Once upon a time I went to a show and it was called The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity. It was by Kristoffer Diaz and it was directed by Jeremy Aluma. It was about a man named Mace (Alejandro Tey) who was a wrestler. He was trying to make his name known and call attention to the social injustice in the wrestling world, while still trying to keep his job. The wrestling world is dominated by everyone’s favorite wrestler, Chad Deity (Semaj Miller), and is run by EKO (Mickey O’Sullivan). Mace invites a person his brother and his other brother played basketball with, VP (Priyank Thakkar) to audition to be a wrestler because VP is so great at self-promotion and seems like he can get anything he wants. It is about justice, being the guy in the background who always gets defeated, and fame. I think this is a really great show. It is a great concept with fluid dialogue and beautiful acting. I loved it.

This show has really good direct address. It is not just there for no reason. The audience is a character. Mace is talking to someone and is trying to get his point across. He is talking to the audience as a person. He is the narrator but he is also part of the story which I think is a very important thing you need when you want to do direct address. I liked how he had the power to bend time and step in and out of the story. Like when he is fighting with Chad Deity, he speaks about how he is feeling and how they are helping each other. There is also one part where VP steps in and says I am going to do the talking for Mace over here really quick because he is sort of busy doing this fight, which shows that it is not just Mace that has all of the power. It is more of a communal thing, which is more interesting to watch because you get to see multiple people’s perspectives on what is happening in the story in the moment.

I really loved the way the play started and how they kept coming back to the same story. The story was about Mace’s brother and other brother and how they all used to watch wrestling together. They had these dolls that didn’t really move at all and they would eat soggy knock-off cereal. They kept coming back to this story because it was an important image in his mind; it is why he got into wrestling. He would study the moves. Wrestling is an escape from reality for him: that he is eating soggy knock-off cereal and he had the immovable doll wrestling guys. Even though the dolls look awesome, they are not fun to play with. He doesn’t want to be a wrestling guy in a permanent pose; he would rather be fun to play with and movable. Even though he doesn’t really like being the one who never wins even though he is more talented, he enjoys other aspects of his job, like being in one of the most popular wrestling shows at the time. He becomes a different person throughout the play; he sees wrestling not just as a dream job but as a job that has a bunch of problems. That kind of relates to the dolls, because he becomes aware of the world around him. He is not one of those stuck in a strong guy pose. He is responsive.

I think the fights (by fight director Kyle Encinas) were really accurate and cool. They reminded me of the channels I usually skip past on tv because wrestling usually grosses me out, but I didn’t want to skip past this channel. I thought it was super intriguing. It reminded me a lot of the actual sort-of-stagey fights they do in professional wrestling; I think they translate well to the stage because they are already so theatrical. I really liked how the play wasn’t trying to glorify wrestling. It was showing the good parts and the flaws. Wrestling is used to talk about social injustice instead of just being there for the fighting aspects. That doesn’t mean the fighting itself wasn’t amazing, it just gave it more depth and more reason for it to be there. I really liked when Mace was showing everyone how he and Chad Deity would fight. It all seemed super dramatic but then when he was telling us how it all actually happened, it seemed a lot less painful because he showed how he was acting and how he was not getting really physically hurt. Chad Deity was protecting him in the ring. And he gives Chad Deity all the glory even though he is not as good of a wrestler. Just because Chad Deity is more of an American Hero to people means that he has to win everything because the American fans want the American to win. Mace and VP are also American, but they have to pretend that they are not so there is a motivation for fans to hate them. Wrestling basically uses racism and xenophobia to make it so all the fans are rooting for the same person. Wrestling in this play seems to have more villains than heroes, which I don’t think is a really good worldview. It is too simple because in the real world there are very few people who are totally evil. But the play isn’t simple because it calls attention to these problems in wrestling and has a lot of people who do good things, like Chad Deity, Mace, and VP. But nobody’s perfect. EKO is the villain but that is because he is representing what is wrong with wrestling: the racism, willful ignorance, crassness, and how money is the whole reason it exists.

People who would like this show are people who like amazing fights, flexible strong guys, and soggy knock-off cereal. I think people should definitely go see this show. It was a beautiful story and made me see wrestling in a new way. It made me think a lot about how the world is consuming racism and all these things they say they are against and not even noticing it. I really loved this show.

– Ada Grey

This is a one-hour podcast. From around 27:00 to 37:00 they critique our production of Chad Deity.

This is a two-hour podcast. From around 21:30 to around 28:00 they critique our production of Chad Deity.

This is an 80-minute wrestling podcast. The first 15 minutes are dedicated to the show.

“The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity” by Kristoffer Diaz, a 2010 Pulitzer finalist in drama, currently in production by Red Theater Chicago at Strawdog Theatre, 1802 W. Berenice, Chicago, through September 16, throws a one-two punch to the consciousness. It reveals the truth about scripted/staged American television wrestling both in terms of the “fake” nature of the fighting and in the choice of the way the “opponents” are marketed. The propagandistic stereotyping of the performer’s ethnic groups under the guise of American patriotism serves as a satiric parody of the culture war clash currently taking place in the U.S.

