Displaying items by tag: Anthony Irons

I arrived at the Goodman Theatre for the opening of its 47^th annual production of A Christmas Carol, directed by Jessica Thebus, like many of us—not really feeling the upcoming holidays. I’m usually a real Pollyanna, trying to put on the happy face. I’m usually Bob Cratchit, the good soldier. I’m Tiny Tim Cratchit, even, throwing around “God bless us, everyone” like it’s tinsel. But not this year. This year, I got to the Goodman feeling like a regular Scrooge. And then I walked into the lobby and the whole thing hit me like a series of middle-of-the-night spectral visits upon a four-poster bed. It changed me.

From the balcony above we were greeted by Benet Academy’s Madrigal Singers, sprinkling down on us carol after carol. Seated next to a large, unlit Christmas tree was William Buchholtz, a Native American flautist and a haunting caroler himself. Thebus, back for her fourth Goodman production of this holiday favorite, addressed the audience, lighting the tree and spreading some cheer—and we hadn’t even found our seats yet.

Once the show began, the sets by Todd Rosenthal transported us back to a different beautiful but bleak era—Dickensian England. All of the trappings one expects of A Christmas Carol are there. Muffed carolers, chestnut peddlers and poultry peddlers, and Scrooge & Marley’s beckoning lending house. There we meet Christopher Donahue’s Ebenezer Scrooge—mutton-chopped and hunched and as unhappy as we expect Scrooge to be. But that darkness, very real and very dark, is constantly counteracted by the radiance of the rest of the cast. Anthony Irons’ Bob Cratchit, cheerful charity collectors played by Penelope Walker and Wai Kim, and Dee Dee Batteast’s ever-loving niece all fend off Scrooge’s glare and gruffness by not even acknowledging his grinchiness—their world, while perhaps less financially happy than Scrooge’s, is a completely separate and better world emotionally than his, down to the vibrant colors of their costumes.

(L-R) Anthony Irons, Christopher Donahue, Ava Rose Doty, Xavier Irons, Henry Lombardo, Isabel Ackerman, Viva Boresi, Tafadzwa Diener and Susaan Jamshidi.

Once back at Scrooge’s house (whose ghastly door knocker made both me and my young daughter jump, even though I knew what was coming) we are surrounded by this bleak world this miserable old miser’s made for himself. It’s drafty and dark and dusty and the perfect place for the jarring arrival of Scrooge’s long-dead partner, Jacob Marley, played by William Dick.

The sights and sounds of Marley’s visit are frightening, even when expected, but they contrast the joy and light spread by the first two spirits who visit Scrooge once Marley departs. Lucky Stiff’s Ghost of Christmas Past is buoyant and bright and over the top—meant to get Scrooge’s attention and ours. The spirit transports us all back in time where our hearts break along with a young Ebenezer Scrooge, portrayed brilliantly by Henry Lombardo, and then leap across the hardwood of Fezziwig’s warehouse-turned-dancehall, only to be broken again by Scrooge’s interaction with his true love played charmingly by Amira Danan. We see all the light Scrooge has lost—and it only makes him and the world he’s created that much darker.

Scrooge’s present is as sad as the present world around him is resolutely jolly, made all the more so by Bri Sudia’s Ghost of Christmas Present. The Cratchit children—Isabel Ackerman, Viva Boresi, Xavier Irons, Tafradzwa Diener, and Ava Rose Doty as Tiny Tim—counter Susaan Jamshidi’s tired and realistic Mrs. Cratchit, just as Batteast does at an evening party attended by other folks who are over it.

While Marley’s ghost was truly terrifying, this Ghost of Christmas Future was less scary and sadder—a dead flower, a faded dowager. But, of course, it’s the specter of a sad future that finally snaps Scrooge out of his life of being a scrooge.

And Donahue’s transformation is very real. We’re all used to a claw-handed and clench-jawed Scrooge from film after film. And we know the change to come—to that of a heel-clicking distributor of charity and cheer. But seeing it happen right there, before our eyes, was as magical an effect as any of the magic on display. A real Christmas miracle.

