To celebrate the release of MAKE's latest issue, which centers on the theme of "architectural" and features new work from Chris Wiewiora and Paul Pedroza, local comedian Adam Burke hosts a Q and A session with the City of Chicago’s Official Cultural Historian, Tim Samuelson. Also slated to appear is poet Ted Mathys and Reader contributor Tovah Burstein.
$8-$10
Erin McKeown shows off the malleability of the songs on the new Manifestra (TVP) by including a bonus disc that acknowledges her coffeehouse roots with ten acoustic-guitar versions of the polished full-band tracks on the album proper. McKeown has always seemed to me like a pop polymath trapped in the body of a protest singer, but here she approaches politics with a heavy-handedness she’s previously kept in check. “The Politician” helpfully points out that corruption is bad, and “The Jailer” notes that current border policies are fucked-up. “Baghdad to the Bayou,” which channels the swamp-rock grooves of CCR and ties the war in Iraq to the Deepwater Horizon disaster, was cowritten via text message with Rachel Maddow. I’m down with what McKeown is saying, but I’d personally prefer to find such opining on the op-ed page. Thankfully her delivery—with the exception of the horrible rapping on the title track—redeems these lapses in judgment. Like the proverbial spoonful of sugar, her effortless singing and charming melodies help even bitterest lyric medicine go down. McKeown is joined here by Marc Dalio on drums and Matt Douglas on horns. —Peter Margasak Jenn Grant opens.
$12
TurnAround Theatre had a hit with this drama by Irish playwright Brian Friel back in 1995. Now the Den Theatre has reunited director J.R. Sullivan with the original cast for another go. Comprising four monologues by three unreliable narrators, the play recounts the slow unraveling of self-doubting faith healer Frank Hardy (Si Osborne), his embittered wife (Lia Mortensen), and the Cockney showbiz promoter (Brad Armacost) who loves them both. Every second of Sullivan's remount is riveting, thanks to a cast who manage to seem deeply connected to one another even though they're never onstage at the same time. I didn't see the original version, but it's hard to imagine younger performers conveying the same depth and hard-won experience. —Zac Thompson $28
James Joyce had Stephen Dedalus, David Mamet had Bobby Gould. And Vaclav Havel had a hapless alter ego named Ferdinand Vanek, bearing witness to life's absurdities in four plays that Havel wrote over the course of 25 years. Trap Door Theatre mounts the first and the last of those plays. In 1975's The Unveiling, Vanek spends an excruciating evening with maniacally status-conscious Vera and Michael, who are hell-bent on "resolving his situation" by turning him into a consumerist clone of themselves. In 2010's Dozens of Cousins, Vanek returns to find the dissolute but defiantly condescending couple in the throes of collapse. Beata Pilch's manicured, high-strung staging makes the submerged menace of the pieces hilarious, bracing, and deeply disturbing. Her laser-sharp cast turn 65 minutes of increasing irrationality into a giddy psychological thrill ride. —Justin Hayford $20-$25
An all-female version of Star Wars is an interesting proposition to begin with. When those females end most scenes by stripping down to pasties, it just gets even more, well, interesting. The Gorilla Tango Theatre cast pulls it off beautifully in a funny, clever reimagining of Star Wars: Episode V—The Empire Strikes Back that references the original without getting too bogged down in plot. Among the many successful scenes is one where Yoda teaches Luke Skywalker the ways of the Force, a power that in this version is activated through vigorous shimmying. When Luke gets frustrated and complains that she's not well enough equipped to levitate the X-wing fighter, Yoda displays her own modestly sized breasts and gently advises that "cup size matters not." —Julia Thiel $20
A comedy-music game show where contestants tell a funny anecdote which is then set to music.
$5
Answering the prayers of nerdy straight guys everywhere, this Geek Girl Burlesque show features a bunch of scantily clad women reenacting the first Star Wars movie. The only character who isn't played by a woman, R2-D2, is represented by a trash can. M.C. Curran's script closely follows the plot of the original except that the action frequently pauses so cast members can strip down to pasties and panties. Even Chewbacca gets a turn. In the spirit of Minsky's, Timothy Bambara's staging is more suggestive than raunchy and as concerned with laughs and novelty as with titillation. It also offers the rare chance to see Ben Obi-Wan Kenobi perform a posthumous striptease to the Bee Gees' "I Started a Joke." —Zac Thompson $35