Steppenwolf Theatre Company’s, Windfall arrives with all the promise its pedigree suggests. Written by Academy Award–winning ensemble member Tarell Alvin McCraney and directed by Awoye Timpo, the production aspires to be a pulsing, lyrical meditation on grief, justice, and the uneasy intersection of activism and capitalism. What unfolds instead is a work rich in intention but frustratingly elusive in execution.

The play centers on a protest encampment that erupts into violence, culminating in the shooting of Eli, a member of Never Wrestle Justice - a group of activists unafraid to raise their voices. In the aftermath, Marcus (Glenn Davis), who has transitioned, lingers alongside his aging adoptive father, Mr. Mano (Michael Potts). Mano is left reeling, unable to fully accept the reported death of his child, Eli (Esco Jouléy). It’s a potent premise: a father who refuses to confirm his child’s death, a government eager to offer a financial settlement, and a moral dilemma that questions whether survival can - or should - be measured in dollars. Tarell Alvin McCraney frames the story as a “chosen family” drama, but the emotional foundation never fully coheres.

Marcus urges Mano to identify Eli’s body and accept the settlement, arguing that “blood money is still money.” Yet Mano resists, clinging to the unbearable ambiguity of loss. The arrival of various state representatives - played with dynamic range by Alana Arenas as First Lady, Miss Second, and The Last One - pushes the narrative into increasingly surreal territory. These figures, along with Jon Michael Hill and Namir Smallwood in multiple roles, embody a bureaucratic machine that is at once apologetic, predatory, and opaque.

There are flashes of McCraney’s signature lyricism, particularly in the spectral appearances of Eli. Whether ghost, memory, or manifestation of guilt, Eli’s presence should anchor the play’s emotional core. Instead, it muddies the stakes. When Eli ultimately reappears - alive, defiant, and ready to fight - the revelation feels less like a cathartic turn and more like a narrative sleight of hand that the play hasn’t earned.

This points to the central issue: the characters are too thinly drawn to sustain the weight of the play’s ideas. We see Mano’s grief, Marcus’s urgency to settle, and Eli’s activism, but we rarely feel them. The stakes, which should be life-altering, register as curiously low. Even the moral dilemma - to take the money or resist the system - never fully ignites because the emotional investment isn’t there.

Timpo’s direction leans into the play’s abstraction, emphasizing its communal and ritualistic elements. At times, this works; the staging has a fluidity that suggests a world where reality and memory bleed into one another. But the lack of clarity ultimately undermines the experience. Confusion becomes less a deliberate aesthetic choice and more a barrier to engagement.

There is also the question of place. Though the play is set in Chicago, it rarely feels rooted there. References to Rainbow Beach or Pequod’s Pizza read as surface-level markers rather than lived-in details. For a story so deeply tied to protest, policing, and community, the absence of a tangible sense of Chicago is a missed opportunity.

Still, the performances strive to elevate the material. Arenas is the undeniable standout, bringing vitality and nuance to each of her roles. Whenever she takes the stage, the play briefly finds its pulse. Potts lends dignity to Mano, though the script gives him limited room to build a fully realized arc.

McCraney has proven himself to be a playwright of profound depth and clarity. Windfall gestures toward that brilliance but never quite achieves it. It is a communal experience, yes - but one that leaves you searching for emotional and narrative footing long after the final moment fades.

Somewhat Recommended

When:   Through May 31

Where:  Steppenwolf Theatre, 1650 N. Halsted

Tickets: $20 - $148.50

Box Office: 312-335-1650

www.steppenwolf.org

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

Screwball comedy went the way of the dinosaur after the 1940s, but Northlight Theatre attempts to revive it with The Angel Next Door.

For those unfamiliar, screwball was a film subgenre that mixed romance, slapstick, and banter, like Mentos and Coke, and watched them explode to great effect. Stars like Cary Grant, Katharine Hepburn, William Powell, and Barbara Stanwyck delivered punchlines like a punch to the gut and made the over-the-top plotlines land with ease. A modern-day screwball comedy is a welcome idea. Unfortunately, The Angel Next Door doesn’t quite fly to its predecessors’ heights.

Written by Paul Slade Smith, this comedy was adapted from Ferenc Molnar’s Play at the Castle. It follows Oliver Adams, played by Garrett Lutz, who just finished his first novel. It’s set to be adapted for the stage by married playwrights, Arthur and Charlotte Sanders (Sean Fortunato and Katy Sullivan). They desperately need a hit after their last venture flopped, and their only hope is Oliver’s book.

