Displaying items by tag: Mark Montgomery

White Rooster arrives at Lookingglass Theatre with the kind of wild, genre‑bending confidence that reminds you why this ensemble has always been one of Chicago’s most inventive storytellers. Ensemble member Matthew C. Yee - doubling as writer and director - conjures a darkly funny, legend-steeped ghost story that feels mischievously modern in this world‑premiere production. What begins as a family tale rooted in early‑1900s China unfurls into a surreal, music‑laced journey through a spirit-ridden American town of gold prospectors, where the living and the dead negotiate unfinished business with equal parts tenderness and absurdity.

That sense of slipping between worlds is echoed the moment you enter the space. For two gripping hours, the audience is submerged into a mysterious, rickety mining town - red light seeping through the floorboards as white, flowing curtains above and below the attic sensually breathe with every spectral draft. A mine entrance sits just below the stage; a shadowy passage characters slip into when needed to dig deeply for gold - and climb back out only if they are fortunate. 

The theatre is arranged in a bold, innovative configuration that feels unmistakably Lookingglass, and once the lights go down, our surroundings tilt sideways. White Rooster summons a realm of folklore and restless spirits in a spellbound theatrical storm. There isn’t a bad seat in the intimate Lookingglass house.

Yee’s setting brilliantly blends Chinese mythology with timeworn Americana, woven together through Lookingglass’ trademark physicality and vivid visual artistry. Lookingglass builds a set that’s equal parts dusty ghost town and drifting dreamscape, all weathered wood, shifting platforms, and shadow‑hungry corners. Nothing stays still for long. Cloth walls slide softly across the room, lighting tricks the eye into seeing motion, and the entire environment reacts to the characters’ emotional temperature - as if the town itself is leaning in to listen.

The tone in White Rooster swings delightfully between eerie and, at times, hilarious – a fiancé who won’t stay dead, a sister who won’t stay buried, and a rooster whose presence is as oddly ominous as it is absurd. The stage is set for a journey that feels truly singular, a ride unlike anything else audiences will encounter.

Karen Aldridge in Lookingglass' White Rooster. Photo by Justin Barbin.

The story centers on Min (finely played by Sunnie Eraso), a young woman desperate to outrun her past, only to discover that the past travels fast - especially when it’s carrying old curses, stubborn spirits, and grief that refuses to stay buried. As the spirit world starts calling to her, we’re left wondering whether she’ll remain among the living or cross over to the dead.

Min stands at the center of White Rooster like a live wire - restless and, at the same time, determined. I feel that through her, the story becomes something of a tug‑of‑war between who we were raised to be and who we’re trying desperately to become. And every time Min thinks she’s found solid ground, the environment around her shifts - sometimes literally - reminding her that souls from the past don’t just haunt; they negotiate, bargain, and occasionally throw a tantrum in grand fashion.

Maria (fiercely played by Karen Aldridge) and John (vibrantly inhabited by Mark Montgomery) are Min’s parents and June (Noelle Oh – bravo!) her sister. Together they orbit Min with the gravitational pull of family - comforting one moment, complicating everything the next. Maria brings the ancestral weight, the traditions and expectations that shape the supernatural rules of this world – and she can tell a mean ghost story.

Reilly Oh is outstanding as Pong, a mythic wildcard who brings humor, mystery, and a touch of the uncanny. Pong is the character who reminds you that in this universe, what lies beyond the veil isn’t just a threat - it’s a personality, a mood, a powerful force with its own agenda. He and Min develop real, and complicated, feelings for each other, until an unexpected twist shifts the story’s course and ushers the white rooster into a central role.

Through it all, Pong’s parents Judy (Louise Lamson) and Hao (Daniel Lee Smith) are a strong support system for both Min and their son. Their performances, full of humor and tenderness, add texture and tension - the sort of familial presence that renders grief both intimate and unwieldy. In the meantime, June, Min’s ethereal sister residing in the attic, expands the emotional landscape. She gives Min someone who reflects the stakes of staying connected even when everything inside her screams to run. Together, they form a constellation of women whose histories overlap, collide, and echo through the dust of this otherworldly settlement. And in a twist that complicates everything, June’s heart belongs to the version of Pong that no longer exists. Blink and you’ll miss something; the play keeps unfolding in unexpected ways.

Fang, a medicine man and Wu are played by Elliot Esquivel through April 5^th and Nik Kmiecik April 8^th-26^th. The two slip between identities with the fluidity of spirits who’ve long stopped caring about the boundary between the living and the dead. They capture the play’s obsession with inheritance - what we cling to, what we hide away, and what keeps clawing back to the surface no matter how deeply it’s buried. In the process, Esquivel scores a generous share of genuine laugh‑out‑loud moments.

