Displaying items by tag: live theatre

Auditorium Philms’ presentation of Steven Spielberg’s 1981 classic Raiders of the Lost Ark with the Chicago Philharmonic Orchestra transforms a beloved blockbuster into a full‑body cinematic jolt. Indiana Jones’ adventures play out across the towering Auditorium Theatre screen, but it’s the live orchestra that makes the familiar feel astonishingly new. John Williams’ legendary score doesn’t just sit beneath the film—it surges through it, electrifying every frame. Each chase, each narrow escape, each sweeping desert vista lands with heightened force as the Philharmonic unleashes the “Raiders March” and the score’s darker, more mysterious undercurrents with breathtaking clarity. The result is an experience that feels both nostalgically rooted in movie history and thrillingly alive in the present moment.

Set in 1936, Raiders of the Lost Ark follows archaeologist and adventurer Indiana Jones (Harrison Ford) as he’s recruited by U.S. Army Intelligence to locate the Ark of the Covenant, a biblical artifact believed to hold immense supernatural power. The Nazis are already searching for it, hoping to harness its destructive force for their military ambitions.

Indy’s quest takes him from the jungles of South America to the snowy mountains of Nepal and the bustling streets of Cairo. Along the way, he reunites with his tough, resourceful former flame Marion Ravenwood (Karen Black), and together they battle traps, treachery, and relentless Nazi agents. Standing in Indy’s way is his rival, the suave and morally slippery archaeologist René Belloq (Paul Freeman), who has aligned himself with the Nazis to claim the Ark for his own purposes.

The adventure barrels toward a race‑against‑time finale as Indy fights to keep the Ark out of enemy hands—culminating in one of the most unforgettable climaxes in action‑adventure cinema.

The stunning Auditorium Theatre amplifies the magic, its grand acoustics allowing the orchestra’s sound to bloom without ever overpowering the action onscreen. The coordination between musicians and film is so precise that it feels as though the score is being created in the moment, perfectly synced to every crack of Indy’s whip and every pulse‑pounding twist. The result is a seamless blend of concert and cinema, a reminder of just how essential Williams’ music is to the film’s spirit, humor, and sense of adventure.

Conductor Thiago Tiberio.

Brazilian conductor Thiago Tiberio brings remarkable artistry and precision to the podium, making him one of the standout talents in the world of film‑in‑concert performance. Known for his expert live‑to‑picture synchronization, Tiberio has led orchestras in acclaimed presentations of Star Wars, The Nightmare Before Christmas, Coco, Lord of the Rings, and other major studio projects across the globe. His background spans opera, multimedia productions, and award‑winning work recognized by organizations including the United Nations. What truly distinguishes Tiberio is his dynamic presence and emotional clarity - he draws rich, expressive playing from musicians and elevates every score he touches, turning familiar soundtracks into thrilling live experiences.

Each time Indy charges onto the screen with a burst of heroism - or the Chicago Philharmonic unleashes a perfectly rendered cue from Williams’ score - the audience responds as one. Cheers ripple through the theatre, a spontaneous wave of energy that makes the experience feel communal and electric.

Whether you’ve seen Raiders a dozen times or are discovering it for the first time, this live‑orchestra presentation is a joyous celebration of movie magic - an electrifying tribute to one of Hollywood’s most enduring collaborations.

As a newly crowned favorite way to experience a film classic, Auditorium Philms makes a strong case for returning again and again. Their upcoming slate keeps the magic alive, offering even more opportunities to see iconic movies reimagined through the power of live orchestral performance. Keep an eye on their calendar - you won’t want to miss the cinematic treasures still to come.

Saturday, May 16, 2026 • 7:30 PM
Auditorium Philms Presents
Rocky In Concert – 50th Anniversary
with the Chicago Philharmonic

Saturday, September 26, 2026 • 7:30 PM
Auditorium Philms Presents
Top Gun: Maverick

Saturday, October 24, 2026 • 7:30 PM
Auditorium Philms Presents
Edward Scissorhands In Concert – Live to Film
with the Chicago Philharmonic

Saturday, December 19, 2026 • 7:00 PM
Auditorium Philms Presents
Home Alone 2: Lost in New York – Live in Concert

For tickets and/or more information, visit https://www.auditoriumtheatre.org/events/buy-tickets/auditorium-philms.

There are thousands of stories you’d love to see brought to the stage. Stories that slip into the lives of people who walk through the world either unseen or are barely considered by those possessing more standard existences.  People who, because of the way they look or talk or are intrinsically wired to move through life find themselves on the periphery.  Or who mask their true selves by pretending to be something they’re not.  With all the same desires, hopes and dreams of a common human being, something about them hinders them from freely striving for type of self-actualization we all crave.