The taut direction by Jeremy Aluma, terrific set design including a full wrestling ring by scenic and props designer Michael Lewis, super effective costumes by Hailey Rakowiecki, clever projections by Brian Lawrie, spot-on lighting by Charles Blunt, and intriguing sound design by Sarah D. Espinoza combine to set a fascinating scene. The excellent cast performances including amazingly talented physically challenging wrestling coached by fight director Kyle Encinas create a stunning group effort.

The language pours forth in beautifully crafted streams of commentary and self-revealing reflection from the central character, Puerto Rican-American Macedonio (“Mace”) Guerra, as he delivers an exegesis on the sport and an explication of his life, while simultaneously/alternately and fluidly participating in the action on stage. “The value is not in the fight, it’s in the communion”, he proclaims.

Mace describes growing up with “my brother and my brother”; on Saturday mornings, in their Underoos, consuming ersatz Frosted Flakes, they play with various action figure/wrestlers. Mace is enthralled with the more realistic version which are smaller but have movable parts. He grows up to believe he has garnered his portion of the American Dream – he’s the fall guy for “Chad Deity”, THE Wrestling’s front man and champion. Mace waxes poetic in fractured Bronx prose about the beauty of the male bonding teamwork in the sport, but allows himself to be marginalized in performance. He philosophically accepts the yoke of presenting himself as a Hispanic/foreign threat figure, “Che Chavez Castro”. In reflecting on his role as foil, he philosophizes, “You can only kick someone’s ass if you have the help of the person whose ass you are kicking”. This is entertainment?!

One day Mace’s brothers introduce him to VP (Vigneshwar Paduar), a Brooklyn street basketball legend and womanizer extraordinaire who fascinates with his ability to patter so successfully in so many languages. Mace brings his newfound friend into the world of THE Wrestling, Thus begins a series of exploitations of both men, with VP portrayed as a diabolical Muslim threat, “The Fundamentalist”. The complex role switching brings the piece to its many-layered denouement.

The language used may be shocking to the sheltered, but the twists and turns of the plot as Mace’s knowledge of repeated betrayals- until he’s pushed into his own betrayal- are nothing short of brilliant. In the end, it is difficult to separate out the real motives of the charachters from our suspicions and pre-conceived notions, and certainly that is one of the most telling aspects of this very entertaining and thought provoking work.

Starring: Will Snyder and Dave Honigman as bad guys who are really good guys with Honigman doubling as the smugly knowing referee; Alejandro Tey in a multi-dimensional winning performance as Mace; Mickey O’Sullivan, who provides a wonderfully vibrant caricature of EKO, THE Wrestling’s boss; Semaj Miller as the wildly confident champ who bluffs so much you almost can’t tell he has a heart of gold; and Priyank Thakkar as the glib, knowing, lovable VP.

Lest this reviewer be remiss, I must point out that it’s much more than a cerebral play- there is high intensity audience involvement from the get-go and lots of laughs- this play is a must-see.

– Debra Davy

My favorite wrestlers are long-ago champs Sweet Daddy Siki and Haystacks Calhoun. Time Past they may be, yet their wrestling personae, their role stereotypes, would be readily familiar today. You’ll find similar characters in this athletic yet thoughtful play, which had its world premiere at Chicago’s Victory Gardens Theater in 2010.

Author Kristoffer Diaz makes professional wrestling his metaphor for America, readily admitting that even lowest-common-denominator fans know it’s scripted and phony. However, just as with some other types of entertainment and even politics, the phoniness is what enables wrestling to exploit racial, ethnic, religious, social and class stereotypes in creating the good and bad guys upon which wrestling thrives. Reflective of contemporary America, the title character, Chad Deity, is an African-American good guy while his opponents often are other shades of brown viewed as America’s enemies, among them supposed Mexican and Islamic baddies.

The narrator and hero is Macedonio Guerra ( lithely muscular Alejandro Tey ), a Nuyorican appearing as Mace for THE Wrestling ( a corporate name ). Mace is a jobber, a skilled grappler paid to lose to stars such as Deity ( Semaj Miller ) and make the stars look better than they are in the process. Mace is perfectly happy to “do the heavy lifting,” declaring “I am one of THE wrestlers, and I love who I am.” He views his rise in pro wrestling as fulfillment of the American Dream. But even Mace’s tolerance of the manipulation of bigotry reaches the breaking point in his confrontations with Deity and THE Wrestling executive EKO ( Mickey O’Sullivan ).

The catalyst for Mace’s change is Vigneshwar Paduar or VP ( Priyank Thakkar ), a charismatic Indian-American whom Mace pitches to EKO as a great potential wrestling partner. VP is a natural in ways which are increasingly provocative, especially when EKO casts him as a Middle Eastern villain.

Michael Lewis’ setting is a small but real wrestling ring, with noisily-sprung floor and pliant ropes. The extensive wrestling action is real, although the intimate theater allows one to observe how moves are done and punches pulled. Kudos to director Jeremy Aluma, fight director Kyle Encinas and fight captain Will Snyder for the vibrant and exciting physical action.

Despite its physicality, Diaz doesn’t play his characters stupid for a second and neither does the agile, ebullient, believable cast, with Tey especially thoughtful.

– Jonathan Abarbanel

The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity is nothing if not a topical play; both in the wrestling world and the world outside the squared circle. Set against the backdrop of the wrestling’s jingoistic tendencies and the promotors consistent lack of faith in intelligent audiences, The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity explores what it’s like to be a young, idealistic performer of color working for a mass media machine.

