Displaying items by tag: Kendra Thulin

It’s Athol’s turn to speak. The lights have come up on his side of the stage and Morna fades into the dark background. Athol is sharing details about his nephew, Josh’s, visit. In this particular memory, Athol and Josh are having lunch at a pub. The conversation remains surface-level at the beginning. Athol and Josh’s mother, Morna, have not been on speaking terms for some time, and Josh seems to understand that it’s complicated. Then Josh shares that his mother was sick, and Athol is taken aback.

“You could have told me.”

“…You could have asked.”

The change in Athol’s demeanor is subtle, and Peter Moore plays that nuance beautifully. There is a small, quick pause before Athol changes the subject and continues on with the conversation. However, it’s clear that Athol is uncomfortable with Josh’s critique – especially because he knows Josh is right. Relationships are a two-way street, and this standoff between Morna and Athol has to end eventually. The question is, who is going to make the first move?

Written by David Harrower, A Slow Air is a two-hander that follows Athol (Peter Moore) and Morna (Kendra Thulin). The siblings have not spoken in years, and despite how close they live to each other, neither has taken a step forward to try and mend the relationship. Harrower’s play features a series of monologues from each of the characters. Over the course of the play, we hear each of their personal accounts of why the relationship is so estranged, and what each may need in order to overcome all the pain of the past.

Cleverly directed by Robin Witt, A Slow Air is deeply moving. Scenic Designer Sotirios Livaditis embraces the intimacy at the Edge Theater Off-Broadway – creating a playing space for the actors that leaves very little distance between the audience and themselves. The stage itself features a hallway with two doors – two entrances that are only used at the beginning and end of the play when the actors enter and exit. You may even find as an audience member that you almost feel like a scene partner in the story – a much-needed confidant as the characters muddle through their troubles. With so little to distract from the actors on stage, Witt lifts up the words themselves, inviting the audience into this estranged relationship. You may find yourself leaning in at times, feeling almost tempted to shake one of the characters into a different decision that could bring some healing.

It is no easy task to carry such an emotional play – especially with the added challenge of no breaks and only speaking in monologues to the audience. However, Thulin and Moore rise to the challenge with ease. The performances are genuine, and Harrower’s exploration of the relationship feels authentic and thoughtful. Family can be tough, and sometimes, the path to healing can take time – a journey that many in the audience are likely to understand.

Strong performances and clever directing make A Slow Air a night of emotional curiosity. Steep Theatre is often known for their grounded, thought-provoking productions. You just might find is a perfect addition to that list.

RECOMMENDED

A Slow Air runs through March 1, 2025 at the Edge Theater Off-Broadway – 1133 W Catalpa Avenue. See the Steep Theatre website for further information regarding tickets.

Penelope Skinner’s latest play, Linda, now receiving its United States Premiere at Steep Theatre, begins with the title character’s plea that attention must be paid…to women of a certain age. The seemingly inconsequential references to King Lear, Death of a Salesman and other tragic male protagonists become progressively more resonant as Linda (rivetingly portrayed by Kendra Thulin), accustomed to being the protagonist of her of life, fights for relevance and “visibility” as she finds herself being pushed to the margins both professionally and personally. Meanwhile, several characters make the case for irrelevance and invisibility. The questions raised by Skinner’s play are both timeless and timely, and she covers a lot of ground in its two and a half hours. Under Robin Witt’s direction, Linda is a scathing examination of the values of contemporary society and the impact that success has on those who strive for it. Linda is both entertaining and infuriating, Shakespearian in scope, and painfully human to its core. In a Chicago theater season that features several plays with middle aged characters trying to remain consequential in a youth-focused society, Linda confronts the issue through an unsparing lens that may make you want to look away, but if you don’t, your attention will be rewarded.

Linda is a senior brand manager at a cosmetics company called Swan Beauty Corporation, not to be confused with another company with an avian appellation, which is rolling out a new anti-aging cream. The author of the highly successful earlier “Real Beauty” campaign, which combined beauty products and self-esteem program, Linda’s marketing idea is “Visibility,” which would focus on women over 50. 25-year-old Amy has a counter-proposal based on her own experience, targeting women in their 20’s and 30’s who may be seeing, and fearing, the first hints of lines and crows’ feet: “Hi, Beautiful.” Amy has been inspired by Linda, but also sees her as a hurdle on her way to achieving her well-mapped life goals: marry by age 26, career well underway by age 29, two children shortly thereafter (because any later and neither her body nor her career will ping back). Amy is pragmatic, ruthless, terrified and terrifying. Making decisions about both of these women’s futures is Dave, who condescends, cuts off and mansplains while extolling his understanding of women. Drifting in and out of the office is Luke, a cheeky, gossipy temp, biding his time before running off to join an intentional community of people who share his belief that everything is an illusion. Linda’s hard-earned reality also includes two daughters. Alice, 25, is struggling to get over a viral photo incident that left her too visible and derailed her plans for a career in engineering. Bridget, 15, has a big audition for a drama academy coming up, and is trying to figure out how to stand out from the crowd, to say nothing of getting noticed by her career-obsessed mother and internet-surfing father. Husband Neil has just started a band, with a younger, attractive frontwoman, Stevie.