Together, this ensemble of characters creates an atmosphere that’s sinister, hilarious, and deeply human, the kind of emotional tapestry that Lookingglass loves to unravel right in front of you. Though Yee’s approach is thematic rather than didactic, he offers no crystal‑clear moral - instead, June, Min’s spectral sister, delivers the closest thing to one: a deep, aching hunger for something she can’t find, especially heard in the way she screams “I’m hungry! I’m hungry!” It’s a hunger shared by every ghost drifting through this world or the next.

(from left) Noelle Oh, Reilly Oh, Sunnie Eraso in White Rooster at Lookingglass Theatre. Photo by Juston Barbin.

Ghost stories flare to life throughout the play by various characters - crisp, vivid, and wickedly staged - sending me right back to those childhood nights when one good scare made you latch onto the nearest friend. And, like a haunted house, the set and effects amplify it all, bringing this shadow-touched world to life with real ingenuity. Layered with White Rooster’s puppetry, which moves like a shared heartbeat - one force sculpting the landscape, the other lending its phantoms their physical form - the result feels kinetic in the eeriest way.

Yes, the puppetry slips right into this dimension, never as a gimmick but as the show’s beating heart of paranormal logic. From shadow‑puppeted silhouettes rippling across illuminated draperies to Dave and his scene‑stealing pet pig to the white rooster that becomes its own mythic force, the blend of object manipulation and visual animation is an imaginative jolt that feels handcrafted and otherworldly at the same time. Together, the set and puppets create a realm that feels porous and alive, the kind of roguish, immersive ecosystem where even the furniture seems menacingly capable of waking up. 

This haunted domain comes to life through the combined minds of Natsu Onoda Power (scenery), Mara Blumenfeld (costumes), Hannah Wien (lighting), Justin Cavazos (sound and score), Amanda Herrmann (props), and Caitlin McLeod (puppets). Their contributions braid together - darkness blooming, objects murmuring, fabrics holding memory - until the world feels less crafted than conjured. The result is a creation that’s tactile, mischievous and emotionally grounded even as it spirals into folklore‑fueled madness. Lookingglass completely immerses us in the supernatural.

Says Artistic Director Kasey Foster on Yee’s offering, “White Rooster has been a thrilling ride from its very first conception in 2020. Matt chooses unique stories to tell, entirely original and fresh, and in his debut role as Director at Lookingglass, he has brought that same originality and "cool" to the staging and design of White Rooster.”

And ‘cool’ is right, with cast members trading off on electric guitar - distortion blazing and ominous percussion driving the suspense. The show’s mix of humor and heartbreak, along with its inventive staging, makes it feel unmistakably like a Lookingglass premiere: collaborative, imaginative, and rooted in personal storytelling.

During the opening night festivities, I chatted briefly with co‑founder and board member David Schwimmer, who was clearly thrilled to discuss the theatre’s refreshed, reimagined space. Lookingglass Theatre’s recent renovation marks a striking reinvention of its public presence. The historic Pumping Station now opens directly onto Michigan Avenue, leading into a bright, flexible lobby that doubles as a café, gathering space, and creative hub. Modular seating, projection surfaces, and expanded rehearsal and education areas turn the venue into an all‑day destination, while warm touches - from celestial‑inspired terrazzo floors to an amber “lantern” box office - give the space its signature glow. More than a facelift, the redesign reshapes how Lookingglass engages its community, creating a welcoming, versatile home for its imaginative spirit.

In the end, in this recently renovated theatre and with this world premiere, White Rooster heralds Matthew C. Yee as a rising playwright‑director with a gift for weaving myth, humor, and heartbreak into something wholly new.

Highly recommended.

White Rooster runs at Lookingglass through April 26, 2026, with performances most Wednesdays through Saturdays at 7:30 p.m. and select matinees at 2:00 p.m. on Thursdays, Saturdays, and Sundays. Tickets through the Lookingglass box office start at $33, while Hot Tix lists discounted seats in the $51–$62 range, and select Lookingglass Class events offer pay‑what‑you‑can options. The run also features several special performances, including Folklore Day on March 22 at 2:00 p.m., a mask‑required show on March 25 at 7:30 p.m., open captioning on April 3 at 7:30 p.m., and AAPI Night on April 9 at 7:30 p.m. For tickets and/or more information, click here.

This review is proudly shared with our friends at www.TheatreInChicago.com. 

When life’s chaos is full of impossible choices, how are we possibly meant to move forward?