Unfortunately, things don’t go as planned, and the bright-eyed, innocent author discovers that the beautiful Margot Bell (Aja Alcazar), his love and the novel’s inspiration, has been intimate with Victor Pratt (Andres Enriquez), Broadway’s favorite baritone. It’s then up to Charlotte to bring the two together before Oliver flushes his dreams – and everyone else’s – down the drain.

The Angel Next Door is a love letter to theatre, poking fun at stage tropes, breaking the fourth wall, and preaching about the importance of laughter and escapism in today’s world. In fact, by the end, an unbeliever, Olga (Erin Noel Grennan), the maid, is converted. Unfortunately, the script is so saturated with inside jokes, that the plot is only as deep as a puddle. The first act feels like one long set-up for a mediocre pay-off in the second. Much of the time is spent in exposition or watching characters react to scenes the audience watched happen moments ago.

The cast is the saving grace. The entire troupe, with the exception of Sullivan, actually performed their same parts in Peninsula Players Theatre’s 2024 production. Linda Fortunato, Peninsula’s Artistic Director, directed those performances and also directs Northlight’s version, guiding the production with confidence and clarity even though this particular script doesn’t quite rise to meet her.

Sean Fortunato and Katy Sullivan work wonderfully together as the veteran playwrights who have been through it all. Alcazar balances Margot’s ego and grace well, making it easy to understand why it was love at first sight for Oliver. Enriquez is hilarious as the dumb Victor, who is always ten steps behind everyone else and gets lost in his own reflection. Alcazar and Enriquez also have great physicality, and it was fun to watch the flair they added to simple movements, like sitting down with style or stomping their foot. Erin Noel Grennan steals every scene as the grim Olga. Her comedic timing and presence make this kooky character pop.

Ultimately, The Angel Next Door has all of the parts of a solid comedy but in the wrong proportions. For example, Olga is a crowd-favorite, but scenes would occasionally stall to give her joke after joke. Too much of a good thing is a bad thing, especially when the audience got very few interactions between Oliver and Margot, despite everyone’s future hinging on their romance.

Still, The Angel Next Door delivers an enjoyable experience, lifted by a strong cast, even if it doesn’t linger long after the curtain falls.

For more information, visit https://northlight.org/series/the-angel-next-door/.

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

Marriott Theatre’s Heartbreak Hotel takes on the tricky task of charting Elvis Presley’s early ascent, walking the line between the mythic figure we think we know and the unpolished young man still figuring out who he was becoming. What emerges is a brisk, music‑driven portrait that leans into the volatility of those formative years - the industry pressures that boxed him in, the personal crossroads that pushed him forward, and the creative sparks that hinted at the cultural earthquake to come. It’s a show less interested in polishing the legend than in capturing the restless drive of a talent on the verge of rewriting American music.

Heartbreak Hotel traces Elvis Presley’s early rise with a pace that stays brisk without ever feeling hurried, using a clever device: a ’68 Comeback‑era Elvis looking back on his younger selves. At times the man, the teen, and the 11‑year‑old boy share the stage simultaneously - singing, reminiscing, harmonizing - embodying a life moving faster than any one version of him can fully grasp. The musical follows Elvis from the tentative spark of his Sun Studio sessions into the glare of national attention, tracing how each new opportunity brings both momentum and complication. Producers, handlers, and well‑meaning advisors orbit him constantly, each with a different vision of who he should become, and the show uses those interactions to underline just how precarious his initial ascent really was.

As the demands of fame tighten around him, the story frames Elvis’s evolution as a series of choices - some instinctive, some imposed, all shaping the performer he’s still learning to be. Rather than digging for psychological depth, the plot focuses on the push‑and‑pull between artistic hunger and commercial pressure, capturing the uneasy transition from raw talent to cultural commodity. It’s a portrait of a young man standing at the edge of a seismic career, long before the iconography calcifies and the legend overtakes the life.

At the center of Heartbreak Hotel is Tyler Hanes playing Elvis Presley, who carries the show with a mix of youthful swagger and genuine vulnerability. His performance hinges not just on vocal accuracy but on capturing the restless, slightly bewildered energy of a young man being swept into stardom. His renditions of “Blue Suede Shoes” and “Heartbreak Hotel” land with the right mix of polish and rawness, and his quieter moments - particularly the early Sun Studio sequences and those paired with Priscilla - give the production its emotional grounding.

