I talk about The House Theatre on here about as much as I talk about Van Morrison or Neil Gaiman. One of my many obsessions, I suppose.
Anyway, this is a teaser for The House's current production of Rose and the Rime. They've always been very cinematic with their theatrical endeavors, and this clip gives a pretty clear picture of what The House does well. Atmosphere, excitement, mystery. Show just got extended for another four weeks, which is great to hear, especially since the economy's beating up the theatre industry like one of them dudes in Every Which Way But Loose.
If you search around you'll find plenty of other House stuff on You Tube or other places. I suggest checking it out.
Showing posts with label House Theatre of Chicago. Show all posts
Showing posts with label House Theatre of Chicago. Show all posts
Thursday, April 02, 2009
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Winter Tales
The Seafarer
Written by Conor McPherson
Performed by the Steppenwolf Theatre Company
There's this play, called The Weir, that I've hung onto for many years. Always wanted to stage it with some of the older, trusted members of the company, but I've never been able to pull the trigger. People in their early twenties playing roles that should be portrayed by people with more weight, more age, more heartbreak and regret. There's some things you just can't fake with lights and makeup.
The Weir was written by Conor McPherson, an Irish playwright, about my age. A few people sit around a pub in Sligo and tell ghost stories. But they really talk about themselves, only I don't know if they realize it.
He wrote another play called The Seafarer, and I saw Steppenwolf put it on last month. Like The Weir, it deals with older men, drinking, and a bit of the supernatural. Instead of fairies or ghosts knocking on the door, the Devil himself comes to visit poor, wrecked Sharkey.
Being a fan of the man's work, I was very excited to see the play. Chris Jones, of the Tribune, whetted my appetite even more with this piece he wrote about it, and which I mentioned in an earlier blog post. Wound up with box seats for twenty bucks and took the wonderful Mrs. Reader to see the show.
It's a fantastically written show, involving a clutch of middle-aged Irish drunks clinging to each other on a lonely, desperate Christmas Eve. And of course Lucifer gets involved, but I won't go into it too much, lest I spoil the events for you.
Everything about the show was great, except for one thing, that got to both myself and Mrs. Reader: The accents. They just couldn't do the accents right. These were Chicaaaaaaago men playing Dubliners, and they slipped in and out of the cadences with alarming irregularity.
Liked seeing Chicago, Midwestern faces do this play, as it reminded me of some of the sad old drunks that haunted the local bars I used to frequent, but I still feel like I haven't seen a true adaptation of this play. This felt like a great local band covering a killer song by an Irish group. Would like to see Irish actors do this one.
Rose and the Rime
Written by Nathan Allen, Jake Minton, and Chris Matthews
Performed by the House Theatre of Chicago
Most of you know that I am a huge fan of The House. I've been lucky enough to work with them in a few workshops, and while I may not be able to call some of them friends, I can at least call them professional acquaintances.
I did this workshop with Maria and Carolyn a couple of years ago, where we met once a week in the basement of the Old Town School of Folk Music, and we talked story and worked on creating an original bit of theatre.
Cori and I were the only ones who showed up every week. There were a couple of others that came and went, but for the most part, it was just the four of us that met week after week. The frequent absences affected our end product, which was just a short scene, largely wordless, focusing on a young girl and a funeral and a burned out town.
One of the things we did talk a lot about was Joseph Campbell and the hero myths, and an interesting variation on the Hero's Journey that they liked to work with. Instead of the hero returning victorious to his town and Living Happily Ever After, they liked to focus on What Happened Next? Usually, it involved the Hero becoming the Dragon or the Evil Witch in the end.
While that workshop didn't really develop into much other than a great time had by all, it fed the fires that eventually led me to write Heroes and Villains, which tried to deconstruct that whole Campbell-myth-hero-thing a bit.
It also, in a way, led to Rose and the Rime, the House's latest production.
