'Detroit '67' Doesn't Quite Burn, but Bristles With Tension As It Brings History Home -- Chicago Theater Review

Theater Review

Detroit '67

A new play by Dominique Morisseau

Directed by Ron OJ Parson

Northlight Theatre, Skokie

Thru December 15

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I was going to start this review by saying that I've never lived through a riot. But that's not entirely true.

In 1992, I was residing in Los Angeles—albeit up in the San Fernando Valley—when riots erupted following the acquittal of LAPD thugs in the beating of Rodney King. Although the protesting, looting, violence and burning never came near my apartment in Encino, I can't deny some moments of palpable tension in following the action on TV. Not least because it occurred to me the rioters would've made a more pointed statement had they infiltrated the tonier white areas, rather than merely causing destruction in South Central LA.

In Dominique Morisseau's new play, Detroit '67—centered around riots in that city in that year—there is palpable tension as riots erupt, fires blaze, beatings (by cops) ensue and National Guard tanks roll through town. Except that in Northlight's current production we never see any of this, other than on a TV monitor that is part of a lobby display.

I don't have any defined, or likely viable, suggestions for how the play could have been written or staged differently. And as my @@@@ rating connotes, I actually liked it a good deal while gaining insights into events with which I was largely unfamiliar.

Yet in confining the onstage action to the basement of a Detroit home near where the riots occurred, Morisseau—and a cast of terrific actors—artfully gives the audience a sense of the riot in human terms, but stops short of ever making us really feel like we're in the midst of it, or in acute danger.

Directed here by Ron OJ Parson in just the drama's second ever staging, Detroit '67 is based in the home near 12th & Clairbourne shared by grown siblings Chelle (Tyra Abercrumbie) and Lank (Kamal Angelo Bolden) after the death of their parents. As a means of income, they—aided by friends Sly (Kelvin Roston, Jr.) and Bunny (Coco Elysses)—host parties in their basement featuring much great Motown music, which not incidentally was being created just blocks away.

Many wonderful recordings accompany the narrative, initially via Chelle's cherished Motown 45s, but with the arrival of 8-track tapes early in the play serving as a metaphor for Lank's ambition to move forward.

Not so unlike the character of Walter Younger in A Raisin in the Sun—a play I recently saw for the first time in a TimeLine Theatre production also directed by Parson—Lank, whose full name of Langston Hughes Poindexter also ties him to Lorraine Hansberry's classic 1950s play (the title comes from a Langston Hughes poem), burns with a desire to reach beyond his current station in life.

As in Raisin, the money that Lank wants to invest—with Sly, to open a new bar—comes from a shared inheritance, and his plans meet with resistance, here from his sister Chelle, who (like Walter's wife Ruth in Raisin) thinks being conservative with the money is much more prudent than a risky venture with more than a degree of sketchiness in its details.

But despite the echoes, Detroit '67 is far from a re-tread of A Raisin in the Sun. And the acting done by Abercrumbie and Bolden, in particular, is truly terrific; one acutely appreciates the affection that accompanies the siblings' different opinions and outlooks.

As Sly and Bunny, Roston, Jr. and Elysses are also stellar, and the fifth cast member, Cassandra Bissell, capably handles a role that is among the things about this work that could likely use some re-working.

Bissell plays Caroline, a young white woman who Lank and Sly find beaten to a pulp on the street and bring to the seeming safe haven of the basement.

I understand Morrisseau wanting to broaden the perspectives her play brings to the riot, and Caroline has enough subplots of her own to justify her character being part of the story, but there is something that feels inauthentic and implausible about her backstory and the way she is woven in.

Again, I don't have a ready solution and Morisseau is clearly a gifted writer who likely tried various ways to work a character such as Caroline into the plot. But she likely needs to keep tinkering.

There are also some issues with the play's structure, with too many "lights off" moments that suggest the first act has ended, only for it to continue.

Also, without wanting to reveal too much about what happens—though you only have until Sunday to catch this play in Skokie; take advantage of Northlight's day-of-show discount tickets for just $20 like I did—while the riot does have direct consequences on Chelle, Lank, Sly, etc., the single set-piece of the basement kept me too removed from truly understanding what prompted, sparked and stoked the riot.

And not everything about the plot and the show's pacing perfectly congeals at this point.

But while Morrisseau and whoever stages this play next have some work to do to make Detroit '67 approach the intensity of the event it chronicles, there is already much here to applaud and many in the Sunday matinee audience bestowed a well-deserved standing ovation.

Including me.

Detroit '67 may not yet be a fully formed play, but in providing valuable historical perspective—especially for just $20—it is more than worthwhile.

A Practically Perfect Mary Poppins Helps Marriott's Production Rise Above Restricted Airspace -- Chicago Theater Review

Theater Review

Mary Poppins
Marriott Theatre, Lincolnshire, IL
Directed by Gary Griffin
Thru January 5, 2014
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My affinity for Mary Poppins, the stage musical, is a bit surprisingly--mostly to myself--substantially more tied to the musical itself than to the classic 1963 movie.

I certainly saw the Disney film as a kid and have always retained an affinity for infectious Sherman Bros. tunes like "A Spoonful of Sugar," "Jolly Holiday," "Let's Go Fly a Kite" and "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious."

