TimeLine's four-star 'What the Constitution Means to Me' as timely as ever

“What the Constitution Means to Me” - ★ ★ ★ ★

A sense of urgency underscores “What the Constitution Means to Me,” Heidi Schreck's thought-provoking examination of the Constitution that opened off-Broadway in 2018 and became a Broadway hit the following year.

It was evident in the 2020 touring production, whose Chicago run at the Broadway Playhouse was cut short by the pandemic. Three years later, that urgency is more pronounced, which is reflected in TimeLine Theatre's impeccably realized, deeply resonant revival, opening as state legislatures around the country are moving to restrict voting, reproductive and civil rights.

Calling “What the Constitution Means to Me” timely is an understatement.

A combination theater piece, civics lesson and memoir, this deftly constructed play essentially chronicles the oppression of women - like Indigenous people, people of color and members of the LGBTQ community - who were excluded from the foundational document crafted by white male landowners for white male landowners.

It is a flawed text, which Schreck's play acknowledges. But it's one beloved by 15-year-old Heidi, the playwright's younger self and a self-described constitutional zealot superbly played by Libertyville's Beth Lacke.

We initially meet Heidi as a 40-something, who recalls how as a precocious, people-pleasing 15-year-old she earned college tuition participating in American Legion-sponsored oratory contests. Shifting back to her teenage self, Heidi recites her winning speech comparing the Constitution to a witch's caldron “in which you put many different ingredients and boil them together until they transform into something else. Something that is magical.”

As the play progresses, middle-aged Heidi examines the Constitution's failure to recognize women and to protect them from domestic and sexual violence, to which her female family members were subjected by their spouses. Among them was Heidi's great-grandmother, a mail-order bride purchased for $75 who died at 36 of “melancholia”; Heidi's grandmother, who was regularly beaten by her second husband; and an aunt who was sexually assaulted by her stepfather.

Lacke's Heidi expresses in wrenching detail their trauma as well as her own. She also shares how she exercised her Constitutional right to privacy inferred by the 9th amendment and her right to equal protection included in the 14th amendment. Both were used to affirm reproductive choice until the U.S. Supreme Court's decision Dobbs v. Jackson Women's Health Organization overturned that constitutional right 11 months ago.

All of this unfolds under the watchful eye of The Legionnaire (a gently expressive Raymond Fox), the affable contest host who explains rules, enforces time limits and represents “positive male energy.”

Except for a beautifully delivered monologue late in the play about a father's compassion that prevented his young son from succumbing to toxic masculinity, Fox's Legionnaire spends most of the play listening. But his subtle facial expressions speak volumes, suggesting a man recognizing and atoning for whatever complicity he may have had in subjugating women.

But it's Lacke's empathetic, emotional and unfailingly honest performance - suffused with righteous indignation and humor - that propels director Helen Young's smooth, well-paced production, the first of two revivals scheduled for the Chicago area this year. (The second begins previews Oct. 4 at Aurora's Copley Theatre).

At one point, late in the play, Lacke and Fox extend their arms to each other and briefly clasp hands. A fleeting expression of comfort, it's an acknowledgment of shared pain, and the first step to easing it.

But there's more to this play than pathos. There are laughs. They began as the lights dim when a mimic doing a clever impression of our Commander in Chief gave a curtain speech that elicited chuckles from the audience.

Set in 1989, the action unfolds on Jessica Kuehnau Wardell's frozen-in-time set. It's a spot-on re-creation of a small-town, mid-20th century Legion hall dominated by cheap paneling, patriotic bunting and photographs of white men.

As ever, the play concludes with a debate between Lacke and a Chicago high school student - Sophie Ackerman and the smart, self-possessed Makalah Simpson (who performed at Wednesday's press opening), who alternate playing the role of The Debater. The motion under dispute: Whether to preserve the Constitution or abolish it and start anew.

At Wednesday's press performance, Lacke argued it is time to stop “listening to dead people.”

“Let's end zombie law,” she said.

Simpson argued in favor of the Constitution, urging the audience to improve it. Protest, run for office, she said, work for change, “build your way out.”

And, as ever, vote.

Location: TimeLineTheatre, 615 W. Wellington Ave., Chicago, (773) 281-8463, ext. 6, or timelinetheatre.com

Showtimes: 7:30 p.m. Thursday; 8 p.m. Friday; 4 and 8 p.m. Saturday; 2 p.m. Sunday through July 2. Also 7:30 p.m. May 24, June 7 and 21; 2 p.m. June 1, 15, 22 and 29. No 4 p.m. show May 20 and June 25

Running time: About 100 minutes, no intermission

Tickets: $47-$62

Parking: Nearby garage and street parking

Rating: For teens and older; contains mature subject matter and language; references domestic violence and sexual assault

COVID-19 precautions: Masks optional