The film begins with a reunion of Dr. Howard Schubiner’s first group of participants who worked through the program of how to release the mind of its pain producing patterns. I am hooked within the first five minutes and cannot look away for the next 80 minutes. The participants represent various parts of my life experience including pain, fatigue, headaches, and decreased ability to work. The participants also represent other experiences I do not encounter such as daily pain killers including narcotics and over-the-counter medications to attempt to alleviate the pain.
Gabe weaves himself into the fabric of life, tearing its skin layer by layer. He doesn’t shy away from the dare life throws at him. Instead, he picks up the stones and launches them back. “My experiences have taught me to enjoy every moment of your life, be patient and never give up hope,” he says. “Being a strong person has nothing to do with muscles. It has to do with having the will, determination, and courage to never give up hope.”
SPORK! Contributor Sarah Bowden brings her biographical (and autobiographical) spoken word masterpiece to Chicago stages again, as part of the 2020 Rhinofest.
The play presents the scenario without comment, which can be infuriating from an audience perspective. To know something is amiss about these relationships, but finding validation nowhere can feel like gaslighting. However, directors Mary Kate Ashe and Aaron Sawyer pick up on the subtle creeping horror of modern heteronormativity and family bonds by employing two modes of communication and double casting.
WARNING: CONTAINS SPOILERS TO A QUIET PLACE
Krasinski and his crew put a special emphasis on sound in A Quiet Place, working to capture the natural rush of waving corn stalks and the beat of strategic steps on soft earth. But the director plays with his audience as well, planting us in Regan’s perspective mere minutes into the film. As the family treks home from the pharmacy, the soundtrack drops out, leaving behind only a microphone hum, and we experience Regan’s hearing loss for ourselves. It is peaceful. We are reoriented to the visual cues surrounding her, to the attention she gives her parents, to the beauty of the rural landscape. But we also see a danger she did not anticipate, simply because it is happening behind her back.
Performers in this production learned clowning fundamentals, sign language, and in many cases they acted as interpreters for their stage counterparts. The commitment to inclusion for performers and audience members of all abilities is groundbreaking for Chicago, and inspiring to be a part of, even if it’s just to learn the symbol for ‘alone’ (an index finger held at chest level) or being asked by a woodland mutant to hold onto their signed letter ‘G’ as they distribute Red’s love letters.
In ‘World Builders’, Max (Andrew Cutler) and Whitney (Carmen Molina) are in treatment for a shared personality disorder that renders them both fixated on internal worlds of their own creation. Alone they are socially isolated, focused so much on the maintenance of their private internal retreats that they may be a danger to themselves, but they’re brought together for an experimental treatment designed to quell their internal worlds until they fade away.
It’s a rare, powerful thing to experience an authentic difference in ability in the titular Richard, or to see the disparaging remarks levied on him by friends and enemies directed to an actor that may have a passing familiarity. Rare and powerful is exactly how I’d describe The Gift Theatre’s “Richard III”. This production does more than entertain, it empowers us to demand more representation of long under-represented artists from the theater we see.
Once in a great while, a stage production makes a fantastic impression and the daunting work behind it seems almost effortless. Goodman Theatre’s “The Matchmaker” is charming, delightful and homespun, but for a comedy penned in the 1950’s, this particular telling has a remarkable 2016-era social consciousness. This “Matchmaker” features a cast that is diverse in age, gender, ethnicity and ability, and takes a certain delight in creating an ensemble that is unique and unlikely.
This production features both deaf and hearing actors, super titles for some more intricate exchanges, and interpreters as needed for audience members. The concept that Sawyer and Bauer have concocted involves more than just comprehension; they want to immerse every person in the history, culture and stigmas of deafness.
