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

\ If Mark Harelik had simply recounted the story of how his Russian grandfather came to be a prominent businessman in Hamilton, Texas, at the dawn of the 20th century, he'd have had a serviceable, if hardly original, show—warm, homely, not much on brains maybe, and certainly inviting comparison to Stage Left's Prairie Lights, but still a sweetly unpretentious piece of oral history. Harelik loads down his slender biodrama with bigger issues, however, ultimately diminishing the very topic it proposes to champion.

Commercial considerations mandating the hire of only four actors, the Jewish Haskell Harelik and his homesick wife Leah, along with Hamilton's unchurched banker Milton Perry and HIS devoutly Baptist wife Ima, must each represent their respective tribes in all their complex entirety, diluting their individual personalities to the most superficial of archetypes. And songwriters Steven M. Alper and Sarah Knapp's attempts at tailoring their score to reflect the diverse cultures—chromatic-scale soliloquies for the foreigners, chipper quasi-Music Man ditties for the incumbents—only reveal a likewise perfunctory understanding of their dramatic milieu.

Harelik seems to be reaching for an ecumenical theme, but in trying to say too much in too short a time, he inadvertently trivializes EVERYBODY's theological convictions. The citizens of Hamilton—itself a barely-established municipality—function only as a symbol of all that is strange and threatening to his unswervingly pious ancestors. For example: Milton's refusal to be baptized, even on his deathbed, distresses Ima—if her husband's soul cannot enter heaven, they will be separated for all eternity. But for all Haskell and Leah's testimonials to the importance of religion in their own lives and to the deep gratitude they owe their close friends, neither they nor the author waste any compassion on the spiritual crises of gentiles.

Local favorites Hollis Resnik, Ana Sferruzza, Craig Spidle ( hired for his acting, not his singing ) and newcomer Aaron Serotsky all strive valiantly to lend depth to the shallow characters provided them, with minimal assistance from director Randal Myler. But their industry is futile in a play so shamelessly resolute in its—to use a goyish expression—preaching to the choir.

The Complete Works Of William Shakespeare ( Abridged )

Playwright: Jess Winfield, Daniel Singer & Adam Long

At: A Crew Of Patches at the Mercury Theater, 3745 N. Southport Ave.

Phone: ( 773 ) 325-1700; $28.50

Runs through: Jan. 29

BY MARY SHEN BARNIDGE

If all the parodies, spoofs, take-offs, puns, malapropisms, giggles and general ridicule perpetrated on The Bard of Avon by bored inductees of actors' workshops, mad-dog rehearsals and classics seminars were collected in one exhaustive anthology, it would probably sound like this. The comedies condensed into one convoluted scenario, the history plays presented as a football game, a cooking-show Titus Andronicus ( pronounced 'tight-ass androgynous' ) , Macbeth with Scottish burrs and glottal stops, Tybalt as a video-game samurai, Claudius as Darth Vader, The Player King as Kermit the Frog, David Letterman's 'nuts' gag, Mel Brooks' 'whip out' gag, a scholarly study entitled 'I Love My Willy', and an audience participation exercise designed to bring Ophelia to vocal abreaxis—collaborative playwrights Adam Long, Daniel Singer and Jess Winfield leave nothing out.

The irony of this catalogue is that the speed required to sell the stupid jokes—you don't want to think TOO long about 'But soft! What wind through yonder window breaks?'—likewise blurs the smart moments ( the characterizations adopted by actors representing the stressed and unstressed beats in iambic pentameter, for example ) . A vintage showbill displayed in the bowels of the Mercury theatre clocks a long-ago production of our play at under 90 minutes, but this rendering by A Crew Of Patches needs a full 2-1/2 hours to reach the finish line. One suspects that the authors might have added material since their play's 1987 premiere, but the time has certainly come to subtract shtick no longer original—the fast-rewind Hamlet, maybe, or the body-orchestra Rap Othello.

The three actors who play all the roles ( assisted by a put-upon Utility Girl assistant and a tech-booth manager literally willing to die for his art ) project a faux-ingenuousness that keeps their material from becoming offensive or annoying ( though Benjamin Montague—yes, that's his real name—should find more voices for his female personae than a single shrill falsetto ) . And the sumptuous quarters make for a more visual exhibition than its 2003 incarnation at City Lit. But playgoers looking for an alternative to having Shakespeare IMPOSED upon them deserve an experience less encumbered by textual clutter.

