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Yahoo
23-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Jon Bernthal wants to bring Broadway-caliber theater to Ojai: It's 'always been a dream of mine'
Jon Bernthal is in his preferred habitat: on a stage. At Los Angeles' storied Rogue Machine Theatre, he volleys dialogue with actor Marin Ireland while rehearsing an upcoming performance of the play "Ironbound" as part of his decades-long passion project. Though the actor is due at the L.A. premiere of "The Accountant 2" in a few hours, his excitement for this particular process and the material is palpable. "Theater has always been the closest thing that I've ever known to church, to spirituality and to religion," said Bernthal. "I feel like I have a connection to something so much bigger than myself. This is about [collaborating with] artists who love this and, like me, this thing saved their lives." In roughly two weeks, Bernthal will be back in that favored haven, in his adopted hometown. He and his co-artistic directors will launch the Ojai Theatre Festival with their inaugural production, 'Ironbound.' Taking place at Ojai's Chaparral Auditorium over two weekends in May, the project is a labor of love for everyone involved, most of whom are donating their time and talents. Bernthal is not only producing and acting, he's funding the entire endeavor, a major component of which included renovating a closed public school building to use as the performance venue that will be donated to the local school's arts department after the festival. "We've taken this old, historic, rarely used building from a defunct school district and we've refurbished it," explained Bernthal. "We put in state-of-the-art lighting and sound, and we're donating it to the Nordhoff theater department and to the Hojs, who are [Nordhoff High School's] drama teacher and dance teacher. They're institutional artists that have raised so many young artists and now they will have a theater for their performances." Joining Bernthal on his mission are longtime friends Josh Bitton and Isidora Goreshter, who want to bring Broadway-caliber productions and arts programs to the local community. "We're just three actors trying to figure out how to throw a theater festival in Ojai," said Goreshter. "It was Jon's idea, he's always wanted to bring theater to Ojai." Given Bernthal's demanding work schedule over the last year and a half, the actor entrusted Bitton and Goreshter with big decisions and finding the space where they'd host the festival. "We had looked at a lot of buildings. I walked in [to the Chaparral] and had chills," Goreshter continued. "And then Josh walked in and he was like, 'This is it.' The building means a lot to the community. It's literally in the center of Ojai." Bernthal has lived in the small, formerly sleepy valley town for 10 years with his wife, Erin, and their three children. "Of all the places I've lived, it's the most I've ever felt at home," he said. "I've become friends with everybody on the school board. I play basketball with them and I've coached their kids." Seeing firsthand how gentrification and rapidly rising housing costs have started to negatively affect the mostly blue-collar town, Bernthal set out to give back. "I've seen huge changes, and the thing that I think has suffered the most is the public school," he said. "I want to show the kids [here] what a life in the arts is about." An Ojai transplant himself, the actor is dedicated to preserving the integrity of the close-knit community while fostering its artistic growth. "Opening a theater, doing a theater festival has always been a dream of mine. It has been the dream," said Bernthal. "I hope this doesn't come off too grandiose or douchey, but as I see the place changing in the way that it is, I wanted to bring something great to this town and to do it in the right way for the right reasons." The actor is proud to be fulfilling his dream and supporting it financially. "I'll be honest, it is more expensive than I ever thought, but you can't cut corners," he admitted. "You've got to buy the lights, to build this stuff. You've got to hire the actors, fly people out, put people up." Bernthal, Bitton and Goreshter hope that by launching the festival with a high-level production like "Ironbound," locals and visitors alike will be motivated to participate and support their efforts for years to come. The play, a gripping portrayal of a Polish immigrant trying to survive and succeed in America, "is challenging, it's biting, it's hilarious, it's dark, super topical," said the actor. Ireland, whom Bernthal refers to as "a gangster" and "powerhouse," returns to the starring role she originated off-Broadway and performed in 2018 at the Geffen Playhouse. The play, directed by Guillermo Cienfuegos, also stars Shiloh Fernandez. "It's an opportunity for the students in the town to see a world-class performance." Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright Martyna Majok, who happily granted them use of her work, will participate in the festival as well. Watching the 48-year-old Bernthal in action is a reminder why he's such an in-demand star, known for delivering memorable performances with minimal screen time. In the last six weeks, Bernthal has promoted his action thriller 'The Accountant 2' in three different cities, flown to and from Greece to film Christopher Nolan's star-studded 'The Odyssey,' worked in New York on Marvel's standalone 'Punisher' special that he's writing and top-lining for Disney+ and returned to the Chicago set of 'The Bear,' which last year earned him his first Emmy. Not to mention banking episodes for the new season of his hit podcast, "Real Ones." Grateful for his success and packed work schedule, Bernthal would love to spend more time onstage. "There's no going back. There's no second take," he said. "There's nothing that scares me quite like that, and there's nothing I'm quite as addicted to as that." Bernthal credits his mother, Joan, with recognizing his potential as a performer early on. Born and raised in an affluent suburb of Washington, D.C., his younger years were plagued with what he called "complete buffoonery" — street fights, misplaced aggression and behavior that resulted in multiple arrests. Bernthal's mom, a social worker, sent him to his first acting class essentially as punishment, an initial toe dip that he said felt electric, like "touching the third rail." Read more: 'Star Wars' actor Alden Ehrenreich's mission to make L.A. a 'theater city' involves a 119-year-old trolley station Because he was an athlete heading to New York's Skidmore College on a baseball scholarship, Bernthal scoffed at pursuing the art form. In college he "took a theater course really by accident," taught by his future mentor Alma Becker. "Tapping into the same energy that in my life got me in trouble, [pursuing] danger, risk, I found that taking the energy of a room and turning it on its head, scaring people, scaring myself … was actually getting me love and respect and encouragement." Acting was the answer, once he got out of his own way. "It was like I was dead set on proving everybody I was a real Class-A f— up," he said. Bernthal was kicked out of college, but Becker stuck by him and helped get him into the prestigious Moscow Art Theatre program in 1999. "She really saved my life," he said of Becker, whose name Bernthal has lovingly tattooed on his forearm, along with the emblem for the Moscow Art Theatre, a seagull in flight. Unsurprisingly, the two years in Russia humbled him. "For a kid who thought he was this tough street-smart kid from D.C., I was in for a very rude awakening," he said. "It was the most rigorous and disciplined training I had ever gone through." The day Bernthal returned from Moscow, he met his now-wife, who was a trauma nurse, and in 2002 he graduated with a master of fine arts from Harvard. "There's no way I would be able to put food on my kids' table by doing this if it wasn't for Alma and the decision to go there." Launching the festival is giving Bernthal not only an opportunity to practice his favorite art form but to pay it forward. "We really want to make theater that everybody will enjoy," said Bernthal. "We want to put on plays that you could only see in New York or London or maybe in L.A., but to make it all open for the public school kids." All "Ironbound" rehearsals will be open to the public, and local students are involved in the production. "They're helping with the lighting, they're helping with the design. They're going to work at the theater," said Bernthal. "And all during our run, we're going to have classes for the kids." "I really want to show L.A., and everybody [who attends], what the real Ojai is all about," he said. "This is not going to be valet parking and [trendy] restaurants, where you could be in L.A. This is an Ojai thing put on by and with Ojai residents. It's for this town and will always be for this town." All proceeds will go directly to the school district, with all associated programs and classes available for free for local students. They hope to expand the event from one play to an annual festival with multiple productions in the coming years, to make Ojai a bona fide theatrical destination. "Ultimately, this is for my kids," Bernthal continued. He and his wife have two sons, 13 and 12, and a daughter, 9. "I want my kids to grow up around and among a real thriving theater community. And this is going to sound corny, but I cannot wait to have a bunch of 10-year-old Ojai kids as ushers. And when people see how polite and respectful and how present they are, I want that same magic to [happen for] those same kids when they watch this complicated play and be [transformed] like, 'What the f—?' 'Holy s—.' 'This is possible.'" Get notified when the biggest stories in Hollywood, culture and entertainment go live. Sign up for L.A. Times entertainment alerts. This story originally appeared in Los Angeles Times.