The House has tinkered with this story archetype for a long time, but never until now have they embraced it as completely as they have with this show. You have a hero, in young Rose, trapped in wintry Radio Falls with the rest of her town, until she decides to hunt down the evil witch that has imprisoned them in an eternal winter.
Later there is victory, and hot dogs and neon clothing and much beach blanket bingoing. And heroic Rose becomes something different, in the end. All of this has happened before, and all of it will happen again. (Something I played with when I did Julius Caesar a couple of years ago, another show affected by that workshop.)
A largely wordless show, focused on the House's incredible ability to wring excellent theatre out of the simplest of things. You wouldn't think it possible to stage Rose's dramatic journey through the ice and mountains and caverns on a stage, but House knows how to do that shit.
In the end, though, I'm a bit frustrated with the show, because I feel like it skirted around the story when it should have dove in. None of the characters move beyond basic archetypes, something The Sparrow suffered from a bit as well. I know they're going for the whole Fairy Tale thing with Rose, but when it only clocks in at 80 minutes with no intermission, I can't help but feel they could have dug deeper.
House has made its name on these types of shows, the archetypal comic book mythological westerns superheroes rocket (and cave) men magicians rock stars and boy detectives stories. I love those stories, but they only get you so far.
What House does is awesome, but it's time for them to put away that college-level enthusiasm about Joseph Campbell and High Myth, and start embracing the next phase of life, and storytelling. They're all about to turn 30 this year, and I think it would be good for them to start looking at the world in a more mature, complicated way.
I haven't done The Weir because I don't have the right actors for it, and The House limits itself by relying on the same group of twenty-something actors playing the full range of the ages of man. It's time to put awaychildish* things, and to start getting serious.
*Self-conscious, late-in-the-game "wow-people-actually-read-this-thing" edit: I think this word's a bit strong, actually. Childlike might be better? Maybe. Archetypal? Archetypal can be good storytelling, but it can't be the only storytelling.
Written by Conor McPherson
Performed by the Steppenwolf Theatre Company
There's this play, called The Weir, that I've hung onto for many years. Always wanted to stage it with some of the older, trusted members of the company, but I've never been able to pull the trigger. People in their early twenties playing roles that should be portrayed by people with more weight, more age, more heartbreak and regret. There's some things you just can't fake with lights and makeup.
The Weir was written by Conor McPherson, an Irish playwright, about my age. A few people sit around a pub in Sligo and tell ghost stories. But they really talk about themselves, only I don't know if they realize it.
He wrote another play called The Seafarer, and I saw Steppenwolf put it on last month. Like The Weir, it deals with older men, drinking, and a bit of the supernatural. Instead of fairies or ghosts knocking on the door, the Devil himself comes to visit poor, wrecked Sharkey.
Being a fan of the man's work, I was very excited to see the play. Chris Jones, of the Tribune, whetted my appetite even more with this piece he wrote about it, and which I mentioned in an earlier blog post. Wound up with box seats for twenty bucks and took the wonderful Mrs. Reader to see the show.
It's a fantastically written show, involving a clutch of middle-aged Irish drunks clinging to each other on a lonely, desperate Christmas Eve. And of course Lucifer gets involved, but I won't go into it too much, lest I spoil the events for you.
Everything about the show was great, except for one thing, that got to both myself and Mrs. Reader: The accents. They just couldn't do the accents right. These were Chicaaaaaaago men playing Dubliners, and they slipped in and out of the cadences with alarming irregularity.
Liked seeing Chicago, Midwestern faces do this play, as it reminded me of some of the sad old drunks that haunted the local bars I used to frequent, but I still feel like I haven't seen a true adaptation of this play. This felt like a great local band covering a killer song by an Irish group. Would like to see Irish actors do this one.
Rose and the Rime
Written by Nathan Allen, Jake Minton, and Chris Matthews
Performed by the House Theatre of Chicago
Most of you know that I am a huge fan of The House. I've been lucky enough to work with them in a few workshops, and while I may not be able to call some of them friends, I can at least call them professional acquaintances.