How they see themselves, relate to others and fulfill their aspirations can produce illuminating and often engrossing stories about who and what we, as a species, inherently are.  They’re in the family of stories queer focused About Face Theatre has been telling boldly and honestly since 1995.  And it’s current production by playwright Preston May Allen, Modern Gentleman, fits snugly in the theater company’s oeuvre of truth.  

By stepping into and exploring the life of Adam, a trans man living in present day New York, About Face again provides a platform to enlighten through alternative storytelling.  Uniquely structured, and under Landree Fleming’s novel direction, Modern Gentleman presents ideas, beliefs and circumstances that provoke serious and stimulating contemplation.  Despite all the things it either suggests or leaves a mystery, it’s the common threads of life that stand out most distinctly.

Passion, drama and rewardingly precocious humor are the trinity that pervade this profile of a person trying to live their most complete life in the gender they feel most comfortable. 

Its passion that opens the play as Adam (Alec Phan) and his girlfriend Lily (Kaylah Marie Crosby) tumble through the front door of Adam’s apartment tearing at each other’s clothes in their rush to get busy between the sheets.  A young articulate couple, they’ve been together for five years and have that satisfyingly acclimated aura of a happily nested pair.  The only odd note is that after a certain point, they seem to be a little awkward about undressing in front of one another.

It isn’t long before the barely visible specter of foreboding that steals over them gets pulled from the shadows.  Sometime since they’ve been together, Adam’s found the courage to confess his desire to transition from being a woman and become male.  When they originally met, they were two women, lesbians whose relationship led to love.  It may have been a startling revelation for Lilly. But that depends on the amount of candor that defined their union.  Others in her position would have left immediately.  Lilly stayed, but two years into a regimen of testosterone treatments and the transformation of her once girlfriend’s physical appearance, and Lilly is experiencing a change of heart.  She eventually tells Adam she can’t go do it and leaves. 

Her departure though doesn’t prove final.  She keeps resurfacing, coming back to the apartment to house sit and care for Adam’s diabetic cat when he needs to travel for work.  Stopping by repeatedly to clarify her position and probe his.  Through their back and forth, we get an enlightening, indeed an enlivened picture of the complexity and far-reaching ripple effects a single very personal decision can produce.

Because they’re both so expressive, so fluent in disclosing their innermost feelings, we learn the rupture isn’t at heart due to superficialities.  It seems to center on personal perception of self and how they both want to experience intimacy beyond sex.  

Because he has allies, Adam enjoys the benefit of other insights.  His friend Samuel (Omer Abbas Salem), whose “gayese” is superb and whose piquant wit is lined with razors, has tons of excellent advice.  Adam’s sister Natalie (Ashlyn Lozano) is equally supportive and just savvy as Sam.  We never know why neither Samuel or Natalie seem to care for Lily who, despite the amount of time she has on stage and the good sense she consistently demonstrates, seems bereft of boosters in her corner. 

A woman Adam meets at a family social event and eventually hooks up with, Alycia, played with wonderfully brash assurance by Emma Fulmer, helps paint a bracing image of what dating looks like 2 ½ decades into the 21^st century.  Through her frankness, she lets Adam get a clearer picture of how a trans man who hasn’t had any below the belt alterations can fit into today’s sexual cosmos.

Milo Bue’s subdued polished set offers an unobtrusive and pleasing backdrop to this edifying drama of the heart.  Ethan Korvne’s sound design and original music bring unexpected texture to Adam’s story and shows how well composed sound elements can complement dramatic theater.  And thanks to Catherine Miller’s cosmopolitan approach to casting, we gain a promising view into the possible. 

Language that sometimes strays toward the ponderous, and occasionally less than fluid scene transitions, prove only mildly distracting.  They don’t lessen the suspense of how Adam will come to fully accept himself as the man he now is rather than some fantasized ideal.  Nor do they leave us less curious of about how that kind of epiphany will impact his relationship with Lily.  

What Modern Gentleman does most gratifyingly is shed thoughtful and intelligently humane light on one of the unseen and unheralded in our midst to give us a fuller understanding of ourselves.

Modern Gentleman

Through April 18, 2026

About Face Theatre

Venue:  Raven Theater

6157 N. Clark Street

Chicago, IL  60660

For more information and tickets:   https://aboutfacetheatre.com

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

El último sueño de Frida y Diego is a love story that outlives the body, outlasts the grave, and keeps burning long after death has done its part.

Frida Kahlo famously said, ‘I’ve had two accidents that changed my life: one when I was hit by a trolley, and the other when I fell in love with Diego Rivera.”

And thus opens the first act of this beautiful dedication to the brilliant fiery artist, so far ahead of her time, the astonishing and disabled Frida Kahlo.