But until I watched a good chunk of the movie on Thanksgiving night, it had been eons, while even before catching a performance Friday night at Marriott Theatre Lincolnshire, I had seen the stage version four times since 2005--first in London and then 3 times on two national tours at Chicago's Cadillac Palace.

And I really loved it onstage, certainly in no small measure due to the classic songs, but also due to a smart "book" by Julian Fellowes that deviates from the film a bit--and supposedly gleans a bit more from P.L. Travers' books--and strong original tunes such as "Being Mrs. Banks" and "Anything Can Happen."

I had the good fortune of seeing the original London Mary, Laura Michelle Kelly, and Gavin Lee as Mary's painter-park dweller-chimney sweep pal Bert. Lee reprised his role on Broadway and he & Broadway's original Mary, Ashley Brown, were in the first touring cast that I saw twice in Chicago. A subsequent 2011 tour with Rachel Wallace and Nicholas Dromard was also stellar (as I offered in this review).

But along with excellent performers and some terrific production numbers--for "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious" and "Step in Time," among others--part of the magic from up high in a large theater was seeing Mary Poppins quite literally (well, almost) fly.

It was a thrill--accompanied by audible gasps--when the nanny and her umbrella soared to the rafters of the Prince Edward Theatre and Cadillac Palace.

Certainly, the creatives at the Marriott Theatre in Lincolnshire--which, as we were reminded while being asked to subscribe, has the largest subscription base of any theater in the country--have regularly devised ways to offset the staging challenges posed by their theater in the round. 

While I actually pay a good bit more (ad hoc) for musicals at Marriott than for Broadway in Chicago downtown musicals (I'm a subscriber to the latter), I understand their spatial limitations but have been routinely impressed by the quality of their productions.

Although I was looking forward to seeing Mary Poppins at Marriott--especially upon reading that Summer Naomi Smart, one of Chicago's best and most beautiful actresses, would be starring in it--my expectations were dampened by a disparaging review by the Tribune's Chris Jones, whose opinions I highly respect.

While praising Smart and other performances--deservedly--Jones belittled the ring of video screens on
which certain scenery was depicted and Mary's "flying" was enacted.

Though I may have been swayed by Jones' aversion, I too found the video screens to be unnecessary, especially as the projections were rather amateurish and cheesy.

But though I didn't love this production as much as the London/touring Broadway versions I'd seen—largely due to the video screens and the concomitant inability to ever let Mary take flight—unlike Jones, who award 2 stars out of 4, I found much more to enjoy about Marriott's Mary Poppins than I didn't.

Beginning with Summer Naomi Smart.

Like the song goes, as Mary she was “practically perfect in every way,” looking lovely, singing wonderfully, acting engagingly and even doing a good bit of dancing.

It's a good thing Mary Poppins is no longer running on Broadway as it's easy to imagine Smart being smartly swept up by NYC (though that possibility would still seem to loom).

But Smart isn't the only standout in this cast. Longtime Chicago actor and Marriott veteran Bernie Yvon is fun and well-sung as Bert, and key roles are filled with highly talented performers, including Susan Moniz (Mrs. Banks), Rod Thomas (Mr. Banks), Paula Scrofano, John Reeger, Rebecca Finnegan and at the performance I saw, Madison Glora Olszewski (I believe, though it could have been Caroline Heffernan) and Johnny Rabe as Jane and Michael Banks. 

Truly, the entire ensemble was quite impressive.

So by no means did I feel this rendition of Mary Poppins—helmed by Chicago's most acclaimed theatrical director, Gary Griffin—was predominantly subpar. Rather the contrary, despite the spatial challenges and some choices that were made.

The blissful songs, strong book, excellent performances, appealing—if not quite downtown-dazzling production numbers--and luminous leading lady were sufficient enough to keep a smile on my face most of the evening.

And while I can't quite rave like I did upon seeing Mary Poppins at full-tilt, I wouldn't dissuade anyone taking in a jolly holiday performance, with or without their kids. 

For even if Mary here is unable to fly—and the kite in “Let's Go Fly a Kite” gets only slightly more elevated--the musical itself remains not only uplifting but... (see photo below). 

The Chicago Dining World Tour: Russian Across the Street Proves an Appetizing--and Rather Exotic--Expedition

Zhivago

Russian

9925 Gross Point Rd., Skokie

847.982.1400

Website

What I ate: Blinis with Red Caviar, Borscht, Beef Stroganoff, Spartak (cake)

Technically, Sydney, Australia--or perhaps Melbourne--is the furthest from home I've ever traveled. In air miles, Sydney is twice as far from Chicago as is St. Petersburg, Russia.

But if not in distance, than in a difference in sensibility, I think St. Petersburg is the most exotic place I've ever been. Though St. Petersburg is barely into Russia in the far northwest corner, and I went on a 2008 trip to Scandinavia following visits to Copenhagen, Stockholm and Helsinki, from the size of the buildings to the visages of the people, the city felt quite far away from Europe, let alone America. (That's not to say I didn't enjoy it, as among other sights, I visited the Hermitage Museum and the Church on Spilled Blood, two of the most glorious places I've ever seen.)

On my Chicago Dining World Tour this year, I've been to a few dozen places in and around Chicago. But when it came to Russian food, I went to a Skokie restaurant--Zhivago--that is 2 minutes from my home and across the street from the house in which I grew up and in which my mom still lives.

