Steppenwolf Theatre Company's The Dresser

Theatre about theatre holds its own special place in the dramatic canon, and most likely stems from the classic admonition "write what you know." And, of course, they prove forever attractive to actors, who get to play what they know.

In the case of Ronald Harwood's The Dresser, an aging actor, Sir (John Mahoney), is on a back-breaker of a tour—playing leads in Shakespeare's classic tragedies to appreciative crowds in the provinces during the Battle of Britain in 1942. After suffering a breakdown, his long-suffering dresser, Norman (Tracy Letts) and stage manager, Madge (Peggy Roeder) try to coax him through the evening's performance of King Lear.

For The Dresser to work, audiences must believe that Sir has, or had, the sort of magnetic personality that pulls everyone around him into his wake. While Mahoney certainly is an accomplished actor, he's more believable as an old man at the end of his rope than he is as the charismatic, fading dictator of a backstage world. Letts, in the title role, seems to occupy a different world than the rest of the cast, playing an overblown gay character and actually overwhelming Mahoney. He finds and exploits the humor in Harwood's script, but fails to mine the dramatic depths that would match humor with tragedy in the end.

Still, the individual performances are generally quite accomplished and Santo Loquasto's set and Pat Collins' lights open up a believable backstage world. The individual pieces on display here are very strong—they just don't always coalesce into an equally strong whole.

The Dresser—Steppenwolf Theatre Company

Michael Phillips, Tribune—"Mahoney's Sir is very different. The raspy edge to his panic attacks, the icy despair (which comes on too fully in his first scene) and cold glares lend director Amy Morton's production a rougher, more bullish quality. Letts may be the most physically imposing Norman in the history of The Dresser. The actor uses his considerable height as a kind of internal struggle for the character, scrunching himself down to meet Sir's gaze, trying to make himself inconspicuous in the tiny shabby-genteel dressing room. Much of Letts' forceful portrayal ends up in Norman's fidgety hands and at times the effect is more external than insightful. Also, Letts brings a weirdly heavy dose of menace to some of the later scenes. Yet he holds you."

Hedy Weiss, Sun-Times—"Mahoney has assumed another monumental role, and in his depiction of a man for whom the stage is everything, you cannot help but sense he has a higher-than-usual stake in the portrayal. His quicksilver mood swings from half-mad to razor-sharp have a wonderful volatility, and watching him apply makeup to his gaunt face with the audience serving as his lookingglass is a delight. Letts, who must talk a blue streak throughout the play, is every bit as volatile. His Norman is alternately pandering and savage, self-abasing, self-aggrandizing and heavily dependent on brandy. There is admiration and devotion in him, but also a keen envy and resentment and self-sacrifice rooted in dependence."

Albert Williams, Reader—"Mahoney's Sir is haggard and heroic, frail and feisty, insufferable and irresistible. Letts is wonderful as the prissy Norman, sucking brandy from a hip flask to steel himself for his behind-the-scenes servitude. Equally good are Peggy Roeder as the starchy stage manager secretly in love with Sir and Mike Nussbaum as a bit player suddenly forced into a major role. Santo Loquasto's bi-level set beautifully re-creates a decaying provincial theater, where the most gripping drama takes place offstage."

Web Behrens, Free Press—"It comes as no surprise that John Mahoney commands the stage in the domineering role of Sir. But the play is called The Dresser for a reason: The story is his, and this play, accordingly, belongs to Tracy Letts. One of Chicago's most chameleon actors, Letts vanishes once again into his character. His nelly Norman at first appears obsequious, but he's got plenty of mettle too—on display during a catwalk encounter with a calculating young climber—and plenty of repressed emotions, which bubble over during the show's climax. Adding this great success to her list of directorial efforts, Amy Morton occupies a rarified place. Everything clicks in her shows, and, like a master seamstress, she's concealed all the mechanics. All that's left is to marvel at the art."

Nina Metz, New City—"Standing at his dressing-room door, Mahoney is thin, drawn and tired: Will he or won't he be able to pull it together and perform that night as the title character in King Lear? Tracy Letts as his dresser, Norman, works double-time prodding and goading his employer on stage. It is a long, drawn-out process, not all of it particularly absorbing. But first, the makeup must be applied, and it is here that director Amy Morton's production achieves its best moments. Sitting at his dressing table, Sir applies the glue, then the white beard and mustache of his character, emitting a deep throaty growl, equal parts vocal warm-up and emotional psyche-up. And it is during this scene that Letts finally quiets his performance."

