Displaying items by tag: Musical theatre

Rogers & Hammerstein’s South Pacific has long been one of my favorite musicals, not just for its sweeping romance and unforgettable score, but for the way it tackles big ideas with such touching honesty. Set on a remote island during World War II, the show blends sunlit escapism with the very real tensions shaping its characters’ lives, creating a story that’s as heartfelt as it is enduring.

South Pacific follows two intertwined love stories set against the backdrop of World War II, each colored and strained by the racial prejudices of the era. The musical centers on Nellie Forbush, an American nurse from Arkansas, who falls for Emile de Becque, a French plantation owner living on a South Pacific island. Their romance is warm, hopeful, and immediate, but Nellie falters when she learns that Emile has mixed-race children, forcing her to confront the biases she didn’t realize she carried. Meanwhile, a young Marine lieutenant, Joseph Cable, falls in love with Liat, a Tonkinese woman, only to recoil from the social consequences of marrying her. These parallel stories expose the poignant cost of prejudice, a theme the musical tackles directly and candidly.

The show’s creators - Richard Rodgers (music), Oscar Hammerstein II (lyrics and co-book), and Joshua Logan (co-book) - adapted the musical from James A. Michener’s Pulitzer Prize-winning Tales of the South Pacific. Their adaptation blends romance, wartime tension, and social critique, using songs like “Some Enchanted Evening,” “Younger Than Springtime,” and the pointed “You’ve Got to Be Carefully Taught” to deepen the narrative’s resonant and political stakes. The hit 1958 film version, starring Mitzi Gaynor and Rossano Brazzi, helped cement South Pacific as a cultural landmark and carried its most iconic songs to an even wider audience. South Pacific debuted on Broadway in 1949, where it became an immediate hit and went on to win the Pulitzer Prize for Drama, and now the beloved musical has found a temporary home at Paramount Theatre’s massive stage in Aurora's thriving downtown theater district.

Paramount’s production is anchored by a cast that brings both freshness and passionate sharpness to this classic musical.

Strong pecs are de rigueur for a troop of World War II U.S. Navy seabees stationed on a tropical island in Rodgers and Hammerstein’s South Pacific, playing now through June 14 at downtown Aurora’s Paramount Theatre. For tickets, visit ParamountAurora.com or call (630) 896-6666.

Allsun O’Malley brings a bright, grounded sincerity to Nellie Forbush, making her Paramount debut with a turn that feels fully lived-in rather than broadly sketched. Her Nellie is warm, funny, and emotionally accessible, and she brings each of her songs to life with bright, expressive vocals - especially “A Wonderful Guy,” which she delivers with pure joy, and a buoyant optimism that never obscures the character’s underlying complexity. O’Malley also reveals Nellie’s internal contradictions with clear, intentional choices, letting the audience see the exact moments when her optimism collides with what she calls an inherited prejudice. Playing opposite, Devin Archer delivers a commanding and deeply felt Emile de Becque. Archer’s rich velvety voice has the kind of effortless power that makes “Some Enchanted Evening” land with full romantic weight. Also, the quiet, wounded dignity he brings to Emile’s past gives the role its human spine. The chemistry of the two is undeniable. Archer and O’Malley form a partnership that feels real, tender, and the kind of connection every couple hopes for.

Cindy Chang’s Bloody Mary is a standout from her first entrance, played with sharp wit and a knowing edge that never slips into stereotype. Chang gives the character agency and intelligence, making her both a shrewd survivor and a mother navigating impossible circumstances. Anthony Maggio, as Lt. Joseph Cable, delivers a performance that balances youthful idealism with the crushing weight of societal expectation. His later scenes - especially his deeply felt rendition of “You’ve Got to Be Carefully Taught,” the song that argues hate is learned, not innate - give Maggio’s work real force and heartfelt depth.

Matthew Michael Janisse is absolutely wonderful as Luther Billis, perfectly cast and firing off some of the evening’s sharpest comedic timing. He brings a mischievous ease to every entrance, shaping the humor with character-driven precision rather than broad antics, and his presence reliably lifts the energy of each scene he touches. Louisa Darr’s Liat offers a gentle, luminous counterbalance, shaping the role with quiet grace. Esteban Ortiz‑Villacorta (Professor) and Chris Khoshaba (Stewpot) add texture and humor to the ensemble, while Joshua L. Green’s Captain George Brackett and David Rossetti’s Commander William Harbison provide crisp, authoritative counterpoints. Young performers Evelyn Dorough and Elle Laroco (Ngana) and Bennet Angsurat and Vin Laroco (Jerome) bring charm and authenticity to their scenes, rounding out a talented cast that feels cohesive, committed, and fully engaged in the world of the production.

The ensemble is exceptional across the board, moving with a unified energy that enriches every scene. Their vocal blend, character detail, and fantastic dancing give this interpretation its heartbeat, making the world of the island feel alive with youthful energy.

Nellie Forbush (Allsun O'Malley) admits to her fellow nurses she’s in love with a wonderful guy in Rodgers and Hammerstein’s South Pacific, the 2025-26 Broadway Series finale at downtown Aurora’s Paramount Theatre. 

One of my favorite South Pacific moments comes when Cindy Chang steps into “Bali Ha’i,” singing with a hypnotic calm and quiet urgency that makes the number seem both inviting and faintly mysterious, as if she’s revealing a world only she can fully see. That spell is followed by the sailors’ showstopping “There Is Nothin’ Like a Dame,” a riot of comic bravado and tight choreography that electrifies the stage. And just when the energy peaks, the nurses answer with a gleeful, splashy rendition of “I’m Gonna Wash That Man Right Outa My Hair,” led by Allsun O’Malley and complete with real water cascading from onstage showers - a burst of theatrical fun the audience clearly loved.

Co-directors Devon Hayakawa and Trent Stork guide this Rodgers and Hammerstein masterpiece with a confident, contemporary touch, shaping a presentation that honors the show’s sweeping romance while sharpening its sincere and thematic edges. Their staging is purposeful and fluid, allowing humor, heart, and tension to coexist without competing. Choreographer Morgan DiFonzo adds another vital layer, crafting movement that feels organically rooted in character while giving the staging its rhythmic pulse. Together, the trio delivers a revival that respects the classic while infusing it with fresh perspective and simplicity.

The set and costumes are nothing short of breathtaking, with projections that expand the already majestic environment into a fully realized island in the South Pacific. Jeffrey D. Kmiec’s scenic design features towering, densely layered trees that rise beyond the height of the stage, using every inch of space with intention and beauty. Izumi Inaba’s costumes enrich the world with texture and authenticity, while Greg Hofmann’s magical lighting bathes the stage in shifting moods that deepen the sense of place. Adam Rosenthal’s sound design adds precision and atmosphere, and Mike Tutaj’s projections provide some of the production’s most magical touches - most memorably a stunning firefly-filled night scene that seems to shimmer in the air. As a unit, the design team created a world that feels immersive, transportive, and alive with the beauty of island nature. 

Under the baton of Music Director and Conductor Kory Danielson, the orchestra sounds vibrant, balanced, and enthusiastically attuned to the storytelling. Danielson shapes the score with clarity and warmth, giving the big ensemble numbers buoyant lift while letting the more intimate moments breathe. His leadership keeps the musical pulse steady and expressive, ensuring the show’s soulful arcs land with full impact.