Composed by Gabriela Lena Frank with a libretto by Nilo Cruz, El último sueño de Frida y Diego arrives like a heat‑haze hallucination - lush, uncanny, and thrumming with a love that refuses to stay in the ground. It’s 1957, Día de los Muertos, and the opera drops us into a marigold‑drenched cemetery where the living coax their dead back for one brief visit. Diego Rivera, worn thin by grief and a stalled brush, isn’t there for tradition; he’s there to beg the universe for one more moment with Frida. His plea slices through the veil, catching the ear of an unassuming flower seller who promptly sheds her disguise to reveal Catrina, the regal, razor‑sharp Keeper of the Dead - and the only force powerful enough to answer him.

Deep in the shadowed sweep of Mictlán, Frida pushes back against the summons with the same fierce spark that once lit every brushstroke. Death has finally granted her the relief life never did - no shattered spine, no emotional whiplash, no Diego-shaped storm at her heels - and she has zero interest in reopening the wounds she fought so hard to leave behind.

“So much pain!” she cries again and again, swearing at the start of the production that she will never return to the world of the living - or to her love, Rivera - because of it.

But the underworld is anything but still - teeming with spirits who are playful, meddling, and aching for their own brief return. Among them is Leonardo, a young actor whose flair for drama and easy artistic kinship start to chip away at Frida’s resolve. As Catrina assembles the souls cleared for their 24‑hour crossing, Frida reluctantly lets herself be wrapped once more in the hues, textures, and contradictions of her earthly self. Bound by strict rules - no touching the living, no overstaying the day - she steps toward the world she swore off, setting the stage for a reunion as volatile as it is inevitable.

But she is urged by those on both sides of the afterlife to visit with Diego because spirits on both sides of the veil are ALSO missing her presence, her vibrant, dynamic and powerful personality and essence in a dark landscape of blacks and greys. Rivera and her family and friends on both sides of the veil would give anything to have her back with them to color and ignite their universe - even if only for a day.

And although Frida really does want to see Diego again, she is stopped by the memory of the torment she suffered emotionally in his arms and even more so the pain she suffered in her body from the horrific trolley accident that crippled her.

Ana Maria Martinez as Catrina, Alfredo Daza as Diego and Daniela Mack as Frida. 

Many times in the show, Frida sings about her extreme unrelenting physical pain. Kahlo’s paintings - often filled with blood, surgical imagery, and unfiltered grief - also gave voice to the extreme physical agony she endured throughout her chronically ill life. Frida endured surgery after surgery, yet none brought the relief she so desperately needed.

In the end, she chooses to return for her art - to see the colors again, the radiant “colors” she sings of in her paintings and in her lovingly adorned home. Kahlo also descends back into her pain‑ridden earthly body to answer Rivera’s desperate daily pleas - his prayers to her and to God to return and save him from a life emptied of inspiration, a life made unbearably lonely without her.

Kahlo and Diego had a tumultuous relationship marked by marital affairs on both sides, though Diego’s affair with Frida’s own sister caused their divorce. But their love was eternal and they remarried, and we’re together until Frida’s death 10 years later.

This production makes clear that although Diego Rivera was the more famous artist in their lifetime - the towering figure whose reputation often eclipsed Frida Kahlo’s - he relied on her completely, both for artistic inspiration and for the very shape of his life. Rivera even said that his greatest wish was to have his ashes buried with hers.

Finally, a production that honors a female artist not only for her public achievements but for her full humanity - one that is unabashedly in love with Frida herself, not just her legacy.

One of the production’s loveliest moments is a tableau where Kahlo’s most famous paintings step off the canvas and onto the stage. I only found myself wishing for projections - of the actors in their vivid recreations or of the paintings themselves - because the costumes and scenic artistry were so intricate and stunning that not everyone in the house could fully take them in. By then, the audience was aching to see her art come alive.

The company of El último sueño de Frida y Diego.

El último sueño de Frida y Diego is currently running at Lyric Opera House, performed entirely in Spanish with the full vocal score intact. English captions are projected overhead throughout, making the story and its emotional undercurrents easy to follow even if you don’t speak the language.

Directed by Lorena Maza with Roberto Kalb conducting, Lyric’s production fields a powerhouse ensemble, led by mezzo‑soprano Daniela Mack, who returns to the house with a Frida that’s all fire, fragility, and fiercely guarded autonomy. Opposite her, baritone Alfredo Daza makes a striking Lyric debut as Diego - his voice carrying the weight of a man haunted by the art he can’t finish and the woman he can’t release. Countertenor Key’mon W. Murrah, in a radiant Lyric debut, infuses Leonardo with a buoyant theatrical spark that lifts the energy of every scene entered. Meanwhile, Ana María Martínez turns Catrina into a study in imperious grace - her soprano gliding through the score with the kind of effortless authority that makes the boundary between worlds feel like something she can open and close at will.

