Displaying items by tag: Musical theatre

Like most things in our lives, what once was old can be new again (looking at you wannabe fanny packs). But some things can stand the test of time and find a resurgence, not to be duplicated but merely rediscovered by a new generation. A Chorus Line, now playing at the Drury Theatre, is just the thing that proves that, without duplication or manipulation, the themes exuded throughout the musical and its numbers speak across generations and stand the test of time and political correctness.

In A Chorus Line, hundreds of hopefuls congregate at a cattle call for Broadway dancers. A sour director and his assistant whittle down the ranks until they're left with 16 dancers (“head up, headband!”). All tell their life stories -- some tragic, some comic -- and explain their love of dance. Tension mounts when Cassie, once both a big star and the director's lover but now desperate for a part, auditions. But Zach must choose only the best for his show.

So what is it about A Chorus Line that gives it such staying power?

Maybe it’s the relateability of putting yourself on the line; working for years and years for a single moment, a single audition. The opening sequence of the musical “I Hope I Get It,” performed by the ensemble cast, brings the audience into the electrifying, heartpounding, anxiety-inducing audition. Aren't we all auditioning for the chorus? From job interviews to dating, we are always putting our best foot forward hoping against all the odds someone chooses us. We can prepare for years, memorize the steps, not miss a single beat, and still not get the part. With each hopeful cast member singing “I really need this job. Please God, I need this job. I've got to get this job,” resonates throughout the audience, and hits hard no matter the decade.

Perhaps it's the theme of understanding where you have come from to accept where you are today, no matter your background. As Zach interviews the cast, we begin to learn about the backgrounds of each hopeful auditioner, as they recall hilarious experiences and share embarrassing details such as “I really couldn't – Sing! I could never really – Sing! What I couldn't do was– Sing!” While recounting where they were, we learn that everyone on that stage dreamed of something bigger than them and we see an homage to youth and overcoming those awkward and challening years with "Hello twelve, hello thirteen, hello love!” Nostaligia can be sweet and innocent or bitter and sad, but they are our formative years. The number really highlights the humor, awkwardness, and tribulations of youth and celebrates it as the necessary path toward becoming who we are today.

It could be the relatability of fighting imposter syndrome, believing that you aren’t good enough. Or when we’re slowly unmasking, realizing you were being encouraged andpushed towards a life and dream that you didn’t really want. When Cassie takes the stage and expresses her only love was not to be a star but to dance, and as she dances her heart out in “The Music and the Mirror” we feel every kick, every headsnap, every spirit finger of emotion. For a single moment we’re all Cassie, wanting to just do what we love without fear, or judgement, or interpretation. To just dance and be allowed the freedom and autonomy to do just that.

For me, it’s the simple honesty of knowing that you tried; regardless of the outcome and if you never truly make it, at least you put yourself out there, and tried. “What I Did for Love” is the perfect balance of bittersweet gratitude, not regretting what you did in pursuit of a dream. It’s this theme that is the most prominent throughout the musical from the opening audition to the closing, glittering kick line.

Drury Lane is quickly becoming my favorite theatre in the Chicagoland area. It continues to deliver incredible performances under the glittering chandeliers of their venue and their 2023 line up is sure to draw even more suburban theater goers to Oak Brook instead of Chicago. A Chorus Line runs through March 19th, get your tickets today at https://drurylanetheatre.com/a-chorus-line/.

When I was in college, a roommate shared their obsession with a Christmas movie I had never seen, the 2003 Will Ferrell film Elf. Over the next few years, she would religiously play Elf on replay during each fall semester with proclamations it was the perfect "it’s the perfect cozy weather” movie, to “it's almost the holiday season" movie, followed by "let's kick off the holiday season" movie, until it was the inevitable "It's Christmas!" movie. Upon graduation, I was Elf-d out and the film eventually made way for other holiday classics like Die Hard. As Elf approaches its 20th anniversary, it found it’s unlikely way back into our holiday shuffle, migrating from the movie to the stage. Elf-the Musical brought Christmas early to Chicagoland.

