Review: Theo Ubique Scores Again With Riveting BLOOD BROTHERS

One of Chicago's best storefronts (and quite possibly one of the country's) Theo Ubique production of BLOOD BROTHERS gets to the heart (and relevance) of the show like nobody else can. The end results are heartfelt and engaging.

No easy feat. BLOOD BROTHERS, the third longest running musical in West End history, never really seemed to connect with American audiences. True, it did have both a successful two-year run on Broadway and a national tour, but the UK production ran from 1988 until 2012.

BLOOD BROTHERS is as much an indictment of the British class system as it is of the politics of the Thatcher administration. Brits have had centuries of life under a caste system and know that all the nurturing in the world is not enough to overcome the class system one is born into. Avenues of education, opportunity and advancement are different.

Here in 'Merica, where even the homeless guy on the end of my block still believes he's a potential millionaire who has simply fallen on hard times, it's hard for a show like this to resonnate. We tend to want to hold onto that aspect of the American dream that has we all start out on equal footing. We're happy to ignore anything to the contrary. It is only relatively recent that a majority of us have begun to realize how fixed the game really is.

And that is what makes the Fred Anzevino-directed production of BLOOD BROTHERS particularly relevant. Theo Ubique's production succeeds by honing in on the underlying economic and class issues with a clarity that indicates it might finally be the right time America to embrace this show.

Mrs. Johnstone (Kyrie Anderson) is a hard-working Catholic mother of six kids with another on the way. Abandoned by her husband, she takes a job as housekeeper for Mr. and Mrs. Lyons (Darren Hill and the perfectly uptight Victoria Oliver, respectively). The Lyons are wealthy enough to live in a large house on the posh side of town (and afford a housekeeper), but money doesn't buy happiness; Mrs. Lyons longs to have a child, but can't. Mr. Lyons won't think of adopting, though. When Mrs. Johnstone discovers she is expecting twins (it will be two additional mouths to feed), Mrs. Lyons hatches a scheme: with her husband away for several months on an extended business trip, she will pass one of the twins off as her own child.

Later, when Mrs. Lyons becomes irrationally jealous of the affection/attachment Johnstone has for the baby she has given up, Mrs. Lyons fires her, and -when Johnstone tries to take her baby back, plays into Johnstone's superstitious fears: twins separated at birth can never know they were twins or they will die.

Of course, the separated twins (Charlie Mann as Mickey Johnstone and Cody Jolly as Edward Lyons) keep crossing paths, eventually becoming bloodbrothers.

As the narrator, Jordan Phelps reminds one of a young Russell Crowe. His character -which taunts both mothers throughout the play about the unstoppable hand of fate and a "debt that must be paid" -- is both seductive and dangerous. The Faustian elements of the piece are creepy and work suprisingly well in the intimate space.

I connected a bit more with Mann's Mickey than I did with Jolly's Edward. The book doesn't really give Edward much room for growth and development. He's in love with Mickey's girl (a sweet and fiesty Dana Anderson as Linda), but his wealthy upbringing allows him to never fully grow up to some extent. Mann's Mickey, on the other hand, has his dreams repeatedly crushed by the reality of his class and education.

Each twin has a solo (Mickey has "Long Sunday Afternoon" and Eddie has "I'm Not Saying a Word") and in previous productions the pieces have served as matching bookends. Here, Mickey longs for his friend and Eddie pines for his friend's girl. Though Jolly does a good job of showing how much his character is pained by this, the character still comes off slightly shallow (but perhaps that is the point).

Anderson gives a stellar performance as Johnstone. Her Johnstone is a fiercly protective and yet vulnerable mother cub whose hopes and heartbreak are the core of the show. When she sings, every note is weighted with the emotion behind it. Anderson makes you completely understand the stakes and your heart breaks along side hers as her twin sons' fates playout before you.

The show's pop score is superbly directly by Jeremy Ramey (as is often the case at Theo Ubique, the four-piece pit orchestra sounds bigger and fuller than you would expect and the overture sung by the entire company is particularly sweeping in scope). Bill Morey's costumes highlight the class distinctions of their respective characters nicely, as well.

Theo Ubique's production of BLOOD BROTHERS runs through Nov. 15 at the No Exit Cafe, 6970 N. Glenwood. Tickets, $34-$39. www.theo-u.com

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