Musically, the evening’s standout moments come through sweeping duets and emotionally charged arias - Frida’s defiant refusals, Diego’s grief‑soaked pleas, and shimmering ensemble passages that blur the line between the living and the dead. Gabriela Lena Frank’s score leans into lush orchestral colors, letting voices ride waves of percussion, strings, and folkloric textures that feel both ancient and startlingly alive, while the live orchestra - under Roberto Kalb’s precise, fiery baton - does far more than accompany, animating the realm around the singers and giving Mictlán its pulse, the cemetery its glow, and the lovers’ reunion its aching gravity.

Visually, El último sueño de Frida y Diego is a sensory feast - an opera that doesn’t just tell a story but paints one stroke by stroke right in front of you. The stage erupts in the saturated hues of Mexican folklore: cascades of marigolds, candlelit altars, and sweeping bands of cobalt and crimson that echo Rivera’s murals and the raw intimacy of Frida’s self‑portraits. The opening cemetery glows like a living ofrenda, its petals and lanterns shimmering in a soft, uncanny haze that makes the border between worlds feel thin, permeable, almost eager to be crossed.

Once the action plunges into Mictlán, the production morphs into a surreal, shadow‑rich dreamscape - floating fabrics drifting like lost souls or the hem of a woman’s skirt lifted by the wind, skeletal silhouettes stalking the edges of the frame, and sculptural lighting carving the darkness into something at once playful and faintly menacing. Spirits flash in and out like animated brushstrokes, their movement and costuming turning the underworld into a kinetic mural of the afterlife. And when Frida finally steps back into her earthly colors, the entire stage snaps into focus as a living canvas - bold, mythic, and charged with the emotional current of two artists whose love refuses to stay still.

El último sueño de Frida y Diego is being performed at Lyric Opera House through April 4^th. For tickets and/or more show information, click here.

Highly Recommended. 

Upcoming Performances:

March

• Mar 21 • 7:30 p.m.
• Mar 24 • 7:00 p.m.
• Mar 26 • 7:00 p.m.
• Mar 29 • 2:00 p.m.

April

• Apr 1 • 2:00 p.m.
• Apr 4 • 2:00 p.m.

Running Time: Approx. 2h 15m (one intermission)

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

Trapdoor Theatre’s “The Cuttlefish” ought to be confounding, but somehow this 1920’s surrealist play from Poland is clear as a bell. Though ostensibly about the philosophical struggle between art and politics, the audience easily recognized echoes of the present-day overall fix in which society finds itself.

Before any dialog, even before house lights go down, “The Cuttlefish, or the Hyrcanian Worldview” (its full title) opens somewhat bewilderingly on a stage with four characters: a masked, gold-clad Statue of Alice D’Or (Keith Surney), whose postures beside a short classic stone column suggest a Greek sculpture. Further backstage is a high ranking church cleric in mitre and liturgical robes, gesturing spiritually—Pope Julius II (Emily Lotspeich), patron of Raphael and Michelangelo. Stage left, a figure in a suit slouches and periodically collapses against a wall, the artist Pavel Rockhoffer (Nicole Wiesner). And a woman wanders, hands outspread—the Mother (Venice Averyheart) of Rockhoffer, who settles into a seat and manages percussion.

What is going on? The audience puzzles through these characters, trying to make sense of the silent tableau, and the lights go down and dialog begins. Rockhoffer has become pessimistic about his creative works, which we learn have been condemned by a government council. “My art is a lie, a carefully planned hoax,” says Rockhoffer.

“Even prisoners serving a life sentence still want to live,” the Statue offers. Along the way Julius remarks, “A man without a worthy adversary is like God without Satan,” and leaving, offers “I wish you a short and unexpected death.” With very little naturalism or conventional exposition, these snippets reveal the conflict that is to be resolved by the end of “The Cuttlefish.”

But it is with the arrival of King Hyrcan IV (David Lovejoy) when the story comes alive. A villainous despot, he smooth-talks Rockhoffer, coaxing him to abandon his dedication to absolute artistic ideals, and come on over to pragmatic freedom of Hyrcania, the land he rules.

Lovejoy is an energetic force on stage, and brings the play to life. “I am a superman, or ‘an uber mensch’” King Hyrcan declares, convincingly. He offers to unchain the artist from historic patronage of entities like Julius, and to have full freedom.
“What do you believe in?” queries Rockhoffer.

“In myself,” King Hyrcan shoots back, and as inexorably as the manosphere today sucks in its lost, wandering adherents, Rockhoffer, after a bit of resistance, falls under his spell. He obeys when Hyrcan tells him to jettison his fiance Ella (Gus Thomas), as unfitting for the new Hyrcanian order. King Hyrcan works his wiles on a weakened Julius, who admits to doubt and crumbles too.

As the action unfolds and the plot thickens, it becomes clearer that the times prophesied by “The Cuttlefish,” which unfolded in the rise of fascist Germany, offer parallels to today —when cultural centers are being expropriated and renamed, arts funding cancelled, and freedom of expression curtailed.

