PLAY REVIEW
JULY 8, 2006 (THROUGH AUG. 27)
STEPPENWOLF THEATRE, CHICAGO
Playwright Bruce Norris certainly knows how to push our buttons. The Norris play that the Steppenwolf premiered last year around this time, “The Pain and the Itch,” has really stuck in my mind. I think Norris may have pushed things too far with the use of child actresses in a play that discussed some disturbing topics including abuse. (The producers said the children were shielded from that, but it still made you feel queasy.) In any case, it was undeniably a work of disturbing power.
His new play, “The Unmentionables,” also disturbs. Without giving away too much, I’ll say that the audience eventually finds itself hearing some very unsettling offstage violence.
I was not entirely convinced by the reality of the play’s African setting (it’s one of those stories set in an anonymous country), but I think Norris got the essential details right, as far as the odd version multinational-corporate colonialism and corruption that seems to be endemic in Africa these days. (I’m no expert, but just watch the movie “Darwin’s Nightmare” for a real-life version of what Norris is referring to here…)
In these last two plays, Norris seems to be passing moral judgments on his characters, especially scorning white upper-class Americans. But he doesn’t cast good and evil in simple black-and-white terms. Just about everyone in this story, from the Christian do-gooders and the rich executives to the local black politicians, is compromised in some way by the end.
Amy Morton gives a brilliantly entertaining performance as the gabby Nancy – a character that initially seems a little too cartoony, but eventually comes to seem pretty real, even if she is ludicrous.
“The Unmentionables” is also notable for the way it breaks down the wall between the audience and the actors. Jon Hill, playing a young African man who comes under suspicion for crimes, abruptly begins the play by speaking directly the audience and warning that the play isn’t any good. He suggests going home to watch TV instead. The play ends with a similar monologue by Hill’s character, Etienne.
Is Norris trying to undercut the worth of his own play? Actually, these little monologues by Etienne reinforce one of the points that Norris seems to be making, that we need to listen to people like Etienne rather than lecturing them. So is “The Unmentionables” a lecture of the very sort Norris is criticizing … or a plea for an end to such lectures? That paradox may be part of Norris’ intentions.
In any case, I think “The Unmentionables” is another significant play by Norris, and one that’s well worth seeing.
DVD REVIEW
JULY 7, 2006
Spaghetti Westerns are one thing, but a lemonade Western ... filmed in Czech? This 1964 oddity by director Oldrich Lipsky, released recently on DVD by Chicago's Facets, is a precursor to "Blazing Saddles" – filmed on the other side of the Iron Curtain, but set in Stetson City, Ariz. The title character is a sickeningly wholesome sharpshooter and teetotaler who dresses all in white. Just as Popeye derives his strength from spinach, Joe claims that "Kolaloka" lemonade gives him the best aim and fastest draw in town. He's battling with the town's whisky-swigging crowd, who are led by a mysterious bad guy known as "Hogofogo." If that weren't strange enough, the film includes several songs that mimic the music from American cowboy movies, but with a distinctly Eastern European accent. It's all very silly, sometimes too much so, and at times, it gets downright surreal. Not a great film, but one that's worth seeing just for the sheer novelty
CONCERT REVIEW: WILCO and ANDREW BIRD
JULY 5, 2006
SUMMERFEST, MILWAUKEE
This was my first time at Milwaukee’s famous Summerfest. Seems like a nice festival, and they certainly book a lot more music than the typical summer fest. That means the festival invariably has some noteworthy acts, like this night’s double bill of Wilco and Andrew Bird, as well as a fair amount of shlock. How weird that Wilco was playing on one stage tonight, while Nickelback and Foreigner were playing elsewhere in the park.
And the band playing before Andrew Bird and Wilco was an incredibly annoying cover band called Sweet Tarts. Bad enough that I nearly ran from the venue with hands over my ears. Another band playing a short distance away, the Yonder Mountain String Band, would have been a much better fit with the Bird/Wilco lineup. These guys had a big audience dancing to their bluegrass picking, with a nice encore of “Goodbye Blue Sky.” (Now that “The Wall” has been covered in its entirety by Luther Wright & the Wrongs, is Pink Floyd becoming standard fodder for bluegrass bands? How odd.)
