Displaying items by tag: Jason Alexander

Dark comedies built around relationship dynamics have always drawn me in because they reveal conflict with a kind of honesty that feels both familiar and unpredictable. When couples clash, the humor isn’t just situational; it’s rooted in history, habit, and the tiny emotional landmines only long-term partners know how to trigger. Fault fits squarely into that tradition, taking the everyday rhythms of a long marriage and pushing them just far enough to expose the raw, funny, and uncomfortable truths beneath the surface. That blend of recognition and surprise is exactly what makes this kind of comedy so compelling, and why Fault lands with such a specific charge.

That sense of intimate volatility is exactly what Jason Alexander explores in his return to Chicago Shakespeare Theater. With Fault, he brings the sharp directorial instinct he showed in his earlier CST production Judgment Day and applies it to a far more contained emotional landscape. In this world premiere written by Scooter Pietsch, he shapes the play’s tightening grid of tension and moral uncertainty with a touch that feels both precise and unexpectedly humane. The result is a tightly focused piece driven by tension that sparks almost instantly - less an explosive outburst than a controlled shift in the room - with the personal fractures between the characters steering the story toward its breaking point.

Pictured are Enrico Colantoni (Jerry), Playwright Scooter Pietsch, Rebecca Spence (Lucy), Nick Marini (Shaun), and Director Jason Alexander. April 18– May 24, 2026, in The Yard at Chicago Shakespeare. Photo by Justin Barbin.

In Fault, the night detonates the moment Jerry Green walks in expecting to celebrate a career defining merger and instead finds his wife, Lucy, in an intimate moment with a young man she has just met, Shaun. What could have ended in a single, stunned confrontation instead becomes the spark for a long, spiraling night in which no one is allowed to leave, and nothing stays contained. The shock of the discovery quickly gives way to a volatile mix of accusations, shifting alliances, and long suppressed grievances, turning their home into a closed-door standoff where every truth feels like a trap and every explanation opens a deeper wound. Jerry and Lucy have long operated as a high functioning power couple, relying on professional unity to keep their marriage steady; once that balance collapses, the cracks at home widen just as quickly. It is interesting that Pietsch also underscores the irony that Jerry’s career‑defining merger has just made the couple newly minted billionaires after a long string of failures, and yet - proving that all the money in the world can’t change some people - they still behave like high‑achieving narcissists, turning their blame and abuse on each other and on the young stranger they’ve invited into their lavish home.

As the hours stretch on, the situation tilts from chaotic to revealing, exposing the fractures that have been quietly shaping this marriage for decades. Jerry’s need for control, Lucy’s hunger for something unspoken, and Shaun’s unexpected presence collide in ways that force each of them to confront what they’ve been avoiding. What begins as a moment of betrayal becomes a full-scale excavation of loyalty, resentment, and the stories couples tell themselves to stay intact. The play’s dark humor emerges from this escalating tension - how quickly a single mistake can unravel a life, and how a marriage can be tested most brutally not by the act itself, but by everything it brings to the surface. And just to remind you, this is a comedy - and a hilarious one at that.

Jerry even admits at one point that arguments never really have winners, a truth he delivers with the weary certainty of someone who has spent years circling the same conversational battlegrounds. Yet the play understands something deeper and more uncomfortable: that couples can become strangely addicted to the very banter that exhausts them. The back‑and‑forth may bruise, but it also affirms a shared language, a familiar rhythm, a way of feeling alive inside a relationship that has otherwise gone quiet. In Fault, that warped need becomes both a source of comedy and a mirror held up to the audience, revealing how easily love and combat can blur when two people know each other too well.

For all its blistering comedy, Fault is threaded with the quieter, more unsettling realizations that come with aging - what it means to feel your desirability slipping, to lose track of the person you married, or to crave the parts of yourself you fear have vanished. The betrayals at the center of the play aren’t just about infidelity; they’re about the desperate need to feel seen, wanted, and alive again. Beneath the chaos and sharp-edged humor runs a steady pulse of vulnerability, as each character confronts the version of themselves they’ve been avoiding. And just when the night seems like it can’t twist any further, the play barrels into a smash bang ending that lands with real force - the kind that sends audiences out buzzing, debating, and replaying the final moments long after the curtain comes down.