The magic of Trap Door is its penchant for mining an obscure work of 1920s playwright Stanislaw Witkiewicz (translated by Daniel Gerould) to find a work that is regarded as a precursor to later absurdist and expressionist stage works in the 1930s. Under the direction of Nicole Wiesner, what might have been an inscrutable drama instead is intuitively understandable. As we laugh with relief at the line, “One can only hope” (the Mother’s interjection about the end of such terrible times), we may be reminded of Kurt Vonnegut’s advice: “The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable.”

“The Cuttlefish, or the Hyrcanian Worldview” runs through April 25 at Chicago’s Trap Door Theatre and comes recommended.

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

The Oscars might be over, but this “Best Actress” is just getting started. Welcome to the weird world of the Grelley Duvall Show, or Alex Grelle. His unique approach to cabaret has amassed quite a fanbase over the years. Suffice it to say, there’s nothing else quite like it. In two acts, Grelle and his team blend his favorite female performances with highly choreographed musical numbers set to toe-tappin’ hits performed by a live band. 

Directed by Kasey Foster, “Best Actress” tells the origin story of the Grelley Duvall Show and what inspired a young Alex Grelle and his creative partner Jesse Morgan Young. Their obsessive knowledge of pop culture as seen through the lens of queer millennials is unmatched. They throw anything from a given day on cable TV in the 1990s into the blender and it’s up to the audience to keep up. The irreverent humor, costumes, and slickly produced video segments add up to an evening of hilarious deep cuts and surprise cameos.

To be honest, not all experimental cabaret style theatre is good. Rest assured Best Actress is not that. Rather it’s a 2-hour musical extravaganza with solid gold choreography by Erin Kilmurray and Kasey Alfonso and a kick-ass band led by (and featuring the vocals of) Aunt Kelly. Alex Grelle is a certified triple threat: he can sing, he can dance and he can kick. The team he’s assembled for this production has made something really special for anyone really, but especially for the pop culture obsessed, vintage shopping community.

Joining Grelle onstage is a powerhouse ensemble - Kara Brody, Madigan Burke, Lolly Extract, Darling Shear, Patrick Stengle, and Mary Williamson - plus a handful of puppets that feel like characters in their own right. And make no mistake: Grelle isn’t the only one throwing kicks. This cast matches his energy beat for beat, putting on quite a show. Again, Killmurray and Alfonso’s choreography is killer.

Grelley Duvall Best Actress is one of those shows it’s almost best to not know much about going in. It’s also one of those shows that should just run open-ended for a while, because once you see it, you’ll be trying to explain to people for weeks what exactly it was. 

Through April 12 at the Chopin Theatre. 1543 W Division St. 773-278-1500

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

“I just want to be entertained. Isn’t that the point?” asks the narrator of The Drowsy Chaperone. And if that indeed is the point, Theo Ubique’s rendition hit the bullseye.

This fun production follows a neurotic musical theatre fan (played by Steve McDonagh) who puts on his favorite record and talks about its fictional history. Thanks to Theo’s inventive seating – a front row made of sofas – the audience feels as if they’re actually in his living too, getting an intimate evening full of laughs as he and the rest of the cast break the fourth wall – even entering and exiting through closet.

The show-within-a-show follows a famous star, her fiancé, and the kooky cast of characters who try to help or hurt the impending nuptials for their own reasons. The result is a musical which never takes itself seriously, as it pokes fun at Broadway shows and troupes.

Everyone turns in a polished performance with each artist getting their moment to shine, whether it’s in a tap-dancing number (expertly accomplished by Trey Pluntnicki and Kevin Chlapecka), a silly vaudeville routine (Jenny Rudnick does enough spit takes to lose count), or a ballad about bunnies – yes, bunnies (sung by Kelsey MacDonald with all the heart and sincerity it needed).

As the “Man in the Chair,” McDonagh anchors the show in reality, but each performer holds the reigns of these larger-than-life characters with precision. Darian Goulding, embodies the Latin lover, Aldolpho, with inspired hilarity from his subtle gestures to that elevated accent. Jimmy Hogan and Chase Wheaton-Werle also stood out as gangsters posing as pastry chefs. Their playful banter and cohesion as a team elevated their numbers and helped sell the silly side plot. Colette Todd, who played the titular character, the Drowsy Chaperone herself, delivered a powerhouse tune with the perfect balance of comedy and chops.

From start to finish, it was clear that the actors were having fun, and their joy was certainly contagious. Directing this production is L. Walter Stearns, and his love of this show was clear in the care in which he handled the material, perhaps because directing The Drowsy Chaperone was a dream come true. In 2004, Stearns had the opportunity to attend an early reading of musical with Sutton Foster, who went on to star in the Broadway cast.

Written by Lisa Lambert and Greg Morrison (music and lyrics) with a book by Bob Martin and Don McKellar, The Drowsy Chaperone is not a deep musical, and it isn’t meant to be. Instead, it’s a reminder that comedy brings connection, and sometimes it’s okay to just want to be entertained.