Now, I have no clue if transforming a Scrooge-like audience was Thebus’ intent (or Dickens’), although I’m sure that’s what both were aiming for. But just like the Victorians who Dickens was addressing, our world today could use some hope and some cheer. And just as Donahue’s Scrooge did onstage, I found myself leaving the Goodman Theatre a little more hopeful and a little more cheerful. I have no idea if you’ll experience the same transformation as I did, but I can promise you that this production of A Christmas Carol, at the Goodman Theatre from now through December 30, will at the very least entertain you and warm your heart this holiday season.

"Stokely: The Unfinished Revolution" a world premiere written by Nambi E. Kelley and directed by Tasia A. Jones, ambitiously attempts to capture the essence of civil rights icon Stokely Carmichael in a mere 90-minute play. The title, hinting at a deep dive into Carmichael's revolutionary ideologies, might mislead audiences expecting a detailed exploration of his political maneuvers. Instead, the play serves more as a biographical sketch, intricately weaving his personal and public life, spotlighting his relationships and the internal and external battles he faced.

The enormity of condensing Carmichael's life into such a brief performance is a challenge that Nambi E. Kelley undertakes with both reverence and creativity. Kelley is no stranger to tackling monumental projects; her play "Native Son," based on Richard Wright's 400+ page book, is currently receiving a formidable production at Lifeline Theatre. In "Stokely: The Unfinished Revolution," the narrative framework is structured around Carmichael's awareness of his impending death, prompting him to reflect on his life and legacy. This introspective journey provides a poignant lens through which the audience views Carmichael not just as a historical figure but as a man grappling with his mortality and the weight of his contributions to the civil rights movement.

While Tasia A. Jones has made quite a name for herself in Chicago theaters, this production marks her directorial debut at Court Theatre. Jones's direction shines with emotional depth, sharp focus, and a remarkable ability to elicit compelling performances from her actors. She adeptly handles a challenging script, showcasing her exceptional directorial skills. The ensemble's stellar performance is a testament to her distinct and impactful style.

Anthony Irons delivers a compelling performance as Stokely Carmichael. His portrayal captures the charismatic and fiery spirit of Carmichael, while also delving into his vulnerabilities and moments of introspection. Irons manages to convey the depth of Carmichael's character, balancing his revolutionary zeal with the emotional complexities of his personal relationships.

Melanie Brezill stands out with her portrayal of Tante Elaine, Stokely’s aunt, as well as Miriam Makeba and other influential women from the civil rights era. Brezill's performance is marked by a powerful presence and a keen sense of empathy, bringing to life the experiences and struggles of these women. Her versatility and emotional range make her scenes particularly memorable, adding depth and resonance to the play.

Dee Dee Batteast is versatile in her roles, including Cecilia Carmichael, Stokely’s grandmother, and other characters. She adds layers of historical and emotional context to the narrative, seamlessly transitioning between different personas. Her ability to inhabit multiple characters with distinct voices and mannerisms enriches the storytelling and provides a broader perspective on Carmichael's life.

Kelvin Roston Jr. is reliably excellent in his multiple roles, including Adolphus Carmichael, Stokely’s father, and significant figures like Martin Luther King Jr and James Baldwin. Rolston’s ability to embody such diverse and iconic characters with authenticity and gravitas anchors the play, providing continuity and a sense of historical significance.

Wandachristine, playing May Charles, Carmichael’s mother, offers a nuanced performance that highlights the familial tensions and deep love that defined their relationship. Her interactions with Irons are charged with emotion, revealing the often-complicated dynamics between a mother and her son, particularly when that son is a prominent figure in a tumultuous era.

The fluidity of the play’s structure is mirrored in its set design. Yeaji Kim’s creation of a massive chest of drawers, filled with books and papers, serves as a dynamic backdrop. This design not only symbolizes the vast repository of knowledge and history that Carmichael sought to preserve but also facilitates quick transitions between different times and places. The set is both functional and metaphorical, enhancing the thematic elements of legacy and memory.  The main set piece transforms in a surprising and unexpected manner I won't reveal here, preserving the thrill of discovery.

Daphne Agosin's lighting design and Willow James's sound design work in harmony to create a vivid sense of time and place. The lighting shifts subtly yet effectively, guiding the audience through various moments in Carmichael's life. Meanwhile, the sound design incorporates period-specific music and ambient sounds, grounding the narrative in its historical context and enhancing the emotional impact of the scenes.

