Ghastly tales make up deliciously macabre musical 'Shockheaded Peter'
The problem with Black Button Eyes' splendid revival of the irresistibly grim “Shockheaded Peter” at Chicago's Athenaeum Theatre is the length of the run.
It's too short.
To be sure, the musical's grisly tales depicting the fate that befalls naughty children and neglectful parents aren't for everyone. But those willing to step outside their comfort zones will reap the rewards of director Ed Rutherford's shrewdly staged, swift-moving revival, which marks the first Chicago production since the musical's 2001 national tour.
Adapted from Heinrich Hoffmann's 1845 collection of children's verses “Der Struwwelpeter,” “Shockheaded Peter” was created by Julian Crouch and Phelim McDermott with a buoyantly discordant, calliope-infused score by the British trio The Tiger Lillies. Sly, menacing and occasionally lovely, the score recalls Kurt Weil and Bertolt Brecht, with a hint of John Kander and Fred Ebb's “Cabaret.” It lends a macabre beauty - deftly channeled by Rutherford and his talented cast - to the show, which consists of vignettes depicting children whose cruelty, disobedience or inattention proves fatal in ghastly ways.
Think of it as Grand Guignol on an intimate scale. Presiding over this deliciously decadent combination of cabaret and carnival sideshow is the Shakespeare-quoting MC (fine work by a disconcertingly charismatic Kevin Webb), who narrates Hoffmann's tales.
In one, bullies torment a boy until a righteous neighbor Agrippa (Lisle native Ellen DeSitter) steps in. Vicious Frederick (the ghoulishly cherubic Anthony Whitaker) gets bit by Trey (Josh Kemper), the dog he abused. After playing with matches, precocious pyromaniac Harriet (Caitlin Jackson) meets a fiery end, cleverly conjured by Beth Laske-Miller, whose rich-looking costumes are playfully period appropriate. Fidgety Phil (Kat Evans of Wheaton) is filleted by cutlery he can't sit still long enough to use. And Robert (Genevieve Lerner) learns the hard way why children should stay indoors during rainstorms.
Kids aren't the only ones who suffer the consequences of their choices. Cody Jolly and Stephanie Stockstill play a wealthy Victorian couple who have everything except a child. The stork (conveyed by a puppet with blood-soaked feathers) eventually arrives. But the baby, who has hair like a fright wig and extra-long fingernails, repulses the couple, who lock him away. They descend into alcoholism and madness, punishment for their complicity in their child's demise.
Rutherford cleverly sets the action in a children's playroom, designed by Bensenville native Jeremiah Barr who also created the puppets and props. Blood stains the checkerboard floor, skeleton parts adorn the walls and oversize alphabet blocks spell out the word “die.”
Subtle it's not. Then again, morality tales aren't meant to be subtle. As for the show's violence - highly stylized in BBE's incarnation - it reflects the brutal tales that inspired it. The result is a perversely appealing show whose darkly lovely moments include a poignant ballet choreographed by Derek Van Barham and performed by Lerner.
Music director/conductor TJ Anderson (keyboards, fluegelhorn and trumpet) leads a skilled quintet that includes bassist Cody “Goose” Siragusa, percussionist Cali Kasten and singer/instrumentalists Pavi Proczko and Gwen Tulin, “Shockheaded Peter's” resident troubadours.
Also deserving mention are the nimble, multihyphenates - actor/singers, dancers, acrobats, puppeteers and circus artists - who make up BBE's cast. Unfortunately, you have only a limited time to experience them. “Shockheaded Peter” closes Sept. 16.
And that's the real tragedy.
“Shockheaded Peter”
★ ★ ★ ½
Location: Athenaeum Theatre, 2936 N. Southport Ave., Chicago, (773) 935-6875 or
Showtimes: 7:30 p.m. Thursday through Saturday and 2 p.m. Sunday; through Sept. 16
Tickets: $32
Running time: About 65 minutes, no intermission
Parking: Metered street parking available; paid parking in the lot shared with St. Alphonsus Catholic Church
Rating: Recommended for viewers 13 and older, includes violence and unsettling scenes that could upset sensitive theatergoers