The show’s Colonel Tom Parker, portrayed by Rob Lindley, is the necessary counterweight: charming, calculating, and always two steps ahead. Lindley brings a slick, almost Vaudevillian charisma that keeps the character from slipping into caricature (although Parker may have been a caricature of himself anyway). His scenes pop with tension, especially in numbers where he orchestrates Elvis’s next move with a smile that never quite reaches his eyes.

Tyler Hanes as Elvis Presley (center) with ensemble in Heartbreak Hotel at Marriott Theatre.

The Sun Studio ensemble - the musicians, producers, and collaborators - provide some of the production’s most engaging textures. Jackson Evans, as Sam Phillips, is heavily featured in the first act and delivers one of the show’s standout performances, offering a steady, clear‑eyed presence that anchors the opening chapters with real artistic purpose. The play digs into Phillips’s instinct for raw talent - his uncanny ability to spot greatness beforehand - and makes clear that his relentless championing of Elvis is what first carried the young singer’s sound across Memphis and into the broader South. His work with the band digs deep and gives us an idea of Phillips’s impact in shaping a new kind of rock ‘n’ roll sound. Their group numbers in the studio, including “That’s All Right,” have an infectious looseness that contrasts sharply with the more commercialized performances later in the show.

The supporting cast adds essential color. Colton Sims offers a sharp, unaffected turn as Teen Elvis, capturing the raw spark before the polish sets in, and Charles Adler Bischoof, as young Elvis, brings a bright, unguarded innocence that reminds the audience just how early the legend began.

Elizabeth Telford lends Gladys Presley a quiet emotional weight, centering the story whenever she’s onstage. Anna Louise Bramlett brings an earnest warmth to Dixie, while Amanda Walker gives Priscilla a steady, grounded presence that subtly deepens the story.

In one of Heartbreak’s most exciting moments, Alexandra Palkovic takes control of the stage delivering a sleek, charismatic jolt as Ann-Margret, hinting at the whirlwind to come. Palkovic dances with real fire, echoing Ann‑Margret’s signature style with crisp precision and an infectious burst of energy. Palkovic later joins Hanes in one of the most touching moments when the two perform a beautiful rendition together of “You’re the Boss.” The addition of a full Ann‑Margret song‑and‑dance number feels especially meaningful, since her on‑screen chemistry with Elvis has always struck me as one of the high points of his physical and emotional vitality.  

Tyler Hanes as Elvis Presley and Alexandra Palkovic as Ann-Margret.

Karl Hamilton gives Vernon Presley a quiet, understated presence, and Naiqui Macabroad stands out in his multi‑role track - Johnny Bragg, Chuck, Jackie Brenston, and the producer for both Steve Allen and Ed Sullivan - slipping between characters with crisp versatility and welcome bursts of personality. Fredrick Webb Jr. also makes a strong impression in multiple roles, notably as Roy Brown, Otis Redding, Fats Domino, and throughout the ensemble.

Going back to the musicians, the live band is one of the show’s more memorable assets. With Jake Busse as Bill Black, Zac Richey as Scotty Moore, and Trevor Lindley Craft as Ronnie (pre-DJ Fontana days) forming the tight onstage trio, the musicians anchor the production with a sound that feels both authentic and freshly charged. Lindley Craft doubles as Frank Sinatra. He and Hanes deliver one of the evening’s highlights as they recreate the famous duet from Elvis’s post‑Army appearance on The Frank Sinatra Show - a stylish medley of “Love Me Tender” and “Witchcraft” that lands with effortless charm.

Melanie Brezil also brings a radiant spark to Sister Rosetta Tharpe, delivering her featured moment with bright, joyful command on both vocals and guitar.  

Together, the band’s instrumental work and the ensemble’s rich harmonies elevate the musical landscape. A mid‑show gospel sequence of “Peace in the Valley” – another one of this staging’s big moments - showcases the ensemble’s vocal power and reminds the audience of the musical traditions that shaped Presley long before fame did.

Marriott’s in‑the‑round setup gives Heartbreak Hotel an expansive energy, with action unfolding on all sides. The cast’s aisle work draws the audience in, creating a surprisingly immersive sense of scale, and the smart use of media and projections amplifies that impact even further. A staging in this intimate space gives the storytelling room to gather real thrust. That quality becomes especially clear as the sequences build toward the emotional high point, when Elvis finally sheds the cookie‑cutter movie image he’d long outgrown and reclaims his artistry in the ’68 Comeback Special, reestablishing his place as the King of Rock ’n’ Roll. 