Second City

Red Scare

Playwright ( s ) : Ensemble

At: Second City, 1616 N. Wells

Phone: ( 312 ) 337-3992; $17-$19

Runs through: open run

BY RICK REED

In their ninety-first revue, Second City pushes the envelope on political correctness. Nothing new there…if they didn't push that envelope and act as equal opportunity offenders, they'd have one disappointed house. Still, this revue ( celebrating their 45th anniversary ) often has the power to make you gasp, in both delight and shock. The director ( Mick Napier ) and the ensemble ( consisting of Brian Boland, Brian Gallivan, Antoine McKay, Maribeth Monroe, Jean Villepique, and Claudia Michelle Wallace ) have created some of the edgiest comedy ever seen at this venue…and it's refreshing. This is comedy with bite, totally irreverent.

If ever a time cried out for zaniness and lack of political correctness, it's the US in 2004. Red Scare ( a reference to the 'red states' a portion of the country that this revue does not, decidedly, include itself ) is chock full of jabs at the current regime ( a black out where a little boy is being read a bedtime story ends with a whispered, 'Goodnight, Mr. President'; the failure of the 'don't ask, don't tell' policy for gays in the military will be reintroduced as 'don't leave, don't leave'; the show coins a new word—Republicunt; and Condoleeza Rice is revealed to be a robot ) . It's not so surprising that Second City would find plenty to malign in Bushland…an easy target. What is surprising is the amount of racial humor that surfaces. One could easily make arguments for calling this humor shockingly irreverent or shockingly racist ( and the fact that two of the ensemble members are black wouldn't soften the latter argument ) . But I'm grateful that Second City still dares to walk a tightrope of what some might refer to as racism. I think discerning audiences will realize that it's not African Americans who are being made fun of; but racists themselves. Pieces about African American Day in Boise, Idaho ( only two black people show up; 'Where's Jerome?' one asks. 'He move,' the other replies ) ; racism in the corporate culture ( which skewers misguided attempts by whites to be 'hip' ) ; and the discomfort of an interracial couple at Starbucks all serve to point out the absurdity of discrimination.

The first act of Red Scare really moves, thanks to the polished ensemble, the sharp writing, and the quicksilver abilities of the cast to change character. Pieces about a child not having ADD ( or any other of today's anagrammatic disorders ) , but just being D.U.M.B.; an older African American woman with markedly different views regarding the beauty of childbirth; and the aforementioned office racism skit are all examples of daring comedy at its finest.

The second act, although shorter, doesn't move as well as the first. It has its high points ( the 'You're an Asshole' song, replete with examples; a clash between right and left wing couples ) , but is dragged down by a depressing piece about cancer and a piece about bodybuilders and gays coexisting in a gym that goes on long after it's made its slim point. The gay humor in the show, overall, is weak ( earlier we're treated to the addition of a gay best friend in Hamlet and Romeo and Juliet, a sassy Harvey Fierstein type ) , making one wonder if there are any true homos in the cast.

All in all, though, this latest revue is smart and fun. Closing with a plea for unity in these divided times, however far we might have to reach to find common ground ( everyone would agree that the sight of Dick Cheney running in a thong would be repulsive ) , sums the show up with a refreshing burst of reality and compassion.

Critics' Picks

A Christmas Carol, Goodman Theatre, through Dec. 26. Forget your Compassionate Conservatism--Scrooge discovers what money is REALLY good for in Kate Buckley's ( via Charles Dickens ) low-glucose tale of rehabilitation and triumph. MSB

The Doctor In Spite Of Himself & The Pretentious Young Ladies, City Lit Theatre, through Jan. 2. No, it's not Dr. House and the Hilton sisters, but a Road Runner-paced double-bill featuring Moliere's classic farce satires. MSB

It's a Wonderful Life: A Live Radio Play, American Theater Company, 1909 W. Byron, through Dec. 26. See how Frank Capra's holiday chestnut might have looked if it had been done as a live radio broadcast, complete with sound effects ( Joe Landry adapts ) . RR

Monty Python's Spamalot, Shubert Theatre, though January 16. Eric Idle plunders his own movie, Monty Python and the Holy Grail, to create this musical Arthurian send-up. The legendary Mike Nichols directs stars Hank Azaria, Tim Curry and David Hyde Pierce. JA

By Jonathan Abarbanel, Mary Shen Barnidge and Rick Reed