Los Angeles Times
23-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Los Angeles Times
Jon Bernthal wants to bring Broadway-caliber theater to Ojai: It's ‘always been a dream of mine'
Jon Bernthal is in his preferred habitat: on a stage. At Los Angeles' storied Rogue Machine Theatre, he volleys dialogue with actor Marin Ireland while rehearsing an upcoming performance of the play 'Ironbound' as part of his decades-long passion project. Though the actor is due at the L.A. premiere of 'The Accountant 2' in a few hours, his excitement for this particular process and the material is palpable. 'Theater has always been the closest thing that I've ever known to church, to spirituality and to religion,' said Bernthal. 'I feel like I have a connection to something so much bigger than myself. This is about [collaborating with] artists who love this and, like me, this thing saved their lives.' In roughly two weeks, Bernthal will be back in that favored haven, in his adopted hometown. He and his co-artistic directors will launch the Ojai Theatre Festival with their inaugural production, 'Ironbound.' Taking place at Ojai's Chaparral Auditorium over two weekends in May, the project is a labor of love for everyone involved, most of whom are donating their time and talents. Bernthal is not only producing and acting, he's funding the entire endeavor, a major component of which included renovating a closed public school building to use as the performance venue that will be donated to the local school's arts department after the festival. 'We've taken this old, historic, rarely used building from a defunct school district and we've refurbished it,' explained Bernthal. 'We put in state-of-the-art lighting and sound, and we're donating it to the Nordhoff theater department and to the Hojs, who are [Nordhoff High School's] drama teacher and dance teacher. They're institutional artists that have raised so many young artists and now they will have a theater for their performances.' Joining Bernthal on his mission are longtime friends Josh Bitton and Isidora Goreshter, who want to bring Broadway-caliber productions and arts programs to the local community. 'We're just three actors trying to figure out how to throw a theater festival in Ojai,' said Goreshter. 'It was Jon's idea, he's always wanted to bring theater to Ojai.' Given Bernthal's demanding work schedule over the last year and a half, the actor entrusted Bitton and Goreshter with big decisions and finding the space where they'd host the festival. 'We had looked at a lot of buildings. I walked in [to the Chaparral] and had chills,' Goreshter continued. 'And then Josh walked in and he was like, 'This is it.' The building means a lot to the community. It's literally in the center of Ojai.' Bernthal has lived in the small, formerly sleepy valley town for 10 years with his wife, Erin, and their three children. 'Of all the places I've lived, it's the most I've ever felt at home,' he said. 'I've become friends with everybody on the school board. I play basketball with them and I've coached their kids.' Seeing firsthand how gentrification and rapidly rising housing costs have started to negatively affect the mostly blue-collar town, Bernthal set out to give back. 'I've seen huge changes, and the thing that I think has suffered the most is the public school,' he said. 'I want to show the kids [here] what a life in the arts is about.' An Ojai transplant himself, the actor is dedicated to preserving the integrity of the close-knit community while fostering its artistic growth. 'Opening a theater, doing a theater festival has always been a dream of mine. It has been the dream,' said Bernthal. 'I hope this doesn't come off too grandiose or douchey, but as I see the place changing in the way that it is, I wanted to bring something great to this town and to do it in the right way for the right reasons.' The actor is proud to be fulfilling his dream and supporting it financially. 'I'll be honest, it is more expensive than I ever thought, but you can't cut corners,' he admitted. 'You've got to buy the lights, to build this stuff. You've got to hire the actors, fly people out, put people up.' Bernthal, Bitton and Goreshter hope that by launching the festival with a high-level production like 'Ironbound,' locals and visitors alike will be motivated to participate and support their efforts for years to come. The play, a gripping portrayal of a Polish immigrant trying to survive and succeed in America, 'is challenging, it's biting, it's hilarious, it's dark, super topical,' said the actor. Ireland, whom Bernthal refers to as 'a gangster' and 'powerhouse,' returns to the starring role she originated off-Broadway and performed in 2018 at the Geffen Playhouse. The play, directed by Guillermo Cienfuegos, also stars Shiloh Fernandez. 