Displaying items by tag: Mary Ann Bowman

“Southern Rapture” quickly elicits loud guffaws from the audience, a heartening circumstancve, as it means playwright Eric Coble’s script is doing its job. Billed as a satire, it recounts the tumultuous week in real life leading up to the 1996 opening night of Tony Kushner's celebrated AIDS play, “Angels in America” in Charlotte, NC. But what might have been a tragic recount of small-minded efforts at artistic repression gets turned on its head, a potential tragedy mined for comedy, with an ending that is at once affirming and exhilarating.  

This show at Theater Wit, produced by three-year-old Tin Drum Theatre Company, is loaded with broad humor, and is something of a backstage comedy as well. For purposes of the script, Charlotte becomes a generic southern city, and Kushner becomes Anton Finewitz, and his vaunted work is transformed into “Rapture in America.” 

The show parodies not just the reactionary forces that sought unsuccessfully to keep “Angels in America” from running. It also takes aim at the theater company, its governing board, local government, and the national media that spun the controversy into the unnuanced, dualistic divisiveness that seems to have solidified as a way of American life today. 

As “Rapture in America” barrels toward dress rehearsal, a big supratitle flashes the daily countdown to its local premiere. In an opening monolog to the audience, Marjorie Hooper proudly tells us, “The play’s won the Pulitzer, Tony, Drama Desk Award, an Evening Standard Award, the Rainbow Excellence Award and an ASPCA citation—We’re one of only six theaters in the nation to get the rights to do the show outside of New York!” Indeed! 

When word gets around there will be full frontal male nudity in the show, the gears of progress run unevenly, and almost grind to a halt. Company director Marjorie Winthrop (Shannon Leigh Webber) attempts to insulate her performers from the backlash, which comes in the form of Reverend Dupree (Andrew Bosworth) and a town gadfly Lavern Jackson (Jenny Hoops). Jackson has read the script and counted the number of mentions of “cocksucker” and other notable perversions to the Charlotte Town Council. (In a content warning to the audience, Jackson’s list includes “one penis,” which indeed appears in the second act at Theatre Wit.)

Charlotte Mayor Winston Paxton (Teddy Boone), ever even-tempered, tries to stay above the fray. His aspirations for transforming this growing city into a world-class metropolis have netted a symphony orchestra, a national sports franchise, and now, an important regional theater company, about to move into the big leagues. But the mayor is beginning to feel unsettled, praising the season’s opener, "The Odd Couple," and encouraging Marjorie to do something other than “Rapture.”

“There’s still gonna be plenty of art!,” the Mayor argues. “It’s just art we can all appreciate. Because that ‘Odd Couple’ was one of the goddam funniest things I ever saw in my life.” But Marjorie will have none of that, declaring the play "epic." 

It even dares to cut through the slavish devotion accorded "Angels in America" and Kushner himself, asking a if this two-part six-hour "epic" work might be too much in a town that likes to get home in time to catch Jay Leno.  

"'“Epic' meaning?" asks the mayor. "Three hours, two intermissions," Marjorie tells him. "And that’s just Part I. Part II is three hours too."
"Good lord, is this a play or a telethon?" asks the mayor, and the playwright punctures the unquestioned aura that seems to envelop Kushner and his fans. 

 Amid the brewing ontroversey, Marjorie conjures up a “bubble” for the players, a send up of that too precious psychobabble affectation that performers may have seen once or twice:

Marjorie: We’re in the bubble, say it with me.

Players: We’re in the bubble.

Marjorie: And what do we do in the bubble?

Players: We make art in the bubble.

Even theater reviewers get skewered in the no-holds-barred script: 

“When I have something to say,” says beleaguered Mayor Paxton, “I’ll talk to a real reporter.”

“I am a journalist,” Simon Larisher (Jordon Gleaves) retorts, to which the mayor replies, no, “You’re a theater critic!” Ouch! 

The playwright specifies just seven actors should play the 16 roles, and director Jason Palmer and the high-caliber cast carry this off wonderfully. Particularly notable are Andrew Bosworth as the protesting preacher Reverend Dupree, and two of his nemeses: the playwright who has flown from New York into the fray, and company member Mickey Steadman, who will deliver the full monty. Bosworth plays the roles distinctively and we have no confusion.

Even more so for Mary Ann Bowman as the theater company board chair, the district attorney, and the over-the-top Nyla-Jean Geisy, a winged creature essential to the play within this play. Likewise for Gleaves, who carries off very well with the support of a good script four roles, including the TV host of “Night Line” and a Franklin McManus, a highly effective lawyer given to flowery South Carlina colloquialisms.