This South Pacific is a richly imagined, beautifully performed revival that captures the sweep, humor, and emotional punch of the Rodgers and Hammerstein defining musical while giving it a revitalized, contemporary pulse. From the stunning design work to the standout performances and thoughtfully shaped direction, every element comes together with definition and heart. It’s a staging that invites you in, holds you close, and stays with you long after the final notes fade. Rogers & Hammerstein’s South Pacific runs through June 14th, and it’s absolutely worth catching before it sails away.

I highly recommend this breathtaking and deeply romantic beloved musical. 

For tickets and/or more show information, click here.

This review is proudly shared with our friends at www.TheatreInChicago.com. 

Over the years, I’ve seen a lot of theater and a lot of musical performances. And because of that, people regularly ask what the best show I’ve seen is. Without hesitation, I tell them it was the 2018 Jeff Award-winning production of The Buddy Holly Story at American Blues Theater.

So, when I took my seat for American Blues Theater’s current production of Always…Patsy Cline and opened my program, I was thrilled to see many of the same names I remembered from the Buddy Holly cast and orchestra. And when I looked to my right, I was even more thrilled to see Michael Mahler - the musical director of the Buddy Holly show - seated just down the row, as he’s filling the same role with this show. I knew right then I was in for a night of good music.

Scenic designer Tara A. Houston’s bandstand - this was my first time attending a show at the theater’s Lincoln Avenue digs, which I found to be a really inviting venue - seconded the promise of a good time with its upright piano, upright bass, and lone classic silver Shure microphone just waiting for words to be sung to it. I was so excited for the music that I hardly noticed the rest of Houston’s set - a quaint mid-century kitchen tucked off to the side.

Because that’s the thing… I got to Always…Patsy Cline thinking I was just going to see yet another jukebox musical, albeit one done really well. But with this show, the audience gets a whole lot more than a standard IRL biopic.

Yes, it begins with Liz Chidester waltzing up to that Shure mic and singing into it about being back in her baby’s arms, of going out walking after midnight, of falling to pieces, and of being crazy for feeling so blue. Chidester nails Cline’s look - thanks in no small part to gorgeous costume design by Lily Walls which transports us back to the middle of the 20^th century one chic outfit at a time. And Chidester’s got a wonderful voice that gets to the places Cline’s voice got to, while mimicking that magical warmth and sheen that recordings of that era lent a vocalist. Yes, she makes a fine Patsy Cline.

And yes, the band is killer. Ian Paul Custer conducts while also adding Floyd Cramer-esque flourishes on the piano. Lior Shragg provides more than twenty musical numbers with their steady beat (and his beat-keeping becomes a plot point), joined in the rhythm section by versatile bassist, Marc Edelstein. Lauren Vogel’s fiddle goes from heartbreak to hoedown. And guitarist Nilko Andreas’ Fender Stratocaster approximates the whines of a lap steel one moment before slipping into more stately countrypolitan accompaniment.

Yes, if you go see Always…Patsy Cline simply for an overly generous and expertly played evening of deep cuts (I’d forgotten all about “Three Cigarettes in an Ashtray,” but it was a highlight) and country classics (Chidester’s dreamy vocals carried me off as she harkened the Nile and “old Algiers”), you will get way more than your money’s worth.

But while all of this is going on - while Chidester and her band are transporting us with song after song - this show is also not just another jukebox musical. Instead, it looks at how those singular talents worthy of their own musical affect us, the audience.

That role - of fan, of the one experiencing the music and being transported by the artist - is played onstage by the second member of this two-woman cast. Molly Hernandez - who played Buddy Holly’s wife and muse Maria Elena in not just the 2018 production I so loved but in a more recent Marriott Theatre production of the same, and who’s graced many other stages around Chicago in the years since - plays Louise, a hilarious, hard-drinking, fast-talking, all-heart Texas gal who just loves the records by this Patsy Cline. She loves those records so much, in fact, it leads to a one-night friendship and a lifelong (not long enough, sadly) pen-pal relationship between the two women. While her character’s name isn’t on the marquee, Hernandez is the show’s MVP. She’s the narrator. She’s the heart. And she’s a real hoot - strutting and sassing and boot-scooting all over the place, giving the show a real-world grounding that even the best shows about famous people can’t provide.

What was so unexpected about Always…Patsy Cline is that it understands something most jukebox musicals miss entirely (even the one at the top of my list!): the songs aren’t really the story. The people carrying them around in their hearts are. Director Harmony France gives us the larger-than-life Patsy Cline we paid to see by looking at her through the eyes of one of the millions spinning her records on their turntable.

And that’s what’s still sticking with me… Yes, I’ll remember Chidester’s velvety vocals, Hernandez’s comic and dramatic talent, and again, a killer country-and-western band. But mostly I’ll remember Always…Patsy Cline as less of a biopic than a love letter: to fandom, to friendship, to old country songs, and to the artists whose voices keep reaching across decades to soundtrack our lives. American Blues Theater has done it again with Always…Patsy Cline, running now through June 21st.

This review is proudly shared with our friends at www.TheatreInChicago.com. 

Lake Forest's Citadel Theatre has announced its 2026-27 mainstage season, which will include two favorites and two acclaimed recent pieces that may be new to north shore audiences. The season will commence with the satirical comedy EUREKA DAY, which examines the frequently contradictory practices of a fictional, highly progressive private school located in Berkeley, California. The play, which premiered in Berkeley in 2018, deals with topical subjects like vaccinations, privilege, and communication, utilizing sharp wit, farce, and intense dialogue to create laughter  It was produced on Broadway in the 2024-25 season and won the 2025 Tony Award for Best Revival of Play. Scott Westerman, the director of such Citadel hits as MISERY, A JUKEBOX FOR THE ALGONQUIN, THE MOUSETRAP, and SEX WITH STRANGERS, will direct. EUREKA DAY will open Friday, September 11 at 7:30 pm, following a preview on September 9, and play through October 11.
 
In November and December, Citadel will be visited by Clarence the Angel and the beleaguered George Bailey when the company presents IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE: THE LIVE RADIO PLAY, based on the perennial favorite holiday film that starred James Stewart and Donna Reed. When the film premiered in 1946, before the television era, it was a common practice for popular films to be performed as live radio plays, and IT'S WONDERFUL LIFE was performed live on THE LUX RADIO THEATRE with Stewart recreating his role as George Bailey on December 23, 1947. This radio play adaptation by playwright Joe Landry not only brings the film's beloved story to the stage, but it also recreates the magic of the heyday of radio dramas. Landry has added original pastiches of commercial jingles that run throughout the play and created characters of the radio actors who are playing the characters of the film. Jack Hickey, the former Artistic Director of Oak Park Festival Theatre, who directed Citadel's THE COTTAGE in 2024, will return to Citadel to direct. IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE: A LIVE RADIO PLAY will open on Friday, November 13 after previews on November 11 and 12, and play through December 13.
 
Citadel will follow IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE with another story from the 1940's that has never faded in popularity: Tennessee Williams' THE GLASS MENAGERIE. In depression-era St. Louis, Amanda Wingfield dreams of her past as an attractive, sought-after southern belle and wants to believe her painfully shy daughter can enjoy the same sort of popularity. Amanda's adult son Tom spends his days working in a shoe warehouse and his nights at the movies, dreaming of a way to find a more exciting life. THE GLASS MENAGERIE premiered in Chicago on December 26, 1944, and was an instant sensation, establishing Williams as a major American playwright. This poetic and emotional work exploring the tension between reality and illusion, will be directed by Scott Shallenbarger, who helmed Citadel's I AND YOU and MIRACLE ON SOUTH DIVISION STREET. Citadel co-founder Ellen Phelps will take on the iconic role of Amanda Wingfield. THE GLASS MENAGERIE will open on Friday, February 12, following previews on February 10 and 11 and play through March 14.
 