I’ve always been drawn to stories orbiting Elvis Presley, and Heartbreak Hotel earns its place among them by honoring the legend without embalming him in nostalgia. Elvis wasn’t just a chart‑topper; he was a cultural accelerant, the artist who fused gospel, blues, country, and rhythm‑and‑blues into a sound that detonated across America and permanently rewired its musical DNA. His influence stretched far beyond the stage - reshaping fashion, performance style, youth identity, and the very idea of what a pop star could be. Productions like this one matter because they keep that seismic legacy in motion, passing it from one generation to the next not as a museum relic, but as a living, breathing force that still shapes the music we hear today.

When referring to rock 'n' roll, John Lennon said it himself, “Before Elvis, there was nothing.” Heartbreak Hotel echoes that sentiment.

Directed and choreographed by Deidre Goodwin, this musical bears the imprint of an artist who understands how to propel a story without letting the spectacle swallow it. Her direction shapes the evening with a steady, purposeful rhythm, keeping the focus tight even as the musical numbers expand outward. Goodwin’s fantastic choreography blends period flavor with a clean, contemporary precision, giving the show a kinetic pulse that feels both rooted in its era and alive in the present. It’s her sense of balance - between nostalgia and freshness, between narrative drive and musical release - that ultimately gives the production its lift.

Elvis devotees will find plenty to appreciate in Heartbreak Hotel, which treats the King’s formative years and artistic rebirth with genuine affection and a clear understanding of his musical legacy. But the show’s appeal stretches well beyond Presley fandom; anyone who loves American music - from gospel and blues to early rock and soul - will recognize the joy in hearing these sounds brought to life by a superbly talented cast and band. Heartbreak Hotel runs through June 2nd at Marriott Theatre and is an exciting musical experience well worth attending. 

For tickets and/or more show information, click here. 

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

Drury Lane Theatre announces the appointment of Matthew D. Carney as its new Artistic Director. A longtime collaborator and key member of the artistic team at Drury Lane, Carney steps into the role following more than a decade of artistic contributions that have helped support the theatre's signature style and high standard of excellence.

Carney joined Drury Lane Theatre in June 2013 and, over the past 13 years, has served as Associate Artistic Director, Casting Director, and Company Manager. His extensive work with the organization includes directing the upcoming production of Buddy – The Buddy Holly Story, serving as Casting Director for more than 70 productions, and acting as resident director for the annual Theatre for Young Audiences production of A Christmas Carol. He has also worked as assistant director on productions including The 39 Steps, Steel Magnolias, Shrek, and Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, and as costume designer for The Gin Game. Carney holds a BFA in Theatrical Design and Technology focused in Costume Design from Wright State University.

Kyle DeSantis, President of Drury Lane Productions, welcomed Carney as the new Artistic Director, "When my grandfather first raised the curtain in 1949, he created something special: a place where families discovered the magic of live theatre, children experienced their first Broadway musical, and a passion for performance was handed down through generations. Matt is just the person to carry on the  Drury Lane legacy. I have worked with him for over a decade – his artistry and leadership never ceases to amaze me. I am looking forward to his continued transcendent journey with Drury Lane. I am elated to collaborate with him as he guides us into the next era of world-class theatre in Chicagoland!

"I am deeply honored to lead the next chapter in Drury Lane's story," said Carney. "I am excited by the opportunity to build on Tony DeSantis' legacy while embracing a fresh perspective for a new generation of theatre goers. My goal is to cultivate a space where artists feel inspired to tell classic stories in new ways, audiences feel welcomed and moved by their experience, and every production reflects the excellence Drury Lane is known for."

In his new role, Carney will oversee artistic programming and production at Drury Lane Theatre, helping to shape future seasons while continuing the organization's long-standing commitment to delivering world-class entertainment. Carney's appointment marks an exciting continuation of Drury Lane's tradition of artistic excellence and collaboration.

About Drury Lane Theatre    

Built from scratch. Built in Oakbrook. Built for you. 

Founded by Anthony DeSantis over 70 years ago, Drury Lane remains a family-run organization under the leadership of President Kyle DeSantis. Drury Lane Theatre continues as a major force in the Chicagoland theatre scene, producing world-class theatre in collaboration with some of the nation's leading actors, directors, and creative minds. Drury Lane Theatre produces the highest quality theatrical experience that immerses and supports artists and audiences in the exploration of what it means to be human and to experience the transcending power of the performing and visual arts. Drury Lane strives to create an environment in which every individual or group is welcomed, respected, supported, valued and able to fully experience and participate in this transformative art form. 

The theatre has staged more than 2,000 productions and has been nominated for over 360 Joseph Jefferson Awards. Drury Lane proudly employs thousands of professional actors, musicians, designers, and crew members to entertain upwards of nine million audience members and counting.