'It's an opportunity for the students in the town to see a world-class performance.' Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright Martyna Majok, who happily granted them use of her work, will participate in the festival as well. Watching the 48-year-old Bernthal in action is a reminder why he's such an in-demand star, known for delivering memorable performances with minimal screen time. In the last six weeks, Bernthal has promoted his action thriller 'The Accountant 2' in three different cities, flown to and from Greece to film Christopher Nolan's star-studded 'The Odyssey,' worked in New York on Marvel's standalone 'Punisher' special that he's writing and top-lining for Disney+ and returned to the Chicago set of 'The Bear,' which last year earned him his first Emmy. Not to mention banking episodes for the new season of his hit podcast, 'Real Ones.' Grateful for his success and packed work schedule, Bernthal would love to spend more time onstage. 'There's no going back. There's no second take,' he said. 'There's nothing that scares me quite like that, and there's nothing I'm quite as addicted to as that.' Bernthal credits his mother, Joan, with recognizing his potential as a performer early on. Born and raised in an affluent suburb of Washington, D.C., his younger years were plagued with what he called 'complete buffoonery' — street fights, misplaced aggression and behavior that resulted in multiple arrests. Bernthal's mom, a social worker, sent him to his first acting class essentially as punishment, an initial toe dip that he said felt electric, like 'touching the third rail.' Because he was an athlete heading to New York's Skidmore College on a baseball scholarship, Bernthal scoffed at pursuing the art form. In college he 'took a theater course really by accident,' taught by his future mentor Alma Becker. 'Tapping into the same energy that in my life got me in trouble, [pursuing] danger, risk, I found that taking the energy of a room and turning it on its head, scaring people, scaring myself … was actually getting me love and respect and encouragement.' Acting was the answer, once he got out of his own way. 'It was like I was dead set on proving everybody I was a real Class-A f— up,' he said. Bernthal was kicked out of college, but Becker stuck by him and helped get him into the prestigious Moscow Art Theatre program in 1999. 'She really saved my life,' he said of Becker, whose name Bernthal has lovingly tattooed on his forearm, along with the emblem for the Moscow Art Theatre, a seagull in flight. Unsurprisingly, the two years in Russia humbled him. 'For a kid who thought he was this tough street-smart kid from D.C., I was in for a very rude awakening,' he said. 'It was the most rigorous and disciplined training I had ever gone through.' The day Bernthal returned from Moscow, he met his now-wife, who was a trauma nurse, and in 2002 he graduated with a master of fine arts from Harvard. 'There's no way I would be able to put food on my kids' table by doing this if it wasn't for Alma and the decision to go there.' Launching the festival is giving Bernthal not only an opportunity to practice his favorite art form but to pay it forward. 'We really want to make theater that everybody will enjoy,' said Bernthal. 'We want to put on plays that you could only see in New York or London or maybe in L.A., but to make it all open for the public school kids.' All 'Ironbound' rehearsals will be open to the public, and local students are involved in the production. 'They're helping with the lighting, they're helping with the design. They're going to work at the theater,' said Bernthal. 'And all during our run, we're going to have classes for the kids.' 'I really want to show L.A., and everybody [who attends], what the real Ojai is all about,' he said. 'This is not going to be valet parking and [trendy] restaurants, where you could be in L.A. This is an Ojai thing put on by and with Ojai residents. It's for this town and will always be for this town.' All proceeds will go directly to the school district, with all associated programs and classes available for free for local students. They hope to expand the event from one play to an annual festival with multiple productions in the coming years, to make Ojai a bona fide theatrical destination. 'Ultimately, this is for my kids,' Bernthal continued. He and his wife have two sons, 13 and 12, and a daughter, 9. 'I want my kids to grow up around and among a real thriving theater community. And this is going to sound corny, but I cannot wait to have a bunch of 10-year-old Ojai kids as ushers. And when people see how polite and respectful and how present they are, I want that same magic to [happen for] those same kids when they watch this complicated play and be [transformed] like, 'What the f—?' 'Holy s—.' 'This is possible.''
