexual allusions and the rich, long-phrased rhetorical style he so brilliantly used to meld humor, passion, and pain into a distillation of the human experience.”
Brian Nemtusak, Time Out—“As the bickering Benedick and Beatrice, JQ and Ratcliff are particularly good; nominal leads Doran and Ledo are more clumsily ‘white,’ to terrific comic effect. GQ’s old-prospector turn as patriarch Leonato, confusing on its face, finds justification in thick references to novelty classic Rappin’ Duke. And Pringle proves that the humor of men in short shorts isn’t quite exhausted. For making this deeply flawed piece not only palatable but a goofy charmer, the brothers Q deserve a tremendous hip-hop hooray.”
Mary Shen Barnidge, Windy City—“It’s not like Shakespeare hasn’t been transposed to other cultures before—consider West Side Story—or that Old Will himself never sampled. But no longer can geezers (like me) diss or dismiss hip-hop music as a viable means of introducing its adherents to classical literature. Is the lingo arcane? We listen to foreign-language opera, don’t we? Are the rhymed couplets frivolous? Aren’t we the generation who grew up chanting Dr. Seuss? Is the imagery vulgar? How about Willie Shakes’ sonnet to masturbation? (‘Expense of spirit in a waste of shame’ this, kids!)”
Hay Fever, Circle Theatre
Hedy Weiss, Sun-Times—“Coward and Wilde demand an absolute mastery of precision timing, exquisite physical panache and an overall effortless sophistication. And Schneider’s blissfully expert cast of nine for Hay Fever (a large percentage of whom appeared in his earlier productions) meet the challenge completely, nailing every comic beat and gliding through each iconic pose with hilarious results.”
Jack Helbig, Reader—“It would be easy to play Noel Coward’s 1924 comedy, about a spoiled family of eccentrics, strictly for laughs. But that would be selling it short. Because beneath Coward’s brittle wit are buried myriad brilliant observations about the narcissistic jazz age—all of which come out in Jim Schneider’s smart, pitch-perfect production. Judith Hoppe seems truly insane as the self-absorbed matriarch at the center of the story. The whole production unfolds with a grace and intelligence that releases all the latent power in Coward’s deceptively glib work.”
Zac Thompson, Time Out—“Circle Theatre’s staging of Hay Fever neatly captures the Coward manner without seeming mannered, bringing the characters to full and vibrant life. Director Schneider achieves this with the help of Bob Knuth’s elegantly comfortable set, Suzanne Mann’s impeccable Jazz Age costumes and, above all, a pitch-perfect cast. Judith Hoppe is wonderfully off her rocker as matriarch Judith Bliss. And in matching Louise Brooks bobs, Erin Reitz as daughter Sorel Bliss and Kimberly Logan as icy Myra Arundel nicely convey, respectively, eccentricity struggling to appear respectable and its opposite, cool sophistication unraveling bit by bit.”
Scott C. Morgan, Windy City—“Hay Fever can also be a fizzy delight—depending upon the chemistry of the assembled cast. Circle Theatre’s gorgeously designed production under Jim Schneider’s assured direction is a strong argument in favor of Coward’s flippant comedy. But it’s a couple of notches away from being perfect… The cast also has a tendency to rush the dialogue and jokes in the opening scenes. It took a while for the cast to find the right comic timing the night I attended, but it was clear they were on the right path despite the initial muted audience response.”
The Kid From Brooklyn: The Danny Kaye Musical, Mercury Theater
Chris Jones, Tribune—“In fact, there’s a great deal to admire here, including Karin Leone’s empathetic, nicely sung Sylvia and two whiz-bang turns from Christina Purcell and Adam LeBow, who play almost every star in the constellation. And there’s a provocative central performance from Brian Childers, who can certainly spit out the famous Kaye patter songs and specialty ditties. But as yet, there’s a crippling central problem with The Kid From Brooklyn. Kaye may have been a dark soul in the dressing room—hardly an unusual trait for a professional comedian—but he had a deep emotional connection with audiences that didn’t just watch him for his funny faces or his bravura articulation but also for his demonstrable vulnerability.”
Albert Williams, Reader—“This account of Danny Kaye’s life is a vehicle for Brian Childers’s sometimes uncannily accurate impersonation. Missing, though, are the warmth and antic spontaneity without which Kaye’s fey fusion of Yiddish shtick and gay camp would have had limited appeal. The script comes off as hackneyed showbiz soap opera in its handling of Kaye’s stormy marriage, and the supporting cast offer clich?d caricatures of such legendary figures as Gertrude Lawrence, Laurence Olivier, and Kaye’s lover Eve Arden. The score consists mainly of novelty material from Kaye’s early career in nightclubs and on Broadway.”
Fabrizio O. Almeida, New City—“So the creators of The Kid from Brooklyn: The Danny Kaye Musical should know that there were moments…when I could see how this sheer force of comic nature may have captivated audiences with his peculiar brand of puerile, warm-hearted humor. They may also be pleased to know that by the end of the evening I felt like I had come to meet the private monster behind the public crowd-pleaser. But did I understand the reasons for this dichotomy? Did I even care? And most important, did I feel that Kaye’s life—based on the organization and presentation of material here—merited the dramatic treatment? The answer to all these questions is unfortunately ‘No.’