Director Robin Witt again demonstrates her ability to let no one off the hook, in a production that ranges from hilarious to heartrending to queasy. As we watch the events of Linda spiral out of control, the layers of complicity become almost nauseatingly clear. On a sleek set by Joe Schermoly (nothing comfortable or homey in this home that Linda has worked so many decades to create), under the harsh, sharply-focused lights by Brandon Wardell, and immersed in the portentous sound design by designer/composer Thomas Dixon, there is no softening of the realities the characters face. Costume designer Izumi Inaba perfectly captures the generational and motivational differences of the players. Props designers Emma Cullimore and Derik Marcussen add the minimal trappings of lives lived in spaces focused on mind and body—no one is responsible for the creation of anything tangible in this world, though they are capable of building and destroying lives.

As Linda, the award-winning executive who is about to be confronted with her legacy in a way she never anticipated, Kendra Thulin delivers a remarkable performance, teetering on the knife edge of a breakdown as she struggles to hang on to everything she has worked for since her early 20’s. Her Linda is certainly not always likeable—she is deliberately unapologetic and sometimes cruel as she tries to be the parent she believes her daughters need, and she is as relentless as those who are trying to unsettle her. As her nemesis and successor Amy, Rochelle Therrien is deliciously awful, but also reveals the fear that propels Amy as she claws her way to the top, belittling others to make herself look better. Destini Huston captures the pain that Linda’s daughter carries from being trapped in a past that she is not allowed to forget, and from being told to “get over it” when no one else is held accountable. Watching Huston’s Alice find another way to deal with her viral fame is both excruciating and hopeful. Caroline Phillips deserves credit simply for her performance as spectator, as 15-year-old Bridget watches the adults around her struggle to maintain their grip on their lives, but she goes well beyond this as she struggles to find her role—literally and figuratively--and get noticed by her parents and the auditors at the drama school where she is auditioning. Peter Moore’s schoolteacher Neil conveys the nice guy qualities that all the other people around him admire while showing his discomfiture with the rock and roll life he is trying on. Lucy Carpetyan’s Stevie, the lead singer/groupie in Neil’s rock band, is coming to terms with not being either Linda or Neil, as she tries to become relevant in her own life. Omer Abbas Salem is maddening and thoroughly charming as Luke, who proves that, with the right attitude, consequences can be for others. As he glibly touches the lives of those he meets, exacerbating their existential struggles, his idea that “everything is just as it should be” if one just lets go of one’s data becomes more than a little compelling. Finally, belying Linda’s belief in her “changing the world one girl at a time” campaign, is evidence that change is a long time coming, in the smug, self-satisfied and casually menacing portrayal by Jim Poole of company president Dave, who still holds all the cards, even if a few women have breached the board room.

Linda is a startling and pointed indictment of first world problems, from the need to remain visible and relevant even if one is not Helen Mirren, to the superficial measures of success that we choose, to the right to privacy that is too easily invaded. Playwright Penelope Skinner offers no easy answers for the mess people have gotten themselves into as she throws the spotlight onto Linda, who at first appears to be the apex of a new social order but ends up being vulnerable to the forces she helped unleash. The play touches on the many ways people find to diminish each other—age, gender, class, career, beauty—and ultimately suggests we may be focusing on the wrong things. Robin Witt and a uniformly strong ensemble, led by a poised yet emotionally raw Kendra Thulin, tackle the layered text with intelligence and wry humor, capturing the unmet potential and alienation of our ultra-exposed, ultra-networked modern lives.

Linda runs through August 18 at Steep Theatre, 1115 West Berwyn, Thursdays – Saturdays at 8:00 pm and Sundays at 3:00 pm. For more information and tickets visit www.steeptheatre.com or call 773-649-3186.

*Extended through September 1st