It’s no secret every new dance season is filled with its own undercurrent of anticipation. Regardless of the company, audiences who follow them silently wonder what will be the prevailing theme that will dominate a troupe’s next major performance. What attributes will signal growth and maturity.  What kind of insights are going to be shared through a gifted choreographer’s storytelling skills.  What unexpected feat of technical or physical prowess is going to once again prove dance’s unmatched ability to translate the full scope our humanity.

Some companies can always be relied on to provide brilliant responses to those kinds of musings.  Giordano Dance Chicago (GDC) is one of them and their Ignite the Soul program at the Harris Theater for Music and Dance Friday night demonstrated that even with more than 60 years’ experience dancing at the top, the growing process never ceases.  The will and desire to keep striving, learning and absorbing does much more than simply avert atrophy.  It fuels the kind of energy that invigorates everyone on the stage and in the seats.  And it enables some of the galvanizing moments found in Ignite the Soul.

A broad ranging show that spanned genres of dance and artistic temperaments, half of the program’s six dance roster consisted of works that have never previously been performed publicly.  Two of the three world premieres were made possible by donors who, not so uncommonly, prefer to remain anonymous.

The show opened with resident choreographer Al Blackstone’s Latin inspired, Sana.  Receiving its own world premier last year, the dance lives as comfortably in the realm of contemporary dance as it does jazz.  Meant to evoke notions of healing, Sana highlights the beneficence of community and the power of the collective.  Thrillingly dynamic and often probing, Stahv Danker’s original score makes for a potent force that enhances Sana’s appeal.

Over the years, GDC has fine-tuned the way it incorporates film shorts to provide supporting information about the company, its history, its dancers, the choreographers it partners with and the wealth of community initiatives it conducts.  Each season these interludes become more polished and prove more indispensable.  One preceded each of the evening’s new dance segments; providing priceless insights into what fuels a talented choreographer’s creative process.  By the time tap dancer, choreographer and arts executive Mike Minery finished his explanation on how My Kind of Girl came about, you couldn’t wait to see the world premier he collaborated with GDC’s Artistic Director, Nan Giordano, to produce for the company. 

Adam Houston and Sasha Lazarus - photo by Zach Kemper.

Through his lead in, we learn how crucial tap is to much of modern dance and how instructive it can be to a dancer’s technical foundation.  Then we were reintroduced to how therapeutic and beautiful the dance form can be when Minery himself took to the stage with GDC’s splendid Erina Ueda to enrapture the hall with a gorgeous tap duet.  In this hyper-digitized, infamously disconnected world, My Kind of Girl is as analog as a warm hug and twice as pleasing.  Loaded with dance prowess of the highest level and bathed in Frank Sinatra’s silky voice backed by Count Basie’s band, the audience couldn’t help but cheer heartily after My Kind of Girl came to its swoon worthy close. 

Following that welcome touch of sweetness, the company brought out the flame throwers with Sabroso, a 2011 torcher crafted by Del Dominguez and Laura Flores.  Quintessential Giordano in its presentation, dancers shimmied and strutted their way through a sassy half dozen Latin dance styles that came packed with plenty of sensual heat.  Flaunting knock-out sequined costumes designed Nina G., the women in the company made sultry soar while their male counterparts wrapped machismo in a thick layer of sophistication.  Adam Houston and Analysse Vance picture perfect Bolero highlighted the exceptional individual artistry dancers bring to a performance.  The kind that always guarantees delight.

Something of the transformational arrived with Jon Rua’s namuH, a dance signifying the power and importance of love at its most basic and pure.  Rua’s video explanation of his personal background and the trajectory of his career from street dancer to choreographer ideally framed the dance that followed.  The word “Human” spelled backward, namuH feels as if it has one foot in the present day and one in the future.  Bjork and Stateless’s music draw an intense landscape.  Rugged and difficult.  Coupled with neutral, utilitarian costumes worn by the dancers and you sense a sterile almost bleak world.  The energy and magnetism come from the dance and the dancers who, despite any obstacle or hardship, invariably end up leaning on each other to keep on keeping on. 

The music, the way the dance unfolds, the unorthodox movements whose origins clearly derive from the grit of urban streets, all draw you in and leave you captivated.  As rewarding as the choreography itself is, the company’s dancers give it life by fully internalizing its precepts and projecting its message so beautifully.   

This is about as far away from jazz dance as you can get, but namuH’s central theme of cohesion and co-dependence; as well as the way it helps us see the latent generosity in all of us, make it an ideal match for this venerable dance company that can shape shift so elegantly.