Brooklyn Laundry is about a lot of things. There’s love. There’s heartbreak. There’s family, and there’s grief. However, at its center, you might find that the play boils down to the central question above. Playwright John Patrick Shanley may not offer the answer, but he certainly invites a conversation.

Brooklyn Laundry follows Fran (Cassidy Slaughter-Mason) - a young woman who meets business owner Owen (Mark Montgomery) upon dropping off her laundry at his dry cleaners. By chance they meet, and Owen ask her out for dinner. Fran is touched, and ultimately says yes. However, life is rarely as it seems, and Fran is navigating far more than a recent breakup. With one sister, Trish (Marika Mashburn), suffering from cancer and her other sister, Susie (Sandra Delgado), battling her own health challenges, Fran finds herself drowning in the middle – unsure of how to proceed.

Directed by Northlight Artistic Director BJ Jones, the production features a stellar ensemble as a whole. Mashburn and Delgado may only have one scene each, but the emotional depth they bring into these moments is enough to make them stand out. Delgado in particular gives a heartbreaking performance as Susie and certainly does not hold back. The character’s high-strung tendencies are likely to feel relatable to the older siblings in the audience, as well as the devastating blow when we see her pushed too far, and the true feelings beneath simply have to bubble over.  

Slaughter-Mason and Montgomery fill the blooming relationship at the center of the story with charm and if you’re anything like this writer, you may find yourself leaning in – hoping they succeed.

Fran and Owen’s first date is full of that awkward energy that so many audience members will recognize. From the moment that Fran walks into the restaurant, it’s clear that nothing will quite go as expected. At the surprising realization that she is completely high, Owen offers to take some of the drugs alongside her to even the playing field. As the effects settle in, the two embark on a conversation around intimacy that completely changes the tone around the evening.

The stage is empty except for the couple, allowing us as an audience to fully absorb the moment. Slaughter-Mason and Montgomery fill this scene with empathy and relatability. Laughter and gasps from the Opening Night audience filled the theater at the beginning of the date; however, as the scene moved along, pure silence took over. The shift in mood made it clear that this writer was not alone in her feeling that Slaughter-Mason and Montgomery certainly knew how to win over the crowd.

Shanley’s script is fast-paced and strong. Fran’s journey as a whole is far from easy, and Shanley smartly includes a mix of fun, light-hearted romantic scenes to break up the larger, heavier trajectory of the character’s arc. If anything, you might find that the script is too short. This 80-minute play is packed from beginning to end, and I personally found myself surprised when the lights came down at the end.

Stand-out performances and a gut-wrenching (yet at times comedic) story make Brooklyn Laundry an emotional roller coaster from start to finish. Modern-day romances rarely follow the path of a romantic comedy, and Shanley offers a window into the nuances that can hopefully lead to something stronger on the other side.

RECOMMENDED

Brooklyn Laundry runs through May 12, 2024 at Northlight Theatre - 9501 Skokie Boulevard.

We first meet Clea as she traipses into the great room of a sky-high Manhattan penthouse, enraptured by the “surreal” view. Looking on disdainfully are Charlie (Mark Montgomery), an actor who has been struggling to get cast lately, and his wing-man Lewis (La Shawn Banks).

In the world of theater, a gushing ingénue making a breathless entrance is something that has been seen before, to put it mildly. Charlie for one is not impressed. 

In short order, though, we sense there may be more to this young woman, and these men, than first appears. As it happens, the party is in the home of an actor-writer on the rise, and his older, wealthy patron. Charlie is there hoping to rub shoulders with him, and maybe get a role in his new production.

Clea (Deanna Myers blazes in the role) is on a similar mission – though at this point in her career she is less certain about how things will play out. She is also a font of inanity – “Food is, like, disgusting to me,” she avers, claiming never to eat. “Most things people put in their mouths, it is totally just like eating death. Someone proved that eating is killing people." 

Charlie and Lewis are agape at Clea. Charlie clearly finds her exaggerated pronouncements aversive, while Lewis nods and puts on about the phoniest show of interest imaginable - miming that attraction men sometimes feel despite (or perhaps because of) knowing better.  

Poured into snug-fitting couture and clearly master of her heels, Clea reads, accurately, the mocking tone in Charlie’s desultory conversation. When he asks her how the view can be “surreal,” sparks begin to fly in what turns out to be a harbinger of later romance.   

This is also the first inkling we have that Clea is more femme fatale than ingénue.  She vacillates from helpless to heated. In due course, she reveals a grab-bag of information about herself, and observations on life in general. Her mother is an alcoholic, so she doesn’t drink. People are just not "awake" to life.  