Closing Citadel's 2026-27 season will be ORDINARY DAYS, a musical about four young New Yorkers whose lives intersect as they search for fulfillment, happiness, love and cabs. This sung-through musical featuring 21 songs has been an international hit since it premiered in 2008 in a production at Penn State University. Over the next ten years, it was produced in London (six times), Paris, Barcelona, Sydney, Rio de Janeiro, Buenos Aires, and Wellington, New Zealand before finally making its off-Broadway premiere in 2018. It has enjoyed continued popularity around the world since then, and its ballad, "I'll Be Here" has been recorded by such artists as Audra McDonald and Liz Callaway. ORDINARY DAYS will be directed for Citadel by Christina Ramirez, who directed RUTHLESS! THE MUSICAL for Citadel Theatre in April and May 2026. ORDINARY DAYS will open to the press on Friday, April 16, following previews on April 14 and 15, and play through May 16.
 
Season subscriptions are available for the full four-show season at $140.00, or as flex passes that can be used for the patron's choice of either three shows for $115.00 or two shows for $80.00. Preview flex passes are also available for $45 (two shows), $55 (three shows), or $65 (four shows). Subscriptions and single tickets priced at $50 (plus ticketing. Fees) are now on sale at www.citadeltheatre.org. 
 
Citadel Theatre is in residence in the West Campus of the Lake Forest School District at 300 S. Waukegan Road, Lake Forest. Further information and ticketing is available on the company's website at www.citadeltheatre.org. 

Get ready for a cosmic comedy of gods, monsters, and mayhem that refuses to play by the old rules. That’s right - the universe is ending, and apparently it booked a headliner.

In Lifeline’s world premiere Loki: The End of the World Tour, we travel to another universe where Norse gods wrestle with fate, power, and the consequences of welcoming a trickster into their midst. Loki, half‑god and half‑giant, storms into Asgard with the force of a live wire, intent on reshaping his identity and carving out a place in the celestial hierarchy. His charm wins over Odin almost immediately, but the rest of the pantheon isn’t so easily convinced. While gentle Baldur welcomes him with the sunny goodwill he offers everyone, Thor bristles at the sudden competition for his father’s attention, and Freya senses danger in him from the start. Meanwhile, Loki’s three unusual children - Hel, Fenris (a wolfen creature), and the slithery Midgard Serpent - appear in Asgard as the very figures described in the prophecy Odin dreads, the beings destined to spark Ragnarok and bring the realm to its knees. Caught in the middle, Sigyn finds herself drawn to Loki’s restless spirit even as these revelations cast a looming war between gods and giants across their path. Loki’s return from the land of giants sets off a quiet upheaval in Asgard, and it’s clear the realm will never look the same again. Yep, Lifeline Theatre certainly lives up to its “Big Stories, Up Close” tagline in this original creation, transforming ancient myth into a visceral, close‑quarters clash of gods, secrets, and fate.

The show kicks off with a blast of rock‑and‑roll as the onstage trio - guitarist and music director Kelan Smith, keyboardist Kara Alexander, and drummer/bassist Alek Boggio - tears into the opening number. These three performers also serve as the Norns, guiding the audience through the story with a mix of narration, commentary, and musical firepower. Penned by Lifeline ensemble members Christina Calvit and George Howe and directed by Heather Currie, the “World Tour” concept gives the production a playful, concert‑style frame that keeps the energy high from the very first chord. Earplugs are free for anyone who wants them, and even with the show’s solid sound mix, you might be glad to have a pair handy - particularly in Act Two, when Boggio unleashes a drum assault that rattles the room.

Jack Chylinski leads the company with a magnetic, mercurial turn as Loki, slipping between charm, menace, and mischief with the ease of a born shapeshifter. The physicality is sharp and unpredictable, and they ride the rock score with a swagger that makes the trickster god both dangerous and oddly irresistible. Opposite him, Scott Danielson brings a seasoned authority to Odin, grounding the production with a commanding presence and vocals that cut cleanly through the music. Danielson’s All‑Father carries the weight of prophecy and fear in every scene, and the show deepens whenever he steps into the light.

Kelan Smith, Alek Boggio, Kara Olander, Janelle Anabria in LOKI THE END OF THE WORLD TOUR. Photo by Josh Bernaski.

Janelle Sanabria’s Freya is a powerhouse in every sense, her vocals soaring across the theatre with clarity, range, and emotional bite. She plays the goddess with fierce intelligence and a simmering distrust that adds real tension to the pantheon. Keenan Odenkirk, meanwhile, delivers a standout comedic performance as Thor, balancing bluster, jealousy, and impeccable timing. His ability to punch a line, hold a beat, and land a laugh gives the show some of its sharpest moments. Peter Gertas brings a bright, buoyant charm to Baldur, radiating warmth as the god of light and shifting effortlessly into his more grounded work as Mason.

India Renteria offers a luminous, heartfelt Sigyn, grounding the chaos around her with sincerity and emotional clarity. Loki’s three children - Grace Reidenauer as the coolly witty Hel, Anthony Kayer as the feral and unexpectedly tender Fenris (and the delightfully bold Thrym), and Avery Thompson as the playful, serpentine Middy - round out the ensemble with vivid, memorable performances. Each brings a distinct energy to the stage, and together they form a trio that’s as funny as it is thematically essential. The cast as a whole fuels the production with personality, precision, and a rock‑and‑roll spirit that never lets the momentum dip.

The physical world of the production is intentionally spare, yet it feels remarkably tailored to the story thanks to the combined work of scenic designer Lindsay Mummert, props designer Saskia Bakker, and lighting designer G. “Max” Maxin IV. Instead of overwhelming the stage with spectacle, the design team leans into simplicity and lets the atmosphere do the heavy lifting. The band sits off to one side in full view, their presence giving the show the pulse and immediacy of a live concert rather than a traditional musical. Maxin’s washes of purple light bathe the space in an otherworldly glow, transforming the minimalist set into something mythic, shifting, and just a little dangerous.

Anthony Kayer, Jack Chylinski, Grace Reidenauer and Avery Thompson in LOKI THE END OF THE WORLD TOUR. Photo by Josh Bernaski.

This production feels like lightning in a bottle, and the cast - backed by that ferocious onstage band - absolutely tears into it. New, original musicals don’t always find their musical footing right away, but this one arrives with a score that feels confident, catchy, and fully realized. Several numbers grabbed me on first listen, and by the time the show barrels into its final sequence, the music swells into a full‑throttle rock anthem that literally dares the audience to join in. The closing chorus suggests, with a wink and a blast of guitar, that if the world really is ending, we might as well crank the volume and go out in a rockin’ blaze of sound - and honestly, it’s hard to argue with that.

Loki: The End of the World Tour is the kind of original musical that proves, yet again, how fiercely inventive Chicago storefront theatre can be when it fires on all cylinders. Lifeline’s ensemble throws themselves into the chaos with precision, personality, and a rock‑and‑roll fearlessness that makes the whole night feel like a small miracle happening a few feet away. It’s smart, loud, heartfelt, and just strange enough to feel genuinely new - the sort of show you want to tell people about before it closes. And with the production running through June 27th, there’s still time to catch the lightning (or Thor's hammer) for yourself. As for logistics, street parking in the neighborhood remains one of the city’s best‑kept secrets: arrive a little early and you’ll likely snag a spot without the headache of garages or meters. For a show this fun, this fresh, and this full of talent, the trip is absolutely worth it.