First, a note about the venue. While Summerfest is a fine place to hang out and get some beer and carnival food, it’s not exactly the smartest set up for watching a concert. The Miller Lite venue where Andrew Bird and Wilco were playing has long metal bleacher benches set up on the pavement in front of the stage, without any aisles – the only entrances being on either end of the long rows. That made it all but impossible to get close to the stage by the time I tried. And then everyone stood up on the benches as Bird started playing. I don’t know, but standing on a narrow metal bench isn’t my idea of how I want to spend a few hours during a concert, so I moved farther back. I found myself feeling a little misanthropic, an impulse I have to hold in check, as I was surrounded mostly by high school and college-age kids. Actually, it’s rather encouraging that young people are excited and interested in Wilco. I’ve heard a number of teens talk about Wilco as if it were some great musical secret they’d discovered. Still, when you’re standing in the middle of a bunch of teens, it starts to feel like being trapped at a prom, where the girls squeal and point at boys. Not my crowd, I guess…
I did eventually find some good vantage points, standing farther back and contenting myself to watch the concerts on the video screens.
Andrew Bird was as amazing as ever, creating some incredible pop symphonies with his looping pedals. He played a few new songs, which sounded pretty good on first listen – nothing seemed like a radical departure from the music on his last album, The Mysterious Production of Eggs. I always wonder how well Bird’s precious music (and I mean precious in the best sense of the term) will go over with a big festival crowd, but this audience seemed to be appreciative – and I heard a few people shouting out requests for specific songs, so he obviously has a growing fan base.
Wilco put on a good show, not the best Wilco concert I’ve ever seen by a long shot, but probably the right sort of performance for a place like Summerfest. Jeff Tweedy was pretty talkative, trying to get the crowd to chant the names of various band members at different points of the night. And the band offered up a good sample of songs from its last two albums, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot and A Ghost is Born, plus a few oldies. Two new songs were played. One of the them sounded just OK to me as Tweedy was singing the first part, but when Nels Cline’s guitar solo came in, the song really picked up. Tweedy mentioned another new song called “Let’s Fight,” which the group was not ready to play in concert yet; he jokingly suggested that this Summerfest audience should reassemble at another time to sing that song’s chorus like a soccer chant. We’d all have to join the musicians union, though, he pointed out. “Misunderstood” sounded great – I counted 56 calls of “Nothing!” this time. I wonder how fans would react if Wilco played this song and just did a couple of “Nothings”? In the final encore, “A Shot in the Arm” segued into the electronic notes of “Spiders (kidsmoke).” As usual, that song sounded fantastic, with the audience going wild whenever that descending chord progression kicks in.
CONCERT REVIEW: MY MORNING JACKET and RAY DAVIES
JULY 4, 2006
TASTE OF CHICAGO, GRANT PARK
Just another concert by the world’s greatest rock band… Well, at least, one of the greatest. Jim James and company were in fine form, with some nice song choices (stuff from At Dawn that they haven’t played so much in recent years) and Andrew Bird joining MMJ onstage with his violin on a few songs. Now that they’ve played to hordes at Bonaroo and the throngs at Taste of Chicago, I sure hope they’re winning a lot of new fans.
Ray Davies was the headliner, and unfortunately, the security people running the Taste seemed unaware of the fact that a lot of MMJ fans left before Davies started. The result: empty seats. Meanwhile, people were lined up, wanting to get in. Without the seats as full as they should have been, the reception for Davies initially seemed a little muted. I enjoyed this performance, but not as much as Davies’ show this spring at the Vic. Maybe the longer format of the Vic concert just gave him more time to throw in more Kinks songs, including more obscurities. The songs from Davies’ solo record sounded OK, but they weren’t nearly as thrilling as “I’m Not Like Everybody Else.” The crowd stuck around for a while after Davies did his “You Really Got Me” encore, hoping maybe for a second encore and “Lola.” But it was not to be.