Yet although Zhivago is housed in the building that once was Tower Garden Restaurant & Banquets, where I attended a few Bar Mitzvahs decades ago, in enjoying a nice dinner there a few weeks ago for my mom's birthday, with my sister Allison also joining us, it somehow felt worlds away. Perhaps not quite as though we were in Russia, but also not nearly as close to home as we really were.

In a large, pleasantly-appointed dining room--one of 3, and that doesn't even include the banquet facilities--we were initially served a plate of bread with butter, string chips and paté, which is essentially like Chopped Liver and thus savored by my mom but not me nor Allison, who is vegetarian. Unlike at a recent French food excursion, I tried the paté, but my opinion was unchanged.

For an appetizer, I ordered Blinis a La Dr. Zhivago, which the menu calls Peter the Great’s favorite appetizer. The best in the world from Russia.

I don't know what exactly translates to what, but although as you can see, there were crepes and a mix of hard boiled egg and scallions, the key thing here was caviar. There was a choice of Red Caviar or Black Caviar, the latter listed at "Market Price," which never means cheap.  

So I got some Red Caviar and really liked it; it reminded me of roe, which comes on certain types of sushi maki, and also tasted a bit like lox. Which as I've now learned makes sense since lox, roe and red caviar all come from salmon.

Next up, in addition to complimentary Russian black bread, was Borscht, which was beet soup with cabbage and potatoes. Though I'd heard of borscht for years, I'd never had it, and it was different than I anticipated. But as with the red caviar, I really liked it. Prior to the entrees, Allison got a salad which she enjoyed.

My mom has always enjoyed duck and it was nice that for her birthday meal she was able to order Moscowian Duck = Half roasted duck served with drunken sour cherry sauce.

She reported liking it very much, noting that the skin was crisp, meat moist and the dark cherry flavoring quite tasteful.

The duck was accompanied by green beans, white beans, potatoes and carrots.

For her entree, Allison ordered Wild Mushroom Ravioli, which came in a mushroom Alfredo sauce. She stated that it was good.

My main dish was rather traditionally Russian: Beef Stroganoff ala St. Petersburg = Julienned beef tenderloin sauteed in a light creamy mushroom sauce, served with buckwheat kasha or bow-tie pasta (I chose pasta).

I can't say that I'd want to eat this every week, and given the big dollop of sour cream I probably shouldn't, but I sufficiently enjoyed it as something a bit different and happily finished the serving.

I'll get to our desserts in a moment, but getting back to what I said up top about feeling like we were somewhere else, this was clearly exacerbated by the live music and dancing that started going on in the dining room next to us during the course of our meal.

Skokie has a large Russian population and one would surmise that Zhivago is a popular destination for Russians living throughout the area. And it was a lot of fun to see a roomful of patrons dancing--and likely consuming substantial quantities of vodka, of which we didn't partake--without any apparent reservations.

Though I had witnessed something similar, albeit on a smaller scale, on a Greek dining excursion, it was nice to see people enjoying themselves, unabashedly, to this extent.

Not that I had any inclination to get up and join them, but it made our meal all the more festive.

Of course, closing out with some great desserts didn't hurt either.

Allison had Tartufo, which per Wikipedia is an Italian ice cream dessert in which a ball of ice cream is encased in a shell of chocolate. Although it's been a few weeks, I don't recall her having any complaints.

Mom got some Apple Streudel, which I believe she liked.

I got Spartak, which I know I did. This was a piece of cake, accompanied by ice cream. A bit removed, I can't describe it precisely, but I know it was rather different and quite good.

As was our visit to Zhivago, which felt like a trip around the world and across the street at the same time.

Saturday Night's More Than Alright for Seeing Sir Elton John -- Chicago Concert Review

Concert Review

Elton John
Allstate Arena, Rosemont, IL
November 30, 2013
@@@@1/2

For virtually the entirety of Elton John's 160-minute performance Saturday night at Allstate Arena, I saw just the back of Sir Elton's head (and his sparkly Captain Fantastic jacket).

But this was alright, for not only did a video screen help with some front views, not only did my $29 (+ Ticketmaster fees) "side view" ticket equate to less money per song than one would spend on iTunes--he played 28 if counting "Funeral for a Friend" and "Love Lies Bleeding" separately; here's the full setlist--but there's nowhere one would rather see Elton John than hunched over his piano, pumping out classic after classic.

With the living legend in fine voice and good spirits, the opening couplet of "Funeral For a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding" was followed by the remainder of "the first side of Goodbye Yellow Brick Road": "Bennie and the Jets," "Candle in the Wind" and "Gray Seal."

Sir Elton and his crack band--including Nigel Olsson, his drummer since 1969, and longtime guitarist Davey Johnstone--would subsequently give us stellar versions of "Levon," "Tiny Dancer," "Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters" and "Philadelphia Freedom"...and that was just in the first hour.

Several other old hits would follow, as well as two tasteful songs from Elton's latest album, The Diving Board.

Along with two great friends and a sold out crowd, singing along with "Rocket Man," "I Guess That's Why They Call It the Blues," "I'm Still Standing," "The Bitch is Back," "Saturday Night's Alright For Fighting," "Your Song" and the falsetto la-la-las on the closing "Crocodile Rock" was a ton of fun, and made for about as good an Elton John show one could want, certainly circa 2013 but not just.

