Las Migas Credit: Courtesy of International Latino Cultural Center
Las Migas incorporate surprising but unmistakable Latin American cadences into tight vocal harmonies framed by Spanish folk–inspired violin and guitar, and occasionally punctuate their songs with full-throated flamenco howls. The versatile Barcelona collective was founded in 2004 by students of the city’s prestigious Escola Superior de Música de Catalunya in order to explore music that stems from flamenco. Six albums—including this year’s Latin Grammy–nominated Rumberas—and several lineup changes later, the group continues to push the boundaries of the style, often blending elements of pop and hip-hop with traditional folk sounds. Founder and sole remaining original member Marta Robles has steered the group through myriad changes, keeping their vision and spirit front and center in songs that center a woman’s perspective.
On Rumberas, Robles, Carolina “La Chispa” Fernández, Laura Pacios, and Alicia Grillo mingle their roots from the Cataluña, Extremadura, La Mancha, and Galicia regions while exploring Cuban rumba’s influence on Spanish flamenco and folk music. Las Migas’ joyful odes to liberation and take-no-prisoners approach have drawn them an international audience, and in recent years, have made them icons of Spanish and Latin American LGBTQ+ communities. As they sing on their 2022 single “La Cantaora” (“The Singer”), featuring María Peláe (one of the few openly lesbian Spanish flamenco artists): “My song doesn’t seek redemption, nor to be submissive / Nor does it want my heart to ask for permission.”
Las Migas Fri 11/15, 7 PM, Myron R. Szold Music & Dance Hall, Old Town School of Folk Music, 4545 N. Lincoln, $45, $43 members, all ages
Detroit techno producer and DJ Marcellus Pittman can completely alter the chemistry of a song with an understated melody. This is part of what made him such a good collaborator in 3 Chairs, a defunct Detroit supergroup that also featured Theo Parrish, Rick Wilhite, and Kenny Dixon Jr. (aka Moodymann). Pittman brings subtle flamboyance to his recent Eastside EP, released in March by Adeen. He transforms the feel of the insistent percussive thump on “You Always Hank Bank One Time” by adding sideways accents or pattern-breaking flourishes to its sneaky, tiptoeing keyboard vamps—or by flat-out replacing them with 20 seconds of glassy oscillations.
Marcellus Pittman Father Dukes, CtrlZora, and Vitigrrl open. Sat 11/16, 10 PM, Smart Bar, 3730 N. Clark, $20, $15 with student ID, $15–$20 in advance, 21+
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Leor Galil (he/him) started writing for the Chicago Reader in 2010. He joined the staff in 2012 and became a senior staff writer in 2020.
Galil mainly covers music, with a singular focus on Chicago artists, scenes, and phenomena.
He’s won a handful of journalism awards; he’s won two first-place awards from the Association of Alternative Newsmedia (for music writing in 2020 and arts feature in 2022) and a Peter Lisagor award (for Best Arts Reporting and Criticism in 2022).
Galil lives in Chicago. He speaks English and can be contacted at [email protected].
As Fingy, Chicago producer and DJ Natalie Finfer creates a refined new setting for pop’s sugary hooks and maximalist euphoria. Her chill tracks draw from the same wells as deep house and neosoul. In July, she dropped “Neck Hair,” a single off the forthcoming self-released EP Forgive Me, Indefinitely, which demonstrates her seemingly magical talent for pulling you into a groove with an inviting mood. The track begins with a quiet, glassy synth that ripples like a pond disturbed by a carefully timed series of falling droplets, and those tones continue through the entire song—their gentle pace persists even as Finfer adds layers of hushed, bustling percussion and a gently palpitating bass line. New Jersey alt-R&B singer Bymaddz provides a sumptuous melody that connects the serene synth to the blood-stirring beat. For much of Forgive Me, Indefinitely, Finfer coaxes tranquil sounds into tense buildups without ever providing a clear cathartic release, and this lends a heightened energy even to the EP’s whispers.
