Displaying items by tag: Juliet Kang Huneke

With the mesmerizing hold of a Moth Hour radio story and the visual creativity of the (late, lamented) Redmoon Theatre show, Trap Door Theatre’s production of “A Devil Comes To Town,” is so incredibly good that I urge you to stop reading this review and just get a ticket.

Here’s why.

First: there is the source material., adapted and directed by Jeremy Ohringer from a novel by Italian author Paolo Maurensig from his elegantly crafted 2018 page-turner (from the English translation by Anne Milano Appel). This gripping yarn and its magnetic charm is distilled creatively into Ohringer’s script - maintaining the dramatic tension of the original book, concentrating it into a 60-minute elixir of a story that moves with compelling interest to its satisfying resolution. The promotional thumbnail captures its well: “In a town obsessed with writing, the arrival of a mysterious devilish publisher sets off a sinister chain of events, as literary ambition turns feral.”

Second: The tiny Trap Door Theatre becomes, through ingenious stagecraft, a magical window to one delightful scene after another - sometimes worlds away. Simple practical effects with lighting, puppetry, scale models, and even a shadow lantern delight in their simplicity, pulling our attention despite our surfeit of exposure to perfect CGI recreations in film and gargantuan stage machinery on Broadway. Credit Ohringer in his direction, Karen Wallace for lighting design, Saskia Bakker for puppet design, Finnegan Chu for costumes, and Oskar Westbridge on sound design and as stage manager.

The play, like Maurensig’s novella, is set in Switzerland, opening at a conference in Kusnacht for professional psychologists at which a parish priest, Father Cornelius, delivers a paper on the prevalence of human manifestations of Satan. Afterward he returns to his home village of Dichtersruhe, population 1,000, where indications of an inordinate interest begin to appear among many townsfolk - the butcher, the baker, children, shopkeepers, a senescent cleric - all begin writing manuscripts for publication by major book publishers.

A subplot on a rise of rabid foxes adds zest to the storyline, and a shadowy past for Father Cornelius adds intrigue. The fixation by the townsfolk with being published mirrors in so many ways the passion for TikTok influencer status, while the presentation of the publishing storyline reminds us of the cunning self-publishing hucksters that abound.

In the stage adaptation of the book, Ohringer gives us five actors playing Father Cornelius, with Shail Modi in a stunning performance as the principle one. Ohringer has inventively choreographed the performances of these Father Cornelius characters, at times having them march and prance in lockstep together. The four other Father Cornelius figures (Dina Berkeley, Juliet Kang Huncke, Lydia Moss, and Y’vonne Rose Smith) serve as a kind of chorus that doubles as the author’s omniscient voice and general exposition. These four at various points take on other roles as well, Y’vonne Rose Smith particularly notable as the devilish publisher, Dr. Fuchs, and Lydia Moss as the decrepit cleric Father Christoforo. Dinah Berkeley is a manic delight in several roles.

Indescribably good, really, “A Devil Comes To Town” comes highly recommended and has already had its run extended, playing through December 6 at Trap Door Theatre, 1655 W Cortland St in Chicago. Don’t miss it.

CYMBELINE? CYMBELINE?? I’d not even heard of Shakespeare’s CYMBELINE. Wikipedia admits it’s “one of Shakespeare’s lesser-know plays”. There’s a great deal of speculation on the whys and wherefores of its obscurity but now I know the answer: CYMBELINE has remained largely unknown because it hadn’t yet been played by Midsommer Flight.

There’s debate over CYMBELINE’s genre – tragedy? comedy? romance? – but Midsommer Flight’s Director (and founder) Beth Wolf is absolutely certain: CYMBELINE is a comedy, and a hilarious one! While staying true to the original script, she has directed the (superb) actors to make it incredibly funny by via expressions, postures, and gestures.

