For the prowess of its musical score alone, Marie Christine should be short-listed for Chicago must-see theater. Director Lili-Anne Brown takes this magnetic music and gives us much, much more…
Picture this…
Lights flicker outside and around three louvered doors that immediately signal we are in the French Quarter of New Orleans. There seems to be a commotion outside, and then the din takes on crescendo as Kyrie Courter in the title role is thrown through the center door while a woman’s chorus emerging from all sides sings questions of what she has done to land her here in prison, now awaiting her execution the next morning.
On all fours she looks up, sings her name, peppering her clarion voice with distinctive rolls of stiff arm and hand as her torso is whipped by what seems to be a cyclone in her personal space. This move soon becomes her trademark—a movement refrain with a whiff of West African dance that captures her essence and perhaps the entire musical’s storyline (Choreography: Breon Arzell) In this gesture we see Marie Christine’s force of nature passions that she attempts to ride like a cowboy on a bucking bronco, and with similar faint and fleeting ability to control the beast of her will.
In this riveting opening scene— arguably the most powerful moment in the production and one which sets a high bar of expectations for the remainder—the pile on of Director Brown’s so expert staging decisions begins commanding us to affirmative nods at her sophisticated touch. Yes, with music so compelling leave the door ajar so we can periodically glimpse the musicians making their magic. Yes, have the actors’ bodies ever move like props that shift the visual frame and focus to the action. Yes, crank up the spotlights for that perfect touch (Lighting Designer: Heather Gilbert). Yes, garb Marie Christine in a bustier that telegraphs from the gitgo that being the proper lady of her brothers’ design is a non-starter (Costume Designer: Izumi Inabi).