Presenting the world premiere dark comedy Fault, by Scooter Pietsch and directed by Jason Alexander. Featuring Enrico Colantoni (Jerry) and Nick Marini (Shaun). Photo by Justin Barbin.

The cast of Fault features three principal performers, each driving a different charge in the play’s volatile, rapidly escalating night. Enrico Colantoni gives Jerry Green a grounded, lived in presence, letting decades of pent up frustration surface through tightly controlled physical choices and a dry comic timing that makes his smallest shifts register. Opposite him, Chicago favorite Rebecca Spence shapes Lucy Green with a blend of wit, restraint, and emotional clarity; her sharp physical beats and instinctive timing keep each exchange taut while still allowing the humor to flicker through. Shaun, whose chance encounter with Lucy at the bar leads him into the Green household, played by Nick Marini, adds a destabilizing charge to the night, using quick, reactive movement and an agile sense of timing to tilt the dynamic just enough to expose the deeper fractures beneath the couple’s carefully maintained surface.

Their combined work is strengthened by the breadth of experience each actor brings to the stage. Colantoni’s long career in film and television, including standout turns in Veronica Mars and Galaxy Quest, gives his performance a steady, lived in weight. Spence, a Chicago mainstay with a Jeff Award and recent visibility in The Madison, brings sharp focus and emotional clarity to Lucy. Marini adds a younger charge to the trio, drawing on credits like Cobra Kai and Dropout TV to shape a presence that subtly disrupts the relationship dynamic.

The action unfolds inside a tastefully appointed luxury home crafted by scenic designer Paul Tate DePoo III, who gives the Greens a space that gleams with success without ever feeling sterile. A streamlined bar sits at the rear of the room, and the warm finishes, refined furnishings, and subtle touches make the environment inviting rather than ostentatious - a polished retreat that still feels lived in. It’s the kind of setting that should radiate comfort and control, yet under Alexander’s direction it gradually sharpens, its clean lines and curated surfaces taking on a quiet tension as the night begins to break down.

Alexander’s own trajectory mirrors that same level of craft, extending far beyond the stage. Although Jason Alexander is widely known for his television work on Seinfeld and film roles ranging from Pretty Woman to Shallow Hal, he brings none of that celebrity shorthand to Fault. Instead, his decades in front of the camera seem to refine his instincts behind the table. His sense of timing, character shaping, and emotional pacing reflect the precision of someone who has lived inside stories of every scale. It’s a résumé that could easily overshadow a production, yet here it deepens his approach, grounding the play’s volatility in choices that feel thoughtful rather than showy.

Running just ninety minutes without an intermission, Fault maintains a tight, steady pulse that matches the tightening chamber of its late-night unraveling. Chicago Shakespeare Theater presents the world premiere through May 26, offering audiences a sharply observed look at a marriage pushed past its breaking point. What stays with you isn’t only the tension or the humor, but the clarity of the production itself, which recognizes how a single, seismic domestic shift can rattle everything a couple has built, sending shockwaves through a foundation that once seemed unshakeable.

Highly recommended.

For tickets and/or more show information, click here.

This review is proudly shared with our friends at www.TheatreInChicago.com.  

Crowds will flock to see “Judgment Day,” having its world premiere at Chicago Shakespeare Theater on Navy Pier. While many will be drawn by its star, Emmy and Tony-winning actor Jason Alexander of “Seinfeld” fame (George Costanza), and he is definitely a draw—but just one of many—in this remarkably funny, highly polished play by Rob Ulin.

With perfect comedic delivery, Alexander plays Sammy Campo, a craven lawyer who has gained riches continuously by winning cases at any cost, ethics be damned. From the moment Alexander begins his audacious performance, fueled by the razor wit of Ulin’s smart script, the audience was laughing and we knew, this is a comedy.