Fingy This event is billed as a “listening experience” for Fingy’s new EP. Sun 11/17, 9 PM, Empty Bottle, 1035 N. Western, free with RSVP, 21+
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Upcoming shows to have on your radar.
Leor Galil (he/him) started writing for the Chicago Reader in 2010. He joined the staff in 2012 and became a senior staff writer in 2020.
Galil mainly covers music, with a singular focus on Chicago artists, scenes, and phenomena.
He’s won a handful of journalism awards; he’s won two first-place awards from the Association of Alternative Newsmedia (for music writing in 2020 and arts feature in 2022) and a Peter Lisagor award (for Best Arts Reporting and Criticism in 2022).
Galil lives in Chicago. He speaks English and can be contacted at [email protected].
Johnson City, Tennessee, singer-songwriter Amythyst Kiah has found passion and purpose through representation in folk and roots music for more than a decade. The Chattanooga born, self-described “proud Black Appalachian” has often used her poetic guitar- and banjo-heavy songs to explore identity and find understanding, whether embracing herself as a Black queer southern artist (“Black Myself”) or coming to grips with her mother’s death by suicide (“Wild Turkey”). Her music incorporates a broad mix of influences culled from country, blues, folk, and rock, and she embeds each song with pride and pain using her soul-stirring voice.
Kiah found her musical roots in church hymns, modern rock (she’s covered songs by Radiohead and Joy Division), and explorations of America’s musical heritage and its foundation in the work of Black creators. Those interests led her to enroll in East Tennessee State University, where she earned a degree in bluegrass, old-time, and country music studies, and made her 2013 debut album Dig in the school’s recording lab. Six years later, she captured national attention as a member of Our Native Daughters alongside fellow folk heavyweights Rhiannon Giddens, Leyla McCalla, and Allison Russell. The success of their 2019 debut album, Songs of Our Native Daughters, which explores Black women’s resistance and hope in the face of racism and sexism, earned Kiah her first Grammy nomination and led to her 2021 debut at the Grand Ole Opry.
Kiah’s latest album, October’s Still + Bright continues to push folk music forward. On the rock-and-bluegrass union, “I Will Not Go Down,” her finger-picking style and vocals find a perfect match in guest singer and guitarist Billy Strings, while her duet with Kentucky singer-songwriter S.G. Goodman, “Play God and Destroy the World,” puts a soulful sheen on alt-country. Folk fiddle and mandolin dominate “Space,” while the fuzzed out “Die Slowly Without Complaint,” featuring vocals from Pentatonix’s Avi Kaplan, bleeds southern gothic. Punk fans will note Rancid vocalist Tim Armstrong’s pipes on “People’s Prayer,” while Butch Walker duets with Kiah on gothic love song “Silk and Petals.” Walker, who’s best known for his work with Taylor Swift and Weezer, among other artists, also produced Still + Bright, and while he tapped into her fire and spirit, she remains the keeper of the flame—and her flame burns bright.
The man in power is an entitled rich dude with a blond pompadour, a loose relationship with the truth, and a stunning wife that he regularly cheats on. Donald Trump? What would make you think that? We are talking here about Count Almaviva in Mozart’s 1786 opera The Marriage of Figaro, now onstage at Lyric Opera.
Yes, the vote is in, and what we can count on for sure is four more years of groan-worthy but irresistible Trump references.
The Marriage of Figaro Through 11/30: Wed 11/13 7 PM, Sun 11/17 2 PM, Tue 11/19 7 PM, Thu 11/21 2 PM, Sun 11/24 2 PM, Wed 11/27 2 PM, Sat 11/30 7:30 PM; audio description, touch tour, and sound shirt Sun 11/17, audio description Sun 11/24; Lyric Opera, 20 N. Wacker, 312-827-5600, lyricopera.org, $59-$355, in Italian with English supertitles
Like our leader-elect, the Count relies on more or less loyal staff and allies to do his bidding, notably his valet, Figaro. The Count is also much more transactional than steadfast. For example, having formerly opposed a longstanding rule that was an outrageous violation of the rights of women, he blithely flips and seeks to enforce it when it serves his own purposes.