From the minute you enter the lavish and sparkling Drury Theatre, you are taken into another world. People here are smiling, shiny, welcoming, and prone to breaking into spontaneous song and dance; and those are just the theatre guests! Elf-the Musical draws nostalgic millennials, rosy cheeked children, musical theatre lovers, and theatre supporters alike to this soon-to-be holiday stage classic. Elf-the Musical follows the story of Buddy the Elf, who after discovering he is really a human raised as an elf, makes the journey from the North Pole to New York City to find his birth father, sharing the true meaning of Christmas along the way. Based on the hit holiday film, Elf- the Musical brings heart, hilarity, and holiday joy.

Admittedly, I was not particularly in the holiday mood, as my Elf PTSD was still strong. But I challenge anyone to not crack a smile with the opening musical number of “Happy all the Time” performed by Santa, played by A.D. Weaver, and Buddy, played by Jake Morrissy, along with the hilarious ensemble cast. As the musical progressed, the familiar story came to life in a new way, with clever dialogue sprinkled with double entendres and fantastic recreations of the Elf storyline with musical numbers like “Sparklejollytwinklejingley” performed while Buddy and the cast members decorate the department store for Santa’s arrival. There were beautiful songs like “A Christmas Song” where Buddy’s reluctant Christmas-hating love interest Jovie, played by the incomparable Juanita Anderson finds Christmas cheer by signing loud for all to hear. There are also sweet surprises like the number “I believe in you” wear Emily Hobbs, played by Melodie A Betts, and Michael Hobbs, played by Gabriel Solis, a Christmas letter to Santa asking nothing more than the attention of a father and husband, Buddy’s dad Walter, played by Sean Fortunato. 

Why Elf of all the holiday movie options? I think Elf-the Musical Director Lynne Kurdziep Formatp says it best "after two full Christmas Holidays missed due to COVID pandemic, with inflation, hurricanes and war in the news on a daily basis, it seems the PERFECT time to be reminded that we need to continue to BELIEVE. We can be a light in the world by sustaining the Christmas spirit year-round as we remember that family, friends, people of all ages and backgrounds are what makes the world go round."

This Christmas, and future holiday seasons, will have families, musical theatre, and holiday lovers flocking to the theatre with this soon-to-be holiday favorite. Because even after nearly 20 years, the classic story of Buddy the Elf brought to the stage truly captures the holiday spirit; and perhaps this musical proves Buddy and Santa’s elves are right, that “the best way to spread Christmas cheer is singing loud for all to hear.” Elf the Musical is playing at the Drury Theatre in Oakbrook through January 8, 2023. Tickets are available at www.drurylanetheatre.com.

I’m not sure how long this honeymoon feeling of returning to life as a theatergoer will last. That butterflies-in-the-belly, waiting-for-the-lights-to-go-out feeling just before the show starts. Right now, I tell myself that it’ll last forever. That I’ll never take for granted what I was—and all of you lovers of a good show done well were—lucky enough to enjoy until the past two years. That I’ll watch every show like it could be my last. Who knows if this feeling will last? I hope it does.

But I’ll tell you what…the cast and crew of Marriott Theatre’s West Side Story are putting on a production that shows that us theatergoers weren’t the only ones itching to get back to it, putting on a show like it could be their last.

That the production is Leonard Bernstein’s classic was a great choice. Its content, while still thought-provoking and fitting for our fractured world all these decades later, is also well-known, proven, comforting. We know what to expect, the cast and crew know what to do, and then we all hope it goes according to script.

It does here. The two leads, Lauren Maria Medina as Maria and Jake David Smith as Tony, are both very talented vocalists, comfortable with the challenging melodies Bernstein gives them. They play their parts, they sing their songs, they live their lives, as the Maria and Tony we as the audience want.

The roles of Anita and Bernardo, of course, won best supporting Oscars for the 1961 film version, and here they are filled by Vanessa Aurora Sierra and Gary Cooper. Sierra captured my attention whenever she was onstage, bringing not just the passion the role calls for but a real joy, too. Gary Cooper (that name!) brought physicality to Bernardo and the fight scenes, but matched Sierra in having that extra presence, too.

The ensemble—a highlight is the Shark Girls led by Sierra in a rousing, syncopated “America”—pulls off stunning dance numbers and tightly choreographed fight scenes, and does them well. And, like the four actors mentioned above, they give each of them that little something extra, that little bit of joy that just makes this a production to see and enjoy.

