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Last night we went to Navy Pier to see Amadeus at Chicago Shakespeare. It's pretty strange to sit in the audience there, five years after having worked there as a freelance electrician. It feels like some other lifetime that I was climbing ladders, lifting lights, and living that lifestyle. And yet five years is not really all that long of a time.

The show was very good, more humorous than I remembered it being (is it scary that I tried to spell "humorous" as in funny as "humerus" as in "the arm bone"?) . The acting was very good, and it brought up a lot more to think about than I had expected. Much more discussion of good and evil, and the role of God in human lives.

In other news, ehs has gotten trapped in two different labyrinth/journey books at once. He was reading "House of Leaves," but decided to start "Kafka on the Shore" before we saw it at Steppenwolf. Well, we saw it on Tuesday, so now he's partway through both of them. It's an interesting juxtaposition to make with those two, but what I mostly notice is that even still I can't discuss "House of Leaves" before bedtime without getting a cold shiver down my spine.

Donuts: Recommended

Last night we saw Superior Donuts at Steppenwolf. It's written by Tracy Letts, who recently won a Pulitzer and a Tony for his amazing show August: Osage County. I am impressed that this script feels as strong as that one. In it's funniest moments, I think it's funnier. Superior Donuts is set now in Chicago. It's filled with Chicago references, many were so current we got them, and many that only the older sections of the audience chuckled for. It felt like a hometown audience, we laughed at all the right places, and gasped together just where we were supposed to. The acting was superb and the story was engaging and moving.

And speaking of the acting, reading the program we realized that the main character was going to be played by Michael McKean. If you're like me and struggle with names, he's a staple in Christopher Guest movies, starting with playing the lead singer in This Is Spinal Tap. As ehs pointed out, some people may be more familiar with the 144 episodes of Lavernne and Shirley he was in. Either way, it was great to see him perform in person. The set is tiny, pushed right to the front of the stage. All the action is up close. You really catch the smaller moments this way, and in a lot of ways those are what this play is all about. The small choices that look big, and the power of place and memory.

If you're in Chicago, I would recommend trying to catch this production before it closes on August 24.

And last night, instead of dreaming about any of the play's themes or plotlines, I dreamt I made donuts. Boy were they delicious!

Cirque, 2

After the Cirque show was over, we started discussing our feelings about the show on the walk to the bus. It turned out that everyone else had spent at least a little time evaluating the performers for their date-ability. The choices were interesting, from the completely sequined and sparkly juggler, to the juggler's assistant who had no real demonstrated talents except dancing around, to the contortionists (all three).

But on a mental 5-minute date, it was discovered that at least the juggler wasn't a very good date. He turned out to only want to talk about himself.

I didn't see any of the performers that way. I think if I went on a date with any of them, I'd be tempted to spend the whole time lecturing them on the damage they are doing to their bodies, or asking about their personal training habits.

Cirque

On Friday we saw a new Cirque du Soleil show, Kooza, here in Chicago. It was pretty amazing, but let me just tell you, the ability to touch your head to your bottom is a fast recipe for having arthritis by the age of 25, in my opinion. Wow.

I think that part of the reason Cirque has really thrived is that it has so many elements of what originally made circuses so capitvating to audiences. The performers make really difficult things look easy, but you're also always aware of the fact that they are often in very real danger. Sure, a lot of it is controlled, and maybe there's some staged falls to get your adrenaline going. But even a safety wire doesn't make you that much safer. The audience holds its breath with hoping, and cheers more wildly the more danger it perceives for the performers.

When the guy in the stilts came out to do a back flip, I wanted not to watch. That and other times I felt too worried for their safety to really enjoy myself. Other times it just looked like so much fun. There are so many varieties of flying involved in a circus.

The audience favorite was near the end of the show. A comparatively small man, with very toned arms came out. Everyone started whispering, "Look, he's a life guard." He was wearing a white robe and was followed by a chair up on a platform that looked like one you'd see on the beach. There were more chairs (of the regular height) following him. He took off his robe and stood in basically a loin cloth. He was a strong man, holding his own body weight on his arms with no wobbling, shaking, or apparent difficulty. He did sweat a lot though. When he reached the first chair, he reached down for more. He began stacking and climbing the chairs, stopping every so often to show us more scary and impressive balancing acts. I have no idea how many chairs he finally stacked, maybe 8 or 10. The whole tent was so quiet and tense. There was no magic or surprise, the suspense was present in every move he made.

Accidental Tony Watching

So, I didn't intend to watch the Tony's last night, but I did after all. I forgot that what I like about the Tony's is seeing the musical performances that happen, always so much fun. And this year was especially exciting if you follow theater in Chicago. Chicago Shakespeare Theater won the Regional Theater Tony. And Steppenwolf's August: Osage County was up for 7 Tony's. They won quite a lot of them too (5), and I definitely felt very proud for them.

There were other great moments, one of the most impressive being the original cast of Rent all coming on stage and singing Seasons of Love together with the current cast. That was very impressive.

One of the things that seemed to confuse and impress the audience in the theater (and certainly me) was the acceptance speech by Mark Rylance, who won for Best Performance by a Leading Actor in a Play.

“When you are in town wearing some kind of a uniform is helpful, policeman, priest, etc. Driving a tank is very impressive, or a car with official lettering on the side. If that isn’t to your taste, you could join the revolution, wear an armband, carry a homemade flag tied to a broom handle, or a placard bearing an incendiary slogan. At the very least you should wear a suit and carry a briefcase and a cell phone, or wear a team jacket and a baseball cap and carry a cell phone. If you’re in the woods, the back country, someplace past all human habitation, it is a good idea to wear orange and carry a gun and, or, depending on the season, carry a fishing pole or a camera with a big lens. Otherwise…I will wrap it up now very quickly…otherwise it might appear that you have no idea what you are doing and you are merely wandering the earth, no particular reason for being here, no particular place to go. Thanks very much for this.”

It sounded off-the-cuff, it sounded rambling, and strange, and beautiful. And it turns out to be a prose poem by Minnesota Poet Lewis Jenkins (minus, clearly, the inserts based on time and thanks). It was certainly different, and held your attention. And was a little less scary than Patti LuPone yelling at the orchestra to not cut her off...

Right Up My Avenue

I feel a little late to the game, but we saw Avenue Q today (my first time). I expected to feel awkward and uncomfortable, and not laugh very much. Yeah yeah, so I'm a bit of a prude. But I actually found it hilarious. The music is great, the pacing and scenes are wonderful. Clearly someone was sitting around and said, "So what happens when all those people who lived on Sesame Street grew up and graduated from college?" Avenue Q is what happens. And the final message is Buddhist! Who'da thunk it? It turns out that the whole point is to live in the now, since that's all we have. There's only the present. Nothing lasts. Life is suffering. Ok, so they don't say that last part. They do say "Life is scary, but only temporary." Comedy, romance, and Buddhism, all rolled into one musical. Right up my alley.