Displaying items by tag: Elizabeth MacDougald

Let me start by saying: this play is not for anyone unfamiliar with feminine rage. While I’m all for experiential desensitization, diving straight into a show all about female “hysteria,” periods, witches, and penis-biting might be a bit much for your first swim.

You don’t need to be a woman to enjoy it, but there’s a particular subset of audience members who might find themselves squirming in their seats. And that’s fine. Not all art needs to be for everyone. That said, for anyone personally acquainted with (or at least comfortable around) Millennial and Gen-Z “femme fury”, Director Kayla Menz’s production of The Sporting Life is a riot that will have you laughing from beginning to end.

The six-person cast is stellar:

Ziare Paul-Emile – as Dot, the main character and high school girl – shines as she causes the entire play to unfold. Starting off as the sweet, behind-her-peers type, Paul-Emile continues to add on new layers to Dot, masterfully and constantly shifting her conviction. Each shift feels performative in the best way: showing the audience both her growing façade and the fragile, adolescent truth beneath it.

Tyara Whitted – as Dot’s best friend, Mikayla – is one of the funniest actors I’ve seen on stage. Whiteed’s delivery of every line was impeccable, hilarious, and perfectly conveyed her character’s too-eager-to-grow-up nature. Mikayla later finds herself in an abusive relationship, which Whitted handles the material with rare nuance, conveying both the pain and the impossible contradictions of still loving someone who hurts you.

Elizabeth Macdougald – as Sherry, the witch – is an absolute force of nature. Spunky, raunchy, and wickedly funny, Macdougald is the (by technicality) antagonist that you can’t help but love. Although arguably being the source of the play’s chaos, she also grounds it with a mix of blunt and maternal tenderness throughout.

Bryan Breau – as Dot’s dad – is the quintessential bewildered girl dad. Fumbling through his best attempts to understand his daughter, his earnestness carries the father-daughter relationship at the heart of the play.

Last but certainly not least, Ian Mason and Bill Daniel round out the cast, playing every. other. character. Collectively playing at least 8 distinct characters, the duo’s range was incredible. Both Mason’s and Daniel’s physical comedy abilities are like none other, from larger-than-life reactions to painfully believable combat and stunt choreography.

From a production standpoint, I have to give enormous credit to the team’s handling of blood. In case you’ve never worked with it, stage blood is notoriously difficult: just when you think you’ve solved one logistical challenge, five more appear. I have nothing but admiration for the technical crew’s ambition and precision. Most plays save blood for the final moments, so cleanup only happens once, but The Sporting Life opens with a full-on blood spray within the first five minutes. And it just keeps coming.

That commitment is both hilarious and impressive. Not only does it demand careful coordination from the crew, but it also requires the cast to maintain a constant, almost subconscious awareness of every inch of the stage. The blood remains throughout the show, forcing the actors to adapt in real time: lying down carefully to avoid accidental gore in quieter scenes, or using existing puddles to amplify the chaos in violent ones. It’s a masterclass in controlled mess – a game of theatrical chess played with absolute effortlessness.

As the world premiere of Playwright Marjorie Muller’s newest script, there’s definitely room for iteration. The play was advertised as running 1 hour and 40 minutes, but it clocked closer to two hours with no intermission – and I felt it. The ending, in particular, seemed to have an ending tacked onto an ending, creating the sense of a partial conclusion before launching into another. This extended the runtime and diluted some of the sharp focus and wit that made the first two-thirds so strong. Structurally, the piece could benefit from rethinking that final stretch, whether by adding an intermission to give the audience a breather or by condensing and reworking the conclusion into a single, more cohesive ending. Either route would help preserve momentum and leave the show on the high note it earns during the majority of the play.

That said, for a modern, edgy comedy, the writing overall is excellent. One of my biggest pet peeves is when playwrights overdo emotional or “hysterical” female characters, veering into mockery instead of authenticity. Speaking as a former 15-year-old girl: yes, it’s funny to look back and realize how seriously we took small things – but at the time, those things really did feel like the end of the world. The Sporting Life captures that perspective without condescension. It’s a fine line between humor and misogyny, and this play walks it with grace, empathy, and a sharp sense of humor.