Los Angeles Times
12-02-2025
- Entertainment
- Los Angeles Times
Review: ‘Bacon' treads the line between love and abuse for teenage boys in a Rogue Machine powerhouse
Acting doesn't get more combustible than in Rogue Machine Theatre's explosive production of 'Bacon,' performed upstairs at the Matrix Theatre on the inescapably intimate Henry Murray Stage. When you head back downstairs at the end of this two-hander by British playwright Sophie Swithinbank, you might need a moment to gather yourself. The play, which explores masculinity, bullying, sexuality, internalized homophobia and violence, chronicles the abusive relationship between two wounded adolescent boys who are struggling to understand the adults they're becoming. It's also, in a way, a love story. A destructive one that neither is equipped to handle. Mark (Wesley Guimarães) is a shy and polite newcomer to St. Michael's School. Self-conscious and friendless, he's anxious not to attract the kind of attention that has clearly made him a target of bullying in the past. Darren (Jack Lancaster), who lives with his volatile father in less middle-class circumstances than Mark, is a troublemaker at the school, a regular in detention who smokes where he shouldn't, takes what doesn't belong to him and carries a knife to settle disputes. The play, set in London, moves back and forth between two time periods. When 'Bacon' begins, Mark is working at a café, hiding out from his life in what will eventually be revealed to be a post-traumatic limbo. Darren's entrance into the café prompts Mark to tell his story — their story, actually, an entwined set of narratives that the two characters will take turns delivering. The scene changes to four years earlier, when Mark and Darren meet at St. Michael's School. They are drawn to each other like predator to prey. Darren, a menacing presence, instantly sizes up Mark, who wears his heart on his neatly pressed sleeve. Their backgrounds and temperaments could hardly be more different, yet both sense in each other a missing piece. Neglected and roiling with rage, Darren needs to be loved but can't face his own vulnerability. Mark, who longs to give comfort, doesn't have the self-esteem to protect himself from cruelty when it's mixed up with the promise of connection. Mark is taller and brighter than Darren but infinitely more docile and far less street-smart. There's no question who's in control. Guimarães' reveals Mark's limits — there are certain things he will not tolerate. But the character's terror of social isolation keeps the door open to a friendship that can resemble a hostage situation. Early on, Darren grabs Mark's phone and refuses to give it back, establishing the pattern of violation that Mark rejects but cannot seem to escape. Later, when Darren shows up at Mark's home, the unexpected social call is laden with lethal suspense. Lancaster's Darren is like a coiled snake, ready to spring at the most unexpected moments. As Mark and Darren spend more time alone together, the tension, both sexual and otherwise, rises exponentially. Cut off from the world, they tentatively explore their mutual curiosities. But these private moments create a backlash in Darren that is terrifying to witness. The brutality of his upbringing has made him dangerous. The sight of weakness, a reminder of what he's covering up, compels him to pounce. Swithinbank probes deep beyond the topical surface of her drama. 'Bacon' defies category. It deals with school bullying but doesn't takes refuge in social-issue talking points. This sharply psychological work uses the two-character format to dramatize a dance of fractured identities. The production, directed by Michael Matthews, concentrates intensely on the interplay between Guimarães and Lancaster. The actors, while adopting the English accents of their characters, bring their own individualities to the roles. 'Bacon' is the kind of play that will transform through the particularities of its performers. Unfolding in the tight quarters of the Henry Murray Stage, the actors rearrange a few minimal set pieces to shift the abstract locale from school to home to work and beyond. (Stephen Gifford's production design understands the theatricality of the play and keeps the focus squarely on the actors.) 'Bacon' grapples with trauma — and doesn't flinch from what it uncovers. Guimarães and Lancaster give themselves fearlessly over to a story that is extreme but in a way that is true to the extremity of adolescence. The production, another Rogue Machine powerhouse in a compressed package, is one of the most intense outings I've had in the theater in some time. Acting, playwriting, directing and producing combine into unmissable theater, an experience that could happen nowhere else but the live stage.
