Black Nativity
Playwright: Langston Hughes
At: Congo Square at Goodman Theatre
Phone: ( 312 ) 443-3800; $19-$35
Runs through: Jan. 2
By Jonathan Abarbanel
Arguably, Black Nativity provides more musical bang for a buck than any other show in town. The singing, dancing and parade of beautiful, multi-colored costumes ( by Reggie Ray ) are non-stop, as is the energy of the 16-member ensemble. Congo Square ( with funding help from Target ) has made a considerable investment of material and human resources in this show, as if they intend to make it an annual Holiday Season tradition, and why not?
As the title implies, Black Nativity tells the story of the birth of Jesus in African-American language and music, the music being gospel or gospel-influenced. The range of songs may surprise you, however, with gospelized versions of standards such as Joy to the World and We Three Kings and even Handel's For Unto Us, together with more expected tunes such as Go Tell It on the Mountain and the folkloric The Virgin Mary Had One Son.
Act I tells the nativity tale, leaving some audience members at intermission wondering what Act II would be about. The answer is a modern church service, almost literally, with a smattering of shout-and-response preaching and a history of gospel's influence on popular music. Witty and funny impersonations of Mahalia Jackson, the Clara Ward Singers, the Five Blind Boys and James Cleveland remind us that the roots of Rhythm & Blues are in gospel and the church.
Indeed, Black Nativity never, ever lets one forget that Christmas is a religious holiday. It preaches the Good News. Act II tells us that the manger became the church, the Wise Men became the elders, and so on. Later, a preacher exhorts 'Those who believe ( in Jesus Christ ) shall be saved, those who don't shall perish.'
Frankly, the religiosity of Act II will not be appetizing for non-Christians or those who see Christmas as more secular than religious.
Also, those seeking the words and images of great, gay Black poet and journalist Langston Hughes ( 1902-1967 ) will be hard pressed to find them. Even in its original form, Black Nativity was little more than a compilation of songs held together by Hughes' narration. In the 40-plus years since it was originally produced, and as adapted by director/choreographer Mike Malone ( who's staged it numerous times ) , there is little recognizable essence of Hughes.
But Malone—very capably aided by musical director Xavier Treadwell and assistant choreographer Dereque Whiturs—has packed just about everything else into the show to the point of repetition. He could cut 15 minutes from each act without breaking a sweat and without losing one iota of the show's spirit or message. At its present 2 hours 40 minutes ( with intermission ) , Black Nativity is too much of a good thing.
Beauty and
the Beast
Beauty and the Beast
Music: Alan Menken
Lyrics: Howard Ashman and Tim Rice
Book: Linda Woolverton
At: Marriott Lincolnshire,
10 Marriott Dr., Marriott
Phone: ( 847 ) 634-0200 -$42
Runs through: Feb. 12
By Catey Sullivan
First, a caveat: I have little patience with fairy tales ( of the literary variety ) . I find their happy endings insultingly simplistic; their dewy-eyed ingénues nauseatingly lily livered; their wicked witches unfairly persecuted.
So imagine my surprise to find myself grinning like the village idiot throughout the Marriott Lincolnshire's production of Beauty and the Beast.
Directed and choreographed by Marc Robin, it is rich with exquisite visuals, spiced with dance numbers worthy of a Busby Berkley musical; and—at the risk of sounding like a squishy-hearted sap—heart-warming in its romanticism. It is also hilarious.
The story unfolds in a provincial village and the Beast's castle, both ingeniously depicted in Thomas M. Ryan's set, an in-the-round wonderland of gingerbread cottages, gothic arches, gargoyles and flickering candles.
Our heros here are Belle ( Joanna McKenzie Miller ) , who storms the Beast's castle to save her father ( James Harms ) after he is taken captive. Once in the enchanted lair, she meets a host of characters who—like the Beast—are under a spell that is slowly rendering them inhuman.
The footman is becoming a clock; the butler a candlestick; the maid a feather duster, and so on. Arguably the most tragic ( and funniest ) of all is Madame de La Grande Bouche ( Marilyn Bogtetich ) , a former opera diva morphing into a vanity. Her turn as a Brunhilde-like soprano delivering an aria with all the grace of a foghorn is almost worth the price of admission by itself.