In the Count’s case, the rule is the antiquated “droit du seigneur” or right of the lord of the manor to spend the wedding night with the bride of any of his subjects. The bride is Susanna, his wife’s maid and Figaro’s betrothed. The entire opera takes place on their wedding day.
Of course, the opera’s a farce, so there can’t be any parallel to current reality.
It’s also three-and-a-half hours long (including one intermission). For audiences who couldn’t go home and put the record on, that must have been a good thing. In our faster-paced, electronically-enabled age, and in spite of Mozart’s brilliant and nuanced score, it could drag in spots. That’s likely what inspired director Barbara Gaines, founder and former artistic director at Chicago Shakespeare Theater, to pack this production (which premiered at Lyric in 2015) with eye candy in the form of nonstop antic stage business and popsicle-colored, over-the-top costumes by Susan Mickey. James Noone’s sets, in contrast, are minimalist, but just as arch—a few statues or chandeliers (or a huge bed), set against a weird, bland swoop of wood paneling that has its own surprising comic moment. Supertitles by Colin Ure update and condense Lorenzo Da Ponte’s libretto to spiky modern vernacular.
The source for this “opera buffa,” which rather gently jabs the aristocracy, was a more sharply political comedy—a 1778 play, The Crazy Day or the Marriage of Figaro, by Pierre-Augustin Beaumarchais that is said to have helped spark the French Revolution.
The current production features two sublime sopranos: Ying Fang, as the savvy servant Susanna, and Federica Lombardi as the regal but distraught Countess. Their class-bridging sisterhood drives the opera’s convoluted plot and their voices (memorably blending in the second act “letter” duet), provide the most transporting moments in a production that’s well-sung all around.
Bass-baritone Gordon Bintner seems like a natural as the rascally Count, as does bass-baritone Peter Kellner as his servant-class counterpart, Figaro. Mezzo-soprano Kayleigh Decker is the hormonally-distracted and adorable pageboy, Cherubino. Bass-baritone Nicholas Newton as Dr. Bartolo and mezzo-soprano Sarah Mesko as Susanna’s would-be rival, Marcellina, get to reveal the opera’s funniest secret. Guest conductor Erina Yashima (a former CSO apprentice) leads the Lyric Opera Orchestra and chorus.
There’s a glorious happy ending. Let’s hope.
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Zedrick “Cariño” Alfredo Aurelio “wasn’t a filmmaker,” according to his childhood friend Salvador Salazar. “He was something better.”
Before passing away at age 26 from adenoid cystic carcinoma in 2021, Aurelio was instrumental in supporting his friends who had filmmaking aspirations, whether it meant lending a car, picking up props and furniture, or making sure the team of teenage moviemakers had breakfast while decorating sets at 6 AM. “We know what that kind of support does for your confidence at those ages,” says Salazar. “That’s what we want to provide for the kids that participate in our festival.”
Aurelio is the namesake of the third annual Cariño Festival de Cine, showcasing emerging filmmakers (ages 13–26) on November 15 and 16 at the OPEN Center for the Arts. Aurelio’s brother, Andres, and Salazar cofounded the festival to honor his supportive legacy. The festival partners with film programs throughout the city to support the continuation of the annual event, as well as to connect the young filmmakers with internship and networking opportunities to enable continued film education and careers.
Cariño Festival de Cine 2024 Fri 11/15 and Sat 11/16, OPEN Center for the Arts, 2214 S. Sacramento, free, register to reserve your spot opencenterforthearts.square.site/carino-festival-de-cine
This year’s program features ten short films that exhibit an impressive range of talent and imagination through a mix of narrative and experimental approaches. Simon Finkel’s Brushstrokes utilizes colorization and special effects for a whimsical short reminiscent of the imagery in The Wizard of Oz (1939)and the adult-child mentorship present in some of Hayao Miyazaki’s films. Chris Derek Van’s After Love and Isis Gullette’s So There’s This Girl both feature queer relationships, utilizing the city as scenery in different ways: Chicago’s cityscape in the former carries a longing melancholy as we watch fog cut across skyscrapers and a deep blue sky, while the latter’s open parks and vibrant greenery ground us in the opportunity and innocence of new feelings.