But being me, I have one minor quibble that keeps this from being a full @@@@@ review.

There's no denying that Elton is a great showman, who knows how to put on a crowd-pleasing show. And having also become a highly successful Broadway composer over the past 2 decades--not to mention a Vegas act--perhaps the former Reginald Dwight finds comfort in theatrical regimentation.

But along with great songs aplenty, I prefer a bit of spontaneity and a sense that the show I'm seeing in Chicago is somehow a bit different than the one delivered in Detroit, St. Paul and Atlanta (a few recent tour stops that got the exact same setlist from Elton).

I recognize that beyond personal favorites Bruce Springsteen and Pearl Jam, as well as jam bands like Phish, few concert acts seem comfortable switching up their setlist night after night. And while I appreciate Tribune critic Greg Kot's suggestion that it would be cool seeing Elton playing deeper cuts in an intimate venue, I don't know his early run of classic albums through and through (though I'm getting there), so I can't say this would be my preference.

Plus, on Saturday night Sir Elton did sprinkle in catalog cuts like "All the Young Girls Love Alice," "Holiday Inn," "Hey Ahab" and "Believe."

So I have no beef with the setlist we got in Rosemont, I just felt that Elton would be better served to go "off script" at times, perhaps playing something here that he didn't elsewhere, or telling some stories expounding on his comments about loving Chicago.

For the past 3 times I had seen Elton John, it was on his his Face2Face Piano Men tours with Billy Joel (and the time before that was on a double bill with Eric Clapton at Dodger Stadium). And as good as Elton always was, Billy was consistently a bit better because he was more fun and engaging.

And it's not like Elton didn't leave out a number of great songs that he could occasionally sprinkle in: "Daniel," "Honky Cat," "Take Me to the Pilot," "I Need You To Turn To," etc., etc.

Also, with Rose Stone (of Sly & the Family Stone) and her daughter Lisa being among Elton's backup singers, there's no reason not to do a romp through "Everyday People," "Dance to the Music" or "Stand."

As I said above, a minor quibble that did little to diminish the joy derived from seeing one of rock's greatest performers still at the peak of his concert powers. But just enough to keep a terrific show from going over-the-top into truly transcendent territory.

--
Here's a video of "Rocket Man" posted to YouTube (expect many more to pop up) by someone named Sojasey1, who had a head-on side-stage vantage point across from where I was. 

Pithy Philosophies #11

Seth Saith:

Class is most demonstrated at those times when you least want to demonstrate it.

'Elf the Musical' is Charmingly Cheery but Not All That Grand of Stature -- Chicago Theater Review

Theater Review

Elf the Musical 

Music by Matthew Sklar

Lyrics by Chad Beguelin

Cadillac Palace, Chicago

Thru December 15

@@@1/2

I have never seen the movie Elf, not expressly because I am Jewish nor because it stars Will Ferrell (I am told it is one of his better ones).

But there have been a number of screen-to-stage adaptations I've greatly enjoyed despite not having previously seen the source movie--including Hairspray, The Producers, Kinky Boots and the seasonally-relevant A Christmas Story.

In some ways, without discounting the pleasure any good movie can provide, I almost prefer not to be familiar with the movie when seeing the stage version, especially in my role as a self-anointed critic.

If I and others are paying to see a live show, it should hold up as its own work of art, not merely a brand-name way to sell tickets. Although it should be noted that on Tuesday, the first night of Elf's national tour stop in Chicago, the balcony at the Cadillac Palace was as full as I've seen it in recent memory.

Photo credits: Amy Boyle Photography

And with the caveat that I am a Broadway in Chicago subscriber who didn't pay much, nor anew, to see Elf, I didn't feel cheated in any way. Elf will not rank among the best musicals I've seen this year, or even this month, but it was fun, festive and sufficiently tuneful. From it, I can imagine that the movie is likewise enjoyable if not sensational.

With Broadway Book of Mormon veteran Will Blum appealing in the lead role, Elf features a nice score by Matthew Sklar, with lyrics by Chad Beguelin. The two collaborated on The Wedding Singer musical and know their way around a professional showtune.

"Christmastown" and "A Christmas Song," are upbeat odes to the holiday season, while "Nobody Cares About Santa" is an imaginative, terrifically-sardonic piece sung by a host of world-weary department store Santas in a late-night Chinese restaurant in New York City.

Without knowing how much of the book came directly from the movie, I also was impressed--to a certain extent--by the work done by Thomas Meehan and Bob Martin. But the former had worked on The Producers and Hairspray and the latter The Drowsy Chaperone, so that they knew how to make Elf appealing without taking itself too seriously doesn't come as much of a surprise.

If one is looking for a enjoyable holiday musical, whether for the family, without such or just for ones'Elf, this warmhearted work should put a smile on your face.

Yes, it ultimately is rather facile, schmaltzy and even formulaic--I imagine the movie is too--and not every song or production number is a winner. But Blum does a nice job, as does Lindsay Nicole Chambers as Elf's love interest and Larry Cahn as his father.

I am certainly no worse off for having seen Elf nor having it included in my subscription series, and while @@@1/2 doesn't connote a rave review, it was actually considerably better than I was envisioning.