Red Theater’s production is raw, hard hitting (literally) and walks a fine line between the absurdity of these tendencies and the absolute horror that they persist. The stage is a literal wrestling ring and the audience is encouraged to participate before the lights go up and the first bell rings. Cleverly this sets the stage for a weak fourth wall as much of the play is narrated by Macedonia Guerra or “Mace”, jobber to the stars.

Alejandro Tey plays Mace with a genuine underdog spirit. Mace knows how horrible wrestling can be, especially for a skinny performer of color (he even encourages the audience to google Muhammad Hassan when they leave!), but he also believes in how incredibly transforming good wrestling can be. He doesn’t mind making the other guys look good, he just needs to tell one true story before he’s done.

This underdog spirit is constantly challenged when faced with EKO, the promoter of THE Wrestling company (see what they did there…) and his simplistic view of wrestling. Big guys make money. Little guys help the big guys make money. Big guys get elaborate entrances. Little guys are “already in the ring”. Mickey O’Sullivan plays EKO disgustingly well. It’s like if Vince McMahon had sex with a 1950’s casting director and they had a baby who only survived on cocaine, misery and money. He puts on a performance appropriately full of crotch grabs, wild gestures, and absolute scumminess.

Chad Deity played by Semaj Miller is a constant reminder to Mace that not only will he never be Chad Deity, but that Chad Deity would be nothing without Mace to make him look good. Except Chad gets all the money (because somehow, we exist in a world where you make more money if you win a PREDETERMINED fight).

Miller’s over the top performance as a John Cena meets Ric Flair meets The Rock top guy while entertaining, falls a little flat. There is a certain amount of believing your own bull that needs to accompany an elaborate entrance and a silly finisher that does not come through right away. However, as the play progresses and we delve deeper into Deity’s psyche, Miller brings a dark edge to the character that solidifies the performance. In true wrestling fashion, he gets more over the more he leans into his heel persona.

Mace, attempting to find his one true story, meets a smooth talking, rapping Indian hot shot playing basketball in Brooklyn. VP, played by Priyank Thakkar, is presented as a man that could sell Cena merch to a smark and Thakkar’s performance makes you believe it. Mace brings VP into THE Wrestling to be his manager, but unfortunately his plans quickly go sideways as EKO only sees two men with brown skin and “he knows how to sell that”. He repackages VP in the stereotypical middle eastern heel persona known as “The Fundamentalist” complete with an offensive finisher (the superkick is now the ominous “Sleeper Cell”) and Mace as a Mexican communist Guerrilla fighter known as Che Chavez Castro.

Interestingly, Chad Deity is a black man which reinforces the stereotype that black men can be powerful, but only if they are athletes entertaining America. Mace at one point even says something to the effect of “EKO doesn’t see Deity as black because he makes him so much money”. Having the star of THE Wrestling be a black man juxtaposed against a Puerto Rican character and an Indian character who are consistently mistreated also brings into question society’s idea of what is racist and “PC”. In the play EKO gets called out for making a KKK reference, but blatantly confuses several Middle Eastern countries and thinks that Mexico has nothing to do with the history of wrestling. Cleverly highlighting a problem that the entertainment industry is still struggling with.

While Mace and VP try and breath truth into their offensively stereotypical heel personas they are not only met with bigoted crowds, but with constant reminders that their purpose is to make the star, Chad Deity, look good. The more despicable and the more hated they are the more the audience roots for Chad. The more the crowd boos, the more they question whether they are helping to enforce these steroptypes or if their desire for social commentary is breaking through to the audience. Mace must confront himself and the things he’s willing to do to belong in the wrestling world he loves so much.

What was especially enjoyable about this production was how much actual wrestling there was!

Will Snyder, a former indie wrestler himself, plays several different characters throughout the play and helps to create the feeling of being at a real wrestling show. Playing characters indicative of Sgt. Slaughter, the Bushwackers, and Hacksaw Jim Duggan he put on some pretty solid matches with the other actors. Especially impressive was Tey’s skills in the ring considering he never wrestling before (though he had circus training). Rounding out the cast was the farcical but ever enjoyable brown nosing referee played by Dave Honigman.

While I whole heartedly disagree with the dramaturgical statement that “Professional Wrestling is not for everybody”, I can say that everybody can find something to root for in Red Theater Chicago’s rendition of The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity. With poignant social commentary, layered performances and some pretty fun wrestling to boot it’s the perfect play for non-wrestling and wrestling fans alike.

4.5 out of 5 stars

– Stella

RECOMMENDED

From the moment Macedonio “Mace” Guerro (Alejandro Tey) takes off his mask and talks about growing up in the Bronx until the lights fade out on Chad Deity (Semaj Miller) holding the champion’s belt, the elaborate entrances never stop. Maybe that’s because the only vital promise that The Wrestling (a close analogue to WWE) can offer is an elaborate entrance, a big show, where substance is secondary to spectacle.

“The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity” is all substance though, a fabulous production with wonderful interplay between text and stage with six actors equal parts cartoonish and real. It is a social allegory that places people of color next to the stereotype they’re expected to perform if they want to participate in the American Dream.

