Dog and Wolf

From the start, Catherine Filloux's Dog and Wolf, directed by Jean Randich, sets up unconvincing situations and characters. Why would a political refugee be so unwilling to make her case? Why would the lawyer put up with her? And why does he keep circling back and forth in his wheelchair like, well, an actor carrying out awkward blocking? The first two questions are eventually answered, but not satisfactorily. The third question reflects Randich's generally annoying staging. For example, the actress playing the political refugee keeps making believe that she's chain-smoking, throwing one long untouched cigarette to the ground and squishing it with her heel and then faux-lighting another. (Yes, there was probably a reason the actors couldn't smoke, but the untouched cigarettes were distracting--it's a small theatre!) Similarly, a character mentions that wine is about to be served from a jerry can, but then pours it from some sort of plastic bottle (jerry cans are steel). Details matter! After the "dog and wolf" phrase is explained (at dusk you can't tell one from the other), the show talks a lot about sheep. I don't know why. Dog and Wolf clearly aims to be a significant statement about politics and repression, but the stories of abuse felt manipulative and the depiction of one of the Bosnian women came across as condescending ("oh, look at the entertaining ethnic person who will help the white guy find his emotions").

4Play

Photo: Mark Raker

If you like really bad puns, men in kilts doing and saying silly things, and gorgeous juggling, then the Flying Karamazov Brothers are for you. In their latest show, 4Play, they provide a hilarious version of the Dance of the Cygnets from Swan Lake, wear funny glasses, and juggle while playing musical instruments. And that's just the tip of the iceberg! A good time was had by all.

Race

photo: Robert J. Saferstein

David Mamet's sharky waters can make many an actor belly up but James Spader cuts a course through the territory with killer ferocity. Lean and hyperfocused, his central performance as a no-nonsense, hip-shooting attorney is the reason to see this otherwise thin, far less provocative than advertised drama. The central plot concerns the legal defense of a noted, affluent middle aged white man (Richard Thomas) accused of raping a black woman. Mamet means to get in our faces as the lawyers (Spader, along with an excellent but underused David Alan Grier) suss out how to work the jury, but he doesn't really have anything substantive to say on the subject; it just keeps coming back to everyone feels guilty and everyone is out for themselves. Thomas has the extremely challenging job of playing a character who by design has to seem equally credible as guilty and innocent to the audience - he does the job, but his performance seems strategic at every moment. If you are familiar with Mamet you can easily predict what's going on with the young black female in the law office - it's not a real character but an idea of one, and Kerry Washington doesn't overcome its artificiality. Nonetheless there is genuine theatrical pleasure in watching Spader do a hustling, cunning Mamet man - he's a magnetic force on stage despite this being his debut, and he speaks the dialogue like he's spitting out nails.

Happy Now?

photo: James Leynse

While overlong (at 2 and a half hours), at its best Lucinda Coxon's portrait of a highly functional, entirely competent but unhappy modern woman (played by Mary Bacon) taps into a nagging fear: even doing everything we're supposed to and "having it all" isn't enough for happiness. To the playwright's credit, she doesn't have the character learn or espouse some tidy life lesson - instead we're asked to clock the ordinary, run of the mill disappointments and do the math ourselves. The playwright's overarching idea is solid, but some of the details are trite - a bit about how men hate "Will & Grace", for instance, makes you feel like studio audience. The play has a distinctive humor some of the time, such as in the nifty opening scene between our heroine and a cheesy serial seducer (C.J. Wilson, a hoot), but it's not consistent.

Dog And Wolf

Reviewed for Theatermania.

Clybourne Park

It's 1959 and black family's about to move into a white Chicago neighborhood, to the consternation of the community. White flight. Half a century passes and after rough times the neighborhood is ripe for gentrification. But resentment lingers into the new generation, and by the time a contractor digs up an old trunk buried in the yard, and plops the baggage of the ages literally on center stage, we've seen just how the ugliness of America's never-ending racial "conversation" has transformed over the decades – transformed, but hardly died down. Aided by Pam MacKinnon's commendably transparent direction and fine performances all around, playwright Bruce Norris has dramatized his perceptive view of these changes (and lack thereof) with wit, skill, and heart. The play never feels self-conscious; it deals with larger-than-life issues with compelling life-sized characters and naturalistic dialogue – the hardest kind to write. It's a marvelous accomplishment. Click here the full review and a discount ticket code.