Mary Shen Barnidge, Windy City—"Since its premiere in 1980, interpretations of this play tend to hammer home the father-son dynamic—reflected in that of King Lear and his Fool—with Sir visualized as a leonine giant roaring against the dying of the light, and Norman, a ferretlike imp slyly cosseting, cajoling, and secretly cursing his charge. But Steppenwolf director Amy Morton heightens the dramatic tension by deliberately casting against physical type. From his first entrance, John Mahoney suggests, through stance and expression, a man smaller and wearier than himself. While Tracy Letts, his physique reminiscent of WPA-murals, allows us to perceive the strength and fury underlying Norman's limp-wristed effacement."

The Age of Cynicism or Karaoke Night at the Hog—Chicago Dramatists

Chris Jones, Tribune—"Keith Huff's new play for Chicago Dramatists has two titles: The Age of Cynicism, which sounds like something by Henry James, and Karaoke Night at the Hog, which sounds like an ad in a cheap nightlife magazine for bikers. Therein lie both its clear potential and the source of its confounding messiness. And a wildly uneven production from Ann Filmer only adds to the frustrations of an evening with the seeds of a brilliant comic idea, but one so submerged in over-the-top nonsense that its lack of veracity chokes off the necessary oxygen... It's tempting to write this show off—some sections are beyond awful—but it also keeps nagging away at you. Some of the laughs are genuine. So are some of the concerns."

Kevin Nance, Sun-Times—"How ripe, how juicy, how utterly tempting an idea it must have seemed to playwright Keith Huff: Write a drama about infidelity, throw in some twentysomething generational angst, then give this standard-issue material an interactive (and potentially commercial) twist by adding generous dollops of that ever-popular fount of human comedy, karaoke. Alas, sometimes the ripest, juiciest apples turn out brown and wormy inside. Huff's The Age of Cynicism or Karaoke Night at the Hog, now at Chicago Dramatists in a world premiere directed by Ann Filmer, is a hodgepodge whose individual parts, including some undeniably hilarious ones, do more than stubbornly refuse to fit together; they get in each other's way."

Nick Green, Reader—"Keith Huff breaks the fourth wall before it's even erected in his latest play, a droll—if insubstantial—audience-participation romantic comedy set at a trendy karaoke bar. Director Ann Filmer sets a relaxed pace with the 'he said, she said' vignettes framing the karaoke performances. Huff's characters occasionally lapse into stiff platitudes, but there's no question the play is tailor-made for the talents of its four performers. Christopher Cordon—channeling Niles Crane as an anal-retentive sissy—brings the house down during a shirtless rendition of Prince's 'Kiss,' an extended goof so perfectly executed that everything afterward feels like a letdown."

Tim Sauers, Gay Chicago—"Huff crafts many funny lines and makes interesting observations about people and their relationships to each other. His overly metaphorical writing works for the most part, but the piece is not quite developed enough paired with an odd construct of audience karaoke between each scene to fully realize his vision. The latter issue weighs down the action and does nothing to further the plot but rather adds a certain lowlife ambiance, purposefully placed by the playwright. There's a section in the second act that plays far too long as the four find themselves at the Hog, singing '70s hits such as 'You Light Up My Life' and 'Almost Paradise.' It's more fun when the amateurs from the audience croon through 'Don't It Make My Brown Eyes Blue' and 'How Deep is Your Love.'"

Jonathan Abarbanel, Windy City—"This over-the-top comedy by award-winning author Keith Huff offers audience-participation karaoke (voluntary), archly literate dialogue and a sharp edge that slashes at trust and fidelity in marriage and friendship...Ann Filmer plays up the artifice with staging somewhere between sitcom gone ballistic and burlesque Edward Albee. The play goes a long way on antics, energy and wit, but ultimately provides neither a conclusive dramatic ending nor answers to the issues it opens. If only it reached some resolution it would have it all. But there's no evidence that Huff wants to find answers; he seems content with theater games alone, and YOU can sing along."

Sweeney Todd—Porchlight Music Theatre

Chris Jones, Tribune—"Attend the tale of Sweeney Todd at Chicago's emergent Porchlight Theatre, and you encounter a Chicago actor with an acute sense of the intimate demands of this sad-hearted role. In one of the best local performances of the year, Michael Aaron Lindner makes it feel like you are watching a broken-hearted killer with no choice but to try and correct the paucity of decent pie-filling in Victorian London. It's such a remarkable performance—a thrilling but credible piece of acting that comes with no vocal compromises whatsoever—that it makes one inclined to forgive some of the more typical melodramatic posing in the ensemble that surrounds Lindner at the Theatre Building."

