Chicago

By Desmond Sam

 

The musical Chicago is raw and has an awkward structure that proves originality. Everything from the set to the costumes and cast is different, but captivating.

Chicago focuses on a woman named Roxie who is an inspiring actress. She is married, but has an affair and ends up killing her lover. She goes to jail and becomes a star because of the publicity surrounding her trial. Velma, Roxie’s cellmate, also wants to be famous, so she and Roxie have some issues. In the end, they realize that they need each other to reach their goals.

The cast makes this show a spectacular piece of art. Deidre Goodwin (Velma Kelly) and Roz Ryan (Matron “Mama” Morton) each have amazing voices that really stand out. Goodwin begins the show with a favorite by all Broadway lovers, “All that Jazz”. Then, Ryan performs “When You’re Good to Mama” a song made famous by Queen Latifah in the movie version. Ryan even talks to the audience, making us part of the festivities.

The orchestra is unique because the pit is right in the middle of the stage. The conductor is also a standout performer because she communicates with the cast throughout the show. She isn’t just a conductor, but also a character in the show.

The dancing made my jaw drop. It had a bit of jazz, contemporary and even ballet. The music sometimes creates a Spanish feel or a Blues touch that affect the dancing and the mood of the theatre. The show is able to exploit the glitz and glamour of the vaudeville era by using only chairs, simple black costumes and an occasional ladder. With so few props and costumes, the cast is really able to express the show’s true spirit, proving that less is more.

I recommend Chicago because many teenagers crave fame. Many people believe that criminal acts are the easiest gateways to fame. One thing that they never notice is that fame doesn’t last forever, especially when you use murder as your main talent. This is the theme of the show and makes it one of the top dogs of Broadway. 

HOW TO SEE THE SHOW: $31.50 general rush • Ambassador Theatre, 219 W. 49th St.

Smudge

by Alyssa Zakaryan

Smudge begins with an expecting couple, Colby and Nick, confused by the ultrasound photo of their baby. They can’t even determine the baby’s gender. When the baby is born, to say that Colby and Nick are surprised is an understatement – the baby comes out with only one puny “leg” and one “Caribbean Sea colored eye.” The rest of play shows how both parents react and cope (or at least try to) with their daughter, their “little monster”, Cassandra.

Cassandra’s birth summons fear, resentment, pity and denial. She invokes an unconventional array of emotions in those who interact with her. The characters are very complex – their outer appearances are only shallow representations of their true feelings and expectations. While Nick appears to be the ideal father by interacting with Cassandra, he is in fact in denial of her terrible disposition, constantly telling her to “reach for the carrot” with the arms she does not have. On the other hand, Colby is very upfront with her detestation towards “it,” but resentfully grows to care for Cassandra – this is after tormenting Cassandra with a plush toy made with many limbs protruding everywhere.

Smudge explores an area that seems untouched – can a parent really love their child no matter what? Parents are expected to love their child unconditionally right off the bat. Usually parents are portrayed as all loving, and if the baby is defective, they rush to take care of it. With Cassandra, the baby becomes the enemy because she is different and because of her parents’ difficulty in loving and accepting her.

Playwright Rachel Axler (from The Daily Show and Parks and Recreation) shows the diverging sides of a possible reaction to such a tragic and unexpected situation. Smudge is a play that will make you think – what would you do in this situation?

HOW TO SEE THE SHOW: $20 general rush • thru Feb. 7 • Julia Miles Theater, 424 W. 55th St.

Safe Home

by Ben Ellentuck

I must admit: going to see Safe Home I was not particularly optimistic. A family drama set in the 1950s about a son going off and dying in the Korean War does not strike me (I can only speak for myself here, though I suspect I am not alone) as making for an “enjoyable” theater experience. Perhaps the play would be weighed down with facts? Or politics? Fortunately it was neither of these things. In the end, however, the premise seemed to get the best of it.

The son is a 19-year-old version of the person who would have grown up to be the playwright’s uncle; the piece was inspired by one of his “shockingly poignant” letters “from a cold and lonely outpost in Korea” (I’m quoting the Playwright’s Note on the first page of my program, if you’re curious). It chronicles the lives of his family—him, his two teenage brothers, his stressed mother and burnt-out father—jumping back and forth between the time before he left for Korea (1951) and the time after his death (1953). His enlistment tears the family apart only to bring them back together again, and his death brings the family back together only to tear them apart once more. Of course, the boy has a romantic interest, and in the end we see that even in the face of death love conquers all (awww…). (Not to marginalize the romance per se—the actress who plays the romantic interest, Claire, brings an interesting 21^st century take to the role; I almost wished we saw more of her—but it is just that: the “old-fashioned” token teen romance in the family drama.)

In the end, the play just didn’t excite my emotions. There wasn’t anything about it that I found particularly disturbing, or funny, or moving. There wasn’t anything particularly anything: the piece was very nebulous. It certainly wasn’t whimsical; rather, the playwright seemed to be going for something grittier. But the play’s feet weren’t planted firmly enough in the ground for it to be earthy. It seemed to be stuck in a sort of purgatorial blandness that really didn’t excite my interest in any of the characters. I got to know what they were like, but I never felt like I knew who they were. (The exception, perhaps, was Claire, but this seemed to have more to do with the actress’s take on the role than anything else.)