The storyline is as simple and convoluted as all The Bard’s plays. King Cymbeline (Barry Irving) lost his sons Arvirargus (Juliet Kang Huneke) and Guiderius (Logan UhiwaiO’Alohamailani Rasmussen), kidnapped in infancy and raised by Belarius (Jessica Goforth). Cymbeline is therefore determined to get a true-born prince by marrying his daughter Imogen (Ashley Graham) to dreadful prince Cloten (John Drea), royal son of his Queen (Talia Langman). Imogen, however, has fallen in love with and secretly married a commoner who was orphaned at birth and therefore named Posthumous (Keenan Odenkirk) [and they wonder if this is a comedy??]. King Cymbeline learns of the nuptials and banishes Posthumous to Italy, leaving Imogen to fend off the loathsome advances of nasty little Prince Cloten.

Meanwhile, the evil Queen plots to murder both Imogen and Cymbeline using a deadly poison concocted by Doctor Cornelius (Jillian Leff), But Cornelius, no stoopnagel, suspects funny business (the wrong kind) and hands over a harmless sleeping draft. The Queen passes the potion to Imogen & Posthumus’ loving servant Pisanio (Bradley Halverson), telling her it’s a medicine.

In Italy Posthumous meets Iachimo (Shane Novoa Rhoades), a dodgy sort of bloke with whom the gullible (not to say rather thick) Posthumous makes a most imprudent wager: Iachimo bets that he can seduce Posthumous’ wife Imogen snicker-snatch (erm … sorry, snicker-snack). Imogen retains her virtue, but Macho Man Iachimo can’t accept being trounced (Italian, remember?), and presents false evidence of her capitulation to Posthumous.

When Pisiano (the faithful servant who everyone confides in} tells Imogen of Iachimo’s treachery the irate young princess determines to find Posthumous and set the record straight. Imogen shows herself smarter than her boo by dressing as a boy for safer travel. She christens her trans self Fidele, for faithful.

Etcetera, etcetera, and so forth. I don’t think it’s much of a spoiler to disclose that, after various sophistry, skullduggery, knavery and chicanery, everyone is reunited, reinstated, and restored. All the bad guys are foiled, and a happy ending is had by all – all the good guys, any road.

Typical Shakespeare, yeah?

Jillian Leff as Doctor Cornelius in Midsommer Flight's 'Cymbeline'.

What’s not so typical is Midsommer Flight’s management of this gallimaufry.

This is the third year I’ve reviewed a Midsommer Flight production and I’ve been consistently impressed, but CYMBELINE was more than impressive – it was truly awesome.

Founded in 2012, it is Midsommer Flight’s mission to bring quality, accessible performances of Shakespeare to Chicago communities. Accessible is key here: too many people don’t bother to even try understanding Shakespeare’s vexatious language and convoluted plots. Midsummer Flight makes this intimidating material accessible at several levels: financially by offering all performances for free, culturally by casting diverse artists, textually by working with actors to bring iambic pentameter into comprehensible language, geographically by touring to different areas of the city, and physically by performing in public spaces – specifically, Chicago Parks. I saw CYMBELINE last weekend, July 14, in Gross Park. Each weekend they’ll perform Friday and Saturday night in a different park: Kelvyn Park at Logan Square, Nichols in Hyde Park, Lincoln Park, and Touhy in Rogers Park. Check Midsommer Flight’s website for details.

The performance is prefaced by the actors briefly outlining the plot to orient the audience to the play’s action; this Cliff’s Notes intro was really helpful. Midsummer Flight also offers musical diversion from a troupe of five minstrels (Jessica Goforth, Bradley Halverson, Juliet Kang Hunecke, Jillian Leff, Andi Muriel, and Aloha Rasmussen); there are also a few a capella songs, all composed and directed by Jack Morsovillo.

Scenic and Props Designer Jeremiah Barr manages the problems of an outdoor setting by wisely choosing Less is More. The sets, after all, will travel to several different open-air stages, so he keeps them starkly uncluttered. Likewise, Costume Designer Rachel M Sypniewski makes simple cloaks and mantles that can be donned in a tent, yet vividly distinguish the characters.

CYMBELINE, like all Shakespeare’s plays, includes quite a bit of intimacy and fighting (though the beheading occurs offstage), deftly directed by Maureen Yasko, Jillian Leff, and Chris Smith. Stage Manager Hazel Marie Flowers-McCabe, with assistant Ayla Sweet, keep the proceedings vigorous and vivacious without degenerating into pandemonium.