Space and place are notable in the works of these young filmmakers, whether featuring Chicago’s neighborhoods—like in Run, Devin Briseno’s caper about the search for an envelope of money—or CTA tunnels, as in Haoshu Sascha Deng’s Tunnel Vision, a visual poem shot on film.
Leo Salgado’s The Fourth of July juxtaposes prayer candles against fireworks to ruminate on grief. In Don Chingón, directed by Carlos Lerma, fireworks punctuate a heartfelt ending to the comical odyssey of searching for good Mexican food in Chicago. Lerma’s protagonist proudly concludes, “The saying should be: ‘Home is where you take it,’ because I take mine everywhere with me.” And Don Chingón isn’t the only film in the program that uses editing to convey the feeling of existing in multiple spaces at once. Yanely Castellanos’s DAYDREAMERS is a sisterly tale of transporting to another place through playtime imagination, and Raine Yung’s I Can No Longer See, a collection of experimental shorts made between 2021 and 2023, employs cinematic collage to show the dissection and scattering of personal identity and expectations.
This may not be the first time Chicago audiences have had a chance to watch these films—many of them were featured at Cinema/Chicago’s CineYouth festival earlier this year—but true to Aurelio’s legacy, the Cariño Festival de Cine is not only an opportunity for exhibition, but a celebration of community. “Cinema has never really been attached to a place,” Salazar says in regard to the festival’s unconventional home at OPEN in Little Village. “We’re right in the heart of Little Village, in a place that no one would really think would show films. We also require the filmmakers to have Spanish subtitles so that the audience from the neighborhood can come in—not all of them speak English—and can enjoy the movies as well.” The tenth film programmed at the festival is the premiere of One Lawndale, a short film made by students as part of the One Summer Chicago program. While the cohort features mostly North Lawndale and Little Village students, the film is a cross-city collaboration of youth connected by their love of film.
Salazar believes that cinema is not about the space it’s shown in, but the films themselves and the people watching them. He references the Martin Scorsese quote: “Cinema is a matter of what’s in the frame and what’s out.”
True to Aurelio’s legacy, the Cariño Festival de Cine is not only an opportunity for exhibition, but a celebration of community.
The local film community will be represented by the festival jury, composed of industry professionals including Rebecca Fons (Gene Siskel Film Center), Susanne Suffredin (DePaul University), Jeffrey Gabriel Silva (filmmaker, Chicago Latino Film Festival), Magdalena Hernández (Cutters Studios), and Deidre Searcy (Facets). On day one of the festival, the jury panel will provide live critique, culminating in the awards ceremony presenting $300 cash prizes and internship opportunities. Day two of the festival will include hands-on community programming inspired by Laura Sáenz’s film Artista, produced by Full Spectrum Features. Activities include a screening of Artista, a map-making workshop, a bilingual panel discussion about the role of the arts in parenting and education, and a listening party that will feature stories from Chicago teaching artists and educators.
Zedrick “Cariño” Alfredo Aurelio wasn’t a filmmaker, but the Cariño Festival de Cine is emblematic of the life he lived. “I hope that the students that are participating in our program feel that unconditional love that [Zedrick] provided for us, and that they feel as part of his legacy as we are,” says Salazar. “He was just a good person. We need more of those.”
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Seeing Writers Theatre’s current production of Every Brilliant Thing on opening night three days after the election hit harder than it might have otherwise done. Duncan Macmillan’s 2013 solo play, which started life at the Ludlow Fringe Festival in the UK, is about literally listing the things that make life worth living (everything from “ice cream” to “completing a task”). Originally performed by Jonny Donahoe (who is credited as coauthor), this is the show’s second appearance on Chicago stages, after the Windy City Playhouse 2019 outing. It feels even more essential now.