I did this workshop with Maria and Carolyn a couple of years ago, where we met once a week in the basement of the Old Town School of Folk Music, and we talked story and worked on creating an original bit of theatre.
Cori and I were the only ones who showed up every week. There were a couple of others that came and went, but for the most part, it was just the four of us that met week after week. The frequent absences affected our end product, which was just a short scene, largely wordless, focusing on a young girl and a funeral and a burned out town.
One of the things we did talk a lot about was Joseph Campbell and the hero myths, and an interesting variation on the Hero's Journey that they liked to work with. Instead of the hero returning victorious to his town and Living Happily Ever After, they liked to focus on What Happened Next? Usually, it involved the Hero becoming the Dragon or the Evil Witch in the end.
While that workshop didn't really develop into much other than a great time had by all, it fed the fires that eventually led me to write Heroes and Villains, which tried to deconstruct that whole Campbell-myth-hero-thing a bit.
It also, in a way, led to Rose and the Rime, the House's latest production.
The House has tinkered with this story archetype for a long time, but never until now have they embraced it as completely as they have with this show. You have a hero, in young Rose, trapped in wintry Radio Falls with the rest of her town, until she decides to hunt down the evil witch that has imprisoned them in an eternal winter.
Later there is victory, and hot dogs and neon clothing and much beach blanket bingoing. And heroic Rose becomes something different, in the end. All of this has happened before, and all of it will happen again. (Something I played with when I did Julius Caesar a couple of years ago, another show affected by that workshop.)
A largely wordless show, focused on the House's incredible ability to wring excellent theatre out of the simplest of things. You wouldn't think it possible to stage Rose's dramatic journey through the ice and mountains and caverns on a stage, but House knows how to do that shit.
In the end, though, I'm a bit frustrated with the show, because I feel like it skirted around the story when it should have dove in. None of the characters move beyond basic archetypes, something The Sparrow suffered from a bit as well. I know they're going for the whole Fairy Tale thing with Rose, but when it only clocks in at 80 minutes with no intermission, I can't help but feel they could have dug deeper.
House has made its name on these types of shows, the archetypal comic book mythological westerns superheroes rocket (and cave) men magicians rock stars and boy detectives stories. I love those stories, but they only get you so far.
What House does is awesome, but it's time for them to put away that college-level enthusiasm about Joseph Campbell and High Myth, and start embracing the next phase of life, and storytelling. They're all about to turn 30 this year, and I think it would be good for them to start looking at the world in a more mature, complicated way.
I haven't done The Weir because I don't have the right actors for it, and The House limits itself by relying on the same group of twenty-something actors playing the full range of the ages of man. It's time to put away
*Self-conscious, late-in-the-game "wow-people-actually-read-this-thing" edit: I think this word's a bit strong, actually. Childlike might be better? Maybe. Archetypal? Archetypal can be good storytelling, but it can't be the only storytelling.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Dave DaVinci and other Theatrical Endeavors
The House Theatre went back and redid some things with their 2005 show Dave DaVinci Saves the Universe, and it's now the opener of their three-show season. They just moved into a new space at The Chopin Theatre in Wicker Park, have a larger budget, and seem to have moved into a more organized and professional phase of their theatrical life.
The show was great, although a bit more ambiguous this time 'round. I won't go into details, if by chance you, the reader, decide to go see it (you should.) But it deals with a scientist who creates a time machine and tries to go back and prevent the suicide of his teenage daughter. The show had a proper set this time (as opposed to the green foam minimalist-thing they had originally), a melancholy theme by Kevin O'Donnell, and a reworked supporting cast.
I have to give credit to a group who places their biggest star from their biggest show in a cosmic-bear suit for the first act of the show. You don't see that too often.
The day was also spent working on a future kids' show that another Limelight director and I are putting together. Sort of a workshop, sort of a show. Something to do with books, the ones that every generation reads when they're a kid. And something to do with that moment when you realize that your childhood is about to come to an end, or at least a version of it.