Per my ratings scale, @@@1/2 does denote a show somewhere between good and excellent, and both the piece itself and this touring production fit comfortably into that range.

I might even have to see the movie now.

A Most Welcome Introduction to 'A Raisin in the Sun' -- Chicago Theater Review

Chicago Theater Review

A Raisin in the Sun
by Lorraine Hansberry
directed by Ron OJ Parson
TimeLine Theatre, Chicago
Thru December 7
@@@@1/2

I certainly won't suggest that I've seen every play that could be considered great and/or important.

But of those I'm aware of, I have attended many that could be regarded as works everyone should see:

Arthur Miller's Death of a Salesman, My Three Sons and The Crucible; Tennesee Williams' The Glass Menagerie, A Streetcar Named Desire and Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, Eugene O'Neill's Long Day's Journey Into Night and The Iceman Cometh, Edward Albee's Whose Afraid of Virginia Woolf, Thornton Wilder's Our Town, Neil Simon's The Odd Couple and Lost in Yonkers, David Mamet's American Buffalo and Glengarry Glen Ross, Shakespeare's Hamlet and The Merchant of Venice and more contemporary classics like David Auburn's Proof, John Patrick Shanley's Doubt, Tracy Letts' August: Osage County and Martin McDonagh's The Pillowman and The Lieutenant of Inishmore. 

To this esteemed--and not nearly comprehensive--list, I can now add Lorraine Hansberry's A Raisin in the Sun.

No, I never even read it in high school, or saw the movie, or saw the musical version titled simply Raisin.

The closest I came was seeing Bruce Norris' terrific (and recent Tony Award and Pulitzer Prize winning) Clybourne Park, which plays off A Raisin in the Sun by imagining what might have happened in the years before--and long after--Hansberry's narrative.

Based in part on real-life events involving Hansberry's own family, and taking its name from a line in a Langston Hughes poem, A Raisin in the Sun chronicles the Youngers, a multi-generational African-American family living together on Chicago's South Side in the early 1950s.

The central character is seemingly Walter Lee Younger, who from the characterization and the casting at TimeLine Theatre appears to be somewhere in his 30s. Though I say this without any acute point of comparison, Jerod Haynes seems to play the role perfectly. (In a new Broadway revival next year, Denzel Washington will play the role. While Denzel can do anything he wants--and I would hope to see it--it would seem that he's a bit old to be playing Walter, at least as written with a son of about 10.)

Walter works as a chauffeur and while his wife Ruth--wonderfully played here by Toni Martin--seems to be content with their lot in life, Walter bristles with a desire, perhaps even a desperation, to do something more with his.

His disquiet is exacerbated by the anticipation of his mother--also superbly acted by Greta Oglesby--coming into a sizable sum of money due to the passing of Walter's father.

Although this is a famous play that has been around for over 50 years I don't want to reveal everything that happens. But while it involves less stage time than I expected, the crux of the storyline centers around Mama Younger's decision to purchase a house for her family that happens to be in a white neighborhood.

The bigotry the Youngers encounter is ugly, perhaps all the more so for the way it is depicted here, cased in 1950's decorum and "wouldn't it be better for you (not to move here)" bullshit, embodied by Karl Lindner, a representative from the new neighborhood (well-acted by Chris Rickett).

Although it debuted on Broadway in 1959, Hansberry began writing A Raisin in the Sun in the early 50s, prior to Rosa Parks, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., the Civil Rights Era and Malcolm X, so it's quite impressive and somewhat eerie how prescient she was. And sad that all these years later, even with a black man in the White House, it feels like this play could be set in the present day. Other than some of the manner of dress, there is really nothing about Raisin that feels dated.

And as always, TimeLine--one of Chicago's best theaters--does an outstanding job staging it. The acting
is terrific, and given the close quarters of the auditorium, you almost feel you are in the Youngers' home with them.

As a small quibble on a first-time viewing--and explanation for not quite giving it @@@@@--I felt the 3-hour play took a bit too much time getting to the central crisis. I appreciated how Hansberry sets up all her characters, including Walter's sister Bennie (Mildred Marie Langford, also stellar) and a pair of suitors meant to serve as symbols, but I can't say I was truly riveted until the storyline focused more overtly on the family's decision to relocate.

Still, this is clearly a play that deserves its revered stature, and more frequent productions than it seems to get (since I started attending theater regularly in the early 21st century, I've never had a chance to see it in Chicago). Deservedly, it has been consistently sold out at TimeLine since opening in August, and its few remaining performances seem to be.

But TimeLine does have a standby policy, so if you're able to get to A Raisin in the Sun, you really should. And it not, perhaps next spring on Broadway with Denzel. Even if this may truly have been a better introduction.

The Chicago Dining World Tour: A Near West Side Story of 'Delicioso' Puerto Rican Food

Cafe Central

Puerto Rican

1437 W Chicago Ave, Chicago

312.243.6776

Menu Pages

What I ate: Pionono, Roast Pork Jibarito, Yellow Rice with Pigeon Peas, Vanilla Flan

When it comes to the Taste of Chicago, the city's summertime smorgasbord of mass consumption, many avidly avoid it while others can take it or leave it.

I, however, love it, and continue to attend at least once a year even as the fest has shrunk. (Those who may care can see my Taste recaps from 2013 and 2012.)

