There was opportunity aplenty for director Kristina Schramm to miss this mark and leave theatergoers with acidic resentment. Faced with the tall order of bringing to life Ray Bradbury's classic anthology "The Martian Chronicles," though, she wasn't intimidated.
The cast and crew of this Chicago production inventively transformed the Lincoln Square Theatre—set squarely within a North Side church—into Mars, where Martians roamed with normalcy.
There's a twist, though. Instead of E.T. descending upon Earth, earthlings invade the aboriginal Martians' native land with dreams of dollar signs and even succulent hot dogs.
Bradbury was used to reversing the traditional pendulum of the written word through the toils of his own path for fame, which he realized at the nascent age of 30. He churned out succinct vignettes when publishers kept requesting traditional novels. His novel approach, in fact, turned into his trademark.
Using every inch of the spacious, open stage, Schramm and her gang don't make quick use of these illustrious stories from 1950. They take the time to do them justice. Just like in Bradbury's writing, Schramm uses a "future history" structure whereby the plots gel as chapters in a larger chronological narrative skeleton.
Lighting (by Casey Diers) and audibles (sound design by Geraldo de Oliveira and original music by John Bohnert) especially play a starring role, making you feel at home on Mars and fusing naturally with the in-the-moment acting.
Benjamin Hailie is masterful in a particularly difficult role as the kingpin of a freak show, even though Schramm should have seriously abbreviated that tangential subplot.
Liz Ladach-Bark as the mysteriously deadpan narrator is hauntingly memorable, and the play would have a gaping void without her. Costume designer Nathan R. Rohrer excels at the opportunity to transform his subjects into Martians. His use of masks effortlessly identifies the difference between the disparate species.
The naming of these Martian Extraterrestrials—on which Bradbury has inflicted the cancerous touch of the human race—rings with hilarity even when said in monotone. Imagine calling your friend, Bill, by the name III, NNN, RRR, TTT, UUU or WWW. (Thankfully, Jae K. Renfrow as XXX was most certainly not at all reminiscent of Vin Diesel's "xXx.")
Chicago's reenactment of "The Martian Chronicles" in general stands on its own with distinction.
Reviewed by Centerstage!
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