2-27-09
Satire Misses in Raven's Production
The creation of theatre, at least the way it proceeds in this country, tends to consume more time than it does with other art forms. Collaboration often breeds delay. Institutional theatres, even small ones who would, you’d think, have more flexibility, plan so far in advance it’s difficult to quickly see a script move from conception to execution in less than a year or two. As a result, deliberately topical theatre often lags behind the times. The Laramie Project, for instance, centered around the murder of Matthew Shepard in October of 1998. It opened in February of 2000, 14 months after the original event. And that’s one of the fastest examples out there. If you want to do a play about current events, you’d best be sure the event will be going on for a while (a play about homelessness will likely be relevant for quite some time) or you need to be prepared to pull out an older play that has contemporary relevance. Max Frisch’s The Firebugs, for instance, about a wave of arsons, acquired new resonance after 9/11.
On the surface, Tom Patrick’s Misamerica certainly takes aim at a few universals and a few still-relevants. Depicting a clumsy attempt by an American shoe company to break into a new Middle-Eastern market in a recently “pacified” country, Patrick skewers corporate pigheadedness and greed—traits that have been around for decades and seem likely to persist as long as the corporate model is predominant. Additionally, the Iraq War drags on, and despite a new president, many of the assumptions that drove it—removing a dictator will result in a free society; a free society is necessarily a capitalistic society—remain in place.
Despite all that, Misamerica feels horribly dated. In part because Patrick makes a mistake many satirists make: he has too little respect for his targets. It’s easy to believe an American corporation would decide to try to sell shoes to the Iraqis. It’s much harder to believe that the people depicted here would ever have the opportunity, given their complete and total lack of thoughtfulness about the country they’re entering. Their entire approach reeks of the early assumption that we would be greeted as liberators by the Iraqis. As a nation we’ve moved beyond that dialogue about the war. But Misamerica, which appeared in Stage Left’s LeapFest 3 in 2006 and was presumably conceived in 2004 or 2005, has not updated its thinking. So as an audience, we mainly have contempt for these characters, whose idea of a focus group is to bring up the Indian guy from accounting.
Greg Kolack’s production is handsome, with a nice set design by Kelly Dailey and rocked-out sound from Mike Tutaj. The transitions lag, which gives the audience a little too much time to think between scenes—rarely a good trait in a production of a comedy. Patrick does manage a series of credibly funny situations, which find mixed success with Kolack’s cast. Several members make the all-to-frequent mistake prevalent in comedy of losing touch with the reality of the characters’ situations, playing for the laugh rather than playing the stakes. Others, like Steve Ratcliff as the representative of the shoe company and Kimberly Logan as the lead from the marketing firm he hires, find a more rooted place, but that unfortunately exposes some of the problems with Patrick’s script. How could characters who appear this reasonable be so stupid as to end up in this situation?
Satire requires immediate connection with current events. Steven Colbert’s show is particularly funny because his viewers know the news and, in particular, know Bill O’Reilly. We’re still digesting current events, and Colbert’s comedy spins some of our assumptions (and O’Reilly’s assumptions) out to their seemingly logical conclusion. The longer something’s in the public mindset, the more subtle satire needs to get. Unfortunately, Patrick’s play doesn’t have the depth to still be funny six years into the Iraq War.
Misamerica, Raven Theatre
Nina Metz, Tribune—“Written with the delicacy of a sledgehammer and directed with an equal lack of subtlety, the play is receiving its world premiere at Raven Theatre, a company that has had better success with dramas. Satire, for all its outrageousness, needs a recognizable truth, though Patrick never establishes a baseline to work from—or a character to really root for. That, and the central conceit feels dated already; these days, corporations are cutting their payrolls like crazy, not expanding into foreign markets.”
Hedy Weiss, Sun-Times—“As you might be able to predict, everything about America and the Americans is nasty. And everything about ‘the other’ is close to ideal. Of course, women might not have it so good ‘over there’ if you really think about it. The truth is, wearing a burkha can sure interfere with sipping a Starbucks. The play hits every expected target with the subtlety of a megaton bomb as it moves from unhappy golf course encounter to corporate conference room in the United States (where a crass ad campaign has been devised), to bombed-out office that is meant to be the workplace of the visiting Americans, and then back home again.”
Barbara Vitello, Daily Herald—“[T]here’s nothing in Patrick’s unabashed, broadly drawn critique of U.S. response to and exploitation of Middle East turmoil that we haven’t seen before… That said, the play is funny, in a gleefully chaotic, take-no-prisoners kind of way.”