Oh, and there’s some sweet, sweet fight choreography from Kyle Encinas.

“Chad Deity” is about the love that Mace puts into his art form and the companionship that he finds in Vigneshwar Paduar or VP (Priyank Thakkar), a code-switching globalist who flirts in five languages and loves an audience. Mace knows that real wrestling is about the show but also about the story, about building something together. Mace puts in the work and producer Everett K. Olsen (Mickey O’Sullivan) reaps the rewards from the mythologies he invests into them, turning Mace into “Che Chavez Castro” (Mace is Puerto Rican) and VP into “The Fundamentalist.”

Lines blur as Mace’s complicity becomes increasingly tragic and frustrating. He’s the one who does the work. He’s the one who makes Chad Deity look good. But he also steps back at every racist drone Olsen drops. “But I don’t say that,” he says while pulling away VP, both understanding VP’s pain as well as not standing up for it.

While the points are salient and smartly put together, there’s some redundancy to the show, tapping in at two hours and 15 minutes. As well, there’s an emotional core missing, despite the beautifully played characters. When Mace’s triumphs come, they feel unsatisfactory.

Maybe that’s the point though. That The Dream is controlled by white men and to get in, you have to play it their way.

– Jay Van Ort

Kristoffer Diaz’s play takes the audience into the heart of what most of consider, including myself, a faux sport, and that is wrestling. The stage, transformed into a wrestling ring, becomes a metaphor for the more serious matters of racial stereotypes, exploitation of immigrants, and an American dream that is as genuine as the showmanship of wrestling itself. A Pulitzer finalist, this work satirizes and exposes the worst traits in modern American culture. The xenophobic, insularity, of the stereotypical wrestling fan finds their incarnation in the form of EKO (promoter). The crass humour and brutal force he embodies flies in the face of human decency.

With amazing choreography, and brilliant timing, it is enthralling to watch the energy and talent of these fine actors. This is no puppet show, or shadow play. The experience is visceral. Diaz’s play is full of shock and awe. Its intentionally morally offensive, in the best possible way that satire can be, while also beautifully crafted to show the skill and athleticism of the would-be sport.

Diaz’s satire is relentless. The ring becomes a metaphor for modern American life. What is fought and lost in the ring is everything that America holds to be sacred; democracy, freedom, racial equality, and most of all the belief that anyone can accomplish what they want in a country full of opportunities. What ultimately wins in this pseudo-sport/country, is money. The heart of the capitalism is dark and destructive. It lures us to its advantages while destroying the very best of who we are.

Diaz manages to convey this cynical message in a very funny way. His caricatures are splendidly entertaining. But none of this would work well without a talented group of actors and a fantastic director. Kudos to director, Jeremy Aluma who knows how to finely balance the political punches with slapstick.

Alejandro Tey, the mainstay of the play, astounds us with his incredible acting and sportsmanship, by embodying the role of Mace, psychologically and physically. Tey’s fluidity of movement and his agility are convincingly real. This is an actor who has worked hard to become his character. His passionate performance is always on point.

This is a ‘hard hitting’ play that reflects the fragmentation of Trump’s rhetoric. America can be great again, but at what cost?

– Terry Boyle

Kristoffer Diaz’s “The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity” is getting a knock-out revival by Red Theater. Named for the colorfully staged, and bombastic entrances of professional wrestlers – with costumes, smoke, lights, confetti, and plenty of trash-talking put-downs of their rivals to rile up the audience – pro wrestling is really a natural event for the stage.

In this send-up of the seemingly testosterone-laden world of pro wrestlers – and a hilarious one at that – director Jeremy Aluma has also plumbed the depths of this play, lauded with an Obie and a Pulitzer finalist after its 2008 premier.

Our narrator and guide, Mace (Alejandro Tey), a young Puerto Rican man with a life-long love of wrestling – explains his career in that vital role as one of the class of professional losers, who are willingly vanquished so that the celebrated star wrestler – in this play Chad Deity – can be further elevated and celebrated. And the pay is good.

With amazing casting by Gage Wallace, the production puts the audience in the role of fans at the arena. Much as I resist such tropes (please, let me hide in my seat!), this production drew me in, then captured me – along with the rest of us watching at the StrawDog Theatre building.

This was in part due to the charismatic and captivating performance of Alejandro Tey as Mace. He carries on for perhaps 45 minutes, relating his life story, teaching us the fine points of the profession, and explaining the symbiosis between the winner and loser. This almost mesmerizing performance is punctuated by demonstrations of wrestling technique.

But in very large measure Chad Deity succeeds on the seamless performances of the troupe – Mickey O’Sullivan is top drawer as Eko, the promoter; Will Snyder as The Bad Guy and as Fight Captain; and the night I saw it, Harsh Gagoomal as VP. Special kudos to Dave Honigman as the other Bad Guy and as an off-the-wall Referee who also performs janitorial duties and even wanders into the lobby during intermission.

Before seeing Chad Deity, I was quite blind to the team work and dynamic between winners and losers. My perception was the wrestling was clowning, not sport. In fact, the throws – and accompanying falls – require careful training. The troupe at Red Theater did its due diligence in learning these skills and clearly put in the hours on the wrestling mat.

