8-1-08
Cochran Shines in Writers’ Lion
Certain plays are very hard to screw up. There’s a reason why You Can’t Take It With You, The Foreigner, or Barefoot in the Park appear so often on community theatre and high school stages. These aren’t bad plays. In fact, they’re good enough to withstand the efforts of actors of all skill levels. Even a bad production of The Odd Couple gets laughs.
The Lion in Winter belongs in that camp. James Goldman’s wry banter plays well no matter what. And even if the cast fails to plumb the emotional depths beneath their characters’ glib surfaces, the play’s amusing enough to make an enjoyable evening of theatre.
Of course when a theatre as accomplished as Writers chooses to essay Goldman’s best (and almost his only) straight play, you expect better than a run-of-the-mill production. And to some extent you’ll get that if you make your way to Glencoe. The production values are nicely realized, particularly Jack Magaw’s flexible set. Director Rick Snyder has chosen to emphasize the 1183 medieval setting and Magaw’s set includes, among other details, straw strewn about the floor. Costume designer Nan Zabriskie takes full advantage of the period’s styles, particularly in garbing the women.
Matching this authentic approach to the designs, Snyder appears to have pushed his actors in a more dramatic direction and away from playing for laughs. Unfortunately, many of Goldman’s most memorable lines exist strictly to get a laugh. “Of course he has a knife. We all have knives. It’s 1183 and we’re barbarians.” Not the stuff of which high drama is made.
Snyder’s production benefits from a transcendent central performance in Shannon Cochran’s Eleanor. She may lose to Henry in the end, but Cochran succeeds in making herself the central character. Eleanor’s emotional desperation has never been so clear. And Cochran does particularly well in balancing her dramatic moments with Goldman’s wry dialogue.
Other actors succeed less well. Michael Canavan, as the titular king, seemed to be forcing his bluster and never appeared completely comfortable as he raged against fate. His sons blur into each other a bit. Michael Fagin does have his moments as the young king of France. And Laura Coover finds an honesty in the thankless role of Alais. But no one keeps up with Cochran.
If you have never seen The Lion in Winter it’s worth making a trip to experience this play. If you’re familiar with Goldman’s work, then it might be worth the trip to enjoy Cochran’s performance. But don’t expect this production to offer you much that’s substantially new, or to change your mind if you’re not a fan of the play.
The Lion in Winter, Writers Theatre
Chris Jones, Tribune—“Thanks to the husband-and-wife, King-and-Queen team of Michael Canavan and Shannon Cochran, the smart-mouthed angst flows along nicely in Rick Snyder’s pleasingly primal production. You wish the leading pair had more sexual tension and political bite in places—it’s not entirely believable here that Canavan’s gruff Henry is holding Cochran’s deliciously full and spunky Eleanor in check. But you find yourself quite enamored with the couple. With decent pacing, throbbing music and a very attractive cast, Snyder comes up with a much livelier than usual Lion that maintains a very fresh and fluid landscape around the dysfunctional royals.”
Kerry Reid, Reader—“James Goldman’s 1966 battle royale between King Henry II of England, his imprisoned wife Eleanor of Aquitaine, and their three ambitious sons hovers somewhere between Noel Coward-like acidity and the clawing and scheming of 1980s prime-time soaps like ‘Dynasty.’ Rick Snyder’s smart, warmhearted staging reconciles the two tendencies, particularly in Shannon Cochran’s brilliant turn as the painfully self-aware queen spurned not only for her meddling but also for daring to grow older. This is a wise, full-bodied take on a familiar chestnut.”
Dennis Polkow, New City—“How refreshing to see the cobwebs of British calm stripped away from this modern classic with a first-rate ensemble that goes through the motions of their family hatreds so passionately that the audience is treated to a riveting ringside brawl within the close confines of Writers Theatre. Henry (Michael Canavan) and his Queen Eleanor (Shannon Cochran) provide most of the melodrama, but no less impressive are the three sons who vie for position to become their father’s heir, Lea Coco, Christopher McLinden and as a delightfully insufferably spoiled Prince John, Robert Belushi.”
Christopher Piatt, Time Out—“As mounted in a dapper, assertive production by Snyder, it proves a more-than-roadworthy vehicle for married actors Canavan and Cochran, both of whom tear into their roles as flustered aristocrats at loggerheads over which of their three sons should inherit the throne (they’re not crazy about any of their choices). Blustery Canavan—as the disgruntled patriarch who can’t choose between wife and family-raised mistress, let alone determine the future of his kingdom—plays upscale hubris to the hilt. Cochran, meanwhile, heats up the blue blood that pumps beneath Eleanor’s patrician facade; what pleasure to observe the precision and ferocity with which this veteran performer carries herself.”