Kelley’s script is a deft blend of personal reflection and historical narrative. The dialogue is sharp and evocative, capturing the essence of Carmichael's rhetoric while also revealing his personal struggles. The tension between Carmichael and his mother is a central theme, adding a deeply human dimension to the story. This relationship is portrayed with honesty and sensitivity, illustrating how personal bonds can influence and complicate one's public mission.

"Stokely: The Unfinished Revolution" succeeds in presenting a multifaceted portrait of Stokely Carmichael. The production humanizes him by portraying his strengths, flaws, public triumphs, and private tribulations. While the play might not satisfy those seeking an exhaustive examination of Carmichael's revolutionary strategies — I would have loved to have seen the transformation from Stokely Carmichael to Kwame Ture—it offers a rich, intimate glimpse into his life and legacy.

In capturing the essence of a man who was both a pivotal figure in the civil rights movement and a son, "Stokely: The Unfinished Revolution" provides a powerful theatrical experience. It serves as a reminder of Carmichael's enduring impact and the personal sacrifices that underpin the fight for social justice. The performances, direction, and design elements coalesce to create a compelling and thought-provoking tribute to a man whose revolution, indeed, remains unfinished.

Highly Recommended

When: Through June 16

Where: Court Theatre, 5535 S. Ellis Ave.

Tickets: $23.50 - $69.50

Info: CourtTheatre.org

Run time: 90 minutes, no intermission

Lookingglass Theatre, known for its excellent production values and its incomparable space at the Water Tower pumping station, brings us an intriguing new work, Act(s) of God. 

Billed as an existential dark comedy, but really much more of a farce, it is a “guess who’s coming to dinner” tale of cosmic proportions. Written by troupe member and actor Kareem Bandealy and directed by Heidi Stillman, the show spares nothing in quality of effort and has an intriguing storyline, but runs off the rails by the third act. 

It opens on a middle-class family home where Father (Rom Barkhordar) and Mother (Shannon Cochran in an outstanding performance) await the homecoming of their boy Middle (Anthony Irons) and his girl Fiancée (Emjoy Gavino). Their two other children will also be arriving soon, a daughter Eldest (Kristina Valada-Viars) and another son, Youngest (Walter Briggs).

Sorting the mail, Mother listens to a radio report on the imminent passage near earth of the asteroid, Apophis, while she and Father reveal in passing that it is April 2029 – a date that gains in significance. Other rather witty exposition tells us how much (and how little) the world has advanced from the present. “Everyone’s driving solar cars, but why do we still have junk mail?” Mother asks.

In the mail pile Mother finds an unusual letter, but she can’t tear the envelope, nor can Father, nor the other children as they each arrive. No one can, that is, until Eldest arrives, disturbing the others who are deep in a stylized, futuristic New Age prayer ritual. (In a  droll touch, Bandealy has them ask God not for forgiveness, but to “Help us forgive ourselves.”) As it turns out Eldest is not only an atheist but also a lesbian, things which estrange her from the family. And perhaps to the detriment of this script, Eldest is a writer. But she is able to open the letter, revealing that it contains a message from God: he’s coming for dinner tomorrow night.

The plot thickens promisingly, and great deal of angst and stress accompanies preparations for their guests’ arrival, with Mother begging the rest, “Please don’t embarrass me in front of God.”

But the play takes a turn for the worse, as family tensions and dynamics fill the remainder of a way too-long show (three acts, two intermissions). These scenes are full of drama, but they do not a play make.  And while Bandealy’s characters are clearly defined personalities, jousting continuously, they seem only vaguely related to each other. Was it a matter of casting or direction?

Perhaps it’s the script – which is not fully jelled. Much of the dialog is actors reciting lengthy written texts, well stated, but mostly unconvincing as spoken language. This is slightly less of an issue with Mother, Youngest, and Fiancee, but is especially a problem with Eldest, who talks over the other characters in sometimes interminable diatribes and expository essays. Such character types have been known to represent the author.