Special kudos to Text Coach Meredith Ernst! As I said earlier, making iambic pentameter comprehensible is a major problem with Shakespeare, but in CYMBELINE I heard and understood virtually every word. And congratulations, of course, to Director Beth Wolf and Assistant Christina Casano, who transformed an undistinguished and ambiguous play into a thoroughly successful comedy.

The actors, of course. They made innuendos and improper phrases irresistibly funny, using facial expressions, posture, gesture, and all the other tricks in an actor’s toolbox. A special shout-out is due to Jillian Leff, who made the stodgy Doctor thoroughly waggish. It takes a gifted actor to have the audience howling through her report from of the Queen’s deathbed.

Bradley Halverson’s Pisanio was also prime. Shakespeare doesn’t usually give much stage time to menial characters, but Pisiano was a key role, juggling allegiances from all-powerful King and Queen to beloved Imogen and Posthumous. 

My absolute favorite was John Drea as the ghastly prince Cloten. His comedic gestures hovered perilously close to slapstick – jumping up and down and shaking his fists like a tantruming toddler – but he remained safely high camp without descending into pratfall – hysterically funny but never Three Stooges.

Comedy was amplified by the actors often playing directly to the audience, winking to bring us in on a joke or making us complicit with an aside. This can be difficult to manage without breaking character or disrupting flow, but this cast pulled it off without a bobble – good work, Casting Director Karissa Murrell Myers!

Well, that’s about it for my review. In short: CYMBELINE by Midsommer Flight is absolutely marvelous – see it!! It’s playing through August at various Chicago Parks – find the one you want to visit and bring lawn chairs and a picnic, like at Ravinia.

But wait just a tic: in these perilous times I needs must append some commentary.

As MAGA condemns drag shows and bans books, they would do well to wipe the shelves of Shakespeare, for his plays are rife with gender fluidity. At the Globe all female parts were, of course, played by cross-dressing males, who enacted romance and desire with the other male actors – men kissing men right there on the stage OMG! Gender-swapping characters, like Imogen/Fidele in Cymbeline, are key in As You Like It, Merry Wives of Windsor, The Merchant of Venice, and of course Twelfth Night. Gender is also critically explored in tragedies like Hamlet and Othello, and Lady Macbeth’s dominance over her husband is totally discordant with societal expectation. Her cry, “Unsex me!” hints that Shakespeare found much amiss in Elizabethan society's dictum of “the natural order”.

Same-sex romance is acceptable in Shakespeare as well. In Twelfth Night, Duke Orsini falls in love with the young man Cesario, but is undismayed when ‘he’ is revealed as Viola (though he continues to refer to her as ‘boy’ during his proposal). Boy, girl … whatever, he wants it. His wife Olivia also falls for Cesario, largely because she admires ‘his’ feminine ways, and when she marries Viola’s twin Sebastian (believing him to be Cesario/Viola), he assures her that, like ’Cesario’, he is ‘both maid and man’.

The Buggery Act of 1530 made sodomy a capital offense and punishable by death, defining the rigid expectations of heterosexuality. Still, 17^th century England saw many examples of same-sex relationships: King James I and King William III, for example, each had several male lovers. We can assume that what went on in the King’s chambers was also happening in less august beds. After all, gender fluidity was a cornerstone of the Elizabethan rule. In her oration to the troops gathered to fight the Spanish Armada Elizabeth says, “I know I have the body but of a weak and feeble woman; but I have the heart and stomach of a king, and of a king of England ....” Good ol’ Liz. I’ve always liked her.

In high school I was fascinated with Henry VIII and his desperate attempts to wring a healthy boy from his pox-ridden testicles. Then his daughter, the child he disowned and condemned (not to mention orphaned) goes on to become one of England’s most revered sovereigns. Take that Henry, you misogynistic, mistaken, misanthropic, myopic, misguided monomaniacal monarch! I’ve always loved that by the time he got to his sixth wife Henry was actually henpecked – though his brain was tapioca by then; he may not even have noticed.

But I digress.

SEE CYMBELINE!! Even if … especially if you don’t like Shakespeare.