The revival of this play is also timely. The panoply of villainous characters challenging Chad Diaz’s script highlights the American male heroes who vanquish the Bad Guys. The play – like real wrestling – trades on caricatures for the winners and designated losers alike. Over time, new models of trending bad guys are rolled out.

In Chad Deity, that new character is VP, a motormouthed Indian who stands in for a variety of Middle Eastern villains. Mace adopts the role of his accomplice, playing a Mexican bandit. Let’s just say neither of them intend to pay for any frigging wall.

The plot may be overly burdened by one additional claim on it: Mace is really a great wrestler, and wants to win, rather than lose well. Just once he would like to take the winners belt. Mace and the play deserve this, but it does seem to slow the action at points.

The Red Theater creative team has converted the Strawdog Theatre space into a convincing live wrestling event. It was an absolute delight. The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity plays through September 16, 2017 at 1802 W Berenice Ave, Chicago, IL 60613. It is highly, highly recommended.

– Bill Esler

Do you remember Hulk Hogan? Not the recent version who battled online media websites about leaked sex tapes, but the 80’s icon who battled bad guys like the Iron Sheik on his own Saturday morning cartoon? How about Terry Gene Bollea – do you know who he is? He had his own band in the late 70’s called Ruckus and he used to workout at a gym where a lot of professional entertainment wrestlers worked out. The wrestlers persuaded Terry to try wrestling and after he quit his band, he decided to focus on it. 10 years later, he helped create a phenomenon known as Hulkamania.

THE ELABORATE ENTRANCE OF CHAD DEITY presented by Red Theater Chicago, is the story of what we see behind the wrestling ring curtain. Beyond that facade of a wrestler getting to the ring with energetic music, indoor pyrotechnics, and a boisterous, cocky strut is a person who grew up knowing about entertainment wrestling and being fascinated with the world created by it. It’s Terry before he became the Hulk — in this story “Mace,” played by Alejandro Tey.

Once you walk into the Strawdog Theatre space, you walk into an entertainment wrestling event. Instead of a classical theater stage, you’re met with an actual wrestling ring. On the ring canvas is the logo of the producing company known as “The Wrestling,” and EKO (Mickey O’Sullivan) is walking around, meeting the audience and asking fans who their favorite wrestler is. EKO gets the crowd energized and welcomes their participation of cheers & boos throughout the play. This clever device acknowledges the transparency of the fourth wall, which will become essential as the play flips the theater audience into fans at a wrestling event and back.

After introductions and wrestling announcements are made, we’re suddenly met by a wrestler in a lucha libre mask. Lucha Libre is a form of professional wrestling developed in Mexico. The mask that the wrestlers wear are part of their wrestling persona. It’s like the yellow headband and tear away shirt of Hulk Hogan. The mask is slowly removed and Mace establishes himself as the narrator of this play. Tey is not only charismatic but very genuine in this performance. With the casual dialogue and personal storyline of his character, Tey is quite skilled at cultivating an intimate relationship with the audience.

As the story progresses, we’re met with other wrestlers and wrestling personalities including The Wrestling champion, Chad Deity (Semaj Miller). Miller plays up his confidence as Chad and takes the aforementioned cocky strut to another level. He’s a fan favorite, but behind the wrestling curtain he’s a company man that loves the money & fame and will do whatever it takes to keep those two a priority. Miller commits to this character earnestly, and even responding to an unprompted audience as Chad Deity would. There are times when Miller has opportunities to show more vulnerability, but the machismo and masculinity that embodies this wrestling world can be a strong enough challenge to continually commit.

Mace introduces his friend VP (Priyank Thakkar), and how cool of a person he is. So cool that he comes up with the idea that he should become a wrestler based on his personality without needing to know how to wrestle. Mace sells the idea to EKO, and once EKO is on board with the kind of character VP can play, the evil inner workings of The Wrestling company are revealed. Mickey O’Sullivan plays the villainous company man with strong conviction. It’s a bit offsetting when EKO delves into racial stereotypes that work for The Wrestling, but then again, it’s a reminder of how stereotypes were used during the 80s by the World Wrestling Federation (now World Wrestling Entertainment). The storyline unpacks as we follow the wrestling personas building up to a pay-per-view event. Throughout we’re provided amazing athletics by these actors who show us actual wrestling matches in the ring.

As the play progresses between the wrestling world and the theater play, the shifts at times are a bit blurry but if you’re more familiar with wrestling (than theater) it may be clearer for you. THE ELABORATE ENTRANCE truly unravels the over masculinity and racial overtones in this industry and with no apology. Audiences should be ready for a raw display of how these wrestling personas are created and treated, but at the heart of the play, Mace continually brings honesty, and it can be difficult to swallow.

– Jonald Jude Reyes

3.5 (out of 4) stars 

Kristoffer Diaz’s “The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity” caused a bone-shaking, brain-tickling sensation when it premiered nearly nine years ago at Victory Gardens. It transferred to off-Broadway and became a Pulitzer Prize finalist in 2010. Diaz’s premise — using the world of professional wrestling as a microcosm of the jingoism and mass-media exploitation rife in the political world — has only become more timely since then.