Because, like I said, West Side Story can certainly still make us think—still is making me think—socially, about what can be done to make life better. But West Side Story—done so well, now through March 27—also shows us how good life is, how good life can be. We have these beloved songs and characters, and we have such talented people like those in this cast and crew who will give that little bit more to live up to the material, who will play each show like it might be their last, and who, thank goodness, are still here to provide us grateful fans that feeling you get when you’re waiting for the lights to go out and for the show to start.

West Side Story is being performed at Marriott Theatre in Lincolnshire through March 27^th.

Has anyone ever knocked on your door trying to sell you something? Magazines? Cookies? What about religion? No? Me neither. A new Chicago musical-comedy utilizes a familiar character-driven plot line of two Mormon missionaries knocking on doors, only to discover a new friendship, and themselves along the way. It’s not The Book Of Mormon, this is The Book of Merman, the off-Broadway show showing in select cities across the country.

Two missionaries spreading the word about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, they find themselves at the door of Ethel Merman, hilarity ensues in a diva-driven journey featuring original songs by Leo Schwartz. The Book of Merman did not have much substance. There was a familiar story line of a closeted gay Mormon man who secretly loves musical theater who meets one of his idols (and he just happens to have her biography in his backpack next to his bible!). Then there’s something about Ethel Merman (the undisputed first lady of musical theater who died in 1984) is- spoiler - not who she says she is! She’s only pretending to be Ethel Merman. The characters find themselves in each other, complete strangers, and they shimmy and box step their way into no ones hearts while using jazz hands. To top it off, the vocals could hardly make it past the second row of of the 50-person music box theater at Stage 773.

With the The Book of Mormon’s monumental success, it’s easy to see how utilizing a similar character-driven plot could work. But switching out character development for stereotypes and bad vocals does not make a great production. And I have to wonder if religious soliciting is still a thing or if it’s a dying fad. Unfortunately for The Book of Merman, I think it too is a dying fad.

Presented by Flying Elephant Productions, The Book of Merman is playing at Stage 773 through January 6, 2019. Run time: 90 minutes, no intermission. For showtimes and tickets visit https://www.stage773.com/show/merman.

Unlike the preamble to the constitution, you – the people – won't find any established justice or domestic tranquility in Trump's America. Enter the Anti-Trump Musical.

Last Saturday, Flying Elephant Productions premiered We the People, a new musical featuring a cast of six singing original songs with music and lyrics by Leo Schwartz and book by Sean Chandler. In a little over an hour, the show revisits the Democratic and Republication national conventions, election night 2016, the immediate morning after, and the dawning chaos of what it means to live under a President Trump.

The musical serves as a warning of sorts, but it is too little too late. If anything, it would likely inspire people to vote in the midterm elections, and just VOTE in general so we don't wind up in this "unpresidented" (to use a term from our current president) situation again.

Part of me wanted the show to be harsher on Trump, but I can see where too abrasive of an approach would potentially turn people off. Another part of me wanted it to be funnier, because what's more of a joke than a highly unqualified reality television star becoming one of the most powerful politicians on the planet? But the reality of that is truly frightening far more than funny. The songs convey anger, and yes, some humor, but what the show does best is present the facts and give intelligent, level-headed commentary – something our country is in vast shortage of these days.

We the People is playing at Stage 773 at 1225 W Belmont Ave through February 10th.

Fun Home is not merely a well-crafted, excellent musical in every sense of the word but an important one. Fittingly winning the Tony award for Best Musical the same year same-sex marriage was legalized in the United States, Fun Home is the first Broadway musical to feature a lesbian protagonist. Beyond that, it is also the first musical to discuss homosexuality in such an open way. The main character, Alison, discovers and learns about her own sexuality the same time her father, Bruce, is battling with his. Her coming out of the closet coincides so aptly with his repression into it that it's amazing they didn't run into each other in the doorway. 

Based on writer and cartoonist Alison Bechdel's 2006 graphic memoir of the same name, the story told in Fun Home -- already dramatic and engaging on its own -- becomes that much more poignant due to the fact that it is true. This was Bechdel's life, and it is an extremely personal tale that requires a paradoxical balance of vulnerability and courage to tell.