Hedy Weiss, Sun-Times—"The altogether sensational production of Sweeney Todd marks the initial salvo in Porchlight Music Theatre's 10th anniversary season. And it would be difficult to imagine a better showcase of this company's enormous ambition and accomplishment than this vision of the demon barber of Fleet Street and his corruption-ridden world. This is 'a musical thriller' indeed, and one that will have you laughing wildly and gasping in horror at every turn. Not only is Rebecca Finnegan hands-down the best Mrs. Lovett I've ever seen—and I'm not excepting Angela Lansbury or Patti LuPone here—but every aspect of the production is ideal, from the soaring voices of the soloists and ensemble, to the live orchestra and surprisingly grand design."

Lawrence Bommer, Reader—"Alternately folk opera, revenge tragedy, neo-Brechtian protest, and penny-dreadful melodrama, this piece is above all an ensemble effort. And that's the secret to the success of this scorching Porchlight Music Theatre Chicago production. Never have the denizens of Fleet Street seemed so appropriately zombielike, their decomposition demanding a demon barber to finish them off. Michael Aaron Lindner's seething Sweeney all but sprays magma across the stage. And Rebecca Finnegan's pie-baking Mrs. Lovett—a serious harpy—is admirably straight-faced, too busy being ridiculous to know she is. L. Walter Stearn's cast seize every moment in their superb caricatures, the perfect illustrations for Sondheim's scathing score."

Jonathan Abarbanel, Windy City—"Dramatically, Stearns understands the 1840-ish period of Sweeny Todd, when the downtrodden and derelict of early industrial London outnumbered the comfortable. The dark era frames a tale of Romantics (Sweeney, Anthony, Johanna) vs. Raptors (Turpin, Lovett) in which failed Romantic Sweeney turns Uber-Raptor. The ensemble are in ghoulish make-up and sometimes move like the undead through the dripping, smoke-dappled, fetid London of Richard and Jacqueline Penrod's scenic design, framed by cast iron pipes. The Act I closer, 'Have a Little Priest' and the Act II finale are the funniest and most horrifying—respectively—of any Sweeney Todd I've seen, including the original."

Web Behrens, Free Press—"Director L. Walter Stearns clearly encourages everyone to play the high stakes in this tragic tale-thus sustaining the suspense, even when you know exactly what's coming next. Most of the supporting actors do fine work, especially Stan Q. Walsh as a formidable Pirelli and Scott J. Sumerak as simple Tobias. However, Bethany Dawn's peculiar Johanna (saddled with a silly wig) suggests that madness runs in the Todd genes. Meanwhile, Carol J. Blanchard provides fine-fettled costumes (Mrs. Lovett's tattered glamour of act one is especially spot-on), and the simple but striking set, with gaping pipes rising up ominously in the corners, comes courtesy Richard and Jacqueline Penrod."

Venus Zarris, Gay Chicago—"It can be said that the musical Sweeney Todd, the story of a 19th century London barber insane with vengeance who supplied an equally maniacal pie shop owner with the human flesh of his victims for her meat pies, is an homage to the gastronomical violations of English cooking. It can also be said that Porchlight Musical Theatre's production of this challenging Stephen Sondheim masterpiece is a fantastic feast for the eyes, ears and mind as its staging is marvelously magnificent. This is the most completely exigent endeavor I have seen the company attempt to tackle and the most completely successful play I have seen it produce on every level."

How to Explain Communism to Mental Patients—
Wing & Groove Theatre Company

Nina Metz, Tribune—"The Wing & Groove production, uneven but sometimes compelling under Bryan White's direction, is part of the citywide "Playing French" festival...Not all of the performances here work. Mark Woods' hospital administrator is more regional sales manager than scary dude in charge. And someone needs to teach Woods how to pronounce these names right: It's Katia, not Codya. But others in the ensemble are quite strong and make the production worth seeing, including Kerri Van Auken as a nurse infatuated with Stalin, as well as Lucas Peterson and Adam Verner as mental patients who are far more than mere caricatures."

Hedy Weiss, Sun-Times—"Working from a zesty translation by Jeremy Lawrence and Catherine Popesco, director Bryan White has done a first-rate job of evoking the absurdity and self-devouring nature of the situation. And his young actors are with him every step of the way...If the show's second act flags somewhat, it is because Visniec belabors his point. But for those once subjected to this kind of madness, the sense of an endless spiraling out of control may simply be art imitating life."

Quote of the Fortnight

"War is 'hard work,' as our president said the other night in Miami, reasserting his administration's predilection for two-word placations on the order of Donald Rumsfeld's 'stuff happens.' Bush would likely have little use for The Warriors, a dense, oddly lyrical probing of the worst of combat and the worst of its aftermath."—Michael Phillips reviewing European Repertory's production of The Warriors in the Tribune.