She has recently arrived from Ohio hoping to make her break in New York. She eventually asks for that vodka – just this one time – and becomes even more voluble. Clea reveals she has applied for a position on a television production team – and does a send-up of the woman who interviewed her, describing a “Nazi priestess” of talent bookings, by the name of Stella. As it turns out, Stella is Charlie’s wife - and fatefully, the unrequited love of Lewis.

Clea came there intent on making an impression. And oh she does in Meyers’s super-charged performance. In later scenes, after she has vanquished Lewis, she moves on to seduce Charlie, ultimately triggering his downfall by overstaying a tryst - so the two get caught by Stella.

Charlie eventually ends up on the street, having cast aside his stable life with Stella. (The story line draws on Waugh's of Human Bondage, according to playwright Therese Rebeck.)

The couple was about to adopt a child. Perhaps the prospect of parenthood was too great a strain on Charlie. Fear of parenthood is a classic romance killer, but under Kimberly Seniors direction we are witness to Charlie's action, but not his motivation. Stella also is a bit of a caricature, slipping into Spanish when her blood gets boiling.  Lewis, meanwhile, has played this marriage's third wheel from the opening scene, defending Stella against critiques. The trio has a reasonable chemistry in scenes, but Stella seems overplayed, and Lewis underplayed when they are alone together. 

As to Clea: Viper? Seductress? Ingénue? Trollop? Those old-fashioned words don’t quite apply, as Clea owns her sexuality, and is aware of where she is heading. She seems at once incisive, and empty-headed.

“How can you know so much and so little at the same time?” as Charlie asks.

Waugh’s classic, Of Human Bondage, was filmed three times. And The Scene was also made into a movie - Seducing Charlie Barker. 

In The Scene, the eventual affair with Clea leads to Charlie’s downfall, and his wife Stella’s departure, among other things. While the performance by Myers is captivating, and the chemistry between Stella (Charin Alvarez), Lewis and Charlie is convincing, I struggled to find empathy with anyone other than Clea – a rather villainous protagonist.

The glass and steel set is striking, and works really well through all the scenes. The furnishings were dead on, very Blue Dot Catalog. Likewise the costumes, down to the men's shoes.  Brian Sidney Bembridge did sets;  Nan Zabriskie costume; Sarah Hughey, lighting; Richard Woodbury, original music and sound design; and Scott Dickens handled props. 

Running through April 2 at the Writers Theatre in Glencoe, Illinois, The Scene comes recommended, especially to see Deanna Myers.

Northlight Theatre follows up the hard-hitting drama “White Guy on the Bus” with another extra-base hit with the charming comedy "Outside Mullinger". Set in the Midlands of Ireland, Artistic Director BJ Jones directs this humorous love story that, though mostly transparent in its direction, offers a handful of fun surprises. Outside Mullinger is written by Pulitzer, Oscar and Tony Award Winning author John Patrick Shanley (Moonstruck and Doubt). Needless to say, Shanley has done it again.

“Having survived to my 60^th year, I wanted to express joy,” says Shanley on writing Outside Mullinger. “I wanted to laugh, I wanted to name what is possible and beautiful about being alive.”

Set in the Midlands of Ireland we are introduced to two families that own neighboring farms that have been handed down for generations. Though Anthony and Rosemary have been neighbors for years, the two have secretly longed for each other, neither one the wiser. Despite the fact that they are somewhat outwardly gruff with each other, we see an underlying affection that is just dying to bust out. When Rosemary learns that Anthony's father "Tony Reilly" might not leave him the farm, she intercedes, changing paths in the process and ultimately creating new opportunities to express suppressed feelings.

The story is well written but its very talented cast is what truly makes this show a memorable delicacy. Acting and writing great Bill Norris is simply superb as "Tony Reilly", skillfully dishing out his lines with seasoned prowess and a profound candidness. Mark Montgomery is also right on mark and is highly likeable as Anthony and Kate Fry shines brightly with her razor sharp delivery and unbridled conviction as Rosemary. The chemistry and banter between Montgomery and Fry is nothing short of convincing, making the story as believable as it is cute and funny. Also contributing to the story’s sincerity is a rotating set that switches from one realistic farmhouse kitchen to another.   

If you want a love story with just the right amount of laughs, challenges, tenderness and emotional depth, Outside Mullinger is a play with quick-witted and heartfelt dialogue that will certainly be enjoyed.

Outside Mullinger is being performed at Northlight Theatre through April 19th. Northlight Theatre is located at 9501 Skokie Boulevard in Skokie. For tickets and/or more show information, visit www.northlight.org.