There are also unconvincing dramatic moments, as when Father falls asleep sitting up in a chair for almost an entire Act, while a wild family wrestling and shouting match surrounds him. Or the siblings and Mother sitting unnaturally rigid and immobile throughout a scene as Father comes and goes from the kitchen, talking a mile a minute. 

Bandealy does give each character a moment of glory, with a signal monologue: in the son Middle’s take-down of his sister, Anthony Irons is moving and convincing. In Father’s recitation of an invented religious parable, Rom Barkhordar is flawless. Likewise, Shannon Cochran, who in what might be a ranting soliloquy decrying the raw deal given her by motherhood, instead sings her lines to the accompaniment of a baroque sinfonietta. It’s surpassingly than charming.

Oh yes, and God comes and goes, unseen by us. But we do hear him like a “passing wind” (a nice inside joke for religious folks, he is flatulent on a cosmic scale as well, it turns out). The date of God’s arrival, April 14, 2029, is repeated so frequently in the dialog I looked it up in Wikipedia. It is the day a large asteroid will come within 19,000 miles of the Earth – which clarifies the radio report in the opening minutes of Act(s) of God. 

The set by Brian Sidney Bembridge – the living and dining room of a middle-class family home – is wonderfully appointed, and conveys that indeterminate futuristic point in time with a mix of furnishings dating from 1920 deco and ersatz 1950s French provincial, to mid-century modern and contemporary retro, along with futuristic sconces and wall paper. 

The set matters, as it must also provide a climactic end to the play. But it was not a particularly satisfying one. The coincidence of a visit from God and an asteroid flyby gives a reasonable platform for an existential dark comedy, but hours of family squabbling didn't seem very existential or funny. There’s some good in Act(s) of God, and some great bits, so it's somewhat recommended if you have the patience for it. It will be at Lookingglass Theatre through April 7, 2019.

It’s a tough time to be a straight white male. Playwright Ellen Fairey returns to Chicago with a new play called ‘Support Group for Men’ now running at Goodman Theatre. Fairey’s work was last seen in Chicago when the now defunct Profiles Theatre produced her smash hit ‘Graceland’ in the mid-00s. Directed by one of the city’s foremost directors, Kimberly Senior, this of-the-moment play is certain to hit home for locals.

‘Support Group for Men’ isn’t exactly a winning title, but it does fit the bill. In it, four men of various ages and ethnicities meet weekly to discuss personal problems they’re having. Fairey took the idea from a real-life friend of hers who told her about a support group he went to for lonely men. Without that piece of info from the playbill, this scenario would seem somewhat unplausable. That said, how sad that there are so many lonely people out there that don’t seek company?

Fairey sets her four characters in Wrigleyville. There’s tough guy Roger (Keith Kupferer), new agey Brian (Ryan Kitley), sensitive Delano (Anthony Irons) and token millennial Kevin (Tommy Rivera-Vega), but it’s the entrance of Alex (Jeff Kurysz) in drag that changes the course of the evening. While most of the dialogue is topical and relevant, the jammed-in Chicago references ring very false. Suburbanites may appreciate the cultural shout-outs but really, how many locals actually go to Weiner Circle?

This is not to say the play is bad. Fairey’s characters discuss the things in everyday pop culture that are so fluid for the young, but so confusing for the middle-aged. Her points about middle-aged men feeling winnowed out are devastating. It almost answers the question of “why do people commit mass shootings?”

Roger is established as the main character and his monologue about the realization of middle age and the feeling of being invisible is heartbreaking. Keith Kupferer is perfectly cast for this role. When the Chicago stage needs an everyman, Kupferer is the guy for the job. There’s a toughness to his look, but a wealth of sensitivity just below the surface.

This is a comedy and though it does try to reach for depth, it often comes up empty. The problem here is that Fairey isn’t saying anything that hasn’t already been said better by other writers. Though, it is important for mainstream, suburban audiences to see themselves in a play. If they can’t relate, then how can a play make them see the world differently? Fairey’s play is a light-hearted referendum on male privilege and it’s easier to swallow a little criticism with some comedy. Is this a play everyone in America needs to see? No, but it’s a play that has themes everyone in American should be discussing.

Through July 29 at Goodman Theatre. 170 N Dearborn. 312-443-3811