The Sporting Life is running at Factory Theater through November 22nd. Tickets are available at: 

https://thefactorytheater.com/portfolio/the-sporting-life/

https://thefactorytheater1.thundertix.com/events/245024. 

The Tempest is Shakespeare’s final play, and one could argue that he saved the best for last, skillfully presented by Idle Muse Theatre Company. At intermission I overheard two young women expressing surprise at ‘how they can do so much in so little space!’  Clearly, they were habitues of traditional venues like the Goodman and Nederlander theatres, and I simply had to interrupt them to sing the praises of Chicago’s numerous and thoroughly excellent storefront theatres. As I’ve often said, theatre takes on a special glow when you’re watching from within the players’ pheromone clouds.

As with most of the Bard’s works, The Tempest uses many characters to enact a labyrinthine plot. Prospero (Elizabeth MacDougald ^she/her) is the former Duke of Milan, deposed and exiled with his infant daughter Miranda (Caty Gordon ^she/her) to this remote and (seemingly) uninhabited island, where he has raised his child while evolving himself into a powerful sorcerer. As the play begins Prospero is using his magic to create a raging storm to wreck the ship carrying the despots who usurped his dukedom: his conniving brother Antonio (Orion Lay-Sleeper^he/him), King Alonzo (Jack Sharkey ^he/him), with his son Ferdinand (Boomer Lusink ^he/him), and Uncle Tom Cobbleigh and all ….

When Prospero arrives on the island, he finds that, contrary to expectation, it is inhabited, by Caliban (Jennifer Mohr ^she/her), whom Prospero rescues from the spell previously laid on him. Unfortunately, Caliban retaliates this largesse with brutish behavior. Prospero, fearing Caliban’s conduct might injure the growing child Miranda, enslaves him.

Prospero meets yet another islander, Ariel, a cosmically powerful air spirit whom he frees from captivity. Ariel shows more gratitude than Caliban, protecting both Prospero and the child, now seventeen years old (but still, of course, an infant in her father’s eyes).  Ariel is also handy for whipping up tempests at sea and befuddling shipwrecked aristocrats. Director Brandon cleverly casts Ariel six times: Mara Kovacevic ^she/her, Gary Henderson^he/him, Connar Brown^she/her, Emely Cuestas^she/her, Jacque Bischoff ^she/her, and Emily Pfriem ^she/her. These six capering sprites are all equally adroit in the use of magic and music, and all beholden to Prospero for their … well, not actually freedom, as they’re still indentured to Prospero, but at least they’re no longer trammeled in a tree.

[Are you getting the idea that Prospero is a bit of a control freak (to use a common Shakespearian term)?]

Ariel(s) leads Ferdinand (the King’s son, remember?) to meet Miranda, and the two adolescents fall instantaneously, fervently and immitigably in love (as you do). Elsewhere on the island King Alonso, with his friend Gonzalo (Xavier Lagunas ^he/him), his brother Sebastian (Eric Duhon ^he/him), and Prospero’s insidious brother Duke Antonio are having vile and nefarious adventures whilst the heartbroken King searches for his son. Ariel(s) saved these folks from the sinking ship, but also made sure to bespeckle them far and wide across the island. Court jester Trinculo (Joel Thompson ^he/him) and his friend the King’s butler Stephano (Michael Dalberg ^he/him) fall in with Caliban, whom they woo with the barrel of wine Stephano serendipitously rode to shore from the wreck.

There! Got all that? I’ve by no means covered all Shakespeare’s storylines, threads, scenarios and subplots, but you can get those from Cliff’s Notes; I’m here to talk about all the other artists.

As is to be expected from Idle Muse, all were excellent. I admit I’ve come to rather take for granted that the talent on a [small!] Chicago stage will be extraordinary; in particular I trust Idle Muse not to disappoint me. From MacDougald’s Prospero to the six Ariels; from Boomer Lusink’s lordly Ferdinand to Orion Lay-Sleeper’s rascally Antonio, every character was enacted deliciously. Though the story began with darkness, rolling thunder and vast waves, humor began peeking through early, and by Act II we were all laughing.