For tickets/and/or more information, click here.

This review is proudly shared with our friends at www.TheatreInChicago.com. 

The Wedding Singer is currently onstage at Metropolis Performing Arts Centre in Arlington Heights, offering a faithful and upbeat interpretation of the Adam Sandler–Drew Barrymore film. The production leans into the story’s rom‑com roots while making effective use of the Metropolis space, integrating ensemble work, clear character moments, and a series of well‑staged song‑and‑dance numbers to establish its easygoing, ’80s‑infused tone.

Before getting deeper into the production itself, it’s worth pausing to talk about the music. Not being familiar with the stage version - but very familiar with the film - I walked in fully expecting a night filled with Culture Club, The Cars, Depeche Mode, Dead or Alive, Huey Lewis, the B‑52s and, of course, Billy Idol. After all, Broadway has reimagined just about everything, so why not build a soundtrack from these great artists? But that isn’t what the musical sets out to deliver. While the film rolls out one 1980s hit after another, the stage adaptation replaces those songs with an entirely original score. Curious about the shift, and assuming it might be a budget decision, I did some digging - and here’s what I found.

Ok, so The Wedding Singer stage musical wasn’t conceived as a jukebox show. When Chad Beguelin, Tim Herlihy, and Matthew Sklar adapted the film for the stage, they chose to create an original score rather than license the movie’s well‑known pop hits. Securing rights to songs from multiple artists, labels, and publishers would have been enormously complex and prohibitively expensive (I was partially correct), and it would have limited the creative team to a patchwork of pre‑existing material. By writing new music, the creative team could shape songs around character development, pacing, and theatrical storytelling, all while capturing the spirit of the 1980s without relying on specific chart‑toppers. And while it may be a slight letdown for anyone hoping to hear those iconic hits, the production does nod to the film’s soundtrack: many of those artists play over the speakers as audiences enter, setting the mood with a warm wave of ’80s nostalgia before the show even begins.

From left - Cristina Benighoff, Kylie Tollefson, Jamie Dillon Grossman as Holly,  Teah Kiang Mirabelli as Julia and Jodi Gage as Angie. 

The musical adaptation of The Wedding Singer - with a book and music by the above mentioned Chad Beguelin, Tim Herlihy and Matthew Sklar - premiered at Seattle’s 5th Avenue Theatre on February 8, 2006, following previews that began January 31. It later transferred to Broadway, where it began previews on March 30 and officially opened at the Al Hirschfeld Theatre on April 27, 2006. Now, twenty years later, almost to the day after its Broadway debut, it has arrived in Arlington Heights.

For those anticipating a beat‑for‑beat version of the movie, the stage musical instead embraces a more expansive, stage‑shaped version of the story - exactly what a musical adaptation calls for. The core story and main characters remain, but it’s the show’s original songs, larger ensemble numbers, and broader comedic beats that naturally shift the tone. Certain plot points are streamlined, and some supporting characters are reimagined or expanded, while others, like the over-the-top lounge-singing character Jimmie Moore played by John Lovitz, don’t appear at all. The result keeps the spirit of the film intact, but filters it through the pacing, structure, and heightened style of a full musical.

At the center of the story is Robbie Hart, New Jersey’s go‑to wedding singer whose life unravels after his fiancée, Linda, leaves him at the altar. The musical charts his shift from upbeat crowd‑pleaser to heartbroken mess, blending the film’s familiar humor with a more expansive emotional arc. Robbie’s missteps, meltdowns, and attempts at recovery take on a brighter, more expressive energy onstage, all while staying true to the spirit of the original film.

Julia, the warm‑hearted waitress engaged to the wrong man, grounds the narrative and becomes the catalyst for Robbie’s rediscovery of hope. Their growing connection unfolds through new songs and heightened character moments as the two become closer and closer, surrounded by neon nostalgia and a fizzy sense of fun. By the time the show reaches its finale, it captures the same earnest, feel‑good spirit that made the Sandler and Barrymore film a favorite, now delivered with Broadway‑sized verve and a wink to every ’80s love story that came before it.

The score leans into the show’s 1980s setting with a mix of upbeat pop styles and earnest ballads, and while the songs themselves aren’t the most memorable, they’re delivered with strong vocals and crisp musical direction. Numbers like “It’s Your Wedding Day” and “Saturday Night in the City” bring plenty of energy, and pieces such as “Someday” and “If I Told You” give Robbie and Julia room to explore their emotional arcs. Altogether, the score creates a fun, nostalgia‑tinged atmosphere that supports the story even if the tunes don’t linger long after the curtain.

The Metropolis cast brings The Wedding Singer to life with an easy, infectious force that suits the show’s playful spirit. Abraham Deitz‑Green leads the production as Robbie Hart, offering strong vocals and confident movement throughout. His strength shows most clearly in the musical numbers, where his singing and dancing bring real appeal to the role and highlight where his talents truly land. His rendition of Adam Sandler’s “Grow Old with You” is especially sweet, giving the show one of its most heartfelt moments. There’s a sincerity in his approach that keeps the character engaging and makes it easy to root for him from start to finish. “Casualty of Love” lets Robbie hit rock bottom in spectacular fashion, and Deitz‑Green tears into the collapse with a mix of wild humor and crisp musicality.

Opposite Deitz‑Green, Teah Kiang Mirabelli brings Julia to the stage with a gentle warmth that immediately draws the audience in, and she positively glows as the character’s optimism and sincerity take shape. Her growing connection with Robbie feels effortless and genuine, supported by acting choices that are both clear and confidently delivered. Mirabelli gives Julia a grounded sincerity, a bright sense of humor, and a quiet emotional intelligence that enrich every scene she’s in. It’s a performance that consistently elevates the material and gives the show much of its heart.

Abraham Deitz-Green as Robbie Hart.

Around them, the supporting cast adds plenty of texture and momentum. Peyton Schoenhofer gives Glen just the right amount of slick confidence and the perfect touch of cockiness, while Andres J. DeLeon’s George and Danny Dollase’s Sammy bring sharp comedic timing to Robbie’s inner circle and enjoy several standout moments of their own, turning in multiple scene‑stealing bits that consistently lift the energy onstage. Jamie Dillon Grossman’s Holly brings a spark every time she appears drawing lots of laughs, and her vocals add real lift to the ensemble. Caron Buinis offers a crowd‑pleasing turn as Rosie, finding the humor in the role without tipping into caricature and ultimately delivering one of the show’s funniest performances. As Linda, Katherine Abel delivers a compact but very funny performance that adds just the right jolt of attitude.

The strong ensemble keeps the show moving with crisp choreography by Nich O'Neil and bright character work, giving the production a lively pulse from scene to scene. The airplane scene, packed with gleefully exaggerated celebrity impersonators, brings a burst of chaotic fun and stands out as one of the production’s funniest moments.

Guiding it all is director Amber Mak, whose steady hand shapes the blend of ’80s nostalgia, rom‑com sweetness, and high‑energy musical comedy. Her approach highlights the story’s heart without sacrificing its humor, creating a production that feels both affectionate toward the original film and confidently theatrical in its own right. The production maintains a lively pace from start to finish, striking a rhythm that keeps the story engaging without a single stretch that feels slow.