Non-linear, like Bechdel's memoir, and brimming with intelligence, humor, and frustration, Fun Home is less a typical musical than it is a dramatic play with songs sprinkled in. Where you won't find big show-stopping numbers that burst onto the scene, you'll find elegant, pretty melodies that extend organically from significant moments in the story. The protagonist, Alison, is portrayed by three actresses to encompass her lifespan thus far: Small Al, Middle Al, and Big Al -- or just Al, who is present-day Alison writing and narrating her story.

Her father Bruce serves as both a mirror of and partial antagonist to Alison. As is said in the musical a couple of times, the heart of Fun Home is that Alison and Bruce are "nothing alike" and "exactly alike." Al's relationship with her father is set against the backdrop of their functionally dysfunctional family, with Al's two brothers playing a part as well as Helen, their mother and the long-suffering wife of Bruce. An English teacher, intellectual, and funeral director -- their house doubles as a funeral home, from where the title is derived -- Bruce fusses over every aspect of their family house, improving and embellishing every detail in a clear projection of the lack of control he feels he has over his own life, all the while subjecting the rest of the family to his obsession.

Fun Home doesn't shy away from anything. Big ideas are conveyed through small details, which include everything from the seemingly most mundane aspects of life (like cleaning the house) to the most intimate and even somewhat embarrassing (like after Al's first sexual experience with a girl when she adorably and giddily freaks out, declaring she's "changing [her] major to Joan.") It's funny, poignant, sad, and most of all, honest.

It is the least cheesy musical you will ever see.

On top of its artistic integrity alone, Fun Home is an extremely important musical for LGBT awareness. It brings the (to some, distant or fearsome) ideas of homosexuality and "coming out" to the stage and airs them out in a way that demystifies them and, by default, normalizes them. This is the first step to achieving acceptance: removing fear and saying, "Yes. This is normal. This messed up family that happens to include some gay people is just like your messed up family that happens to include some straight people." It can really be that simple, thanks to shows like Fun Home that are unafraid to be real.

Fun Home is playing at the Oriental Theater through November 13th.

Before the colonial history of New York City was hip hop-ified by outrageously talented Broadway composer/writer/actor Lin-Manuel Miranda, a small portion of the city had its own hip hop story to tell. In the Heights, which premiered on Broadway in 2008 and subsequently won the Tony for Best Musical (among four total wins) and Grammy for Best Musical Show album, features a lively ensemble who collectively share the story of their own corner of Manhattan. 

It's appropriate that Chicago's Porchlight Music Theatre chose Miranda's first musical to perform through October, as it will overlap the Chicago premiere of his second musical, the cultural phenomenon Hamilton, which gets its own Loop theater at the end of the month. Like Hamilton, In the Heights is a mixture of brilliantly crafted rap, (as well as merengue and salsa), powerful singing, and rich, often funny, dialogue. 

The story, set in Manhattan's predominantly Latino neighborhood Washington Heights, centers around the neighborhood bodega where the members of the community congregate, whether to grab their morning coffee, flirt, gossip, or discuss their dreams, their conversations painting a complicated portrait of the "barrio" life. Some of them, like the willful and stubborn Vanessa, see the Heights as a prison sentence and hope for a better future, wishing to get out by any means. Others, like Abuela Claudia, immigrated to the utopian New York City when they were young and dearly love the neighborhood in which they have lived most of their lives. Meanwhile, others struggle with both love and disdain for the Heights, like college dropout Nina who wrestles with the shame of losing her scholarship and breaking the bittersweet news to her parents that she must return home. 

On top of the drama, humor, romance, heartbreak, and impossible hopes sung and rapped about by the various characters -- Porchlight's modest 18-person cast showcases strong talent, the powerful female voices in particular could easily be heard on a professional Broadway stage -- the authenticity of a real New York community shines through. From the "piragua" (flavored shaved ice) seller carting through town, to the close-knit gossipy hair salon, to the shop owners chasing away graffiti artists, to the fierce Puerto Rican and Dominican pride on display, In the Heights realistically captures the essence of a colorful, cultural community. It entices and welcomes you with open arms, making you feel like you could be right at home if you found yourself at the edge of northern Manhattan getting off the A train at 181st Street.

In the Heights is playing at Stage 773 now through Sunday, October 23rd. Tickets can be purchased at Porchlight Music Theatre.