Every Brilliant Thing Through 1/5/2025: Wed–Fri 7:30 PM, Sat 3 and 7:30 PM; Sun 2 and 6 PM; also Wed 11/13, 11/20, and 12/11 3 PM; no show Sun 6 PM 11/17, 11/24, and 12/15; open captions Thu 11/14; Writers Theatre, 325 Tudor Ct., Glencoe, 847-242-6000, writerstheatre.org, $70
Jessie Fisher, under Kimberly Senior’s direction, is our guide through the show’s 70 minutes, which takes place in the company’s smaller Gillian Theatre, transformed into a cozy backyard patio by set designer Izumi Inaba. Audience members (some of whom are seated onstage) are handed slips of paper to chime in with items on “the list”—created by the narrator as a young child in response to her mother’s attempt to end her own life. As she grows, we see how her mother’s depression has marked her own path through life and her own difficulties in forming close relationships. “The list” becomes a group project, added to over the years by friends.
The show doesn’t shy away from sadness and grief (and at one point, offers some helpful advice for how to frame discussions around suicide). But Fisher’s beguiling performance—aided by audience volunteers who stand in for the narrator’s dad, school therapist, college lit professor, and spouse—creates a room for us to collectively think about what lights our way when it feels like the entire world is blinding us. “We have to imagine a future that’s better than our past,” she says at one point. A tall order these days, but a good reminder that getting through it together with compassionate souls is the starting point.
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Reader reviews of Chicago theater, dance, comedy, and performance arts.
Court and TimeLine partner for a vibrant and touching revival of a musical from the early days of the AIDS pandemic.
America’s tragedy, onstage at Lyric Opera
Sweet Gwen Suite makes its company premiere alongside work by Aszure Barton, Lar Lubovitch, and Kyle Abraham.
Marriott’s White Christmas captures the seasonal spirit.
Sofa King Queer is a rousing pop-punk musical.
Pilot Island & Her Keepers tells a captivating tale about a real lighthouse.
Kerry Reid (she/her) has been the theater and dance editor at the Chicago Reader since 2019.
Graduating from Columbia College in 1987, she worked with several off-Loop theater companies before beginning her arts journalism career by writing pro bono for Streetwise.
She spent most of the 90s in San Francisco, writing about theater for Backstage West and the East Bay Express, among other publications, and returned to Chicago in 2000.
Reid was a freelance critic for the Chicago Tribune for 17 years, and has also contributed to several other publications, including Windy City Times, Chicago Magazine, Playbill, American Theatre, and the Village Voice.
She taught reviewing and arts journalism at Columbia and is currently adjunct faculty at the Theatre School at DePaul University.
In a past life, Reid also wrote about ten plays or performance pieces. She is a member of the American Theatre Critics Association and the recipient of two 2020 Lisagor Awards.
Reid lives in Rogers Park. She speaks English and is reachable at [email protected].
The Moviegoer is the diary of a local film buff, collecting the best of what Chicago’s independent and underground film scene has to offer.
Elaine May’s Mikey and Nicky (1976) is a tragic love story between two men that shows what happens when their decades-old friendship is threatened by machismo. It is, in my opinion, one of the definitive depictions of toxic masculinity in cinema, especially because it was written and directed by a woman, and even more so because May is one of the top chroniclers of flagrant chauvinism.
It was a subject top-of-mind this past week as the world was thrust yet again into another four years of darkness with Trump winning the election. When I saw A New Leaf (1971) two weekends ago at the Music Box Theatre, I was relatively hopeful (at least for a situation that didn’t involve Trump, with full acknowledgement that there was a lot left to be desired with the Democrats); after Tuesday, it felt both daunting and appropriate to be going to see Mikey and Nicky, an absolute tour de forlorn and an endurance test of despair.