Excerpts of Ronen Koresh’s 2015 Crossing/Lines preceded the night’s finale and final world premiere, Dumb Luck!, choreographed by Mr. Blackstone.   A salute to the country’s upcoming 250 anniversary and an intentional lighthearted salve to our erratic times, Dumb Luck!, with its nautical pastiche and post-war verve, is a happy escape to nostalgia.  Nina G.’s period sailor outfits take you right back to the grand old days of splashy Hollywood musicals.  Coasting on jazz gold via the sounds of The Nate King Cole trio, the Manhattan Transfer, and Big Bad Voodoo Daddy, dancers cavort while maintaining tight but jaunty dance formations.

A very fine effort, strengthening the dance’s core character would make it more even more distinctive.  

Whetting the appetite for more is what Dumb Luck! and the rest of the dances making up Ignite the Soul’s program do all too well.  Placing those expectation reveries about their next stage outing on high boil once again.

Ignite the Soul

Giordano Dance Chicago

April 10-11, 2026

Venue: The Harris Theater for Music and Dance

205 E. Randolph Street

Chicago, IL  60601

For more information about Giordano Dance Chicago:  https://www.giordanodance.org

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

The 1950s is easy to idealize. Men styled tailored suits, women dazzled in pleated dresses, and everything glimmered like it was in a commercial. Life’s troubles were solved with a talk from pop or a hug from mom – or that’s how it seemed. Drury Lane Theatre’s Father of the Bride transports audiences to that romanticized time, and it’s a welcome trip!

Published in 1949, Father of the Bride was adapted for the stage and screen, including two beloved movies starring Hollywood heavy-weights Elizabeth Taylor, Spencer Tracy, and, later, Steve Martin in 1991. While a wedding-gone-wrong may be a familiar story, director Michael Heitzman infused Drury Lane’s rendition with charm, laughter, and sincerity, making it feel fresh.

The play follows Stanley Banks, whose one-and-only daughter prepares for her big day, but she just wants a simple ceremony. Then again, she does want to invite all of her friends… and wants a beautiful dress… and well, by the time everything adds up, the small affair balloons into a whopping headache for dad.

Joe Dempsey’s portrayal of Banks, the set-in-his-ways father, is spot on, and his ad-libbed groans and physical comedy can’t help but make you laugh and empathize with poor, ol’ dad. He balances his old‑school bravado with the teddy-bear-interior so well, creating the heart of the story and avoiding the tired “dumb dad” troupes.

Aurora Penepacker and Jake DiMaggio Lopez in Father of the Bride. Photo by Justin Barbin.

Also making up the family is Rachel Sullivan, who plays the mother, Ellie Banks, with a gentle, confident air, and sons Ben and Tommy are portrayed by Kyle Ringley and Charlie Long, who bring charismatic Leave It to Beaver energy.

Aurora Penepacker plays Kay Banks, the soon-to-be bride with all of the charm of Elizabeth Taylor, and Jake DiMaggio Lopez is her moonstruck, in-over-his-head fiancée, Buckley Dunstan. Their chemistry is fun to watch as every emotion ping-pongs around as their nuptials draw near.

The ensemble also includes some fantastic performances. Michele Vazaquez portrays the tightly wound secretary, Miss Bellamy, who delivers a hilarious meltdown when every member of the family sabotages her efforts to finalize a guest list. Ed Kross brings quirky comedy as the caterer, Mr. Missoula, who steamrolls the Banks (and jumps like Super Mario), and Maya Hlava as Peggy Swift is an overzealous girl-next-door who plots to catch the bouquet.

The original compositions composed by Curtis Moore also deserve a shout-out. They serve as the perfect soundtrack during sequences which showed seasons changing or wedding gifts flooding in and add that extra something that makes you feel like you’re watching your favorite black-and-white sitcom.

Comedy can be tricky to tackle, but Father of the Bride makes ever beat work. It’s whimsical, playful, and a reminder that when things go awry, those you love will always be there. Father of the Bride is an invitation to a pure, wholesome evening, and it’s an invite you should not pass up.

Father of the Bride runs through May 31 at Drury Lane Theater. Click here for tickets and more information.

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

Theresa Rebeck’s Poor Behavior at Oil Lamp Theatre, directed by Lauren Katz, opens with the easy warmth of old friends reconnecting - only to reveal how quickly a shared history can curdle. Within minutes, the play exposes the messy, magnetic dynamics that will drive the evening off the rails.