The Drowsy Chaperone runs through April 19 at Theo Ubique Cabaret Theatre. For tickets and/or more information, click here.

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

Comedy Dance Chicago is bringing their family-friendly show to The Second City! (Fun fact: this group was born out of a Second City Training Center class back in 2014). The show is a high-energy laugh-riot for ages 5 to 95. Comedy Dance Chicago's joyful mashup of sketch comedy, physical humor, music, and dance is sure to have you (and your kids and their grandparents) smiling, laughing, and bopping in your seats! These dancin' fools bring relatable situations to life... anything from the importance of hugs to a good old-fashioned staring contest. And who knows, you might even find yourself on stage! Don't miss this joy-filled experience, perfect for anyone in need of a laughter boost.

People often ask "What is Comedy Dance?" Here's what audiences say:

     "It's one of the funniest, most enjoyable hours you'll spend on a Friday night."
-Chicago Reader

     "My face hurts from smiling!" & "That was so joyful!"

     ""We had SO much fun and Olivia giggled her little head off the whole time."
            -Blair (parent)

Comedy Dance Chicago presents HAPPY DANCE, Saturdays March 21, April 4, April 18, May 2, May 16, May 30 at 2:00pm at The Second City in the e.t.c Theater (230 W. North Ave., Piper's Alley, Chicago, IL). Show runs 60 minutes with no intermission. Tickets are $35 for adults and $29 for kids.

Notable credits include: "8-BITS" and "Oh, the Mundanity!" at The iO Theater; Toronto Sketch Comedy Festival, Charlotte's Queen City Comedy Experience; San Francisco Sketchfest; Laugh Out Loud Schaumburg; I AM Fest at House of Blues; Chicago Sketch Comedy Festival; Chicago Women's Funny Fest, Stevenson High School Odyssey Festival; among others. 

About Comedy Dance Chicago

Comedy Dance Chicago. A different kind of comedy show. A different kind of dance show. Unique entertainment for Chicago and beyond. But... what is comedy dance?! In Layman's terms: they dance, you laugh. Still confused? You'll just have to see it.

Comedy Dance Chicago has been delighting and entertaining audiences for over 10 years.  They are a turnkey option for performing arts venues, K-12 schools, colleges and universities, and corporate events looking to add joy to their next event. Company members bring a range of comedy and dance styles to the show and have trained with the Second City Training Center, iO Chicago, American Theatre Conservatory, Accademia dell'Arte, among others. Having performed at the Chicago Sketch Comedy Festival (Stage 773), iO Chicago, Dance Chicago (The Athenaeum Theatre), Woodstock Opera House, the Association of Applied and Therapeutic Humor Conference, and (that one time) at the House of Blues, Comedy Dance Chicago is thrilled to share laughs and spread the love of comedy dance to the rest of the US. 

Created in 1904, Giacomo Puccini’s Madama Butterfly has become one of the world’s greatest and most popular operas.  New York’s Metropolitan Opera alone had performed it 902 times prior to the beginning of its 2023-24 season.  Renowned for his gifts for melody, Puccini’s musical component is ravishingly beautiful.  His manner of intermixing cultural references into his orchestration also makes it exquisitely complex.  Enhanced with a gripping story about the power of trust and the fragility of love, Madama Butterfly qualifies as an irrefutable masterpiece. Throughout its existence though, the opera has also been an artistic triumph with issues.

An adaptation of a one-act play written in 1900, which itself was based on a short story by an American author, John Luther Long two years earlier, it’s been criticized as being a flawed fantasy.  One created by white men about the essence of another culture.  In this case, Japan.  In Madama Butterfly, an American, Lt. B. F. Pinkerton, arrives in the island country and soon begins a quest for love.  A love that he never plans to be lasting.  Once he returns state side, he’ll re-enter the mainstream and marry traditionally.

Since its origin, issues of perception and portrayal have always haunted Puccini’s Madama Butterfly.  He composed it in partnership with Giuseppe Giacosa and Luigi Illica who wrote the text or libretto.  For most of the opera’s existence, the way Japanese culture and its people were projected robbed them of dimension and ultimately diminished their humanity.  In both early productions of the opera and in virtually all that followed, Japanese men saw their virility erased while Japanese women watched their deference be reduced to an exaggerated docility.  As intrinsically lovely Madama Butterfly is as a creative jewel, for the Japanese people and many others of color, it has also been deeply problematic.

For Matthew Ozawa, Director and Chief Artistic Officer of the Lyric Opera of Chicago, it was as well.  As a Japanese-American director of operatic works, his relationship with Puccini’s masterpiece has been fraught.   He knew intrinsically as a director he could never present it in a conventional way.  If he were ever to take on the challenge of staging the piece, he would do it through more enlightened eyes.  The current production of Madama Butterfly he directs at the Lyric, running through April 12^th, shows how spectacular a 122-year-old classic can look and feel with a total makeover by a gifted artisan.