A still from Mikey and Nicky (1976) Credit: Music Box Theatre
The titular duo is played by Peter Falk and John Cassavetes, respectively. Many compare the film to those Cassavetes made, and while it has some similarities, I think May’s film is somehow darker and even more cognizant of the protagonist’s personal failings. Mikey and Nicky are part of a crime syndicate; Cassavetes’s Nicky is in hot water after stealing money from their boss, after which he calls Falk’s Mickey, his friend of 30 years who he’s outpaced in their gangster social circle but who still comes to his aid as he attempts to outrun the consequences of his actions.
It’s revealed early on in the course of their night together that Mikey has turned on him—routinely notifying a syndicate hit man of their location—all to get back at Nicky for leaving him behind and in an effort to get ahead himself. Outside of the broad parallels between toxic masculinity and everything happening now, I can’t pinpoint exactly why the film evoked for me other parallels between the current situation but to say that this attitude of selfishness and the forsaking of cherished interpersonal relationships seems representative of the current issues plaguing our society (even in opposite ways, as many of those now most in support of Trump had once expressed their disdain for him).
All this also to say that I wasn’t much of a moviegoer last week, my own despair unfortunately preferring solitude to community, something I’m hoping to rectify this week. Otherwise, I watched a few things at home: Clarence Brown’s Sadie McKee (1934), starring Joan Crawford, on the Criterion Channel, and, very randomly, Stuart Gordon’s Dagon (2001), with my husband. The latter put the current situation into perspective; at least we’re not up against gold-obsessed fish people worshiping a false god. On second thought, that doesn’t feel too far off.
Until next time, moviegoers.
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Our critics review the best on the big and small screens and in the media.
Interior Chinatown takes an ambitious, meta approach to satire of racism and police procedurals.
Wicked is a fantastic movie musical epic that hits all the right notes and stays true to its source material.
Alice Maio Mackay’s trans slasher film Carnage for Christmas is a satisfying holiday treat.
A new addition to the Dune franchise gives an intriguing perspective on vengeance, power, and humanity itself.
Payal Kapadia’s latest film finds a refreshing tenderness and subtlety in this story of burgeoning love.
Your Monster is a tropey but enjoyable horror rom-com with perfectly cast leads.
For years, a lighthouse guided sailors across a deadly crossing in the heart of Lake Michigan. Standing on a foreboding island marked by oppressive fog, the lighthouse aided navigation for those who embarked on the Portes des Morts, or Death’s Door.
In the world premiere of Pilot Island & Her Keepers, the Impostors Theatre Company illuminates the stories of the keepers tasked with watching over the light, inspired by real events.
Pilot Island & Her Keepers Through 11/23: Thu–Sat 7:30 PM, Sun 3 PM; Den Theatre, 1331 N. Milwaukee, 773-697-3830, theimpostorstheatre.com, $31 reserved, $26 general admission
Playwright and ITC company member Kayla Belec’s innovative script triumphantly weaves together several narratives of the keepers who worked on Pilot Island. For some, it is a land of opportunity, while others meet it with reluctance. The lore that precedes the keepers becomes something that steers, haunts, and rouses them as they forge ahead and create their own legacies during their time on the island.
The lighthouse at Pilot Island still stands today, although the task of keeping it has given way to automation. Thanks to the vision of the cast and creative team, led by director and ITC artistic director Stefan Roseen, Pilot Island isn’t just a piece of lost history or a single story of a time that has come and gone. Audiences are invited to escape to an immersive world that crosses the boundaries of time and emphasizes the often otherworldly connection between the place and the people within. The attention to detail across each production element, from the whimsical score by Dominick Vincent Alesia to the chilling lighting design by Emma Luke, elevates an already captivating story.
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Reader reviews of Chicago theater, dance, comedy, and performance arts.
Court and TimeLine partner for a vibrant and touching revival of a musical from the early days of the AIDS pandemic.
The Comedians traces the rise and fall of a relationship through club sets.