The glitzy, wedding‑themed set by Milo Blue gives the show a bright visual identity, and the choice to keep the live band visible throughout adds a dynamic, concert‑like presence that energizes every scene. Getting to watch the musicians play in full view is always a big plus for me. The band is beautifully led by Carolyn Brady - not Carol Brady; that would take us back to the ’70s.

One of the pleasures of this production is the steady stream of 1980s references woven throughout. A Mr. Belvedere shout‑out, a five‑pound car‑phone battery, a nod to the “Time to make the donuts” guy, and a perfectly timed “Where’s the beef?” all land with an easy, throwback charm. The show adds plenty of other touches from the era, delivered with just the right touch of silliness. From fashion jokes to pop‑culture moments I’m surely forgetting, each reference lands like a small time‑capsule detail that keeps the audience laughing and taps into the easy lure of the 1980s.

The Wedding Singer at Metropolis ultimately delivers a bright, good‑natured night out with plenty of laughs and well-choreographed musical numbers along the way. It leans into its ’80s nostalgia and rom‑com charm without taking itself too seriously, making it an easy pick for anyone in the mood for something fun and feel‑good. If you’re looking for a show that will lift your spirits and leave you smiling, this one is well worth the trip to Arlington Heights.

Through May 24^th at Metropolis Performing Arts Center.

For tickets and/or more show information, click here.

This review is proudly shared with our friends at www.TheatreInChicago.com. 

Everyone encounters many crossroads in their lives, where they make a choice that determines the future…and many people live to regret it. That is where Dawn, the protagonist of Out Here, the new musical receiving its premiere at Court Theatre finds herself. Unlike most people, however, her realization does not come in a quiet moment of reflection, but just as she and her husband, Brian, and 15-year-old daughter, Cleo, have discovered that they have a band and an audience. It’s a lot, and the extremely metatheatrical musical reflects the chaos well. While there are drawbacks to the format, including the impossibility of fully developing most of the characters, the one-act musical by Leslie Buxbaum (book and lyrics) and Erin McKeown (music and lyrics), based on a concept by Buxbaum, McKeown and David J. Levin, is an entertaining and often moving reflection on personal choices and the people they affect.

Breaking the fourth wall is a hallmark of musical theater, and metatheatrical reflections on the musical being performed are also not uncommon these days, but Out Here takes these conceits to a new level. And that, arguably, is what makes it work so well. The characters must learn how to respond to the fact that they are living their lives in a musical as they navigate the changes in their family structure. The musical form proves to be a convenient way to condense the journey into an evening for the benefit of the audience that comes with it. It also provides a metaphor for the families’ (there are several) journeys from fumbling with new relationships and legal and geographic uncertainty to settling into the rhythms of new lives. The music reflects the jarring awkwardness of both the unexpected performance and the fallout of Dawn’s announcement that her “here” is no longer where she wants to be. As they get more comfortable with both performance and marital differences, the characters begin to exploit their access to a band—and apparently new-found guitar skills—to sing their own songs and share their emotions with each other and the audience. Buxbaum and McKeown toy with breaking the rules of musical theater, allowing characters to exit to the green room and the lobby and to directly address the band and audience. When a mediator is needed, he enters from the band and introduces potential shared custody options in song—a song that that Cleo recognizes from a friend’s experience (and wonders if she could get a puppy, too). Director Chay Yew wisely trusts the material and allows characters and audience to just keep up—no unnecessary scene changes or projections indicating changes in setting—making for a fast-paced exploration of relationships, time, and what’s important in a life. It’s occasionally messy or unfulfilled, but always compelling.

Photo of Alex Goodrich, Ellie Duffey, and Becca Ayers in Out Here at Court Theatre. Phot by Michael Brosilow.

Despite all the metatheatrical machinations, Out Here has an easy-to-follow plot and a singular protagonist. This is Dawn’s story, and the character uses this to her advantage, controlling both the narrative and the other characters as much as possible—though neither musicals nor reality allow for time travel, not that Dawn doesn’t try. While passionately pursuing the life that she wants (and simultaneously trying to figure out what that means), Dawn could quickly become grating, as she seems to be surrounded by good options and supportive friends and family, plus a band. Fortunately, Becca Ayers brings lightness and self-awareness to the role, as well as the ability to belt out power ballads and harmonize with her partners in multiple musical genres. Cliff Chamberlain as Brian plays to his strengths as a mostly non-musical actor—and his voice works well for the folksy guitar serenades that Brian chooses as his musical medium. He is charming and initially almost overly forbearing but grows stronger as he realizes that he has been given an opportunity that he is not willing to give up. As their daughter, Cleo, Ellie Duffey is charismatic and complicated, thrilled to have an audience, wanting to support her parents, but irritated that she is being left out of the decision-making. When she finally gets a song, it’s a propulsive punk declaration that is a necessary release. Bethany Thomas as Robin, Dawn’s ex-girlfriend who reluctantly reenters Dawn’s life, is uncompromising and vulnerable, wanting to rekindle their relationship, but justifiably apprehensive, and her dynamic voice is perfect to convey both her character’s surety about what she needs, and her fear that she might be disappointed again. Thomas’s comic timing also complements Robin’s sarcasm.

Alex Goodrich brings charm and flair to the most musical-theater role of the musical, Martin—he’s in the band! He’s the mediator! He’s the BFF! He can be anything you want him to be, keep the tempo and find the right accompaniment. Though not personally invested, his empathetic performance ingratiates him to both the family and the audience. Also, part of the familial rebuild are Gina, the woman Brian begins dating and Jett, Robin’s grown child. They, too, get swept up in the musical, but they do not have their own songs (maybe if there were a second act?), though they manage to hold their own in the musical/slash family drama they have entered. Amanda Pulcini brings a grounded humor and composure to the most awkward of situations Gina finds herself in. The fact that Jett’s entrance is often introduced with the ominous phrase “the plot thickens” is ironic, since Jett, as played by Z Mowry, is amiable and understanding, someone who seems like a good person to have as a friend, and usually offers sound advice that helps the plot along.

The musical and the cast get top-notch support from the designers and musicians. Co-orchestrator (with Erin McKeown), conductor, and keyboard player Christie Chiles Twillie backs up the vocals and underscores the book perfectly, keeping the tempos tight and the volume attuned to the singers and the script. Breon Arzell’s movement adds controlled chaos, matching the verbal humor and tension with apt but unintrusive movement. Scenic Designers Andrew Boyce and Lauren M. Nichols have created a musical-scale proscenium out of roof beams that mirror the moods of the home’s inhabitants, with a large but cozy interior and expansive outside. Sound designer Lee Fiskness integrates sound effects with the music to mesh the sounds of home with the beats of the band. The musicians make it seem possible to suddenly have a life become a musical, moving easily between styles, “acting” in response to the cast and swelling instrumental lines for onstage instruments.

Whether one likes Out Here will probably depend on one’s tolerance for stories of privileged people choosing between multiple good options surrounded by understanding friends and family. However, there is no denying that using a DIY musical to represent the struggles of a family trying to deal with change is a resonant metaphor, and the music captures some common challenges in fresh and thought-provoking ways. The book by Leslie Buxbaum explores the joy and tension of familial and other relationships with compassion and a great deal of humor. Erin McKeown’s music (with lyrics by Buxbaum and McKeown) allows the audience to get to know the characters and share moments from years of their lives in around 90 minutes (the magic of “theater time”). Chay Yew’s production is fast-paced, uncluttered, funny, moving, and thoughtful. Though Out Here wisely avoids trying to tie up all loose ends, it leaves the audience with a lot of good questions to ponder.

