A Case for the Existence of God is something a little different for playwright Samuel D. Hunter, whose other plays have titles that either convey broader thematic ideas (The Whale, Rest) or allude to their Idaho settings (Pocatello, Great Clements). This more provocative title is fitting because A Case for the Existence of God includes a very personal fingerprint for Hunter, who continues in this latest work to do what he does best: masterfully explore the value, complexity, and necessity of human connections.
Hunter and his husband adopted a baby girl, who is now preschool aged, and the emotional ties of fatherhood are central to the two characters he brings to life. Keith (Kyle Beltran) and Ryan (Will Brill) meet through their daughters’ day care, and at the play’s beginning that small connection has progressed to a professional relationship. Keith, a mortgage broker, is trying to help Ryan secure a loan for a property that holds sentimental value for him. The plot is parsed out through a series of conversations that occur as Keith and Ryan form a lasting friendship.
Disney’s Frozen continues its run at Chicago’s Broadway Palace through January 22, and it is worth seeing not only for the theatrical effects but also for the songs and story. Seeing Frozen led me to consider the progression of musicals from Disney Theatrical Productions, which began its Broadway affiliation more than 25 years ago with the premier of Beauty and the Beast.
This post will look back at the 11 Disney Theatrical musicals that I have seen. For a more complete list including shows in production, check out this link. In addition to ranking the musicals, I am also going to look at each musical’s role in the 25-year progression of Disney’s theater arm.*
Samuel Hunter sits among my favorite playwrights based on the strength of The Whale and Pocatello. One can make a sure bet that a Hunter play will build to a mesmerizing, semi-tragic climax as characters push themselves beyond their own limitations.
To start with the greatest asset of this adaption of a 1976 movie: Bryan Cranston. Not just his acting, but the effects that propel a close-up of Cranston’s face across the entire back of the stage during Howard Beale’s iconic breakdown. From my seat in the front row, I saw Cranston run up the aisle in a state of dementia and then shed tears as he decries a country where corporate money dominates the needs of everyday citizens. And, yes, I felt angry as Cranston stood in dead silence, and then exploded in Beale’s mantra: “I’m mad as hell, and I’m not going to take it anymore!” (if you want, you can purchase a $20 coffee cup with the slogan in the lobby)