Kerry Reid, Reader—“Somewhere in Tom Patrick’s satire about ugly Americanism in the Middle East there lurks a slicing critique of the disaster capitalism described by Naomi Klein in The Shock Doctrine. But neither Patrick’s script nor Greg Kolack’s heavy-handed staging manage to move past the clichéd list of stuff Americans export along with democracy: fast food, Christian missionaries with southern-fried accents, and general self-involved whining. Patrick’s Muslim characters come off as little more than hapless victims, adding to the general sense of dramaturgical shallowness despite some well-honed laughs.”
Brian Nemtusak, Time Out—“It’s just never as cutting or absurd as it wants to be, and a little out of date per the current purchased-peace situation on the ground. The recurring device of a slain Iraqi collaborator’s ghost, who doubles as the corporate protagonist’s conscience, or muse, or something, doesn’t help things any; neither do the high-energy bursts of music punctuating the scenes, or the all-hell-breaks-loose siege situation of the play’s climax, all familiar in all the wrong ways.”
Lisa Buscani, New City—“The occasionally simplistic script (stupid, venal people trying to exploit overly naive people) can grow tiresome, but the cast’s screwball energy saves the day: Greg Hardin scores as a smarmy boss and Lindley Wisnewski brings the funny as a wacky relief supervisor. Toward the end, Gina and a government representative assess the complexities of the conflict. More of that tone would have provided a great counterpoint. Instead, the audience is left with the madness of our actions, which are funny and not funny at all.”
Lawrence Bommer, Free Press—“But the play is like those two shoes thrown at Bush by the brave reporter: It misses. The comic machinery never gets in gear, weighed down with heavy-handed stereotypes, annoying rather than skillfully spoofed characters (more mean than clever), groaner-joke dialogue and a misfire of moods, uneasily mixing gallows humor into a trite sitcom setting. You’ll learn nothing new here about a lot of stuff that deserves a more serious satire.”
Scott C. Morgan, Windy City—“Five years ago, Misamerica had an edgy and hilarious quality of speaking truth to power—namely President George W. Bush’s administration and the many no-bid contractors who descended upon Iraq. But now that Bush and his cronies are out of office, Misamerica’s impact is like using a rear-view mirror to take potshots at an intended target. I’m glad that Raven and director Greg Kolack are giving audiences a chance to see Patrick’s scathing comedy, but now it plays like old news.”
I Gotcha, Black Ensemble Theatre
Chris Jones, Tribune—“This is an uncommonly happy place. If you could get through this night without humming along to ‘634-5789 (Soulville, USA)’ or tapping a pudgy toe to ‘Skinny Legs and All,’ then you’re in the middle of one deep personal recession. This latest Black Ensemble show has all the usual unsubtle elements—a light behind-the-music biography with an emphasis on the positive, the crack Jimmy Tillman band, glamorous wigs and dancers, and some very decent musical talent. What’s a little unusual here is that much of the conflict revolves around Tex’s desire to reconcile performing with his Muslim faith. This being Black Ensemble, all sides are treated with respect and sympathy. Still, showbiz always wins out here.”
Hedy Weiss, Sun-Times—“Written by Joe Plummer and David Barr and directed by Jackie Taylor with her usual panache, the show follows the traditional BET formula. This, of course, means tapping the talents of sensational, near uncanny replicators of the original singers, putting them together in a crisis situation that triggers the memory of things past, and galvanizing the audience in a giant love fest of toe-tapping hits from a golden age.”
Lawrence Bommer, Reader—“Like its vibrant predecessors, Black Ensemble Theater’s latest revival is classic conjuring. With religious fervor, director Jackie Taylor brings to life Joe Tex and three other great 1960s composer-singers… It’s easy to feel the heat from music director Jimmy Tillman’s kick-ass re-creations of ‘Skinny Legs and All,’ ‘Stand by Me’ and ‘Fever.’ Lyle Miller’s Tex croons a score of jukebox gems. The message matters less than the music, but this script by David Barr III and Joe Plummer, set at a last-chance 1981 reunion, serves both better than Taylor’s previous creations.”
Christopher Piatt, Time Out—“You’ll have no problem enjoying this wicked soul revue, whose script offers only a thin glance into Tex’s life but also creates a broad contextual setting and features a musical package from Black Ensemble’s curator/boss lady Jackie Taylor that’s possibly the company’s tightest yet. Dr. Jimmy Lee Tillman’s orchestra, screaming horns and deep bass sounds in tow, has never been so on message, while an angelic-voiced Watts as King, king-sized entertainer Brooks as Burke, Miller’s heartrending channeling of Tex and ferocious Murdock as Wilson Pickett are making the best and most culturally plugged-in Chicago stage sound since Caroline, or Change.”