Out Here runs through May 10 at Court Theatre, Wed/Thurs/Fri at 7:30pm, Sat/Sun at 2:00pm & 7:30pm.

This review is proudly shared with our friends at www.TheatreInChicago.com. 

Marriott Theatre’s Heartbreak Hotel takes on the tricky task of charting Elvis Presley’s early ascent, walking the line between the mythic figure we think we know and the unpolished young man still figuring out who he was becoming. What emerges is a brisk, music‑driven portrait that leans into the volatility of those formative years - the industry pressures that boxed him in, the personal crossroads that pushed him forward, and the creative sparks that hinted at the cultural earthquake to come. It’s a show less interested in polishing the legend than in capturing the restless drive of a talent on the verge of rewriting American music.

Heartbreak Hotel traces Elvis Presley’s early rise with a pace that stays brisk without ever feeling hurried, using a clever device: a ’68 Comeback‑era Elvis looking back on his younger selves. At times the man, the teen, and the 11‑year‑old boy share the stage simultaneously - singing, reminiscing, harmonizing - embodying a life moving faster than any one version of him can fully grasp. The musical follows Elvis from the tentative spark of his Sun Studio sessions into the glare of national attention, tracing how each new opportunity brings both momentum and complication. Producers, handlers, and well‑meaning advisors orbit him constantly, each with a different vision of who he should become, and the show uses those interactions to underline just how precarious his initial ascent really was.

As the demands of fame tighten around him, the story frames Elvis’s evolution as a series of choices - some instinctive, some imposed, all shaping the performer he’s still learning to be. Rather than digging for psychological depth, the plot focuses on the push‑and‑pull between artistic hunger and commercial pressure, capturing the uneasy transition from raw talent to cultural commodity. It’s a portrait of a young man standing at the edge of a seismic career, long before the iconography calcifies and the legend overtakes the life.

At the center of Heartbreak Hotel is Tyler Hanes playing Elvis Presley, who carries the show with a mix of youthful swagger and genuine vulnerability. His performance hinges not just on vocal accuracy but on capturing the restless, slightly bewildered energy of a young man being swept into stardom. His renditions of “Blue Suede Shoes” and “Heartbreak Hotel” land with the right mix of polish and rawness, and his quieter moments - particularly the early Sun Studio sequences and those paired with Priscilla - give the production its emotional grounding.

The show’s Colonel Tom Parker, portrayed by Rob Lindley, is the necessary counterweight: charming, calculating, and always two steps ahead. Lindley brings a slick, almost Vaudevillian charisma that keeps the character from slipping into caricature (although Parker may have been a caricature of himself anyway). His scenes pop with tension, especially in numbers where he orchestrates Elvis’s next move with a smile that never quite reaches his eyes.

Tyler Hanes as Elvis Presley (center) with ensemble in Heartbreak Hotel at Marriott Theatre.

The Sun Studio ensemble - the musicians, producers, and collaborators - provide some of the production’s most engaging textures. Jackson Evans, as Sam Phillips, is heavily featured in the first act and delivers one of the show’s standout performances, offering a steady, clear‑eyed presence that anchors the opening chapters with real artistic purpose. The play digs into Phillips’s instinct for raw talent - his uncanny ability to spot greatness beforehand - and makes clear that his relentless championing of Elvis is what first carried the young singer’s sound across Memphis and into the broader South. His work with the band digs deep and gives us an idea of Phillips’s impact in shaping a new kind of rock ‘n’ roll sound. Their group numbers in the studio, including “That’s All Right,” have an infectious looseness that contrasts sharply with the more commercialized performances later in the show.

The supporting cast adds essential color. Colton Sims offers a sharp, unaffected turn as Teen Elvis, capturing the raw spark before the polish sets in, and Charles Adler Bischoof, as young Elvis, brings a bright, unguarded innocence that reminds the audience just how early the legend began.

Elizabeth Telford lends Gladys Presley a quiet emotional weight, centering the story whenever she’s onstage. Anna Louise Bramlett brings an earnest warmth to Dixie, while Amanda Walker gives Priscilla a steady, grounded presence that subtly deepens the story.

In one of Heartbreak’s most exciting moments, Alexandra Palkovic takes control of the stage delivering a sleek, charismatic jolt as Ann-Margret, hinting at the whirlwind to come. Palkovic dances with real fire, echoing Ann‑Margret’s signature style with crisp precision and an infectious burst of energy. Palkovic later joins Hanes in one of the most touching moments when the two perform a beautiful rendition together of “You’re the Boss.” The addition of a full Ann‑Margret song‑and‑dance number feels especially meaningful, since her on‑screen chemistry with Elvis has always struck me as one of the high points of his physical and emotional vitality.  

Tyler Hanes as Elvis Presley and Alexandra Palkovic as Ann-Margret.

Karl Hamilton gives Vernon Presley a quiet, understated presence, and Naiqui Macabroad stands out in his multi‑role track - Johnny Bragg, Chuck, Jackie Brenston, and the producer for both Steve Allen and Ed Sullivan - slipping between characters with crisp versatility and welcome bursts of personality. Fredrick Webb Jr. also makes a strong impression in multiple roles, notably as Roy Brown, Otis Redding, Fats Domino, and throughout the ensemble.

Going back to the musicians, the live band is one of the show’s more memorable assets. With Jake Busse as Bill Black, Zac Richey as Scotty Moore, and Trevor Lindley Craft as Ronnie (pre-DJ Fontana days) forming the tight onstage trio, the musicians anchor the production with a sound that feels both authentic and freshly charged. Lindley Craft doubles as Frank Sinatra. He and Hanes deliver one of the evening’s highlights as they recreate the famous duet from Elvis’s post‑Army appearance on The Frank Sinatra Show - a stylish medley of “Love Me Tender” and “Witchcraft” that lands with effortless charm.

Melanie Brezil also brings a radiant spark to Sister Rosetta Tharpe, delivering her featured moment with bright, joyful command on both vocals and guitar.  

Together, the band’s instrumental work and the ensemble’s rich harmonies elevate the musical landscape. A mid‑show gospel sequence of “Peace in the Valley” – another one of this staging’s big moments - showcases the ensemble’s vocal power and reminds the audience of the musical traditions that shaped Presley long before fame did.

Marriott’s in‑the‑round setup gives Heartbreak Hotel an expansive energy, with action unfolding on all sides. The cast’s aisle work draws the audience in, creating a surprisingly immersive sense of scale, and the smart use of media and projections amplifies that impact even further. A staging in this intimate space gives the storytelling room to gather real thrust. That quality becomes especially clear as the sequences build toward the emotional high point, when Elvis finally sheds the cookie‑cutter movie image he’d long outgrown and reclaims his artistry in the ’68 Comeback Special, reestablishing his place as the King of Rock ’n’ Roll. 

I’ve always been drawn to stories orbiting Elvis Presley, and Heartbreak Hotel earns its place among them by honoring the legend without embalming him in nostalgia. Elvis wasn’t just a chart‑topper; he was a cultural accelerant, the artist who fused gospel, blues, country, and rhythm‑and‑blues into a sound that detonated across America and permanently rewired its musical DNA. His influence stretched far beyond the stage - reshaping fashion, performance style, youth identity, and the very idea of what a pop star could be. Productions like this one matter because they keep that seismic legacy in motion, passing it from one generation to the next not as a museum relic, but as a living, breathing force that still shapes the music we hear today.