Ozawa’s Madama Butterfly, co-produced by the Cincinnati Opera, Pittsburg Opera, Detroit Opera and the Utah Opera, dismantles the old format and completely rebuilds it in a contemporary context.  The overhaul was so comprehensive, keeping the original orchestration and libretto unaltered and intact was a condition for greenlighting his vision.   

The Company of Madama Butterfly.

Like many men of his generation, Ozawa loved playing video games growing up.  It wasn’t a leap for him to envision Madama Butterfly taking on the features of a machine generated video game offering a portal to an alternate reality.  Pinkerton (tenor Evan LeRoy Johnson) would travel to Japan through his headset and begin a journey that would lead to the devastating consequences we all know will follow.

But first, like any talented leader, Ozawa needed to assemble a team to bring his concept to fruition.  Based on opening night’s performance at the Lyric, a better dream team probably doesn’t exist.  Recruiting all females as his key collaborators, who were either Japanese or Japanese-American, cultural accuracy and agency would no longer be a concern.  Each of them a heavy hitter in her respective craft, the composite experience they created was so remarkable it could easily be considered revelatory.  The superb impact of Kimie Nishikawa’s set designs and Yuki Nakase Link’s lighting talents made on the production’s visual potency and dynamism can’t be overstated. 

A muted background would suddenly blaze in dramatic color and fill with subtly ornate splendor when Pinkerton donned the goggles that would transport him to Japan. There, Maiko Matsushima’s costume designs bowled you away with their texture, imagination, sophistication and beauty.

Even when we first finally meet Cio-Cio-San, Butterfly, played by Karah Son, we’re visited with the unexpected.  She’s as small and delicate as butterflies are, but in her words and carriage you sense the steel in her spine.  At 15, she may have become a geisha to support herself, but she’s clearly proud of the fact that she’s also “well-bred”.   That inner dignity is an ever-present element of her character. 

Son has played this crucial character in houses around the globe; in her native Korea, Warsaw, Berlin, Bologna, Los Angeles and San Francisco just to list a few.  This production marks her Lyric debut.  She knows this part.  From the excellence of her soprano Saturday night, and the flawlessness of her acting abilities, she is this part.   

Johnson, a wonderful tenor who’s also making his debut at the Lyric, makes a compelling Pinkerton.  He doesn’t quite comprehend the import of his words when Sharpless (Zachary Nelson) tells him to “Be Careful, she trusts you”, until it’s too late.  Finally realizing what that trust has cost releases his humanity.  But it can’t stop the payment deception exacts.

In the final scene, where only pathos is expected, this presentation all but blinds you with the complex beauty of real life through the fiction of a story.  Ozawa’s brilliant directing, Son’s gifts as a marvelous actress/vocalist and Puccini’s stunning score converge to cause the soul to quake.  

Puccini’s Madama Butterfly now truly soars.

Madama Butterfly

Through April 12, 2026

Lyric Opera of Chicago

20 N. Wacker Drive

Chicago, IL  60606

For more information and tickets:   https://www.lyricopera.org

Highly Recommended

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

King Odysseus returns home to Ithaca after twenty years’ absence: ten years’ fighting the Trojan War (it takes time to build a big enough wooden horse), followed by a ten-year journey during which everything that could go wrong does go wrong: think rush-hour traffic on the Kennedy under construction. When he finally arrives, Odysseus finds yet another complication: in his absence a hundred men have undertaken to lay claim to his throne, actually taking up residence in Odysseus’ palace, scarfing down his harvests, seducing his servants, and harassing his wife.

Penelope has made every effort to discourage the putative suitors, her most recent gambit being a challenge to string Odysseus’ mighty bow, then use it to shoot an arrow through a line of a dozen axe handles. That’s pretty serious and, unsurprisingly, none of the opportunists manages. Everyone is amazed therefore when a stranger (Odysseus disguised as a beggar) nails it. The disappointed contenders aren’t happy about this, and are further aggrieved when the ‘beggar’ throws off his rags, identifies himself, and advises the intruders to hit the road.

Odysseus, legitimately vexed at the situation, answers their disgruntlement with violence and all hundred freeloaders are … well, the proper verb is in question, as it’s unclear whether Odysseus righteously executes or viciously murders them. This is the issue we explore in TRIAL OF ODYSSEUS: is Odysseus a champion, heroically defending his title, his home, and his family? Or is he a villain, goaded by jealous rage into a frenzy of unwonted slaughter?