We'd had trouble coming up with much in the way of a story (we wanted this to be a fairly original work), and tried to find inspiration here and there, but nothing was clicking. But as we were wandering the aisles of the kids' lit section of the Borders on Michigan Ave., I had an idea.
Of course I'm not going to tell you my idea, as it's still rough, and is probably too influenced by other stories right now. I will say this: it involves Nancy Drew and Christopher Robin in a meta-mystery kind of way.
I told myself I was going to take a break from writing for a while, but this could be fun. To be continued...
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Looking Ahead
I'm currently in Week Three of a chest infection, which hasn't slowed me down too much. Didn't want to take a sick day during the first weeks of school, and so I've been lumbering around like Val Kilmer in Tombstone, doing my best Doc Holliday impression. (Damn, that guy was the same age as me when he died.)
The students don't really get it when you hack up phlegm and say things like "Johnny Tyler! The madcap!" or "Frederich fucking Chopin." Okay, I didn't really say any of that. I have been in line to win the Douche Bag of the Year award for busting out a lame Dr. Evil impression, only because one of our vocabulary words was "magma," and it was really their fault, since one of them started it. But yeah, that's probably the real reason I teach fifth grade: a place to do painfully-outdated impressions of worn-out phrases.
But anyway, the next couple of weeks should be good: a new(ish) show by The House Theatre; The Graveyard Book comes out on the 30th; and I'll be attending a reading by Gaiman himself at the Tivoli Theatre in Downers Grove on October 2nd. They're playing Stardust afterwards.
I'm a huge fan of Gaiman, but the movie adaptation of Stardust kind of blew. Massively. So we'll see if I stick around for that.
And then after that, one, possibly two weekend road trips. More to come on that later...
The students don't really get it when you hack up phlegm and say things like "Johnny Tyler! The madcap!" or "Frederich fucking Chopin." Okay, I didn't really say any of that. I have been in line to win the Douche Bag of the Year award for busting out a lame Dr. Evil impression, only because one of our vocabulary words was "magma," and it was really their fault, since one of them started it. But yeah, that's probably the real reason I teach fifth grade: a place to do painfully-outdated impressions of worn-out phrases.
But anyway, the next couple of weeks should be good: a new(ish) show by The House Theatre; The Graveyard Book comes out on the 30th; and I'll be attending a reading by Gaiman himself at the Tivoli Theatre in Downers Grove on October 2nd. They're playing Stardust afterwards.
I'm a huge fan of Gaiman, but the movie adaptation of Stardust kind of blew. Massively. So we'll see if I stick around for that.
And then after that, one, possibly two weekend road trips. More to come on that later...
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Kristine in L.A. or the Magnificent House Theatre?
Well, I've had quite the little day.
After several weeks of waking up way too damn early (because my head seems to want to wake up around 5 and just stew about the day), I slept blissfully late into the day. The house was cold, due to autumn finally arriving, and I slipped on a pair of woolen socks, put on my bathrobe, made a pot of coffee, and dug out something decent to read. (The Rebels of Ireland, finally.)
After a quick breakfast of egg and muffin (the English variety), I packed a bag and headed to my nearby sanctuary of trees and trails, and wandered for a while, letting ideas flow through my head, and occasionally stopping to write down the occasional brilliant idea for The Play.
All the while I pondered two possibilities: shall I head out to Los Angeles to hang out with the divine Kristine, on extended sabbatical from The Philippines? We have an eerily similar sense of taste, and could probably hang out for hours talking about Jeff Tweedy and Neil Gaiman. Perhaps at The Viper Room. It is Los Angeles, after all.
I wonder what Tony's doing?
My other possibility was attending a special screening of The Darjeeling Limited, where I'd get the chance to Q&A Wes Anderson and Jason Schwartzman. I knew I sill read that damn AintitCoolNews for a reason.