America’s tragedy, onstage at Lyric Opera
Sweet Gwen Suite makes its company premiere alongside work by Aszure Barton, Lar Lubovitch, and Kyle Abraham.
Marriott’s White Christmas captures the seasonal spirit.
Kevin Sparrow’s new pop-punk musical, Sofa King Queer, is raw, shaggy, sardonic, passionate, and just right for this moment. Directed by JD Caudill and featuring a young and diverse queer cast, this production by Nothing Without a Company hits a lot of the right emotional notes as it follows a group of queer friends, lovers, and family members through one day’s couplings, quarrels, and revelations.
Sofa King Queer Through 12/14: Thu–Fri 7 PM, Sat 2 and 7 PM, Sun 2 PM; also Wed 11/13 7 PM and Mon 12/2 7 PM (industry night), no show Sat 11/16 2 PM or Thu 11/28; Berger Park Cultural Center, 6205 N. Sheridan, nothingwithoutacompany.org, $30-$60
Topher (Jacob C. Watson) is a booker and manager at a rock club who lives in the venue’s basement studio. When we first meet him, he’s in bed with Granger (Marquise De’Jahn), a promoter. Topher’s former lover, a closeted Mormon boy named Brody (Aaron Cappello), is set to do a “secret show” at the club with his on-the-cusp-of-stardom band, the False Senses. Topher’s mixed feelings about both Brody and Granger as lovers also reflect his mixed feelings about taking the club in a more openly queer direction, as Granger urges.
Set in 2008 before the election of Barack Obama, the show, as Caudill notes in the program, is intended as a period piece. But the urgency of queer people claiming their space and naming their pain has never felt more important than right now, which isn’t to say that Sparrow’s show is pure conscious uplift (though a few speeches do come within hailing distance of feeling a tad didactic). It’s unafraid of the messiness and conflicts within the queer community and how much harder it can be to build trust after a lifetime of abuse both within and outside your family, depicted in part here by the story of Topher’s agoraphobic cousin, Sil (played with compelling vulnerability by Amy Delgado), and their partner Nao (Alexandra Alontaga).
Songs like “Backroom Boy/Backroom Girl,” “Daddy Dearest,” and the title track (say it fast if you don’t get the joke right away) are absolute bangers, performed by an onstage four-piece band under music director and arranger Ron Attreau (there’s an album coming out!). Both as a period piece about late-aughts homocore culture in Chicago and as a rousing cri de coeur for right now, this big-hearted show deserves an attentive audience.
Reader Recommends: THEATER & DANCE
Reader reviews of Chicago theater, dance, comedy, and performance arts.
Court and TimeLine partner for a vibrant and touching revival of a musical from the early days of the AIDS pandemic.
America’s tragedy, onstage at Lyric Opera
Sweet Gwen Suite makes its company premiere alongside work by Aszure Barton, Lar Lubovitch, and Kyle Abraham.
Marriott’s White Christmas captures the seasonal spirit.
Pilot Island & Her Keepers tells a captivating tale about a real lighthouse.
Every Brilliant Thing offers some quiet respite at Writers Theatre.
Kerry Reid (she/her) has been the theater and dance editor at the Chicago Reader since 2019.
Graduating from Columbia College in 1987, she worked with several off-Loop theater companies before beginning her arts journalism career by writing pro bono for Streetwise.
She spent most of the 90s in San Francisco, writing about theater for Backstage West and the East Bay Express, among other publications, and returned to Chicago in 2000.
Reid was a freelance critic for the Chicago Tribune for 17 years, and has also contributed to several other publications, including Windy City Times, Chicago Magazine, Playbill, American Theatre, and the Village Voice.
She taught reviewing and arts journalism at Columbia and is currently adjunct faculty at the Theatre School at DePaul University.
In a past life, Reid also wrote about ten plays or performance pieces. She is a member of the American Theatre Critics Association and the recipient of two 2020 Lisagor Awards.
Reid lives in Rogers Park. She speaks English and is reachable at [email protected].