Red Theater Chicago’s revival demonstrates not only the staying power of Diaz’s super-smart script, it also shows that “Chad Deity” doesn’t need to be elaborate to deliver a theatrical power slam. Staged in the small and low-ceilinged new venue of Strawdog Theatre (the former home of a few other now-defunct ensembles), director Jeremy Aluma’s production puts us up close on three sides of Michael Lewis’ gritty wrestling-ring set.

And while there are fewer technical bells and whistles than in the Victory Gardens production (particularly in Brian Lawrie’s effective, but decidedly spare, projections), I doubt anyone who saw the original will miss them. All that means is that we rely upon the word pictures drawn by Alejandro Tey as Macedonia Guerra, or “Mace,” our narrator/tour guide into the world of wrestling lore and lingo.

Tey, whom I’ve not seen before, delivers a layered and funny performance, moving nearly seamlessly from discursive meditations on wrestling-as-community to bone-crunching fight sequences. (Major credit also goes to fight director Kyle Encinas for the high-octane bouts.)

Mace, a Bronx-raised Puerto Rican who fell in love with wrestling at an early age, is “the guy who loses to make the winner look good.” Mace puts up with losing to the title character in order to keep his boss, Everett K. Olson, or “E.K.O.,” (Mickey O’Sullivan), happy and the checks coming in.

The fact that Chad Deity (Semaj Miller) is an African-American man adds layers of discomfort. We wonder if Chad (who looks the part and can trash-talk like a pro, but really doesn’t have the moves of Mace) is given the champ’s belt because sporting matches, predetermined or otherwise, have become one place in American life where black men are allowed to triumph — particularly if their opponents are “foreign.” (As opposed to, say, being the first black man elected president of the United States and having one’s citizenship questioned.)

When Mace meets Vigneshwar Paduar, or “VP” (Priyank Thakkar), a multilingual Indian kid with a gift for rapping, he thinks he’s found a kindred spirit. For Mace, the beauty of wrestling is that it “represents the most profound ideals of the United States,” because in a wrestling match, “We’re trying to ensure neither one of us gets hurt.” But E.K.O. turns VP into “the Fundamentalist,” famous for his “sleeper-cell kick,” with Mace reconstituted as “Che Chavez Castro,” his gringo-hating sidekick.

“The shot that knocks you out is the one you never see coming,” Tey’s Mace observes. And despite some moments that lag as Diaz’s well-observed points get made once or twice too often, “Chad Deity” delivers plenty of shots to our consciences in the age of Trump.

Can cultural stereotypes be defused by amping them up to ridiculous levels, or is it dangerous to assume that everyone is in on the joke? That’s the central question Diaz poses, and this production brings it up to date with some sly interpolations — including a reference to Kid Rock, musician-turned-possible-Senate-candidate for the GOP in Michigan.

Aluma’s staging also provides local fan service, with references to the Cubs and to the just-closed Definition Theatre Company production of “An Octoroon.” (“What?,” Tey’s Mace asks with a touch of defiance. “Wrestlers can’t enjoy culture?”) The intimate nature of the staging makes it easier to acknowledge the audience as another character, and the cast handles the improvised moments of interaction with aplomb. Dave Honigman’s Referee and Will Snyder (who plays a variety of wrestlers destined to be knocked out) add comic texture, while O’Sullivan’s E.K.O. chews the scenery along with his cigar.

But ultimately, this show is about Mace learning that the community of wrestling — much like our larger national community — only works if everyone agrees to keep each other safe. That social compact feels like it’s down for the count lately, but “The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity” shows exquisite staying power.

– Kerry Reid

4 (out of 4) stars 

Red Theatre Chicago’s production of Kristoffer Diaz’s 2009 play The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity is not as elaborate as it was in the premiere several years ago at Victory Gardens, but it captures the high-octane heart of the spectacle and the outsize personalities that make it beat, providing an electrifying reflection on the world of professional wrestling that also offers a cogent critique of American values. Though to look at them, none of the cast could ever be mistaken for “real” pro wrestlers (e.g. John Cena or AJ Styles), but it takes only moments to forget this, because they attack their roles and each other with relish, capturing the cartoonish sincerity of the all-American version of the “sport” of pro wrestling. Diaz provides plenty of verbal firepower as well, and the cast, led by the nimble Alejandro Tey, delivers the rapid-fire barrage of words with as much aplomb as they deliver an encyclopedia of wrestling moves. Making them look good is an on-point design team that captures the cheesy yet rousing look and feel of THE Wrestling, the play’s version of WWE. Most important, though, is that they realize that neither pro wrestling, nor Diaz’s super-charged explication of it, is really about wrestling, but about the American Dream and what this looks like to different people.

Narrating the story—and explaining the truly finer points of professional wrestling—is Macedonio Guerra, aka Mace (Alejandro Tey). Mace is so anonymous to the crowds ringside that he wears a mask. The fact that this is a lucha libre mask means nothing to either the people who pay to see him lose or promoter Everett K. Olsen, aka EKO,(Mickey O’Sullivan). It is clear from the start that Mace is not only more physically capable than his colleagues, but he has a more sophisticated understanding of pro wrestling, its traditions and its appeal than those who sign his paychecks. The eponymous Chad Deity (Semaj Miller) is the face of THE Wrestling, a muscled giant with a megawatt smile, charisma (and money) to burn, and very limited actual wrestling skills. Playing supporting roles, and making sure that the right story gets told are a parade of pro wrestling archetypes, all played with just the right amount versatility by Will Snyder, and the smirking referee played by Dave Honigman. Entering from the outside, and faced with the decision of how to shape the narrative is Vignishwar Paduar, aka VP, an Indian American who is not the right shade of brown to fit the stock plotlines of the promotion. As the play unfolds, the momentousness of this intrusion to all the characters becomes clear.