Those who’ve been reading my reviews know that I don’t pretend to be fair and even-handed; I always have favorites!  In The Tempest my first and foremost fave was Ariel #2, Gary Henderson. His Ariel couldn’t help standing out on account of being the only cis-male Faerie (sic), but I really just liked his style – dancing about the stage with bells, on hands and knees barking at miscreants, snooping into secret plots … whatever Henderson’s Ariel was up to, he was a delight! I also loved Joel Thompson’s Trinculo; paired with Michael Dahlberg’s Stephano they were a swilling and snarfing version of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, with terrific comedic timing.

Director Tristan Brandon ^he/him not only directed but adapted this production of The Tempest as well. In his splendid From the Director note he reminds us that The Tempest is about relationships and family, begotten and chosen.  The Tempest illustrates that, as humans can’t help being human, with human virtues and failings, the most critical aspect of relationships is forgiveness: we must be incessantly forgiving each other – and ourselves – for being human. Brandon’s Assistant Libby Beyreis ^she/her was also Violence Designer, appropriately, acknowledging the dichotomous but related aspects of violence and forgiveness. Balancing these was Maureen Yasko ^she/her as Intimacy Designer.

The set was perfect, spare yet evocative, under the combined attentions of Scenic Painter Breezy Snyder ^she/they with Scenic Designers Laura J. Wiley ^she/her and Tristan Brandon; these two, with Artistic Director Evan Jackson ^he/him, also designed the props, and Laura Wiley ^she/her brought the puppets to life.

[BTW, I hope you’re noticing names being repeated. When a relatively small company is mounting grandiloquent and multidimensional productions (like anything by Shakespeare!), considerable multitasking is required. Thus one sees much overlap, as well as inclusion of cast members, in Production.]

I was enchanted by Jennifer Mohr’s ^she/her costumes and Jacque Bischoff’s ^she/her makeup. The Ariels were captivating with twinkle-lights under tulle skirts and transcendental makeup. Prospero’s magical coat was stunning, and I loved that many of the costumes had corset-style lacing in back; creates such a sense of glamorous antiquity (ancient glamor? whatever)! Trinculo sported mismatched socks, with dissimilar shoes as well. The core values of Idle Muse Theatre Company are True, Timely, and Transporting; between them Mohr and Bischoff made each character totally True.

The same can be said for Laura J Wiley’s ^she/her Lighting Design which, with Kati Lechner ^she/her directing L.J. Luthringer’s ^he/him sound and music compositions, created a multisensory domain accordant with all the disparate scenes, from a raging storm to a quiet family home and to the Ariel(s)-bewitched wildwood, certainly fulfilling the core value of Transporting. Much of this I attribute also to Stage Manager Becky Warner ^she/her and her Associate Lindsey Chidester ^she/her. Pulling all these diverse variants together into a smooth, tangible, inclusive Truth can only happen when excellent direction of a superlative cast is so masterfully Managed as to unite all elements.

Idle Muse’s third core value is Timely, and what could be timelier in the American election year of 2024 than a production that transports us to the Truth? It’s tempting to draw comparisons between fictional and political characters, but it’s unnecessary. The Tempest’s fundamental, essential message is about forming and maintaining relationships: between parents and children, teachers and students, leaders and followers. Forming and maintaining relationships is basic, but never simple, and always requires mutual and correspondent forgiveness.

I recently encountered a new word that I like very much: Ubuntu, or ‘I am because we are’. This term originates from the Zulu and Xhosa languages, and it loosely translates to ‘humanity towards others’. In honor of Bilbo’s and Frodo’s birthdays (as well as my own!), I offer it here in Elvish (Ariel-ish?) Tengwar script:

The Tempest is 2½ hours long, including one intermission.

The Tempest plays at The Edge Off-Broadway through October 20; last nights’ performance was sold out so I VERY Highly Recommend you get your tickets early!