The first act of the afternoon was Mike Doughty, the former Soul Coughing lead singer. Now, this is someone I’ve been hearing about for years without ever paying much attention to the music. I wasn’t impressed. Too Dave Matthews-y for my tastes, though I’ve heard worse.
One of the highlights of this whole afternoon was watching the sign-language chicks standing at the side of the stage, offering their sign-language interpretations of the lyrics – at least, the lyrics that they knew or could make out. They also did a lot of air guitar and drumming motions when the bands weren’t singing. They were cute, and frequently grinning as if they realized how silly the whole thing might appear.
I was a little doubtful about how thrilling a solo acoustic concert by Chris Mills would be at the end of the night (such shows usually seem more engaging earlier in the evening, for me at least), but he proved his mettle with a very enjoyable set tonight. It was nice to hear his recent songs in this bare-bones format, with all of those horns and strings stripped away (not that there's enough wrong with those grandiose arrangments). A few of the audience members were rather annoying with their loud comments, though it did turn amusing when the banter prolonged Mills' attempt to start playing his final song of the night, finally compelling him to remark that he was in desperate need of a trip to the bathroom. After the show, I picked up a tour-only CD of outtakes from Mills' last record, The Wall to Wall Sessions. (I haven't had a chance to listen to it yet...)
SEE PHOTOS OF CHRIS MILLS.
The opening act was a trio from Detroit called I, Crime. They sounded pretty good, with a combination of alt-country, old-style rock and punk. A milder version of X, perhaps? The songs did not leave that much of an impression on me, but I would see them again.
SEE PHOTOS OF I, CRIME.
I knew Millennium Park was a beautiful place (yeah, even with all of the stuff crammed into it and the slight tinge of amusement park...) but I'd never seen a concert there before. What a great place to see live music on a nice summer night. The free general admission seating worked out great. Even though it was crowded and I showed up just a few minutes before starting time, I walked into the pavilion and easily found a seat in the second row right in front of the stage. Frank Gehry's architecture created an interesting backdrop for the music.
All of that being said, the security at the concert venue was ridiculous. These spoil-sports vainly tried to enforce a rule against dancing in the pavilion (it's apparently allowed out on the lawn, but not in the area closest to the stage). Maybe that rule makes sense for the many classical concerts held here, but with Seu Jorge and his percussionists going at it wildly – and then with Amadou & Mariam getting into African grooves – the dancing was unstoppable. Even at the end, the ushers were trying to keep people from dancing in the few feet of space right in front of the stage.
Anyway, both acts were fabulous. I had some trouble really getting into Seu Jorge's 2005 album Cru after being wowed by his concert last year at Logan Square Auditorium. It's a fine record, but not nearly as exciting as his live show. Tonight's concert verified my impression from last year – that he's a vibrant performer with a rich voice. I love the way his voice creaks its way around the lower notes. And his band, mostly percussionists who switch off on playing ukelele, knows how to get an infectious beat going. Jorge of course played a couple of the David Bowie covers that he has become known for. I hope he tries something similar with songs by other artists.
SEE PHOTOS OF SEU JORGE.
Last year, I saw Seu Jorge and Amadou & Mariam on consecutive days at the Chicago World Music Festival, so it was a real pleasure to see both acts on the same bill this time. Amadou & Mariam were marvelous – with Mariam's voice in fine form, and Amadou's guitar solos sounding as good as ever. It took a few songs for the crowd to get back into the dancing spirit (everyone might have been a little worn out by Seu Jorge), but then the dancing resumed.
SEE PHOTOS OF AMADOU & MARIAM. |
ALL CONTENTS © 2006 BY ROBERT
LOERZEL. PLEASE CONTACT ME FOR PERMISSION TO PUBLISH PHOTOS OR OTHER MATERIAL.