Displaying items by tag: hilarious

Spamalot rides into the Windy City courtesy of Broadway In Chicago, inviting theatergoers to join King Arthur’s quest now through May 31 at the CIBC Theatre. Fans of Monty Python and the Holy Grail - the 1975 cult classic - will find plenty to adore in this musical, which, as its subtitle proudly declares, is “lovingly ripped off” from the film.

Written by Python member Eric Idle, with music co-written by John Du Prez, Spamalot follows King Arthur as he assembles his “very round table” and sets off in search of the Holy Grail. Along the way, we meet a parade of quirky knights: the brash, homicidal Sir Lancelot; the argumentative, hair-flipping Sir Galahad; the cowardly, weak-bowelled Sir Robin; and even Sir Not Appearing in This Show. Arthur’s greatest ally is the Lady of the Lake, a glittering, full-throttle diva armed with riffs and costume changes for days. After a bit of plot and a bounty of silly songs, the hapless heroes finally secure their grail and send audiences out humming the show’s signature tune, “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life.”

Interestingly, Spamalot had its world premiere in Chicago back in 2004 before heading to Broadway the following year, where it earned fourteen Tony nominations and won three, including Best Musical. This touring revival, directed and choreographed by Josh Rhodes, stays true to the original while injecting the production with fresh energy and a steady stream of contemporary pop-culture nods.

Spamalot’s target audience is, unsurprisingly, die-hard Python fans. Several scenes are lifted almost verbatim from the film, so expect the Black Knight losing limb after limb, the Knights Who Say “Ni,” the cow catapult, a hilarious - and genuinely ferocious - killer rabbit puppet, and more. For those less steeped in the British comedy canon, a few gags linger a beat too long, stretching to honor the movie’s rhythms even when the stage version might benefit from a quicker pivot.

Still, there is no end of splashy musical numbers, big set pieces, and dynamic, eye-catching projections. The cast pulls out all the stops as they don flashy costumes, dance their hearts out, and throw friendly meta-jabs at other Broadway musicals like Wicked and Fiddler on the Roof.

(L-R) Leo Roberts and Amanda Robles in the North American Tour of SPAMALOT.

Leading the charge as King Arthur is Major Attaway, who wears the crown well. Attaway is best known for his time on Broadway playing the Genie in Aladdin and his off-Broadway stint voicing Audrey II in Little Shop of Horrors - two roles that showcase his vocal dexterity, a talent he uses to full effect in this production. Along with golden pipes, Attaway voices Arthur with a stoic authority or a comedic twist, whichever the moment calls for. He is the perfect straight man for the zaniness that surrounds him - and there’s a lot.

Another standout is Amanda Robles, making her national tour debut as the Lady of the Lake. Robles tears into the role with gleeful abandon, spoofing Liza Minnelli and other prima donnas with razor-sharp precision. Numbers like “Diva’s Lament” and “The Song That Goes Like This” - both affectionate send-ups of classic Broadway tropes, from the obligatory second-act solo to the formulaic love ballad - are lifted even higher by her vocal prowess, impeccable comedic timing, and undeniable glamour.

Spamalot also boasts a vibrant ensemble, with actors juggling wildly different roles and giving each character distinct voices and mannerisms. Sean Bell steals multiple scenes - both as Sir Robin, a knight who has no idea what knighthood entails, and as an oddball priest with sharp, staccato delivery. From line readings to goofy facial expressions, it’s clear every performer is having an absolute blast, and that infectious joy radiates through the entire production.

As riotously funny as Spamalot is, parents should know that it isn’t especially kid-friendly. Younger audiences may laugh at the fart jokes and bits of bathroom humor, but the show also leans into cruder gags, sexual innuendo, and one very random - and entirely unnecessary - bare backside. It’s probably best suited to teens and adults rather than little ones, landing somewhere in that PG-13 neighborhood.

Spamalot, in a word, is silly - and proudly so. If you’re up for a night of unabashed absurdity, it’s an irresistibly fun choice. It has no interest in plumbing the depths of plot; its mission is pure fan delight. And judging by the uproarious laughter from the audience around me, the cult film’s devotees were more than satisfied. Others who aren’t as familiar with Monty Python or don’t favor dry or crude British humor might choose to seek to find their holy grail elsewhere.

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.

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