Performed at the way-way-way-off-Loop Prop Thtr, Chicago's oldest-surviving non-equity theater in the area, "Ceres" exudes high-octane energy. The cast members act in harmony much in the same way as the "X-Men" character Juggernaut: Once their momentum is synthesized, it can't be stopped.
This theme is carried consistently from the instant "Ceres" lights up all the way through its curtain call. The Factory Theater troupe makes theatergoers feel like privileged voyeurs in the lion's den of high-volatility investment brokers who crook all their rules, loyalties and ethics in order to make the coveted sale.
The 1992 film "Glengarry Glen Ross," perhaps the quintessential exploration of the sales world in cinema, is shrewdly referenced in "Ceres," implying that the movie served as Chicago writer Heather Tyler's partial inspiration. She also acknowledges having drawn a direct muse from "sitting in a room stuffed with attorneys and answering some questions one Thanksgiving."
Set in the Windy City's financial district and focused on the suspect actions of a furtive assemblage called Unit 57, the play explores the explosiveness, backbiting camaraderie and infidelity often triggered by the towering profit demands of corporate governance.
Chicago director Angelina Martinez, who took on this play with full realization that right and wrong often aren't blatantly black or white, sets in motion the dangerous "grey area" with a Chicago cast of nine stage actors and a dozen more film actors. A film, creatively projected onto the stage's far wall, is presented in tandem with what's live on stage.
While the film crew had a decidedly more grave air about them, the stage crew sometimes fell victim to zealously delivering their lines while neglecting to feel them and understand their intentions.
The film sound was sometimes a screechy issue on preview night, but the production will likely resolve that kink. The title "Ceres" has questionable relevance about a planet that never was, and perhaps the moniker would have been better served as a variation of "Money Talks," "Get Outta My Way, Sucka" or "Swindling is the Life For Me–Or is It?"
Though the play's topic could have been better researched to give it more credibility and takeaway meaning, the main character, Gretchen Carter's Ivy, importantly probes the double-edged ethics sword inherent in the investment brokering profession—amid a probe, in fact, into her unit's overall profiteering practices. The performance leaves us with the message to question the beast even if it's lavishly feeding the cow.
Reviewed by Centerstage!
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