Yet “Judgment Day” treats serious subjects, a truly thoughtful discernment of weighty values and living a purposeful life. We hear throughout the play an important conversation going on, the laughter taking down barriers to really listening. This is a morality play, and a good one, in the mold of Moliere blending serious matters with fun. Sammy goes through a spiritual journey, not so different than Dicken's Ebenezer Scrooge. But "Judgment Day" has the added power of swimming in contemporary mores and values.

Jason Alexander stars as a corrupt lawyer attempting to make amends with the help of a conflicted priest, played by Daniel Breaker, in the world premiere comedy Judgment Day at Chicago Shakespeare Theater. 

Sammy may soon be disbarred—for seedy practices such as suborning perjury from witnesses. As his secretary Della (Olivia D. Dawson is marvelous) delivers a world-weary litany of the sketchy legal methods for which Sammy may lose his law license, her droll deadpan is interrupted repeatedly by Sammy’s frantic interjections, after each of which she resumes undeterred, eliciting big laughs.

Della lets us know Sammy once convinced a client to saw off his own leg to win a claim. “It almost worked,” says Sammy, revealing his breathtaking depravity and lack of moral compass with such complete unselfconsciousness the only response we can have is to laugh. It’s clear that Della has seen it all, and knows Sammy’s MO only too well.

Working from Golden Globe winner Ulin’s extremely witty script, Tony-nominated director Moritz von Stuelpnagel coaxes split second timing from Della and Sammy, establishing the standard of interplay among actors that we will enjoy all evening. Without spoiling the fun, let’s just say Sonny passes out and falls to the floor.
“You dead?” Stella queries. And we laugh.

Not quite dead, it turns out, and following the ensuing near death experiences, the recovered Sammy decides to straighten up his life. But he hasn’t changed one iota. Always calculating, he goes to confession and meets Father Michael (Daniel Breaker is superb), putting it to him baldly: “What’s the least amount of good I can do to avoid going to hell?”

Father Michael, a conflicted priest in a crisis of faith, is the perfect pairing with Sammy, and much of the rest of the play is the two jousting abouty moral values, and whether good works for selfish reasons merits a heavenly reward. The heavy intellectual lifting falls to Father Michael, as he guides Sammy in his moral quest. (Breaker played Aron Burr in "Hamilton" and originated the role of "Donkey" in Skrek the Musical.) A lengthy scene puts the two together in a car during a stakeout. Bantering about issues personal and moral, Father Michael's inner struggle is revealed. The scene would have been at home on "Seinfeld," except unlike the series famed for being "about nothing," this one is about something. 

As we get to know Father Michael—and for that matter the rest of the cast including the wife Sammy walked out on (Tracy Bofill) and his young son (Ellis Myers); Angel (Candy Buckley) Sammy’s deceased teacher (now in wings and a habit); a struggling widow Edna (Meg Thalken); Father Michael’s superior (Michael Kostroff as Monsignor); even the Principal (also played by Dawson)—each of these characters are so intriguing I wanted to see more of them, perhaps in another setting (spin-off shows?).

Notably, most of the cast and creative team make their Chicago Shakespeare Theater debuts in this show, many cast from New York. Chicago is a good setting for testing out this play, which like the city is very Catholic (no less than three scenes are in confessionals) but this is neither off-putting nor irreverent. In fact, it's a study in the transformation of the Catholic Church since the 1960s, beautifully expressed. And tt's another home run for CST's new artistic director, Edward Hall. 

Presented in The Yard, Chicago Shakespeare’s newest, state-of-the art space, the stage itself allows large audiences to have an intimate theater experience. Scene changes (Beowolf Boritt does scenic design) whisk in and out as fast as camera cuts in the movies.The adaptable Yard, which can when needed replicate the courtyard stage of Shakespeare’s Globe, here simulates a proscenium space, with upstage and downstage, stage left and right all part of the action. This gives an immediacy and presence to the performance for the audience that surpasses anything I have seen in New York, London, or elsewhere in Chicago. You are drawn into the show, and the experience is captivating.

Suffice it to say, “Judgment Day” comes highly recommended: an excellent play, performed and directed beautifully, and a story that will stay with you. “Judgment Day” runs through May 26, 2024 at Chicago Shakespeare Theater.

*Extended through June 2nd