Avenue Lewd

While the question still stands as to whether I'll be able to DO more theater in Chicago, I've certainly SEEN more in these first few weeks than I did in most years in St. Louis.

The streak continued last night. A friend ended up with a last minute ticket to Avenue Q last night, at the Cadillac Palace Theater downtown. The Palace is one of the grand old houses of Chicago, with marble and guilding everywhere, and stacks of balconies that rise up through the space. It is also rather modest in size, however, and the seats only extend about 20ish rows back, so it has a nice intimate feel. Our seats were on the floor, about 10 rows back, so we had great views of all the action.

And what interesting action there was. If you are unfamiliar with the show, Avenue Q was the great Broadway phenom of 2003. Originally developed off-Broadway, it was the brainchild of several veterans of both Sesame Street and the Jim Henson Company.

It is safe to say that Avenue Q is several neighborhoods over from Sesame Street. Although it plays fast and loose with some of the conventions of that show (animated segments, teachable-moment singalongs, and most crucially, puppets as main characters), it uses them to explore the challenges of young adulthood in a contemporary urban landscape. This is decidely NOT a kid's show. Its also not a show for all adults, either. Along the way of exploring the idea of Purpose (capital intended), the protagonists make many detours and digressions, involving a variety of adult avocations and compromising positions (yep, with puppets).

It is filled with salty language and morally questionable decisions, but it also has a lot of thought and heart behind it. It is probably one of the clearest depictions of twentysomethinghood that I've seen in any medium (one of my favorite songs was called "I Wish I Could Go Back To College") and has one of the most concise, emotionally-true depections of the pain of romantic breakup ("There's A Fine, Fine Line"). It also has former child star Gary Coleman as a main character, played by an African American woman who belts out a tune about the German concept of deriving personal amusement out of others' misfortune ("Scadenfreude"). It all makes sense in context, and ends on a bittersweet, honest note.

I liked it quite a bit. One of its most appealing aspects for me is that it downplays its own virtuoso. Most of the performers play multiple characters, and they do some sophisticated puppetry while belting out songs like Broadway pros. But, for all the gloss and glitter, it still felt like something you might have made up while horsing around with friends on your best night.

If you were this smart, and fearless.