I won two tickets for the screening, by the way. Anyone want to go?
After searching ticket prices for CHI to LAX, I realized that I already had tickets for closing night of The Magnificents that weekend, which is kind of a big deal. Last House show at The Viaduct, you know.
So now I'm kind of fucked. For once in my life I have too much going on.
Perhaps I could go the previous weekend. It would involve blowing off two events, though: the dedication ceremony for my newly-built school, and my mother's birthday.
More on all of these events as they happen.
Oh, by the way: the Duders, Eric and Erica, had a beautiful baby girl last week. Life is wonderful.
After several weeks of waking up way too damn early (because my head seems to want to wake up around 5 and just stew about the day), I slept blissfully late into the day. The house was cold, due to autumn finally arriving, and I slipped on a pair of woolen socks, put on my bathrobe, made a pot of coffee, and dug out something decent to read. (The Rebels of Ireland, finally.)
After a quick breakfast of egg and muffin (the English variety), I packed a bag and headed to my nearby sanctuary of trees and trails, and wandered for a while, letting ideas flow through my head, and occasionally stopping to write down the occasional brilliant idea for The Play.
All the while I pondered two possibilities: shall I head out to Los Angeles to hang out with the divine Kristine, on extended sabbatical from The Philippines? We have an eerily similar sense of taste, and could probably hang out for hours talking about Jeff Tweedy and Neil Gaiman. Perhaps at The Viper Room. It is Los Angeles, after all.
I wonder what Tony's doing?
My other possibility was attending a special screening of The Darjeeling Limited, where I'd get the chance to Q&A Wes Anderson and Jason Schwartzman. I knew I sill read that damn AintitCoolNews for a reason.
I won two tickets for the screening, by the way. Anyone want to go?
After searching ticket prices for CHI to LAX, I realized that I already had tickets for closing night of The Magnificents that weekend, which is kind of a big deal. Last House show at The Viaduct, you know.
So now I'm kind of fucked. For once in my life I have too much going on.
Perhaps I could go the previous weekend. It would involve blowing off two events, though: the dedication ceremony for my newly-built school, and my mother's birthday.
More on all of these events as they happen.
Oh, by the way: the Duders, Eric and Erica, had a beautiful baby girl last week. Life is wonderful.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
$2 Guinness
Pulled some ham steaks out of the freezer that had been in there far too long, and after perusing through the cupboards, found nothing interesting to eat. Hadn't I just gone to the new fresh market store with all the produce and vegetables and tasty red wine?
Man cannot live on pears and mushrooms and vino alone, so I decided to head down to the pub and drink $2 Guinness and watch the Cub game for a bit.
I have a local pub. It's the only decent bar within my corner of the suburban retail sprawl I dwell in, unless you like to hang out in the bar area of TGI Friday's or enjoy spending your Friday evenings in the mega-bars that surround me.
Okay, that's what I actually did Friday, but I prefer the smaller, independent places. Like Paulie's up the road. Decent place. Good burgers.
That story doesn't really go anywhere, so let's move on.
I'm busy right now. New job's going well, but man there's a lot of paperwork. You know how police detectives always talk about how most of the job is sitting at the desk filling out forms? That seems to be a lot of what I do now, when I'm not teaching. Lots and lots of forms.
Also trying to put some different things together for Limelight, in my spare time. A few decent things lined up, if I can convince the kids that a collaborative workshop with The House Theatre is something they need to do.
Lots going on, not much time to write, or read other blogs properly. And no time for outside, or trees, or quiet forest paths. Or a long car trip. I could really use some of that right now.
So. Right. Much to do. Back when I'm able.
Man cannot live on pears and mushrooms and vino alone, so I decided to head down to the pub and drink $2 Guinness and watch the Cub game for a bit.
I have a local pub. It's the only decent bar within my corner of the suburban retail sprawl I dwell in, unless you like to hang out in the bar area of TGI Friday's or enjoy spending your Friday evenings in the mega-bars that surround me.
