I had trouble writing up the latest play I saw for Centerstage, because I felt so conflicted about what I’d seen. Under the Blue Sky by David Eldridge has received rave reviews everywhere it’s been performed, including here in Chicago. It’s well-written, with natural dialogue and smart commentary.

But the characters were straight out of the Cliché Grab Bag. We had the Emotionally Unstable Woman who frantically waved a knife at her lover rather than let him move away, the Slut Who Only Does It Cuz She Hates Herself, and the Shy Young Man Who’s Secretly a Pervert. Still, the actors played them well, and with a considerable amount of subtlety. And there were some twists that undermined the clichés somewhat. But why make them the premise in the first place?

(Also, the male actor in the final scene seemed to be constantly forgetting his lines, not entirely, just enough to throw off the rhythm entirely. Must’ve been frustrating for his female counterpart.)

Here’s an excerpt of my play review:

And what private moments these are. The first two vignettes show so-called friends at their worst, people treating each other so badly that they even come right out and comment on how ugly the situation is.

You can read the rest here.