South China Morning Post
05-02-2025
- Entertainment
- South China Morning Post
Meet Kaia Gerber's friend Nick Hargrove: the American Primeval actor was recently seen hanging out with the model in Mexico – but why did he shy away from acting after auditioning for The Sixth Sense?
Supermodel Cindy Crawford's daughter Kaia Gerber, who according to People, split from Elvis actor Austin Butler late last year after three years together, is focusing on her career. She just made her stage debut in dark comedy Evanston Salt Costs Climbing, and her famous mum couldn't be prouder. Sharing photos from her performance at LA's Rogue Machine Theatre on her Instagram, Crawford gushed over her daughter being 'fearless on stage'. That's not to say her love life is on the back burner: People reports that she is dating Lewis Pullman , son of Hollywood legend Bill Pullman – the seemingly loved-up pair were spotted at LA eatery Salazar, celebrating his birthday. Gerber has also been spending time with friends: days ahead of her big show, she was soaking up the sun at Cabo San Lucas in Mexico, where, per DeuxMoi, she was accompanied by pals Travis Jackson and Nick Hargrove. Advertisement Jackson is a musician who has been friends with Gerber since she was a teenager, and whom she brought to the Time100 Next Gala in October 2024. But who is Nick Hargrove? Here's what to know. Nick Hargrove's background Nick Hargrove was raised by a German mother and American father. Photo: @nickhargrove/Instagram Nick Hargrove was born in September 1992, and grew up near Philadelphia with his brother Nelson and sister Saskia. Per Boys by Girls, his mother is German – and a doctor, as he told Coup de Main – while his father hails from the American South. Hargrove attended the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, where he studied economics and German. He's an actor Nick Hargrove is an actor known for his roles in Charmed and American Primeval. Photo: @nickhargrove/Instagram
Los Angeles Times
28-01-2025
- Entertainment
- Los Angeles Times
Review: Will Arbery's ‘Evanston Salt Costs Climbing' combines despair with tender absurdity at Rogue Machine
Will Arbery has a knack for coming up with unmemorable play titles. 'Heroes of the Fourth Turning,' his award-winning drama produced by Rogue Machine Theatre in 2023, has the misleading ring of a generically violent video game. 'Evanston Salt Costs Climbing,' his 2018 drama now receiving its Southern California premiere in a Rogue Machine production at the Matrix Theatre, could be a bullet point in a comptroller's budgetary report. The play, which isn't at all dryly bureaucratic, began as an exercise when Arbery was studying playwriting at Northwestern University. The assignment was to write a short play based on a news article, and Arbery challenged himself to write on the most boring item he could find. 'Evanston Salt Costs Climbing' evolved over many years, but the original newspaper headline stuck. The play, which revolves around two salt truck drivers and an administrator at the city's public works department, is indeed concerned with the rising cost of salt used to de-ice the roads in an Illinois community accustomed to brutal winters. But it's a most delectably weird play, experimental in form and frenetically playful in language. Arbery seems to be inspired by Mac Wellman and the line of neo-American absurdists that followed him. But there's a tender vulnerability to his characters, and the daffy empathy that suffuses the writing is unique to Arbery. 'Evanston Salt Costs Climbing' has little in common with 'Heroes of the Fourth Turning.' For those who appreciated the unusual political vantage point of 'Heroes,' of being eavesdroppers on the private quarrels of young religious conservatives, 'Evanston' will seem like a visit to Mars. The trip is worth it, even if you leave confused. It's OK to be occasionally bewildered in the theater. A temporary cessation in interpretive control can open new cognitive portals. 