Okay, that's what I actually did Friday, but I prefer the smaller, independent places. Like Paulie's up the road. Decent place. Good burgers.
That story doesn't really go anywhere, so let's move on.
I'm busy right now. New job's going well, but man there's a lot of paperwork. You know how police detectives always talk about how most of the job is sitting at the desk filling out forms? That seems to be a lot of what I do now, when I'm not teaching. Lots and lots of forms.
Also trying to put some different things together for Limelight, in my spare time. A few decent things lined up, if I can convince the kids that a collaborative workshop with The House Theatre is something they need to do.
Lots going on, not much time to write, or read other blogs properly. And no time for outside, or trees, or quiet forest paths. Or a long car trip. I could really use some of that right now.
So. Right. Much to do. Back when I'm able.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Thursday, May 03, 2007
Pop Theatre
Anyone out there looking to join me in an 8-week theatre workshop taught by members of The House Theatre? Anyone willing to sign up within the next 24 hours? It'll change your life, I swear to Thespis. These guys are the real deal.
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
The Great and Terrible Wizard of Oz
In addition to catching The Pogues on Monday, I must say a few short words about a show I saw last Friday: The House Theatre's short revival of The Great and Terrible Wizard of Oz.
The House is my newest obsession, after seeing The Sparrow a few weeks back. In fact, Cori the roommate is also hooked, so she convinced some of her thespian friends to come see The House's original adaptation of the Oz story.
It's a tough, stripped-down adaptation of the Baum story, with darker elements and a greater sense of tragedy, with Dorothy cast as the unwilling Witchslayer, sent down a road of destiny she doesn't quite understand.
After the show I was talking with Phil Kapperich, the playwright who adapted this and the 2002 production of The Terrible Tragedy of Peter Pan, about why he's drawn to these iconic stories. There's such a danger in attempting to put your own stamp on such a well-worn story, but as he pointed out, there's something in them that made them great in the first place. There's a reason why we keep going back to them over and over again.
Anyway, their shows have so much cool shit going on, I can't recommmend them enough. If you live in the area, I highly recommend catching either the final performances of Oz this weekend, or catch The Sparrow, now extended through mid-April at Steppenwolf's Garage Theatre.
The House is my newest obsession, after seeing The Sparrow a few weeks back. In fact, Cori the roommate is also hooked, so she convinced some of her thespian friends to come see The House's original adaptation of the Oz story.
It's a tough, stripped-down adaptation of the Baum story, with darker elements and a greater sense of tragedy, with Dorothy cast as the unwilling Witchslayer, sent down a road of destiny she doesn't quite understand.
After the show I was talking with Phil Kapperich, the playwright who adapted this and the 2002 production of The Terrible Tragedy of Peter Pan, about why he's drawn to these iconic stories. There's such a danger in attempting to put your own stamp on such a well-worn story, but as he pointed out, there's something in them that made them great in the first place. There's a reason why we keep going back to them over and over again.
Anyway, their shows have so much cool shit going on, I can't recommmend them enough. If you live in the area, I highly recommend catching either the final performances of Oz this weekend, or catch The Sparrow, now extended through mid-April at Steppenwolf's Garage Theatre.
Monday, February 19, 2007
The Wooden Breeks
Snow's melting a bit today and I'm trying to get some work done so I can go out and play; maybe head over to the Arboretum and go for a walk, now that the temperature's gone up a bit.
President's Day, so I have a day off. Combined with last week's snow day, the shortened work weeks have been a much-needed break from a long six weeks or so. Lot of work, lots of strange moments, lots of irons on the fire, but that's good. It's work worth doing.
This is mostly a place-holder post, with nothing too exciting to report. Back in the city once again this weekend, saw The Wooden Breeks at Lookingglass. Disappointing play: hard to understand, too silly at times, no real clear idea of who the characters were supposed to be. Good acting, and great set design, but... meh. Just confirmed the greatness that was The Sparrow from The House.
