5-8-09
Talk Radio Good, But Relevant?
I can already tell I’m going to write one of those reviews that, when I’m on the other side of the table as a producer or artist, would piss me off.
And that’s because it has less to do with the production I saw—Eric Bogosian’s Talk Radio at The Gift—then it does with Chicago theatre in general.
But first things first: if you have never seen Bogosian’s work, or like his work a lot and want to see this particular play, The Gift’s production is certainly worth seeing. Director Maureen Payne-Hahner has assembled a credible cast of radio employees and callers, particularly Paul D’Addario as shock jock Barry Champlain and John Kelly Connolly as his executive producer Dan Woodruff. Courtney O’Neill makes great use of the claustrophobic Gift space in her radio studio design. It’s a very decent production. I don’t know that this production brings anything new to the play, but again, if you haven’t seen this play before, The Gift is serving it well.
But why are they serving it at all?
Here’s the part that’s unfair to the folks at The Gift. Because they do, on occasion, do work that should be seen. Work that’s new to Chicago audiences. Work that’s contemporary and important and entertaining all at once. After all, if you’ve only got 40-odd seats to fill, surely you’re in a position to take a chance on those plays.
But that’s not Talk Radio. And there’s a lot of theatre programming going on in small theatres across Chicago that’s like it: good productions of existing plays that don’t push the envelope at all. And, unfortunately, many critics reward those productions. But for my money, that sort of offering has to be exceptional to be worthwhile. Writers’ recent production of Clifford Odets’ Rocket to the Moon fit that exceptional category. Of course, we never know, when we choose to produce a show, whether that spark will emerge. If we did, we’d all be producing big commercial shows and no one would talk about whether theatre was relevant.
In the meantime, shouldn’t we be trying to demonstrate why theatre remains relevant? And isn’t at least part of that process doing work that either pushes theatre in interesting directions or tells stories that are particularly resonant today? Bogosian is a master at capturing a particular mindset at a particular time. And while Talk Radio still features problems that are relevant today (after all Howard Stern remains a cultural force), the main character has become a stereotype. And that makes this story unsatisfying, because we feel like, even if we haven’t seen this particular play before, we’ve seen it. Self-destructive but talented radio jock. Got it.
And just to reiterate, because this is the review written by your friend who came to see the show, and I hate hate HATE having to ever say negative things about an industry, an art form and artists whom I respect, admire and love, it is completely unfair of me to anchor this discussion in The Gift’s work. They do a lot of good stuff and a lot of work that fits what I’m calling for above. But as we all struggle through a difficult time for the country and our art form, as we are forced time and again to persuade people with power and money that theatre in particular and the arts in general are essential to our life as a nation, as we try to walk the line between institutionalizing and being artists, we need to keep asking: Why should anyone care what we do? And if you can answer that question well, you’re in good shape.
Talk Radio, The Gift Theatre
Nina Metz, Tribune—“Bogosian originated the role onstage and in the 1988 film; D’Addario’s energy is sweatier and more desperate. I liked it. Sometimes physiological things happen that an actor can’t control, and in the close confines of the theater you can clearly see a serpentine vein making its way down the left side of D’Addario’s forehead, as if to suggest an aneurysm is not far off. Directed by Maureen Payne Hahner, the production sags in spots, a problem I think will sort itself out as the run progresses. There’s no smoking, but you still get a feel for the ‘good old days’ before corporate policies made such things as booze and girlie magazines verboten in the workplace.”
Laura Molzahn, Reader—“Late-night Cleveland shock jock Barry Champlain is sadistic, manipulative, insecure, self-destructive, isolated, and all too often right about the world. He should blow in with the force of a hurricane. But in the Gift Theatre’s revival he’s mostly just unpleasant…In Maureen Payne Hahner’s competent production, Paul D’Addario is caustic and intense, but also disconcertingly analytical as Barry. He never feels like a threat, and as a result the play stalls, coming across as a dated commentary on late-80s American culture. It needs more of the lurching, crazy-ass energy Lucas Neff provides as Barry’s goofball teenage fan and rival.”
Zac Thompson, Time Out—“Fortunately, director Payne-Hahner has D’Addario, who matches the coarseness, irony and verbal dexterity of Bogosian’s original interpretation of Barry (preserved in Oliver Stone’s film version) but brings a surprisingly effective edge of steely menace in place of Bogosian’s volatility. This makes Barry’s final breakdown somewhat unconvincing, but D’Addario is never less than riveting. It’s a good thing, too, because [Lucas] Neff—vulnerable but frightening in the throwaway role of an obsessed young fan—would otherwise come very close to stealing the show.”
Mary Poppins, Broadway in Chicago
Chris Jones, Tribune—“The show has been designed to fit a variety of theaters and it does not take advantage of all the space at the Cadillac Palace. There were also small technical problems on opening night that blew some transitions. That said, you’re still getting a very big and aesthetically pleasing show for your money, replete with a large cast, all the famous flying (kites, nanny), Bert’s show-stopping dance around the proscenium, and enough cool scenic tricks that most kids as young as 7 or 8 will remain engrossed.”
Laura Molzahn, Reader—“The real star of this moneymaker is the middle-class nuclear family: Disney’s 2006 stage version of its 1964 movie musical makes magical nanny Mary Poppins just one of many underlings who help the dysfunctional Bankses get on the road to recovery. Though the spectacle, dance, and singing give good value, most of the wit of P.L. Travers’s Poppins books—based in delight in nonsense—has been excised. And five new songs render the show even less faithful…The barbs of the books’ tart, disapproving, wildly imaginative, and funny nanny have been replaced with the ho-hum psychology of an ordinary family.”