'Evanston' may be too indulgently idiosyncratic to be considered a major work, but the play's offbeat appeal has a way of creating community out of thin air — or perhaps I should say out of a shared sensibility for wayward human comedy. Arbery's characters can't help betraying their ache for connection, even as they work steadfastly to cover up their need. Guillermo Cienfuegos, who directed Rogue Machine's superb production of 'Heroes of the Fourth Turning,' leans into the strangeness of 'Evanston' without losing sight of the delicate amiability that marks the characters' twisted behavior. Hugo Armstrong plays Basil and Michael Redfield plays Peter, the two salt truck drivers who are struggling to survive the frigid cold of their job and the emptiness of their lives. Both come to know loss, Basil as perpetrator and Peter as victim. But their bond, the way they help anchor each other, helps them face the desolation that seems to rise up from the very roads they clear. Mark Mendelson's scenic design, enhanced by Michelle Hanzelova-Bierbauer's projections, creates a wintry landscape in the middle of Los Angeles. A salt dome, a break room at the depot, the inside cab of one of the trucks and an Evanston living room make up this chilly theatrical cosmos. Basil and Peter's topsy-turvy banter has some of the hallmarks of an old-school comedy duo. Armstrong, who pilots the production with his barreling theatrical energy, adopts an accent that I initially took to be Russian or Eastern European but turns out to be Greek. The far-fetched nature of the persona — Armstrong's Basil might be mistaken for a religious cult leader — doesn't at all undermine the authenticity of the characterization. Basil reveals himself not through his biography but through his concern for others and his basic decency. He doesn't want anyone to succumb to the sadness that's always threatening to pull him under. Redfield's Peter is a blue-collar schlub fighting suicidal despair. His marriage has outrun its emotional validity. When his wife dies in a car accident on an icy road that he and Basil had salted, he's too stunned to feel much of anything, except perhaps guilt that his murderous fantasies had somehow come true. He's not a monster, though monstrous thoughts percolate within him. He cares for his young daughter as best he's able to, even if it means Domino's Pizza several nights a week. When Basil shares with him one of his wacky short stories, Peter always finds something nice to say, no matter how trivial. When Basil worries that his ideas are too out there, Peter reassures him that people are all weird. Lesley Fera, in the production's most endearing performance, plays Jane Maiworm, the public works administrator. Maiworm, as she's called on the job, is unfailingly friendly with Basil and Peter. (It turns out she's having an affair with Basil, but her Midwestern niceness is just part of who she is.) She comes up with a plan to modernize snow-clearing in Evanston, advocating for a new de-icing technology that would render salt trucks a thing of the past. She doesn't want to put Basil and Peter out of work, but the environmental case is too pressing to ignore. A widow, Maiworm is raising her adult stepdaughter, Jane Jr. (Kaia Gerber), whose emotional unsteadiness is a source of great consternation. As a mother, Maiworm has the best intentions, but work dominates her life. When problems arise, her habit is to seek administrative solutions rather than involve herself more personally. Gerber gives quirky life to Jane Jr.'s neurotic sensitivity. As self-dramatizing as she is self-effacing, the character is ill-equipped for everyday life. But her compassion gives her a remarkable lucidity about other people's struggles. Surreal figures crop up in 'Evanston,' including Jane Jacobs, the author of 'The Death and Life of Great American Cities.' Maiworm worships Jacobs' civic example, but Jacobs (played in burlesque fashion by Armstrong) suggests her acolyte doesn't really understand the lesson of her books, which is that neighborhoods get their vitality from the connections of people, not through best bureaucratic practices. Maiworm is an administrator who truly cares. But like everyone else in the play, she has trouble revealing the jumble of fears and longings locked inside her. Don't let the forbiddingly bureaucratic title fool you. The humanity of 'Evanston Salt Costs Climbing' will warm your heart.