Peter and his wife, Ella (Jack Morsovillo and Ksa Curry), have welcomed their longtime friends, Ian and Maureen (Sam Fain and Lauren Paige), to their getaway country home for what’s meant to be an easy, wine‑soaked weekend. At first, everything feels harmless enough: the four drift around the kitchen and dining area, chatting, teasing, negotiating snacks - Peter is fixated on getting ice cream, Maureen keeps the small talk humming - the kind of casual domestic bustle that suggests comfort and history. But the mood shifts quickly when Ella and Ian slip into a heated exchange. Their rhythm is so practiced, so charged, that it feels less like a friendly debate and more like a well‑worn battleground. The familiarity between them is startling; before the play has even fully settled, you can’t help but wonder whether these two are circling an old intimacy the others aren’t acknowledging.

Ella insists - almost with a kind of moral urgency - that there is still goodness in the world, that people are capable of generosity and grace if you’re willing to look for it. Ian, however, has no patience for her optimism. Once enamored with America when he first arrived from Ireland, he now sees the country through a far bleaker lens. Every example Ella offers is batted away; to Ian, America is a place that devours resources, exploits the planet, and disguises greed as virtue. His cynicism isn’t casual - it’s sharpened, almost weaponized - and the more Ella pushes, the more he digs in. The argument escalates until the air in the room feels charged and brittle, the kind of tension that makes everyone else freeze. And then, just as it threatens to tip into something truly damaging, they both pull back. Cooler heads prevail, apologies surface, and the group collectively pretends they haven’t just witnessed a fault line crack open beneath the weekend – for the moment.

Peter has known Maureen since childhood - his brother even dated her for a time - and that shared history lends their friendship an instinctive ease. Neither couple has children, a fact they use, somewhat conveniently, to justify how tightly they cling to one another’s company. But do they actually like each other as much as they claim? As the evening unfolds, small cracks begin to show. The conversation among the foursome is lively enough on the surface, yet it quickly becomes clear that each marriage carries its own quiet fractures. Then, when Maureen misinterprets a moment of consolation between Ella and Ian - whose father has just died, or so he says - the weekend tilts sharply off its axis. Accusations fly, lies multiply, manipulation takes root, and before long the polite veneer between these two couples is stripped away entirely.

(L to R) Sam Fain, Ksa Curry, Jack Morsovillo and Lauren Paige in POOR BEHAVIOR from Oil Lamp Theater. Photos by Gosia Matuszewska - GosiaPhotography.com.

At first, the “poor behavior” can be dismissed as simple drunkenness - after all, Ian has plowed through four bottles of wine on his own. But as the night wears on, it becomes clear that alcohol is only the accelerant, not the cause. Rebeck gradually peels back the layers on all four characters: Maureen, whose anxiety and emotional fragility leave her grasping for reassurance; Ian, who seems to relish stoking doubt and discomfort whenever the opportunity presents itself; Ella is idealistic but is clearly withholding something; it’s subtle, but the undercurrent of it hums beneath everything she does; and mild-mannered Peter, who defaults to denial, choosing avoidance over confrontation and clinging to the hope that he can simply walk away from the weekend as though nothing has happened. What begins as sloppy, alcohol-fueled bickering soon exposes the fault lines that have been waiting for the slightest spark to rupture.  

Sam Fain and Ksa Curry deliver two of the evening’s most arresting performances, their scenes pulsing with an undeniable, almost disarming connection from the get-go. Fain’s Ian commands the room with a dangerous charm, twisting conversations to his advantage while letting flashes of buried desire slip through the cracks, while Curry’s Ella meets him with a grounded emotional intelligence that reveals the deeper currents Rebeck threads beneath their exchanges. Lauren Paige brings a raw, aching vulnerability to Maureen, charting her spirals of insecurity with precision and empathy, and Jack Morsovillo anchors the chaos as Peter, his quiet restraint and mounting frustration giving the play its moral center.

The arguing is relentless, and the tension feels startlingly real. Under Lauren Katz’s direction, the world of Poor Behavior becomes a room primed to combust with every glance, pause, and interruption calibrated to reveal the messy, volatile dynamics between these four characters. Katz cultivates a realism so precise that the uncomfortable moments become genuinely unsettling, keeping us on our toes as we anticipate what might unfold next - good or bad. And though we may root for these couples to find their way back to solid ground, the production holds us captive with the stark authenticity of their unraveling, a truthfulness that makes the prospect of reconciliation feel increasingly remote. Rebeck’s script raises thorny questions about the strength of relationships, the dangers of complacency (or not – for some), the limits of tolerance, and the moment when “enough” finally becomes enough - and Katz ensures those questions echo long after the final scene.