TRIAL OF ODYSSEUS was … what to call it? to be honest it was not truly theater. TRIAL OF ODYSSEUS was presented as an actual trial, with Antonio M Romanucci and Daisy Ayllón of Romanucci & Blandin LLC prosecuting and Patrick M. Collins and Tinos Diamantatos of King & Spalding LLP arguing for the defense. A panel of four judges (Georgia M Alexakis, Sara L Ellis, Jeffrey G Chrones and Anthony C. Kyrikopoulos) and twelve jurors examined and cross-examined both the witness Phimeus (Leonardo Sfondouris) and Odysseus, played by Christos Vasilopoulos.

The final decision, however, was ours. Each audience member was provided with their choice of two tokens, blue for guilty and white for innocent. At the close of examination these tokens were collected and their count served as the verdict: Odysseus was found Not Guilty., I suspect that those voting Guilty did so from the viewpoint of twenty-first century law. I can’t believe anyone in the Bronze Age, roughly 1200 BCE, would not fully sympathize with Odysseus’ reaction, however grisly.

I’m totally ignorant of judicial matters, and someone better acquainted with legal procedure might have found problems with how the trial was portrayed, but I thought it was as credible as it was entertaining. For one, it certainly reflected the delay encountered in our modern magisterial system, as the event under arbitration occurred more than 3,000 years ago. A real trial for first-degree murder would probably incorporate less humor, but the Court had no difficulty drawing parallels across the three-millennium time difference; many of these comments were quite amusing and were certainly appreciated by the audience.

TRIAL OF ODYSSEUS was instructive, engaging, and just plain fun! The bad news is that it was a single production; there will be no further performances. But keep your eye on the National Hellenic Museum, as they offer regular events and exhibitions.

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

Get ready - those phones are about to explode, and Sam is already spinning like a top trying to catch every single one. It’s a full‑blown ring‑storm, and he’s diving into it with the hectic energy of someone who knows the chaos is coming and still can’t outrun it.

A brisk, razor‑funny powder keg of a play, Fully Committed tracks a single frantic day in the life of Sam, the lone reservationist at one of Manhattan’s most elite - and most impossible - restaurant. Becky Mode’s script is a full‑tilt high‑wire act, and Mike Newquist tears across nearly forty characters with the kind of breakneck precision that makes your head spin. As Sam, he’s already a live wire - but then he’s also snapping into entitled celebrities, neurotic assistants, tyrannical chefs, and every flavor of fine‑dining madness that dares to ring his desk. It’s dazzling, anxious, and wildly fun to watch him juggle it all without ever dropping the thread. The comedy snaps because each character is so sharply etched, and Newquist seamlessly shifts among them with the kind of finesse that turns mayhem into art.

At its heart, the nearly 90-minute play gleefully skewers the rituals of status and the agitated, almost feral hunger for exclusivity, exposing just how ridiculous people become when a reservation turns into a badge of power. Sam becomes the unseen fulcrum of that world, and his day unravels from merely hectic to outright surreal as he absorbs tantrums, negotiates impossible demands, and fights to keep a grip on his own sense of worth. Watching Newquist as Sam behind that reservation desk in a constant tinderbox had me instantly aware that I wouldn’t survive two hours in his shoes. His frantic charm and barely contained panic sells the chaos and sparks a whole new respect for the people who actually thrive in that kind of daily combustion.

Fully Committed lands as hard as it does because it’s rooted in real industry absurdity. Mode shaped these characters straight out of real restaurant‑world encounters, giving the show a mix of satirical whirlwind and a bite of truth that feels both sharply recognizable and wickedly real.

Throughout the play, I loved how Sam’s dad kept slipping into the heavy commotion with that gentle, grounding voice - just long enough to let the whole room exhale. Each time he called, Sam’s entire demeanor flipped in an instant; you could watch him go from frazzled to peaceful like someone had hit a reset switch. Those brief check-ins made it clear how a few steady words from a gentle, supportive father (or friend/family member) can cut straight through the noise, offering a tiny pocket of calm even when everything else is burning down around him.

Mike Newquist is pure kinetic joy onstage, delivering a commanding turn in Fully Committed. The Chicago‑based actor and improviser thrives in the city’s storefront trenches, bouncing between sharp‑edged comedy, character chameleon work, and the kind of ensemble disorder where anything can - and usually does - happen. He’s popped up with PrideArts, AstonRep, and The Comrades, tackling everything from contemporary drama to high-velocity comic mayhem. In Fully Committed, it’s his quick‑switch agility that makes him a blast to watch.

Directed by Derek Bertelsen, this Chicago staging arrives with a jolt of fresh energy and real immediacy. Newquist’s performance becomes the engine that drives the whole night, while Bertelsen keeps the momentum razor‑sharp, the pacing tight, and every character shift snapping cleanly into place.

The Den Theatre hosts the run March 13–28, 2026, with performances on Friday and Saturday nights at 7:30 p.m. Tickets for Fully Committed at The Den Theatre are just $26. For tickets and/or any more show information, click here.

Recommended.

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