Perhaps the letters from the son really are shockingly poignant. (I do not doubt this, in fact—especially if that son is your would-be uncle.) The playwright, however, seemed to have trouble translating this emotion into something theatrically exciting. 

HOW TO SEE THE SHOW: $10 student rush tickets • Women's Interart Center • 500 West 52 Street • Friday & Saturday at 8PM; Sunday at 5PM; Monday at 7PM

Once and For All We're Gonna Tell You Who We Are So Shut Up and Listen

by Sami Bonilla and Adina Abercrombie 

Sami: For a play with such a long name, it’s really quite simple. 

Adina: Once and for All We’re Gonna Tell You Who We Are So Shut Up and Listen is a show about rebellion and misunderstanding. It is full of energy, excitement, and even confusion. Though this show only had a few words of dialogue, it still had a lot to say about teenagers and the issues that we face as we try to figure out who we are and where we are going. This show was a chance for teenagers to speak out without interruptions.

Sami: At first, I was confused about what was going on as the actors destroyed the set by writing on the floor, throwing cups around, and more. It was a disaster! I found myself thinking that these teenagers were nothing better then a pack of animals with their boundless energy. However, even though it looked destructive, it showed something else – that you can only set boundaries after personally finding out what they are, and that’s what these teenagers were doing.

Adina: The show explained that, as teenagers, we’re often called out of control, when we are really just trying to find ourselves. Telling a teenager not to make the same mistake you did isn’t going to stop them from making that mistake because they have to experience it for themselves. Teenagers are going to bend, break and try to change rules that can’t be bent, broken or changed.

Sami: Near the end of the play, one of the female actors says that you are free to tell her what to do, like giving her a curfew, but she will always come home after it. “And I will be piss drunk,” she comments, which made me laugh. She explains that it isn’t because you tell her not to, or because you have or haven't done it, but for the simple fact that she hasn't tried it yet.

Adina: The message to teenagers is that everyone has that point when you don’t know who you are or what you want, but do what you can to figure it out. Never hold back because holding back will make that process painful.

Sami: Once and For All We're Gonna Tell You Who We Are So Shut Up and Listen is not about teenagers being destructive and wanting to do bad things, instead it shows that teenagers are not meant to be stereotyped or called ignorant. I was able to connect to them because I know how it feels to be to told, “You're just a kid so you won't understand!”

Adina: There was a character who said it was hard for her to express herself, so she writes what she thinks about people on a post-it note and sticks it to them. This is someone I relate to because often times, when asked my opinion, I find it hard to say what I am thinking out loud. However, when I have my journal, I can express myself without a problem.  I believe it comes from my fear of judgment. No one likes to be judged, so often times, we don’t share our opinions.

Sami: I kept on thinking, “I could have been in this!"

Adina: I heard one teenage girl say “I’ve done that before,” and I heard another girl say, “Maybe my mom should come see this.” Once and For All We're Gonna Tell You Who We Are So Shut Up and Listen made me think, and when a show does that, it is successful.

HOW TO SEE THE SHOW: $25 tickets • The Duke on 42nd • 229 W. 42nd • Performances: Thursday, January 14 @ 7:30pm; Friday, January 15 @ 7:30pm; Saturday, January 16 @ 2pm; Saturday, January 16 @ 7:30pm; Sunday, January 17 @ 3pm

Editor's Note: All shows are currently sold out, but don't despair! Call 646-223-3010 for tickets other people cancel, or sign up for the wait list at the theatre 1 hour before the performance.

Race

by Jahnesha Huertas

David Mamet’s (playwright and director) new play Race will definitely keep fans of his past work (such as Oleanna) pleased as he once again puts his signature spin on society’s opinions of power and status.

The play begins with Charles Strickland, a white man charged with the rape of a black girl, coming to the law firm of Jack Lawson and Henry Brown. Lawson and Brown are suspicious that there is more to the story than Strickland is telling. Susan, the office intern, strongly feels that the suspect is guilty from the beginning. The debate goes into whether the alleged victim was a true lover of Strictland or if the whole ordeal was racially motivated. Secrets from Strictland’s past sprout up from nowhere, and Susan does everything in her power to make sure that justice is served.

Race puts a strong focus on the different interpretations that the white and black community puts on race, what is viewed as politically incorrect, and if foul play against a guilty person is justified. The fast and intense dialogue of the play is a pleasure to watch, however, some of the conversations seem very choppy and abrupt, as if the actors are reciting their lines mechanically and don’t fully internalize what they are saying.

The entire play takes place in the law firm and the only indication that we have of the passage of time are some minor costume changes. The set is kept simple to allow for more of an emphasize on the plot. The whole cast does a very good job of telling the story, however, James Spader (playing lawyer Jack Lawson) was the most dynamic onstage and portrayed a lawyer very naturally and realistically (perhaps because he played a lawyer on the TV series Boston Legal). 

Mamet’s newest play Race made me think about a question that I never paid much attention to before: If you are guilty of sinister acts against a guilty person, does that somehow make you less guilty?

HOW TO SEE THE SHOW: $26.50 student rush • Barrymore Theatre, 243 W. 47th St.