Alejandro Tey brings the right balance of evangelical enthusiasm and physical prowess to the role of Mace, a Nuyorican wrestler who takes pride in making less skilled wrestlers look good because he understands the importance of his role the story. As the champion and face of THE Wrestling, Chad Deity, Semaj Miller conveys his character’s limitations, his outsized ego, and ultimately his professionalism and understanding of the business. Will Syder (who also serves as fight captain) plays his roles with the right swagger and bravado, tempered with an awareness of the need to advance the plot—both in the play and the ring; a former pro wrestler, he understands how to take a fall to full effect and also how to create distinctions between characters that might easily become interchangeable. Dave Honigman makes the most of his role as the Referee and assorted backup wrestlers, literally throwing himself into the ring to keep the action on track. As EKO, Mickey O’Sullivan does not shirk from the racist, crotch-grabbing, foul-mouthed excess of his character, but he injects enough insight and compassion into his role to leave his intentions obscure enough to question one’s judgement of him. As Vignishwar Paduar, Priyank Thakkar smoothly falls into the code-switching, class-and-continent bridging cadences of the kid who can trash talk in English, Spanish, Urdu and Hindi, with a bit of Chinese, Italian and Polish thrown in as the situation demands. The smartest kid on the block and an outsider in the wrestling game, VP sees its potential and also recognizes how far it has to go to reach it.

Director Jeremy Aluma clearly understands the textures of Diaz’s script—there is the homage to wrestling, the ridiculous excess that masks the business savvy, and the expression of the American Dream that both dazzles and destroys. He is also well-versed in metaphor, because, while the world of professional wrestling offers the perfect vehicle for bludgeoning the audience with its point, it is not the only world where the American Dream may not look the same for everyone, and the masses don’t really cheer the underdog—they cheer their guy. Not only has he assembled a cast that truly gets it, and has the chops to pull it off, but the design team effectively transports the audience to the stadium of a pro wrestling tournament. Scenic and props designer Michael Lewis has filled the space with a functioning ring (with a deck that transmits the thud of every body slam) and props that reinforce the illusion of the wrestling world. Costume designer Hailey Rakowiecki dresses and accessorizes the cast with wardrobes that convey the appropriate stereotypes, with a range of appropriate ties for EKO. From Mace’s lucha libre costume, to the workout bling for Chad Deity, to the various all-American guys (the redneck Bad Guy, the good ole country boy and the military veteran) and the ridiculous racial/ethnic stereotypes of the robed and turbaned Fundamentalist and the stock Latino revolutionary Che Chavez Castro (sombrero, bandana and “Hecho in Mexico” t-shirt), Rakowiecki clothes the colorful characters in even more colorful costumes. Lending arena-like scale to the tiny Strawdog space are Brian Lawrie’s overwrought, jingoistic projections, which perfectly enlarge the outsize but human-scale characters, and Sarah D. Espinoza’s brilliant sound design, which scores each elaborate entrance with only-slightly-tongue-in-cheek bombast. Lighting designer Charles Blunt effectively shifts between the bright lights of the stadium and the more subdued behind-the-scenes lighting, even though there is not much playing space outside the squared circle. In a play that explores the lines between reality and show, even the violence sometimes skirts that line—fight director Kyle Encinas admirably keeps the border between the real and fake distinct, except on those occasions when the narrative demands a little fuzziness.

Kristoffer Diaz’s 2009 play has withstood the test of time, and Red Theater Chicago delivers the humor and passionate, heart-pounding, bone-crunching momentum it requires to soar. Beyond the physical and verbal pyrotechnics, The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity is about creating community, recognizing differences, respecting others and the American Dream. Diaz and Red Theater Chicago bring a lot of love and passion to their portrait of pro wrestling, despite understanding that wrestling in America as it exists in the WWE and its fictional counterpart, THE Wrestling, may be just as inflexible as the wrestling guys that the promotions sell. Mace manages to live his American dream, despite being too good to be allowed to look good in the ring, while working behind the scenes to get into title contention. The potential is there. One change that has happened in the WWE since this play was first performed is that there are a wider range of characters who stand a chance in the scripted main events. Progress is being made. As Chad Deity shows, with blood-pumping action and quick-witted poetry, the framework for a more inclusive version of the American Dream is in place, if enough people want to change the script.

– Kerstin Broockmann

This is a 45-minute wrestling podcast critique of the show.

Every professional wrestler has a signature finishing move. Chad Deity’s is called the power bomb, and it involves lifting his opponent into the air and then slamming them hard onto the mat, back first. In Red Theater’s energetic production of “The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity,” what makes this move stand out is not its sheer power, but the wrestler’s showmanship. Before hoisting his fellow wrestler high over his head, Chad gyrates his hips and moves his hands around in a preemptive celebration, almost surigical in its precision. Without that bit, the move would simply be fight choreography. With it, Chad displays why he’s the best loved champion in wrestling. He has charisma. By contrast, the man lying on the mat lacks panache.