Because the spell can be broken when the Beast falls in love, match-making endeavors begin in earnest when Belle shows up at the castle. Along the way we get an eye-popping dance extravaganza complete with a chorusline of silverware, a tap-dancing sugar bowl, a veritable flying circus of dinner napkins.
And of course, there's the Beast ( Michael Gerhart ) , wonderfully affecting as a stumbling, hirsute suitor.
Vying with the Beast for Belle's heart is cro-magnon he-man Gaston ( Michael Minarik ) , a chap with more chest hair than brains. Combining the worst qualities of a frat boy and supermodel, Minarik creates a character of uproarious obnoxiousness. Even so, he's almost upstaged by his sidekick LeFou ( Matt Raftery ) , a phenomenonally acrobatic fellow who takes enough bone-crunching pratfalls during the show that one wonders about the size of his insurance premiums.
Also worth noting is the wonderful cameo by Jeff Kuhl as the cadaverous proprietor of the local mad house. He gets what is arguably the best line in the show with, 'I don't usually leave the asylum in the middle of the night, but they said you'd make it worth my while.'
In all, Robin has crafted a schmaltz-free fairy tale. It's enough to make you believe in the power of romance.
Cherry Orchard
Playwright: Anton Chekhov
( translation: Curt Columbus
At: Steppenwolf Upstairs Theatre,
1650 N. Halsted
Phone: ( 312 ) 335-1650; $20-$60
Runs through: March 5
BY RICK REED
Steppenwolf's Cherry Orchard possesses that rarest of magic that can occur on a stage: perfection. In a clean, elegant translation, Curt Columbus manages to bring Chekhov's characters to brilliant life, highlighting their all-too-human foibles, joys, and hopes with simple, accessible language that does the period ( late 19th century ) justice without ever being stilted. I think Chekhov himself would have been pleased with the grace of Columbus' translation, because one of the playwright's hallmarks was simplicity. Tina Laundau, a director often justifiably described as 'visionary,' continues to earn the description with this gorgeous production, which handles Chekhov's curious ( for his time ) blend of comedy and tragedy with the assured touch of an artist. Landau obviously has nothing but respect for the source text, but yet doesn't treat it with kid gloves, putting her own stamp on the work that is inspired and appropriate. There's an ensemble here to sing about. This no-weak-link cast boasts flawless performances and could serve as a demonstration of what unaffected, real acting is all about. Particularly worthy of mention are Amy Morton, who anchors the play with her interpretation of Madame Ranevskaya, the often flighty, desperate matriarch whom Morton endows with a lovely and touching dignity, and Yasen Peyankov, whose interpretation of Lopakin is energetically rendered, making his pivotal role in the downfall of the Ranevskaya's family fortunes sympathetic. Guy Adkins and Rondi Reed ( peerless comic relief ) , Elizabeth Rich ( staid and dark ) , and Ben Viccellio, suitably smarmy round out the first-rate ensemble. Finally, a dream creative team has crafted a world that manages to be both real and evocative at the same time. Riccardo Hernandez's lace-draped set puts us inside Chekhov's world, and Scott Zielinski's lighting delicately underscores the cherry orchard just outside.
Of course, all the top-form acting, innovative direction, and imaginative set design would go to waste if it wasn't supporting first-rate source material.
Regarding his classic, Chekhov wrote, 'What's turned out isn't a drama, but a comedy, in places even a farce … .' Chekhov's juxtaposition of tone, veering from farce to tragedy to social commentary makes for spellbinding entertainment ( as long as it's handled with the maturity and panache as it is here ) , keeping even modern audiences slightly off balance, but always fascinated by this story of an elite Russian's family's loss of their estate to a nouveau riche friend, one whose ancestors had been enslaved by the Ranevskayas. It's a shattering look at the arrival of the modern age in Russia.
Steppenwolf has an international reputation, so when I say that their Cherry Orchard stands out even among the company's many triumphs, I'm saying a lot. See it.
