THE VOICE OF CHICAGO'S GAY, LESBIAN, BI, TRANS AND QUEER COMMUNITY SINCE 1985

Some of the plot elements in Black Ensemble's latest musical revue will be familiar: the let's-put-on-a-show framing device—in this case, a concert celebrating the 65th anniversary of a Chicago nightclub featuring the Stephens clan, owners since its opening in 1944. Conflicting opinions over the showcase genre's defining limits, with third-generation Mike and Sean Stephens differing on inclusion of recording artists such as Willie Nelson and K'Jon. And for suspense, the threat to the site of the venerable family trade generated by Eminent Domain proceedings—a prospect invoking mixed responses among the potential evictees.

All right, so it isn't Tom Stoppard. But within co-scripters Dawn Bless and Rueben Echoles' scenario can be found discussions of issues both timely and insightful. How often do we see a young son encourage his widowed father to begin dating again? Or a couple whose marital accord is unaffected by the wife's status as the club's high-powered suit-and-briefcase business manager? And what becomes of entertainers' children who opt for non-show biz careers—or whose enthusiasm exceeds their talent?

Anyhow, plot is not what Black Ensemble devotees come seeking. What BET's final "Season of Men" production does is to assemble six of their most charismatic male vocalists onstage to open up their mighty pipes on such classics as Nat "King" Cole's "Unforgettable" and "Route 66," Billy Eckstein's "Don't Get Around Much Anymore" and "Rhythm in the Riff," and Al Hibbler's "After the Lights Go Down Low." Trinity P. Murdock wraps his smooth vocals around an ebullient Louis Armstrong impression, while Michael T. Bartlett, Jr., does likewise with Johnny Mathis on the shimmery "Twelfth of Never." And since, as Rashawn Thompson's mischievous Sean points out, "a love song don't have to be a ballad," Roy Hamilton is represented by an animated "Don't Let Go," in addition to a full-throated choral rendition of the Rodgers & Hammerstein anthem "You'll Never Walk Alone."

They share the stage with five utility speakers/singers/dancers and Jimmy Tillman's six-piece band, the latter incorporated this time into the dramatic action—well, this is a nightclub we're in, right? And as is customary in this venue, spectators are invited to clap hands, tap toes, chair-dance and, at one point, swing along with the high-stepping cast out on the floor. When was the last time you did that at a Stoppard play?