There is a kind of audience member whose evening at the theater includes dressing in the style of the play they are attending—not necessarily the full Rocky Horror Show, but perhaps a touch of lace for a Shakespeare, or a sun-ray necklace for an Aida. If you happen to be one of these, then put away your crimson velvets and black satins—indeed, anything in your wardrobe less than 15 years old—and get out your denim overalls for a fall season replete with working-class heroes.
You want to flaunt your proletariat chic right away? Cheer on the striking cabbies and commies ( this is 1935 ) in Clifford Odets' American classic Waiting for Lefty ( American Blues Theater at the Biograph, to Oct. 2; 773-871-3000 ) , or applaud the British coal miners liberated—for awhile, anyway—by education and art in The Pitman Painters, by the author of Billy Elliot ( Timeline Theatre, to Dec. 4. 773-281-8463 ) . If you want music to enhance your fantasy, follow the solitary pilgrimage of a young woman in the deep south during the restless 1960s with Jenine Tesori's Violet ( Bailiwick Chicago at the Mercury, to Oct. 16. 773-325-1700 ) .
For every citizen who declares war on poverty, there are also those who have no choice but to surrender, the latter represented in The Glass Menagerie, Tennessee Williams' memoir of the family he left behind ( Oak Park Festival Theatre at the Madison Street Playhouse in Oak Park, to Nov. 13. 708-445-4440 ) and in Carson McCullers' delta-noir The Heart Is A Lonely Hunter ( Steppenwolf Theatre, opens Oct. 11. 312-335-1650 ) . The hopelessness engendered by the prospect no future is not just an American phenomenon, as exemplified by Harold Pinter's urban strugglers in The Caretaker ( Writers' Theatre in Glencoe, opens Nov. 8. 847-242-6000 ) , impoverished Argentinians in Evita ( Night Blue Performing Arts Company at Stage 773, opens Oct. 21; 773-327-5252 ) , resisters of Nazis in the world premiere Bonhoeffer's Cost ( Provision Theatre Company, to Oct. 13. 866-811-4111 ) , and Stalin-era dissenters in the East of Berlin/The Russian Plays ( Signal Ensemble, opens Oct. 15; 773-347-1350 ) .
The men and women who toil for their living deserve more than heaps of weeps, however. The Great Fire ( Lookingglass Theatre at the Water Works, opens Oct. 3. 312-337-0665 ) recounts the heroism of those who survived the disaster that made our city what it is today, performed in the very building that supplied the water effecting its rescue, while Moby Dick ( Building Stage, to Oct. 30; 312-491-1369 ) brings to the stage the timeless conflict of whalers battling the giant mammals on the high seas.
Sometimes, a preference for coarse fabrics and rolled seams are merely reflective of regional lifestyles: Idaho, for example—the setting for Samuel D. Hunter's family drama, A Bright New Boise ( Live Wire Chicago at the Greenhouse, opens Nov. 12. 773-404-7336 ) or Kansas, where William Inge's snowbound transients find romance in Bus Stop ( Raven Theatre, opens Oct. 16; 773-338-2177 ) . Playgoers looking for down-home warbles will enjoy the bluegrass ditties served up by the habitués of the Double Cupp Diner in Pump Boys and Dinettes ( Theo Ubique at the No Exit, opens Nov. 26. 800-595-4849 ) , along with the country-western harmonies of The Doyle and Debbie Show ( Royal George, opens Oct. 11; 312-988-9000 ) .
Fans of the literary genre dubbed "screwball tragedy," for lack of a better name, whose characters' shabby garb is mostly dictated by the need to camouflage blood, can express sartorial solidarity with the Lower East Side scruffs in actor-turned-playwright Laurence Fishburne's Riff Raff ( Mary-Arrchie Theatre Company at Angel Island, opens Sept. 22; 773-871-0442 ) , or the body-parts peddlers in gallows-humor maestro Martin McDonagh's A Behanding in Spokane ( Profiles Theatre, opens Oct. 21; 773-549-1815 ) .
If all this is still not earthy enough for you, there's always Musical of the Living Dead ( Cowardly Scarecrow Theatre Company at the Charnel House, opens Oct. 13; 773-871-9046 ) . Have you ever seen a zombie wearing fancy clothes?