Beyond its funny rendition of what it must have been like in Charlotte in 1996, “Southern Rapture” does something more. For me, it’s a reminder that we can recover from our seemingly intractable current state of social affairs. After all, we’ve done it numerous times in the last three decades, and even following the darkest of times in the 1950s with McCarthyism and the blacklisting of creatives. 

Back in the real Charlotte, “Angels in America” opened to record ticket sales, and the protests withered in the face of ticket-buyer preferences. Though the theater company that produced it saw its funding cut in retribution, a successor there commissioned this very funny “Rapture in America,” which feels cathartic all in all.

Now “Angels in America” is the stuff of celebrated revivals, and no one blinks an eye. So we do make it through these times of darkness, the forces of Steven Miller, Trad Wives and Andrew Tate notwithstanding. And we will recover from our current predicament too. 

Even with some clunkers among its running gags and jokes, “Southern Rapture” is highly recommended. It runs at Theater Wit through June 28, 2026.

Open Space Arts presents a premiere performance of Michael McKeever’s MR PARKER. Like everything I’ve seen at Open Space Arts (OSA), the acting was superlative: kudos to Andrew Kain Miller (Terry), Riley Capp (Justin), and Mary Ann Bowman (Cassie)! and their maneuverability in the confined space displayed expert blocking by Director/Producer/(EverythingElse-Er) David G. Zak.

The story of a widow just beginning to emerge from mourning is a familiar shared experience, bringing us immediately into rapport with Terry (Andrew Kain Miller). The complications of his journey are just as classical: his ambivalence toward accepting what the far-younger Justin (Riley Capp) is offering, and the affirmation of his doubts by Cassie (Mary Ann Bowman), his sister-in-law and sole remaining family.

It bears repetition: the cast as a whole was amazing. As usual however, I have a favorite: Riley Capp was singularly convincing as young Justin. From his first appearance Capp was compelling, maintaining Justin’s manic energy to the end – a fairly difficult bit of stagecraft, at that. Honestly, I loved his work – this isn’t simply faghag inclination toward a perfectly adorable faggot (Justin – I’ve no clue about Riley).

I have a special affection for Chicago’s small storefront theatres. I love being engulfed in the performers’ pheromone cloud. More significantly, I am consistently awestruck at the excellence of the casts and production crews in these presumably insignificant venues, rivalling – even surpassing – the large professional productions in the Loop and other glittering venues. I applaud David G. Zak for bringing his long mastery to work with the Second City’s abundance of unsung prodigies.

MR PARKER explores many universal questions and themes: how do love and sexuality interact? how, when, and for how long should grief be expressed? how does personal loss affect one’s other relationships? what are the ‘acceptable’ age boundaries for couples? And, most importantly (to me, any road), how do unspoken mandates and exigencies prevent our aging with joy?

I’m always amazed at how skillfully Open Space Arts’ production crew utilizes the restricted and compromised (6” pipe through centre stage? 6.5’ ceiling?) space. But clearly Set Designer Anna Burke and Lighting Designer Lex Newmane see these not as flaws but as creative challenges, which they most assuredly rise to. Stage Manager Lauren Littlejohn, with Assistant Kate Schnetzer, keep the company focused, despite three (three!) entrances and a ceiling that brushes heads. Open Space Arts is a classic Chicago storefront theater; one isn’t just seeing a play but enjoying a unique theatrical experience. Oh yeah! Angela Joy Baldasare managed Sound Design, and Intimacy Coordinator Greta Zandstra artfully demonstrated the complexity of emotional relationships.

It's my opinion that MR PARKER would benefit from a bit of judicious editing. Much of the script flowed evenly but some transitions were more ragged.  In particular I found some of Terry’s (Andrew Kain Miller) solo scenes superfluous – though my companion was most moved by Terry’s soliloquies… de gustibus non disputandum, n’est-ce pas? Personally, I would have liked to see more of and about Cassie (Mary Ann Bowman) … or maybe I just lusted after her wardrobe! especially that luscious black blouse with pave-set rhinestones at the neckline and cuffs. Can I have it when you’re done with it, Costume Designer Benjamin Mills??

Overall, I recommend MR PARKER as an excellent theatrical experience. I think perhaps my enjoyment was enhanced by events immediately preceding and following the play – repeated instances of the kindness of strangers. Certainly, that is welcome in today’s political zeitgeist.

MR PARKER is playing at Open Space Arts through March 2nd – plenty of time to get a ticket, and a wonderful choice for Valentine’s Day!