The thoughtfully crafted set serves this play perfectly, which strengthens the production’s overall effectiveness. Trenton Jones shapes a kitchen‑and‑dining‑room layout that feels like a genuinely lived‑in countryside home. A staircase rises toward the suggested upstairs bedrooms, while just beyond the kitchen refrigerator sits the entrance to a ground‑floor guest room. The result is a spacious‑looking design that expands the world of the play and works remarkably well on Oil Lamp’s intimate stage.

Oil Lamp Theater’s well-paced Poor Behavior succeeds because every element - Rebeck’s incisive writing, Katz’s sharply attuned direction, and a quartet of deeply committed performances - works together to illuminate the muddled, contradictory ways people love, wound, and misread one another. The staging embraces discomfort without sacrificing its humanity, inviting us to recognize uncomfortable truths about ourselves in the chaos onstage. By the time the lights fade, we’re left with the uneasy understanding that relationships don’t always resolve neatly, yet the effort to navigate them is what makes us unmistakably human. It’s the kind of play that stays with you long after you’ve left the theater.

Poor Behavior is being performed at Oil Lamp Theatre through May 10^th. For tickets and/or more show information, click here.

Highly recommended.

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

You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone and married someone else – that’s how Noel Coward’s Private Lives sees it. For those unfamiliar with Coward, his scripts have bite and humor that were ahead of its time when they first hit the stage in the 1930s. Today, the edge may not be as sharp or controversial, but the dialogue and situational comedy still lend itself to a riotous evening.

BrightSide Theatre presents this playful comedy all about exes who happen to honeymoon with their new spouses at the same hotel.

What starts as a horribly awkward coincidence for Amanda and Elyot takes a turn when their mutual annoyance for their new partners rekindles their old flame. In no time, she climbs over into his adjoining terrace, and they run off, leaving their actual spouses to sort it out. They were kind enough to leave a note though. But it doesn’t take long for old patterns to rear their ugly head, and Amanda and Elyot, despite their promise not to bicker (even coming up with a game of silence when a fight is about to start), call it quits again. That is, until their old (new?) lovers find them and remind the on-again-off-again pair why they just can’t quit each other. There’s no end to the comedy as love is portrayed as messy, fickle, and volatile – with a few humorously choreographed fights mixed in.

Directed by Jeffrey Cass, also the Artistic Director, this rendition makes the most of Coward’s razor‑sharp script. The actors deliver lines with a lead foot, only pausing long enough for the audience to laugh before it’s on to the next joke. It’s a good thing, too, because in lesser hands this wordy play could have been stretched into a dull affair. While most of the zingers pack a punch, the script isn’t perfect. In fact, Act 1’s second scene spins its wheels before finally taking the plot where the audience already knew it was going. But in the hands of these capable actors, we can forgive Coward for being verbose.

Jon Cunningham and Jamie Marie DePaolo play Elyot and Amanda respectively, and their chemistry is the driving force of the evening. Their banter sizzles. DePaolo steals the show though with the firecracker energy she brings. There were several moments where just her facial expression got a laugh. She so thoroughly embodied this magnetic, yet mercurial she charmed everyone from her first entrance.

Portraying their other love interests are Matt Hellyer and Emily Sherman, who play their respective roles very capably – as perfect saps. After getting dumped on the first day of their honeymoon, their characters secretly hope that they’ll take them back. So, while you empathize, their lack of personal self-worth makes them unappealing – helping justify our leads horrid behavior. The cast works very well together, matching each other’s energy and comedic chops. In fact, their synergy was even evidenced by a scene change. They worked so quickly and efficiently in the dim light to transition a hotel’s terrace to a flat’s interior that everyone applauded when they were finished.

Along with plenty of laughs, there is also a lesson on love. These selfish characters demonstrate a total incomprehension of the true meaning of that four-letter word, which is ironic since the final act takes place in Paris, a city known for romance. But that’s the problem. These couples thrive on passion, and when the dust settles, they want the next hit for their heart. But true love is sacrificial, putting another’s needs before your own, which is something they don’t understand. It’s illustrated perfectly by Amanda’s French maid. When she speaks to them, they only nod and smile, since they don’t know French. In the same way, they don’t know the language of love either and fumble around, pretending with each other that they do. But while it may cause trouble for these characters, it’s a treat for the audience.

Private Lives runs through April 29 at BrightSide Theatre at the Theater at Meiley-Swallow Hall North Central College, 31 S. Ellsworth St. in Naperville. For tickets and/or more show information, click here.

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