When referring to rock 'n' roll, John Lennon said it himself, “Before Elvis, there was nothing.” Heartbreak Hotel echoes that sentiment.

Directed and choreographed by Deidre Goodwin, this musical bears the imprint of an artist who understands how to propel a story without letting the spectacle swallow it. Her direction shapes the evening with a steady, purposeful rhythm, keeping the focus tight even as the musical numbers expand outward. Goodwin’s fantastic choreography blends period flavor with a clean, contemporary precision, giving the show a kinetic pulse that feels both rooted in its era and alive in the present. It’s her sense of balance - between nostalgia and freshness, between narrative drive and musical release - that ultimately gives the production its lift.

Elvis devotees will find plenty to appreciate in Heartbreak Hotel, which treats the King’s formative years and artistic rebirth with genuine affection and a clear understanding of his musical legacy. But the show’s appeal stretches well beyond Presley fandom; anyone who loves American music - from gospel and blues to early rock and soul - will recognize the joy in hearing these sounds brought to life by a superbly talented cast and band. Heartbreak Hotel runs through June 2nd at Marriott Theatre and is an exciting musical experience well worth attending. 

For tickets and/or more show information, click here. 

This review is proudly shared with our friends at www.TheatreInChicago.com. 

Depending on the source, Bat Out of Hell ranks among the top‑selling albums of all time, so its eventual leap to the stage in 2017 felt almost inevitable. Written by Jim Steinman and performed by Meat Loaf, the album’s grandiose ‘70s sound hardly suggests a post‑apocalyptic narrative, yet that’s the unexpected framing audiences encounter here. Meat Loaf’s music has always thrived on high‑energy rock‑opera theatrics  - a powerhouse voice wrapped in oversized emotion and unapologetic melodrama -  so while this storyline wouldn’t have been my first guess for a theatrical adaptation, it surprisingly fits. What works especially well is the way the show taps into the romantic rebellion that defined his performances, echoing the presence of an artist who approached each number as a miniature piece of theatre.

For its one‑night‑only performance at the Auditorium Theatre, Bat Out of Hell - The Musical opens with a confident burst of energy, pairing Steinman’s masterful songbook with a theatrical approach that’s more measured than its reputation suggests. Rather than presenting Meat Loaf’s iconic album as a straightforward rock spectacle, the creative team leans into the material’s operatic sweep and dystopian romance, shaping it into a visually engaging and musically cohesive piece of rock theatre. In the Auditorium’s spacious setting, the cinematic staging and amplified aesthetic settle in comfortably, allowing the show’s size to register without overwhelming the story at its center.

Set in the neon‑lit sprawl of post-doomsday Obsidian, Bat Out of Hell - The Musical centers on the charged relationship between Strat (Conor Crowley) - the eternally young leader of a band of renegade teens known as The Lost - and Raven (Carly Burns), the sheltered daughter of the city’s iron‑fisted ruler, Falco (Travis Cloer). Strat moves through a world shaped by rebellion and restless freedom, while Raven has grown up behind barricades built as much from fear as from concrete. Caught between them is Sloane (Tori Kocher), Falco’s long‑suffering wife, whose presence adds a more human counterpoint to the household’s rigid control. Their intersecting tensions spark a collision between desire and authority, youth and power, with Steinman’s sweeping rock anthems amplifying every emotional turn.

As Strat and Raven navigate the risks of their forbidden bond, the story widens to reveal the fractures within Falco and Sloane’s marriage - a counterpoint that exposes the weight of time, compromise, and regret. Meanwhile, The Lost struggle to hold onto their identity in a city determined to contain them. The narrative unfolds less as a traditional plot than as an atmospheric journey, laced with youthful rebellion and driven by Steinman’s music, which propels the characters through a world where love becomes both an act of defiance and a means of survival.

The show’s design builds around Steinman’s biggest showstoppers, threading them through the narrative with the kind of theatrical sweep that has long defined his work. Signature numbers such as “Bat Out of Hell,” “I’d Do Anything for Love (But I Won’t Do That),” “Two Out of Three Ain’t Bad,” and “Paradise by the Dashboard Light,” delivered with standout vocals and sizzle from Travis Cloer and Tori Kocher, form the musical backbone of the evening, each landing with the scale and intensity fans expect. Rather than serving as simple nostalgia cues, these songs shape the emotional architecture of the production, driving its crescendos and giving the story much of its momentum. Their presence underscores just how enduring - and theatrically adaptable - Steinman’s catalog remains.

As the production’s central pair, Conor Crowley and Carly Burns offer grounded, complementary performances as Strat and Raven. Crowley brings a clear vocal presence and an easy confidence to the role, while Burns provides a calm, steady counterpoint that helps shape the emotional arc of their scenes together. Their dynamic feels natural and unforced, giving the story a solid center without overpowering the production’s broader stylistic choices.

Production phot of Bat Out of Hell - The Musical by Chris Davis Studio 2

The ensemble moves with an easy rhythmic cohesion, offering strong vocal moments that add texture and dimension to Jay Scheib’s vision. Their presence helps fill out the world of Obsidian, giving the production momentum even when the staging remains intentionally spare. Scheib’s use of a live onstage cameraman adds another layer, capturing close‑up details that are projected onto two large overhead screens and lending the performance a subtle filmic quality. The choice works on both a practical and stylistic level, allowing the show to shift between the intimacy of the camera lens and the broader sweep of the stage. What initially feels like a distraction quickly becomes part of the visual language of the production, blending in so seamlessly that the cameraman all but disappears from notice.

The physical world of Bat Out of Hell - The Musical unfolds across a vast industrial landscape that captures the fractured, glow‑soaked atmosphere of Obsidian. The set itself is relatively simple, but the production makes sharp use of dynamic lighting to build atmosphere, scale, and momentum. A towering network of platforms, staircases, and metal scaffolding creates a vertical playground where the cast can vault between levels and stage the show’s most high‑energy moments. One of these platforms houses the live band, led by Greg Paladino, whose presence adds both immediacy and a welcome sense of rock‑concert authenticity.

Bat Out of Hell threads its spectacle with clear symbolic beats: The Lost, frozen in age, embody youth suspended between rebellion and stagnation, while Obsidian’s crumbling, fluorescent‑hazed skyline reflects a society shaped by fear and control. Strat and Raven’s romance becomes a tug‑of‑war between liberation and confinement, and Falco’s fortress stands in for every system determined to hold change at bay. Even the production’s constant motion suggests a world enthralled by spectacle yet uneasy with evolution.

It’s gratifying to see that the legacy of Jim Steinman and Meat Loaf continues to reach new audiences, while also resonating with longtime fans - some of whom sing along to every word of certain songs throughout the performance. The material’s larger‑than‑life sound remains a recognizable cultural marker, and this musical now holds a distinct place for many who appreciate the intersection of rock and musical theatre.

In the end, Bat Out of Hell - The Musical isn’t aiming for subtlety, but that’s part of its charm. It delivers an energetic surge powered by Steinman and Meat Loaf’s expansive songbook and a cast that commits fully to every moment. The storyline undoubtedly edges into corniness here and there, yet it matters little when the production is this unabashedly fun - and the sheer force of the music makes the ride worthwhile on its own.

The bat may well fly back again someday, but for now, Bat Out of Hell - The Musical arrived as a one‑night‑only event. For more information, visit https://batoutofhellmusical.com/.