Mary Shen Barnidge, Windy City—“Devotees of Black Ensemble’s musical biodramas don’t ask for much in the way of plot beyond the minimum necessary to place the headliner’s artistic legacy into context. Barr and Plummer, however, are not content merely to serve as emcees to a string of warbles and hoofs. Their text may fall short of August Wilson’s profundity, but nevertheless builds its spoken-word dynamic on a consistent and recognizable foundation… None of this, however, impedes the music that is the evening’s main attraction.”
Modigliani, The Artistic Home
Laura Molzahn, Reader—“The play supposedly ‘chronicles a critical 72-hour period’ in Modigliani’s life, but one minute is pretty much like the next, spent drinking and demanding money, food, or recognition. There’s no real conflict or suspense, and no real outcome, so it’s unclear why these days are critical. I got so tired of the artists’ hair-pulling rants that by the time Modigliani met with cruel dealer Cheron, I was rooting for the dealer.”
Kris Vire, Time Out—“The artist’s struggle can serve as a solid foundation for drama, but [Dennis] McIntyre’s terribly inept play has nothing profound to say about creation; nor does it give a full enough sense of Modi’s life to serve as historical record. Modigliani is the kind of thing that gives artists a bad name. Though the Artistic Home often handles histrionic drama of decades past with grace, here [director Kathy] Scambiatterra’s fitful production can’t settle on a direction. Scenes of bizarre slapstick comedy alternate with bombastic shouting matches between the lovers, punctuated by long, momentum-disrupting scene changes.”
Lisa Buscani, New City—“The show’s opening is ‘smashing’: Amadeo ‘Modi’ Modigliani (John Mossman) is shown literally and figuratively breaking through barriers. But from there, the story devolves into parody rather than portrait. Modi’s relationships with painters Chaim Soutine (Matt Welton) and Maurice Utrillo (Luis Crespo) are more Keystone Kops comedy than a meeting of minds, and his love affair with poet Beatrice Hastings (Maria Stephens) is reduced to a series of brawls. The cast attempts toinject some humanity and balance in the characters. But the script gradually whips them into a frenzy of self-destruction.”
Lawrence Bommer, Free Press—“Though it spreads itself thin in order to cover the breakdowns of three self-destructive artists, McIntyre’s sketchy script conveys their mutual disintegration, poignantly underlining the plight of those who pursue their vision in the dark… Kathy Scambiaterra’s staging is serviceable but uninspired, reinforcing rather than undermining McIntyre’s easy depiction of Montparnasse misfits rebels as loudmouthed louts who drunkenly destroy their work more than their enemies ever could. At the same time the cast seem too unfledged and clean-cut to pass for down-and-outers.”
Slaphappy, Beat the Jester Productions
Tony Adler, Reader—“On the one hand, [Gary] Slezak is good at writing wry, dry one-liners, and the cast of this Beat the Jester production are mostly good at delivering them—especially Judy Blue as a tippling American divorcee and Lucas Neff as a Parisian bellhop with sidelines in therapy and terrorism. But on the other, both Slezak and director Richard Shavzin seem to think the rules of conventional behavior are suspended in a farce, when just the opposite is true: it’s the tension between scrupulously observed etiquette and crazy events that makes farce funny.”
Zac Thompson, Time Out—“As No'l Coward proved time and again, a successful romantic comedy requires only three things: lovers clearly meant for each other, enough obstacles to keep them apart until the last scene and a playwright who makes it all look easy. Slezak’s new romcom meets the first requirement and exceeds the second (obstacles proliferate to the point of becoming a nuisance), but the play falls somewhat short of the third… Thankfully, director Shavzin maintains a light touch even when the writing gets clunky. Briskly paced and breezily acted, his production is as staunchly, effortlessly insubstantial as it should be. Pity the same can’t be said of the script.”
Brian Kirst, Free Press—“Indeed, director Richard Shavzin ultimately brings out the Doris Day fizziness and sensuality inherent in the piece and his moments of physical comedy are well thought out and beautifully delivered. Shavzin also guides his cast into bringing out the frothy hilarity in many of Slezak’s lines. It is Richard and Jacqueline Penrod’s glamorous set that almost steals the show, though. With a dazzling, amazingly realistic balcony commanding the eyes, center stage, the Penrods create an environment of complete truth and resplendent frill.”
Mary Shen Barnidge, Free Press—“Director Richard Shavzin and his cast also exhibit the skills necessary to playing this brand of fast-paced mayhem in the restricted quarters of Theatre Building Chicago’s south stage, scrambling over Richard and Jacqueline Penrod’s art-nouveau-on-a-budget suite (three doors and a curtained balcony) with unflagging energy, agility and enough charm to make us wish for a happy resolution to their difficulties. Whether Slaphappy can repeat the success of the glitzier Don’t Dress For Dinner remains to be seen, but in these grim times, its generous optimism and universal hope for reconciliation should appeal to the same audiences.”