Brian Nemtusak, Time Out—“Brian Childers is technically dazzling, and even looks the part, but there’s something a little cold about his impersonation, echoed in the bellicose edge he imparts to Kaye’s more callisthenic performances. All the singers press a little hard, maybe because they’re working against a faintly soulless script, dominated by an accurate but stock manager-wife, actress-mistress love triangle—with a nod to rumored fourth-wheel Laurence Olivier—and the standard r?sum?-credit whistle-stop tour. There’s nothing lacking in the way of skills or polish, but somewhere amid the song-and-dance muscularity of script and cast, Kaye’s winningness gets lost.”
Jonathan Abarbanel, Windy City—“What disappoints about The Kid from Brooklyn aren’t the performances of Childers or his three supporting players or the cooking four-piece band, but the vehicle. Neither complete nor compelling as biography, it’s a vaudeville bill of some of Kaye’s greatest hits and famous associates: Gwen Verdon, Sammy Goldwyn, Alfred Drake, Kitty Carlisle, Gertrude Lawrence, Cole Porter, Laurence Olivier, Moss Hart, etc. Portrayed as caricatures, most appear in just one sketch-like scene each. Only Kaye and his wife/chief writer Sylvia Fine (Karin Leone) emerge as real.”
Superior Donuts, Steppenwolf Theatre Company
Chris Jones, Tribune—“So. Is Superior Donuts the next August? No. Another Great American Play? Nope. The one to beat for all the awards? It would have to be a lean year. Straight to Broadway? Don’t book your flight… Still reading? Good. Because Landau’s humanely and unpretentiously staged premiere enhances a witty, seductive, live-wire and greatly entertaining dark comedy that you just don’t want to end and you just don’t want to miss. The one thing it most assuredly has in common with its illustrious predecessor is that it lands with an audience. A Chicago audience.”
Hedy Weiss, Sun-Times—“Where the play falls short is in its heavy dependence on standard-issue, sitcom-meets-mobster clich?s. The whole thing has an undeniable zest, but also feels far from seamless as it lurches from behavioral comedy to urban tragedy to social critique. And its characters—the young genius undone by his not-so-streetwise escapades, the Maalox-gobbling thug, the female cop with hidden baking skills—all feel like they’ve been pressed from pre-existing molds.”
Barbara Vitello, Daily Herald—“Critics who had sharpened their knives in anticipation of Tracy Letts’ Superior Donuts will have to sheath their blades. More intimate than its predecessor—the widely acclaimed and wildly successful August: Osage County—Letts’ latest lacks that play’s sweep and scale. But it warrants neither the slings nor the arrows that sometimes accompany the follow-up to a blockbuster. On the contrary, Superior Donuts, which premiered this week at Steppenwolf Theatre, is a solidly entertaining successor to August. And if its rather routine story flirts with sentimentality, at least it doesn’t succumb to it.”
Zac Thompson, Reader—“Tracy Letts’ follow-up to August: Osage County is a serviceable, often touching comedy. In Superior Donuts we’ve got Arthur Przybyszewski, an ineffectual former hippie who runs the Uptown donut shop his Polish immigrant parents opened in 1950. Into Arthur’s ruin walks Franco Wicks—an exuberant young black man bursting with promise. His spunk and drive awaken in Arthur something resembling hope. Stuff happens. But the play’s essential, humble purposes are to chart Arthur and Franco’s friendship, and to celebrate Chicago.”
Christopher Piatt, Time Out—“Even if it opened in a vacuum in which August: Osage never existed, Steppenwolf still would have cranked out the conversation piece of the season; its stage currently bustles with the kind of flavorful Chicago characters who don’t make it onto Chicago stages nearly often enough. But it’s not a play for all time; in terms of shelf life we’ve gone from King Lear to Norman Lear. Superior Donuts should thus be consumed before it gets stale. Like the sinkers that have been Arthur’s daily livelihood, you ought to get it while it’s hot, fresh and tasty.”
Lawrence Bommer, Free Press—“Like Brett Neveu’s Gas for Less at Goodman Theatre, this is a good-hearted tribute to the tenacity of endangered family businesses. The terrific cast, featuring Kate Buddeke as a donut-eating cop (of all things) and Jane Alderman as a lonely Uptown eccentric, are hobbled by the script’s entropy, which undermines their splendid energy. Of course, August: Osage County would be the proverbial hard act to follow. But this too-familiar fare doesn’t even put up a fight.”
Catey Sullivan, Windy City—“Tracy Letts’ Superior Donuts is a modest, solidly entertaining lesser work—lesser, inevitably, than Letts’ Pulitzer Prize-winning August: Osage County. Donuts might not be superior, but director Tina Landau succeeds in telling an involving story with both Chicago-centric and universal appeal.”
Quote of the Fortnight:
“Factory Theater once again proves how satisfying self-consciously awful theater can be.”—Justin Hayford reviewing Factory Theater’s production of Ren Faire! A Fistful of Ducats in the Reader.