Evanston Salt Costs Climbing is a Constant Truism.

Evanston Salt Costs Climbing was originally a writing assignment while playwright Will Arbery was in college: he had to write a short play based on a headline and challenged himself to find the most boring headline imaginable. The resultant mix of mundanity, absurdity, menace and humanity feels so topical it’s hard to believe it debuted in the relatively innocent days of 2018.

The play opens with long time co-workers and friends, Basil (understudy Christopher Hainsworth) and Peter (Jelani West), before a winter workday in 2014. They work for the city of Evanston as Salt Truck Drivers. They have spent enough time with each other to have a shorthand and easy camaraderie, which is interrupted by a cheery visit from their supervisor, Jane Maiworm, played by Ashley Neal. The back and forth feels lived in, the set up feels like an invitation to enjoy a peek into the lives of a specific community in the Midwest

The First Floor Theater company’s production, in the Bookspan at the Den Theatre on Milwaukee, makes great use of the long, narrow space. The salt warehouse, where Basil and Peter spend most of their time, is at one end, and Maiworm’s home is at the other. Lighting Designer Conchita Avitia did a lot of the heavy lifting in separating the space and creating movement, for example, when Basil and Peter are driving their truck. Sound Designer Matt Reich also deserves special mention: from the turning off and on of the truck, to the wind when the imaginary doors are opened, to the ominous tones that fill the room when Basil’s demons appear, the sound cues help fill out the small space and spare staging with detail and texture.

What begins as a slightly quirky, workspace comedy quickly begins to reveal a darker core. Jelani West’s Peter is a loving, supportive friend, plagued with “sadness” that he cannot shake, and often expresses thoughts of suicide. West whips through laughter and pain with an intensity that leaves the viewer unsettled and a little unsure as to danger to himself or others he might pose. Hainsworth’s Basil, meanwhile, writes creepy, strange short stories, but refuses to dive any deeper into the very real darkness Peter is running from.

At first, Maiworm is just a well-meaning, if slightly self-important low-level municipal employee. Soon, however, we discover she is living with her daughter, Jane Jr., played by Jacinda Ratcliffe, who struggles with paralyzing anxiety and suicidal ideation as well. In fact, it’s Jane Jr. who puts words to the feeling that has begun to creep up as the story unfolds: “Don’t you feel that there is something, underneath everything, that wants us to die?” Maiworm refuses to feel it, putting all of her energy into “administration,” fiercely believing in its ability to keep people safe, and build a community that works for everyone. Ashley Neal moves through the production with a desperate cheerfulness and awkward attempts at friendliness that often produce the biggest laughs, though occasionally come off as slightly bigger than necessary in what is ultimately an intimate look at the creeping, cold anxiety that most of us seem to be living with these days.

As the story continues, things begin to twist and turn in weirder and darker directions. As Maiworm struggles to find safer, more environmentally responsible ways to maintain Evanston’s winter roads, Basil reveals a darker and darker past, and Peter’s menacing depression is met with real-life tragedy. Meanwhile, Jane Jr. is frozen in time, year after year she is stuck in her mother’s house, paralyzed with choice and with the ever bleaker trajectory of climate change. Ratcliffe shines for a moment with a short dance number that is as powerful as it is another rather pointless attempt to get out of her anxiety-ridden hermitage.

The last third of the play goes completely off the rails when it comes to plot. Desperation and darkness are everywhere, the veneer of everyday, midwestern cheer thinning with every moment. Tragedy builds on tragedy, and the characters all long to connect with each other, but often have no idea how to do so with any real meaning. In the end, Arbery seems to be saying that it doesn’t really matter. They are there, they are trying, and as the world ends around us, as salt costs only climb, all we really have are each other – it’s the people that matter, even when they can’t understand each other.

Recommended

Reviewed by Alina C. Hevia

Presented at The Bookspan at The Den Theatre, 1331 N. Milwaukee Ave, Chicago. May 15 – June 14, 2025 Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays at 8 p.m.; Sundays at 3 p.m. Tickets for  Evanston Salt Costs Climbing  can be purchased online at:  https://www.firstfloortheater.com and range from $10.00 – $35.00.

Additional information about this and other area productions can be found by visiting www.theatreinchicago.com.

The Blank Theatre’s Sweet Charity is a Ray of Brightly Colored Sunshine.

SWEET CHARITY, written, directed and choreographed by Bob Fosse for Gwen Verdon, made it’s Broadway debut in 1966, and garnered several Tonies. When watching the joyful, silly, brightly colored confection that is the Blank Theatre Company’s production at The Greenhouse Theater Center, its roots as a show conceived by a dancer are easy to see.

The story follows the adventures of Charity Hope Valentine, optimistic dance-hall hostess (or taxi-dancer) with a heart of gold, as she searches for love in New York City. Taxi dancing first appeared in taxi-dance halls in the early 20th century in the United States, in them, male patrons typically bought dance tickets for a small sum each. When a patron presented a ticket to a chosen taxi dancer, she danced with him for the length of a song and earned a commission on every dance ticket she received. Fosse based the musical on the 1957 Italian film, Nights of Cabiria – about a sex worker looking for love, but I’m guessing that was a bridge too far for 1960s era Broadway. It is heavily coded in SWEET CHARITY, however, that the jump from taxi-dancer to sex worker isn’t very far, and it’s interesting to see what has and hasn’t changed much in the 60 or so years since it debuted.

Charity herself is played with a big, bubbly smile by Teah Kiang Mirabelli. The show opens with a hopeful, energetic number, before her dirt-bag boyfriend betrays her. She takes her sorrows to work, and her friends and co-workers give her tough love, which moves into one of the most famous numbers of the show: Hey Big Spender. This is also when the production begins to shine. I suppose it should be no surprise that a show conceived by a dancer would have wonderful, expressive dance numbers, but it was a surprise at just how great this ensemble carried it off. It’s a difficult thing to find dancers who can sing, and vice versa. Director McKenzie Miller uses each player perfectly, creating a beautiful, ever-changing whirlwind of characters. Choreographer Lauryn Schmelzer must have memorized the exact width and depth of the stage, because the dancers move across it with a precision and fluidity that are captivating. The design team of Cindy Moon as costume design, Amy Gillman scenic design, Ellie Humphrys lighting design and Abby Gillette on props also do a wonderful job of creating a slightly psychedelic, cheerful environment, just shy of too much.  The use of pop-signs to move the action along was not only funny, but made the show feel modern – like the show had a plot-driven comments section.

Given the 14 member cast, everyone has a ton to do, and everyone does it well. Special mention must go to Damondre Green, who plays an absolutely electric cult leader and Kelcy Taylor and India Huy, who play Charity’s besties Nickie and Helene. Eldon Warner Soriano also plays a very convincing Italian movie star and Dustin Rothbart is a lovable nerd as Oscar.

The best moments were the ensemble dance numbers. It was impossible not to smile through the silly, rhythmic, absolutely-attitude-packed pieces. They all concluded to well-deserved, wild applause. Mirabelli’s Charity is a funny, self-deprecating clown who just wants to love, and has a capacity for optimism and a bright smile that is almost superhuman, but in a life punctuated by epic dance numbers, wouldn’t you be too? You won’t find a more fun evening than one spent with The Blank Theatre Company.

Highly Recommended

Reviewed by Alina C. Hevia

SWEET CHARITY runs May 9th – June 8th at The Greenhouse Theater Center, 2257 N Lincoln, Chicago, IL 60614 in Lincoln Park. Tickets range from $15-35. Additional information is available at www.blanktheatrecompany.org.

Additional information about this and other area productions can be found by visiting www.theatreinchicago.com.