It's not just that I love to eat, and while I don't mind the crowds--unless suffocatingly large on a crazy hot day--I am not primarily drawn by a sense of civic participation, nor communal partying.

As this blog should attest, and particularly my series on "Sethnic dining excursions"--a.k.a. the Chicago Dining World Tour--I love to explore. Creatively, culturally and, yes, gastronically. And the Taste of Chicago has always enabled me to sample foods and restaurants that are new or rare for me.

I tell you this because I trace my fondness for Puerto Rican food--which I recently enjoyed again at the erstwhile Cafe Central on Chicago Ave.--directly to the Taste.

A few years ago, probably no more than 5, I got one of the best and most unique items I've ever had at the Taste: a jibarito from Sabor Latino.

Though various stuffings are available, and I now know the jibarito is common to  multiple cultures--I had a good one at the Taste of Cuba restaurant early this year--that first "Taste" was of a Puerto Rican steak sandwich on fried green plantains instead of bread. There was also some kind of garlic sauce which made it even more awesome.

So in the intervening years, I've sought out a jibarito multiple times at a Puerto Rican place in Humboldt Park called Borinquen. And I was also taken to Cafe Central once by my friend Paolo. 

But it had been a good while since I had Puerto Rican food; hence a return visit to Cafe Central was quite welcome.

Dating back to 1952, and 1968 at its current location, Cafe Central has about as nondescript an exterior as a restaurant can have. And the interior isn't exactly fancy. But if you're looking for good food at good prices, Cafe Central is rather maravilloso.

For a beverage, I ordered mango juice and--as a big fan of plantains, fried and/or sweet--for an appetizer (just $1.90!) I was intrigued by something called a Pionono = fried sweet plantain fritter stuffed with ground beef.

It was really delicious.

I  easily could've ordered another one and had it suffice for my dinner. But I didn't because I was eager to order a jibarito, which the menu essentially describes as a sandwich served on green plantains with lettuce, tomato, onion and mayonnaise.

Although I imagine Cafe Central's steak jibarito is delicious--it's possible I've had one there--I chose a Roast Pork Jibarito, which is only available Thursday-Sunday.

This too was delicious--it came with cheese mixed in with the pork--as was the yellow rice with pigeon peas I ordered as a side dish.

The menu at Cafe Central goes far beyond jibaritos--a vegetarian version is always available--and other sandwiches.

Selections include omelettes, specialty rice dishes, specialty salads, creoles, mixtas (seemingly rice, beans and meat), seafood and a few "house specialties" (chicken, pork chops, loin & breaded steak), with a number of choices in each category.

Between the pionono, jibarito and rice, I was plenty full and satisfied, but in the name of, um, cultural culinary research, I felt compelled to order dessert.

I am not a huge fan of the consistency of flan, but I ordered a Vanilla Flan and happily consumed it all.

All told, it was a terrifically fulfilling, quite economical meal for which I'm running out of adjectives to look up in Spanish on Google translate.

As with many of the places I've enjoyed my gastro-ethnic expeditions, Cafe Central is a restaurant I certainly wish to return to again.

And if you're interested of tasty Puerto Rican food with little pretense and little expense, as I'll lyrically conclude this (near) west side story... "somewhere there's a place for us."

Saxman Redman Again Proves to be Quite Good, Man -- Chicago Jazz Review

Jazz Review

Joshua Redman Quartet
Symphony Center, Chicago
November 22, Chicago
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Vacant of much astute analysis, the extent of this review essentially consists of me saying: I liked what I heard.

I can't tell you in any knowledgeable way what makes Joshua Redman such a fine saxophone player. He just sounds fluid in everything he plays, with impressive power and speed when applicable. (I should note that a well-played sax is one of my favorite sounds in the world.)

I can't tell you in technical terms any of the skills his quartet--rounded out by Aaron Goldberg on piano, Reuben Rogers on bass and Gregory Hutchinson on drums--showcased Friday night at Symphony Center. (I appreciated how Redman, in his stage remarks at a venue he's now played 9 times, expressed confusion over whether the name is Orchestra Hall, Symphony Hall or Symphony Center; I likewise never am sure.)

I know several of the songs played were Redman compositions from his latest album, Walking Shadows--because he announced them as such--but I really couldn't tell you their names.

I can't even remember when, where and how I came to know Redman, the son of a sax great named Dewey Redman, with whom I wasn't familiar. The first time I saw him, at the same classic venue, was in 2008, when he was accompanied by Branford Marsalis.

Photo credit: Arne Reimer

I've also seen him at the Old Town School of Folk Music and again at Symphony Center with a quartet called James Farm.

This time the performance was billed as the Joshua Redman Quartet.

The concert started at 8pm with a half-hour opening set from pianist Muhal Richard Abrams. Although to call it a set sounds a bit odd because he seemingly played the same piece--or perhaps just free form piano--for 30 minutes straight.

I hadn't heard of Abrams, but the program bio intimates considerable renown. His playing was certainly impressive, but I can't confess to being truly captivated. Regardless, it was a fine way to start the night. (I had bought a $28 gallery seat just 20 minutes before showtime.)