Christopher Piatt, Time Out—“As usual, Disney would prefer the stage technology do the work rather than the actors—actors, after all, run the dangerous risk of changing from night to night—but Poppins’ female performers still manage to transcend the often extraneous stage-CGI. (I loved both sinister Ellen Harvey as a bad-cop nanny and Valerie Boyle as a fusty cook, while prim, golden-throated Brown makes hay of the title role.) If you can’t afford it right now, the words of Disney trickster-god Jiminy Cricket cascade to mind: Let your conscience be your guide.”
Dennis Polkow, New City—“I don’t know what kind of hazard pay these stars are receiving and what kind of insurance is in place, but whatever it is, it’s not enough. And these are just highlights of the wonders to be experienced and savored during what is a surprisingly and refreshingly enchanting family show that, like the wondrous nanny herself, really does turn out to be practically perfect in every way.”
Web Behrens, Free Press—“It’s odd to be so entertained by a musical with such mediocre music. The recycled score includes that tedious ‘Feed the Birds’ and the simplistic ‘Let’s Go Fly a Kite’; even the catchiest Sherman-brothers songs won’t ever rank among Broadway’s best, and the new tunes are mostly forgettable. Yet the dazzling visuals and a uniformly talented ensemble whisk us merrily along: Ashley Brown in the title role and Gavin Lee as Bert anchor a whiz-bang cast. The most significant departure to the movie adds a nanny nemesis from the P.L. Travers books; played with wicked glee by Ellen Harvey, she engages in a fantastic coloratura duel with the Poppins.”
Mary Shen Barnidge, Windy City—“[J]ust as, decades ago, the Disney film did everything movies did best to engage our imaginations, so does the Disney play extend itself to deliver all the magic offered by modern stage technology…For diehard nostalgists, there are the familiar Sherman Brothers’ songs, along with new material composed by George Stiles and Anthony Drewe…At the helm is Ashley Brown, in a consummate blend of candor, command and compassion, assisted by Gavin Lee, who wins us over immediately as the mercurial Bert.”
Our Father, Seanachai Theatre Co.
Kerry Reid, Reader—“Seanachai Theatre Company has hitched itself to a crowd-pleasing, pub-friendly show, and the cast has a ball with the pseudo-Joycean repetitions and scatological ruminations in Stephens’s dialogue. But it’s all pretty familiar stuff, even if descriptions of the old man’s green teeth, micturitions, and final end (‘on the floor, reeking of liquor and onions’) do elicit laughs. This is the Irish equivalent of a Tyler Perry family comedy, and those allergic to Paddy whackery should stay away.”
Red Noses, Strawdog Theatre Company
Nina Metz, Tribune—“Iffy subject matter aside, Red Noses may be one of the best productions of the year so far. Seriously. Director Matt Hawkins is working at the top of his game with a show that easily melds top 40 tunes, real emotion and laughter at the lip’s edge of a grave…There’s a playground sensibility at work here, and an impressive display of speed and style. The plague is color-coded in a gooey yellow, and the costumes from Aly Renee Greaves mix street clothes and witty non sequiturs: monks appear in fleece hoodies.”
Leon Hilton, Reader—“Matt Hawkins has directed Peter Barnes’s 1985 comedy—about a 14th-century French monk who forms a clown troupe during the Black Plague—in the cheerfully manic style of the House Theater of Chicago, of which he’s a founding member. Sometimes the House’s preppy sincerity makes me want to hurl my playbill at the stage, but in this case it works freakishly well. Hawkins has stripped things down so that the show becomes a kind of communal happening.”
Kris Vire, Time Out—“Hawkins’s 18-actor production makes great use of both the Strawdog ensemble and vets of the House, Factory, Hypocrites and other storefront stalwarts; it’s possibly the canniest assemblage of Off Loop talent since last year’s Hypocrites Our Town. Punctuated by cheekily co-opted renditions of ’80s tunes by the likes of Billy Joel and the Outfield (credit arranger Mike Przygoda and the self-accompanying cast) and featuring Aly Rene Graves’s astute modern-dress costumes, Red Noses is a major achievement for Hawkins.”
Lisa Buscani, New City—“Director Matt Hawkins’ staging keeps the show clipping along, peppering the tough text with eye-catching visual metaphor and anachronistic yet apropos 1980s pop tunes. The multi-talented ensemble has the singing and comedy chops the show requires; standouts include Shannon Hoag who sings, plays the cello and makes her character’s loneliness and fear palpable.”
Web Behrens, Free Press—“What a treat to watch this tight 23-person cast at complete ease with their challenging material, riffing off each other even as the tone constantly shifts from silly to dark to inspirational. Milking knowingly bad jokes, harmonizing striking covers of ’80s pop-rock, evangelizing about the meaning of life in the face of imminent death—they do it all, with winning results. Fertilizing their onstage craft is Hawkins’ ace production team, providing (in particular) the sharp color scheme in the set and props, and fabulously motley costumes. The resulting enthusiastic tide carries the audience along with its ebullient artists. It’s rare indeed to find a show packed with gallows humor that doesn’t trivialize death, yet leaves everyone smiling.”
Jonathan Abarbanel, Windy City—“Stephen Taylor’s martini-dry, razor-sharp Pope Clement is a joy. John Ferrick’s kindly and sympathetic Flote is a blessing. Sarah Goeden’s ethereal Sonnerie is radiant, wordlessly speaking the language of angels. And the clowns really are funny, among them blind juggler Anderson Lawfer and lanky assistant Andrew Trygstad. And the collective cast joyously takes up instruments as a jug band. Despite lacking impressive spectacle elements, this is engagingly theatrical theater.”