This review is proudly shared with our friends at www.TheatreInChicago.com. 

Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Cats remains one of musical theatre’s most distinctive creations - a sung‑through, dance‑driven spectacle that swaps traditional plot for atmosphere, character portraits, and pure theatrical immersion. Drawn from T. S. Eliot’s Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats, the musical unfolds as a moonlit gathering of the Jellicle tribe, each feline stepping forward to claim the spotlight before the climactic “Jellicle Choice,” when one is chosen for rebirth into the Heaviside Layer – a new life. Its unconventional structure, eclectic score, and iconic choreography helped define the mega-musical era, earning Cats major awards and record‑breaking runs in both London and New York. And now it’s here!

To kick off their 2026 season, Music Theater Works brings Cats to the North Theatre in the North Shore Center for the Performing Arts, offering Chicago audiences a fresh trip into the Jellicle universe. It’s the perfect time to pounce on this legendary musical - whether you’re drawn by its nostalgia, its high‑energy movement, or the simple delight of watching a community of cats chase belonging and second chances.

Cats has always been one of my very favorite Andrew Lloyd Webber musicals, and revisiting it reminds me why. Its blend of atmosphere, movement, and character‑driven storytelling creates a world that feels both whimsical and strangely profound – a world that is so easy to get lost in.

What continues to give Cats its staying power is the blend of spectacle and emotional resonance. While much of the evening plays as a parade of emotionally grounded ensemble-anchored numbers - playful, mischievous, or grand - the heart of the piece rests with Grizabella (magnificently played in this production by Ava Lane Stovall), the faded glamour cat whose ballad “Memory” became a global standard. The production’s emphasis on movement, atmosphere, and immersive world‑building over traditional linear storytelling makes Cats both polarizing and unforgettable, and its decades‑long staying power proves just how deeply that approach resonates across generations. Music Theater Works captures that essence beautifully, channeling the show’s dreamlike logic and ritualistic energy in a way that feels both faithful and freshly imagined.

Astutely directed and choreographed by Mandy Modic, Music Theater Works makes inventive use of the North Shore Center’s intimate space, transforming nearly every nook and cranny into part of the Jellicle playground. The result is a production where activity seems to spark from every direction, creating a sense of constant motion that borders on ingenious. From the moment the show begins - after a playful prelude of cat videos on a large TV - the cast emerges in the dark, parading down the aisles with glowing cat‑eye glasses that immediately pull the audience into their world. Throughout the performance, strategically placed perches and platforms scattered around the theater keep the action mere inches away, giving some audience members the rare thrill of being fully surrounded by the Jellicle tribe. Though I’ve seen Cats countless times in both the Chicagoland area and New York, this production may well be the one that connected with me the most.

(Center) Ethan Lupp as “Rum Tum Tugger” and members of the cast of CATS in CATS from Music Theater Works, now playing through March 29 at the North Shore Center for the Performing Arts in Skokie.

Sam Nachison brings a commanding warmth to Old Deuteronomy, balancing authority with compassion and grounding the production with a rich, resonant baritone in his self‑titled number. Stovall, meanwhile, delivers a vocally commanding, show‑stopping “Memory” in Act II - an emotional high point that pierced my heart and gave me chills. But what truly elevates this production is how deep the talent runs throughout the ensemble. Whether it’s the big, full‑company showstoppers, the sly, feline physicality woven into every corner of the stage, or the sheer joy of numbers like “Magical Mister Mistoffelees,” the cast proves endlessly engaging. Group sequences such as “Jellicle Songs for Jellicle Cats” and “Journey to the Heaviside Layer” showcase a company working in complete synchronicity, creating moment after moment that dazzles. The memorable beats are as abundant as the cats roaming the theater, each one adding to a production overflowing with energy, precision, and charm.

Throughout the performance, I found myself drawn to different performers at different moments, captivated by their vocals, their movement, and the sheer feline energy they brought to the stage. The ensemble’s commitment was so complete that no matter where I looked, someone was doing something compelling, clever, or beautifully in character. That sense of constant discovery carried straight into the show’s physical feats - from aerial acrobatics to Morgan Schoenecker’s crisp tap breaks as Jennyanydots and even the unexpected skating sequences led by Danny Spagnuolo as Skimbleshanks - making the production a steady stream of surprises. Add in the constant, playful eye contact from cats prancing through the aisles, and every moment feels enchanting - alive with movement, mischief, and immersive detail.

Nick Johnson’s Munkustrap grounds the entire production with a steady, commanding presence, guiding the ensemble and shaping the rhythm of the evening. He moves through the show with an effortless authority - part narrator, part guardian - setting both the emotional and musical pace while keeping the Jellicle world anchored. In doing so, he opens the door for the production’s standout moments to land with even greater impact - and never far from that spotlight is Emma Jean Eastlund’s Bombalurina, slipping in with charisma and precision alongside the rest of the talented ensemble.

Ava Lane Stovall as “Grizabella” in CATS from Music Theater Works. Phots by Brett Beiner.

Another moment that stayed with me was John Cardone’s moving rendition of “Gus: The Theatre Cat.” As Asparagus, he delivers this bittersweet, nostalgic reflection of an aging performer looking back on the glory days of his career. The ache of the number comes from the gap between who Gus once was and who he has become - an actor with a shabby coat, trembling paws, and memories of a time when he was the “terror to mice.” Cardone leans into that fragility with such sincerity that the song lands as both a tribute and a quiet heartbreak.

And from that intimate moment, the production expands back into the vibrant world of the Jellicles. The cats themselves are incredible - brought to life with remarkable clarity thanks to the production’s outstanding creative team. Much of that magic stems from the meticulous work of hair, wig, and makeup designers Megan E. Pirtle and Melanie Saso, whose transformations give each performer a distinct feline identity, and from the richly textured costumes crafted by kClare McKellaston and wardrobe head Kristen Brinati, which add depth, personality, and visual cohesion to the entire tribe. Together, their contributions shape a world so vivid and fully realized that the characters feel as if they’ve stepped straight out of Eliot’s imagination and into the audience’s laps. Credit belongs to every corner of the creative team, from scenic design to sound to lighting, all working together to shape an atmosphere that feels nothing short of Jellicle heaven. Their combined artistry turns the space into a fully realized world - mystical, inviting, and alive with detail - so the audience is immersed from the moment the first cat appears. Every technical element works in harmony to envelop the audience in this moonlit world - sets that invite exploration, sound that wraps around the room, and lighting that shifts the space from mystical to electric in an instant. The result is a production that manages to be both haunting and joyfully alive, lingering in the imagination long after the final note.

What I appreciated most about this rich and colorful production is how it reflects the moment we’re living in. At a time when the world feels unsteady, we’re each our own special kind of “cat,” carrying unique talents and flaws, and offering up our personal histories - our triumphs and our losses to each other our fellow "cats" - as the curtain of world seems to be falling around us. Yet, in that shared vulnerability, we find the strength to realize that as long as we keep supporting one another, the light never truly goes out.

Purr‑fect, meow‑velous, pawsitively delightful, downright meow‑gical - take your pick! Every one of them fits this production like a cat in a sunbeam.

Music Theatre Works’ Cats is being performed at the North Theatre in the North Shore Center for the Performing Arts through March 29^th. For tickets and/or more show information visit https://www.musictheaterworks.com/2026-season/cats/.

Highly Recommended.

This review is proudly shared with our friends at www.TheatreInChicago.com.