Walking Shadows is described as an album of ballads and though the Redman Quartet came onstage together, Joshua opened with some subtle playing accompanied only by pianist Goldberg. This sounded nice, but as I prefer my jazz fast and loud--as with most musical forms, especially those with which I only dabble as a fan--things really got great when Hutchinson kicked in on drums and Rogers on bass.

Affable and gracious, Redman said he thinks of Symphony Center/Orchestra Hall as "the largest jazz club in the world," and the respectable-but-not-full crowd repeatedly showered him and his mates with appreciation.

Though he announced each piece played, either before or after, I didn't note most of the titles, just that most were original compositions, several from the new album. I was surprised when he said one was by rock band Blonde Redhead (not that I'm familiar with their music), called "Doll Is Mine."

He later performed a high-velocity piece I believe he called "DGAF," which really allowed the quartet to show off their impressive dexterity, with drummer Hutchinson being particularly impressive along with Redman.

The performance ended around 10:15 with a well-deserved encore, and though I can't provide much acute explanation as to why, I found the entire show to be quite satisfying. Sometimes you just like what you hear, and with Joshua Redman I always have.

The Chicago Dining World Tour: Even If It May Not Be All That Authentic, Brazilian Steakhouse Makes the Cut

Fogo de Chão
Brazilian
661 N Lasalle Blvd, Chicago
312.932.9330
Website

What I ate: Meat, lots of it, of various kinds

I have yet to visit Brazil--or anywhere in South or Central America--so I can't speak intelligently to the authenticity, or lack thereof, of a place like Fogo de Chao.

Though I'm aware that there are several Churrascarias in Brazil--including 6 Fogo de Chao locations--my assumption is that the Americanized versions are considerably bigger...and pricier.

Fogo de Chao employs skilled "passadores"--meat waiters/slicers--who are dressed seemingly in Brazilian garb. Yet even if modeled after a dining concept native to Brazil, unlike other excursions on my Chicago Dining World Tour, this one wasn't accompanied by ready imagination that I was somewhere else around the globe.

But it was delicious and satisfying nonetheless.

My friend Dave and I arrived at Fogo de Chao's River North location--there's also one in Rosemont--around 6:30 on a Sunday, having made reservations.

Dave had eaten there before, but though I've twice been to a similar yet now extinct churrascaria--Sal & Carvao--that was likely at least a decade ago and I hadn't ever been to Fogo de Chao. (Fogo de Chao is a chain with locations across the U.S. and in Brazil. Two presumably similar churrascarias in Chicago are Brazzaz and Texas de Brazil.)

While I couldn't help but be impressed by the salad bar, and did try a few small bites from it, I wasn't paying $51.50 to get filled up on lettuce.

Besides the cuts of meat--they promote "15" but it seemed a few short--diners are brought complimentary side dishes including mashed potatoes, caramelized bananas and cheese bread.

 Of course, these are all starchy and designed to limit one's gorging on the cuts of meat, but after awhile I was glad to have something different interspersed among all the red meat.

Click here to see the full lineup of meat served at Fogo de Chao, but Dave and I tried most of what the passadores brought around...and nothing disappointed.

A few cuts that really stood out for me were the garlic-flavored Picanha--a house specialty Prime Sirloin--the Rib Eye and some Filet Mignon, including pieces wrapped in bacon.

The way service at Fogo de Chao works is that each diner has a Stop-or-Go disc that one turns over to indicate if the passadores should offer you cuts of meat or give you a respite.

Each passadore has a different type of meat which he--seemingly universally, as I saw no female servers--slices off a skewer right in front of you. Unless you flip your "chow down/hold up" card to stop service, the passadores come by pretty rapid fire.

Thinking about it afterward, I should have regulated my intake valve a bit better.

Basically, with the switch turned on, I accepted every cut offered--except chicken; I'm allergic--and early on had about 6 different cuts of meat on my plate simultaneously.

I probably should have spread these out a bit more, as though both Dave and I estimated that we ate at least the equivalent of a similarly-priced steak at Gibson's, Morton's or any top chophouse, I felt that I got full a touch too soon.

Not a huge deal, as I liked what I ate--as did Dave--and likely wouldn't have consumed much more if I
allowed the cuts to arrive with a bit more stagger.

And as I staggered out the door--well-stuffed, without any thought of ordering dessert--even if I didn't have a sense of having just eaten in Brazil, I was heartily delighted with my Meatapalooza festival at Fogo de Chao.

'Wicked' Still Defies Gravity as It Continues to Enchant -- Chicago Theater Review

Theater Review

Wicked
Oriental Theater, Chicago
Thru December 21
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This was the 7th time I've seen Wicked, but the first in 5 years (all the others were within the first 5 years of the show's existence, from 2003-2008).

My strongest recollection is still of the first time I saw the show, on Broadway with original cast members Idina Menzel, Kristin Chenoweth, Norbert Leo Butz and Joel Grey, but I loved it each time I saw it during its long, "sit down" Chicago run.

And though it's now been long enough not to remember how specifics compare, in terms of vocal timbres or production values, I still find Wicked to be an outstanding show.

It isn't my favorite musical of the 21st century--The Producers, Hairspray and the show that beat it out for the 2004 Tony, Avenue Q, outrank it--and the touring production once again filling the Oriental Theatre wasn't quite pristine.