Okay, time to go do some thinkin' about theatre. The summer season's a long ways away, but there's so much to do. Need to conceptualize The Tragedie of Julius Caesar, redesign a website, and come up with some advertising ideas.
Oh, and I got a decent tax return for the first time in my life, so I'm starting to think about travel plans again. Maybe I'll finally get over to the 'Dam and hang out with Bicyclemark and JaG. We could talk about evil governments and hot sex and Heroes. It would be awesome.
President's Day, so I have a day off. Combined with last week's snow day, the shortened work weeks have been a much-needed break from a long six weeks or so. Lot of work, lots of strange moments, lots of irons on the fire, but that's good. It's work worth doing.
This is mostly a place-holder post, with nothing too exciting to report. Back in the city once again this weekend, saw The Wooden Breeks at Lookingglass. Disappointing play: hard to understand, too silly at times, no real clear idea of who the characters were supposed to be. Good acting, and great set design, but... meh. Just confirmed the greatness that was The Sparrow from The House.
Okay, time to go do some thinkin' about theatre. The summer season's a long ways away, but there's so much to do. Need to conceptualize The Tragedie of Julius Caesar, redesign a website, and come up with some advertising ideas.
Oh, and I got a decent tax return for the first time in my life, so I'm starting to think about travel plans again. Maybe I'll finally get over to the 'Dam and hang out with Bicyclemark and JaG. We could talk about evil governments and hot sex and Heroes. It would be awesome.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
The Sparrow
Written by Chris Mathews, Jake Minton, and Nathan AllenDirected by Nathan Allen
Produced by The House Theatre of Chicago
The Sparrow centers around an accident, an accident involving a school bus and a train stop, an accident that happened years ago but has haunted a small Illinois town for a very long time.
A high school girl returns to the town, to the school, to be the only senior at that school. A dark, brooding girl by the name of Emily Book. A girl with secrets, a girl with special abilities.
Many of the characters are archetypal, familiar sketches from other stories: the blond cheerleader, the "cool" teacher, the upright Midwestern parents who take Emily into their home. And sometimes the story itself seems overly familiar: The Sweet Hereafter meets Heroes meets Carrie, only here the characters occasionally break into song and dance to a Postal Service-type electronic score.
About a third of the way in you pretty much know how everything is going to play out, how it's all going to end, but it doesn't matter, because watching the story get there is the best part. What makes The Sparrow so original, so joyful to watch at times is the way the tragic-yet-hopeful comic-book story mashes up so well with the sounds and the visions to create something youthful and daring and new.
The company of players behind the five-year old House Theatre seems to be somewhere in the transition between Generation X and Gen Y, where irony was left behind and sincerity became the new black. That same path where Kurt Cobain became Sufjan Stevens.No need for knowing winks at pop culture references or jaded commentary on society. In the show, high school is presented, for the most part, as a semi-positive place to be, where the small-town kids are decent to each other because, in the end, they know they're all in it together.
The House writes all their own stuff, with cheery titles like Dave DaVinci Saves the Universe, or they take fresh looks at those old archetypal classics like The Wizard of Oz. (I talked to them a while back about getting the rights to their original production The Terrible Tragedy of Peter Pan, and of course it wasn't available for production by anyone else.)
Before the show started the actors wandered in from backstage, in costume but not in character, chatting with friends or former teachers in the audience, reminding everyone that this is a shared experience, live theatre, and that all of us in the house that night, watching this story, were in it together.
The Sparrow has been extended until April 21st and will be presented at Steppenwolf's Garage Theatre. Go see it: I'd catch it again in a minute.
A 10-day run of The Great and Terrible Wizard of Oz will be presented at The Northlight Theatre in Skokie starting March 1st.
The House also has a Flickr site, featuring photos from past productions. No photos of The Sparrow are currently available, which kind of sucks.
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