Jonathan Abarbanel, Windy City—“Under Rick Snyder’s direction, the show is like a train that starts slowly and gathers speed. Once the extended exposition is out of the way, the show chugs at a good clip. And the straw-scattered scenery (Jack Magaw), lighting (J. R. Lederle) and costumes (Nan Zabriskie) create a handsome environment. But there’s not much Snyder can do about plot repetitions or, more difficult still, the repetitive emotional beats. Sometimes the production just looks and sounds stagy. A master of contemporary realism, Snyder doesn’t seem completely comfortable with stylized costume drama.”
Get Ready, eta Creative Arts
Jack Helbig, Reader—“Jaye Stewart, Joe Plummer, and Debi Stewart’s musical, about a Temptations-like R & B group attempting a comeback, covers well-worn ground. In fact, the whole arc of the story echoes any number of backstage musicals. Still, the freshness of the dialogue, and of the performances delivered by Ilse Duncan’s excellent cast, redeems the material. Get Ready feels long and needs a lot of shaping. But whenever the story flags, somebody charges things up again by singing another song.”
Jacques Brel’s Lonesome Losers of the Night, Theo Ubique Theatre Co.
Chris Jones, Tribune—“Theo Ubique operates in a simple, tiny joint on landlocked North Glenwood Avenue in Chicago—the No Exit Cafe is so close to the rumbling ‘L,’ you can hear when the doors are closing. But Anzevino’s subtly toned show still transports you to a rough, guttural ambience that feels something akin to Eugene O’Neill’s sea plays and is positively bursting with the aura of European dislocation and humanistic emotional oomph… And not only do the four singers in Theo Ubique’s 90-minute revue have powerful, sophisticated and appealing voices, they blend together in the most interesting narrative fashion.”
Albert Williams, Reader—“Assembled by director Fred Anzevino, poet Arnold Johnston, and pianist-arranger Joshua Stephen Kartes, this concept revue showcases the musical character studies of Jacques Brel, the cabaret star of the 1950s and ‘60s. The setting is a waterfront bar in 1959 Amsterdam, where a whore, a bartender, and two servicemen on the prowl come together to seek solace. Brel’s rousing drinking songs and aching ballads suit the scruffy intimacy of Theo Ubique Theatre Company’s cafe venue, and the fine young cast deliver honest, emotionally detailed readings of Johnston’s translations.”
Dennis Polkow, New City—“The material is so good, you suspect that despite the best efforts of a talented and spirited quartet, you begin to realize how totally transforming this stuff would be with singers a bit less masculine, operatic and contrasting in their approaches (there are three loud male baritones and only a single female soprano) and with some evocative orchestration beyond a far too literal piano and some sparse guitar.”
Novid Parsi, Time Out—“In Love and War, the performers simply interpreted Brel songs, which thus resonated with one another in oblique, powerful ways. Here, with a forced narrative frame—in 1959 Amsterdam, two soldiers form a love triangle with a prostitute—the actors must fit (and reduce) each tune to that rudimentary structure… A talented trio of male crooners creates some very lovely music, yet in attempting more than cabaret, Lonesome Losers has achieved something less.”
Jonathan Abarbanel, Windy City—“The four singers are veterans Jeremy Trager, Jenny Lamb, Eric Martin and Chicago newcomer Chris Damiano: attractive—even sexy—players who blend well together in several tight harmony sections and also have their individual moments to shine. Staging is relatively simple in the intimate No Exit Café (food and non-alcoholic drinks available) , with a small bar set, the piano and the occasional use of café aisles. To close with the cliché, Lonesome Losers of the Night is a winner.”
Saints in Strange Places, Appetite Theatre
Mary Shen Barnidge, Windy City—“Playgoers looking for a dramatic, philosophical or theological through-line in this drivel will soon abandon their efforts. The apocalypse may supply a theme, but characters who jump from one impulsive action to the next with never a hint of transitional subtext grow quickly tiresome—not just from a lack of motivational context, but from absence of individualized personalities sufficient to spark our empathy. The resulting activity provides the actors of the Appetite Theatre an opportunity to showcase their emotive skills, reveling in the passion of the moment, but cripples further demonstration of proficiency at fully realized interpretations of fully-written roles.”
Zac Thompson, Time Out—“A steady barrage of wacky sacrilege grows tedious if not accompanied by solid laughs, and unfortunately those are in short supply here. Holstein seems to think that merely presenting a provocative or offensive situation amounts to making a joke, but provocation for its own sake isn’t comedy; it’s a cry for attention. Brett’s flavorless production for Appetite Theatre doesn’t help matters. Except for a couple of fully committed performances by Cheryl Roy and Tom Lally as the middle-aged married couple, the cast lacks the necessary lunacy and bite. Still, if you ever wanted to see Satan sporting peyes and propositioning a preteen Jesus Christ, your prayers have been answered.”
Quote of the Fortnight:
“Odds are that, next year this time, there will be a gaping hole in the fabric of the performing arts community.”—Catey Sullivan reviewing Live Bait’s Fillet of Solo in the Windy City Times.