Although I was thrilled to walk up to the box office at 6:30 and be sold an $82 ticket for just $40--Row N of the Orchestra, Center--the sound seemed a little soft. Unless amplified differently to my usual balcony perch, I imagined having a tough time adequately hearing the singing if I had sat up there.

Photo credits: Joan Marcus

But despite lacking a bit of the visceral power and punch I expected from such a close vantage point, Wicked nonetheless once again satisfied in all ways that matter.

The leads--Broadway vet Jenn Gambatese as Glinda, youthful Alison Luff as Elphaba--were well-paired and well-sung. 

The other key roles were all well-handled by an Equity cast, and those of us old enough to recall John Davidson from his TV days got a kick out of seeing him playing the Wizard. (I even dropped money into a bucket Davidson held post-show for Equity Cares/Broadway Fights AIDS.)

Even without much exposure over the past 5 years, Stephen Schwartz' tuneful score remains a delight, with a great mix of the wistful--"The Wizard and I," "I'm Not That Girl," "For Good"--and the ebullient and/or impassioned--"Popular," "Thank Goodness," "One Short Day," "Defying Gravity."

In Chicago for just another month--it seems it could stay much longer based on demand--Wicked is selling quite well, so tickets may be tough and/or pricey (though it never hurts to ask for ad hoc discounts at the box office like I did).

But it remains one of the best touring musicals you can see--its success helps it employ a top-notch Equity cast--and if you've never seen it (or even if you have) you really should.

To borrow a lyric from another wonderful musical, seeing Wicked--as evidenced by the standing ovation at the end--should, 10 years after its Broadway bow, make for some enchanted evening.

Groovin' with the Rascals in 'Once Upon a Dream' -- Chicago Theater Review

Theater Review

Once Upon a Dream starring The Rascals

Cadillac Palace Theatre, Chicago

Thru November 10 (run ended)

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If you asked me a year ago to name bands I would most want to see reunite (of those with a majority of original/main members still able to do so), I could give you a healthy list--Led Zeppelin, Talking Heads, the Kinks, the Jam, the Smiths, Husker Du, Midnight Oil, the original Guns 'N Roses, the Replacements (who actually did this year!) and more--before I ever would have mentioned the Rascals.

But in the words of Steven Van Zandt, as printed in the Playbill for Once Upon a Dream:

"The opportunity to reunite the Rascals has been a lifelong dream of mine. They were the first band I ever saw, and their influence on me and my generation set standards we are still trying to meet."

Such is my regard for Van Zandt--who I'd revere just for being the guitarist in the E Street Band, but whose legacy as an activist, actor, music historian, radio programmer and much more looms just as large--that I made it a point to learn about the Rascals. Sure I knew "Good Lovin'" and a few other golden oldies from the 60s, but I'd be lying to say I didn't lump the Rascals in with the Lovin' Spoonful and Turtles and Paul Revere & the Raiders and various other American bands of the Sixties who I never considered on par with their British Invasion counterparts.

I now realize that was a bit of an oversight on my part, but though I've enjoyed my crash course in the Rascals and their reunion that resulted in Once Upon a Dream, which ran last week in Chicago--sorry I didn't have time to write this earlier, but it really shouldn't have swayed anyone one way or the other--I still can't say I like the Rascals as much as CCR or the Beach Boys, let alone the Beatles, Stones, Who, Kinks, Zombies, etc.

I now consider their legacy akin to the Four Seasons, another four-member band that--like Van Zandt--hailed from New Jersey. Their mega-successful biographical musical, Jersey Boys, must loom somewhere behind the creation of Once Upon a Dream.

But to Van Zandt's credit, this is a different show, which because it features the original Rascals--Felix Cavaliere, Eddie Brigati, Dino Danelli and Gene Cornish--playing and singing live on stage, works better as a concert experience than Jersey Boys. Though not nearly as good a theatrical experience.

Essentially, Once Upon a Dream is like seeing a documentary--or rockumentary, as others have called it--enacted in front of your eyes.

The Rascals sounded good playing several classics--28 songs in all, according to a Van Zandt interview; the songs aren't listed in the program--but the backstory was provided entirely through filmed recollections (by Felix, Eddie, Dino and Gene) and re-enactments (by actors playing the bandmates as their younger, hotter and cooler selves).

I appreciate what Little Steven was going for in this hybrid concert/theater/film creation, and it was not only fun to hear gems such as "Good Lovin'," "Groovin'," "I Ain't Gonna Eat Out My Heart Anymore," "I've Been Lonely Too Long," "A Beautiful Morning" and "People Got to Be Free," performed live, but the videotaped parts--narrated by Van Zandt's Sopranos chum Vincent Pastore--were also entertaining.

So though the Rascals have now left Chicago, if you're a fan and can catch this show somewhere
convenient, there's no reason not to.

But at 2-1/2 hours, it had about 30 minutes more Rascals music than I needed, and some of the biography presented on big video screens had me confused. I felt a bit more time could've been devoted to depicting what the Rascals were like when they were young, and what caused them to connect with Van Zandt and others.

Steven might do well to provide his recollections on camera, for his underlying fandom gives this show--and even this band--considerable resonance in 2013.

For even though this wasn't quite once upon my own dream coming true, it was enjoyable to see Van Zandt's labor of love and--even 45 years paunchier than their peak--to see and hear the original Rascals, live on stage.