More often than not, that man is Mace (Alejandro Tey), a career underdog and true believer in the art form of professional wrestling. Chad (Semaj Miller) is the face of a wrestling company referred to only as “the wrestling,” though one can discern enough details in playwright Krisoffer Diaz’s script to peg the organization as the WWE, or World Wrestling Entertainment. Mace sees himself as a storyteller, since his primary job in each match is to make poorer wrestlers look like winners, a service he provides for Chad Deity often. But he longs for more space to tell his own stories. He wants an opportunity to win. Once he meets the motormouthed VP (a role usually performed by Priyank Thakkar, though I saw a performance with gifted understudy Harsh Gagoomal), he sees a chance to train a partner, someone to pump up the crowd before an entrance, someone who will support him to victory. But EKO (Mickey O’Sullivan), owner and operator of “the wrestling,” has other plans for the pair; they are to become villains, opposed to Chad Deity and all things American, and they will be billed as racist stereotypes.

Diaz’s script is a wonder of craftsmanship. I can understand the impulse to revive the play in Chicago so soon after its original celebrated run at Victory Gardens in 2009. The playwright knows wrestling inside and out, and understands how the drama and showmanship of a great match is not too far from the dynamic work at play in the best theatrical performances. He uses wrestling as a metaphor for art and achieving the American Dream, and then complicates the entire scenario by highlighting how society regularly asks people of color to undermine their own identities in order to get ahead in their chosen fields. The fact that Mace addresses his tale of woe directly to the audience only makes its impact hit harder, as we become his fans, and watch while he struggles to reconcile new-found success with lost integrity.

Director Jeremy Aluma emphasizes the performance aspects of wrestling in hilarious bits. Each actor has a pratfall or excessive use of finger guns to mark their appearance. The referee (Dave Honigman) has as much of a stake in winning audience applause as anyone else, flinging himself onto the stage with a rolling sommersault. Aluma’s attention to detail places us in a world where what’s real and what’s fake blur, and what can be considered a drama or a fight can be debated. Fight choreographer Kyle Encinas adds to this with brutal and punishing bouts that make the small theatre space ring with bodies hitting the mat.

Such a landscape creates real problems for VP and Mace, who pretend to be stereotypes, only to question whether they are becoming stereotypes as they add more and more detail to each performance. The only area where I found Aluma’s work with the actors to be lacking was in the descriptions of Chad and VP’s elaborate entrances. The actors painted the imagery well, but I never got the sense of scope and bombast that Aluma and Encinas brought out in the performers physically at other moments. Of course, Michael Lewis’ wrestling ring set and Brian Lawrie’s projection work to flesh out those entrances, and costume designer Hailey Rakowieki’s wrestling outfits highlight the exaggerated nature of the profession.

Tey connects with the audience on an open-hearted and sincere level, an important accomplishment, given that the world around him relies on showing off first, and emotion second. He walks you through the industry he props up, and prepares you for the most shattering moments in the play. He is a great companion for the journey. Miller is tons of fun as Deity, helping you understand why his bravado works so well on others. Gagoomal is smooth and honest as an operator with a soul. And Will Snyder as numerous Bad Guy characters highlights how ridiculous wrestling characters can become.

In this production, whether or not Chad Deity should be the champ is rarely in question. He dominates any scene he is in, using flare and machismo to charm the audience; the true question is not whether Chad Deity will win using his signature finishing move, but what will happen to the guy hurled to mat after the final bell is sounded.

TEN WORD SUMMARY: An energetic tale of charisma and hard choices about art.

RATING: d12 – “Heckuva Good Show”

– Sarah Bowden

You would be forgiven if you mistook the characters and wrestling in The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity for the “real” thing. The production does everything in its power to create an uncanny representation of a WWE match: a small scale wrestling ring, video / light shows, giant character entrances and audience participation cues are all used to get the crowd in the same head space as die-hard wrestling fans. It is incredibly easy to get swept up in the pure entertainment of what is on display. However, as soon as you are sold on the show’s setting, Chad Deity utilizes this immersion to deliver powerful messages on racial appropriation within the American dream.

Chad Deity follows the story of Mace (Alejandro Tey) and VP (Priyank Thakkar), relative newcomers to the T.H.E wrestling company, as they attempt to rise the ranks and attain the World Champion title currently held by Chad Deity (Semaj Miller). Attaining the title, however, is completely removed from actual wrestling ability; the title is instead tied to how well each wrestler can create and market their fictional personas to the crowd. The primary conflict then comes between the newcomers and commissioner EKO (Mickey O’Sullivan), as EKO typecasts Mace and VP as racial caricatures of a dangerous Mexican revolutionary and an Islamic extremist (respectively) based purely on their appearance and despite them being neither of those things. After all, if Chad Deity’s popularity as an appropriation of the black hip-hop star is anything to go by, EKO knows what sells to the masses.

The drama is delivered in powerful monologues by each of the characters who are subjected to being reduced to one-dimensional characters in the ring. Mace, VP, and Chad all literally stop the action in the show to address the audience directly on the complexities and nuances reconciling their backgrounds to the characters they play in the ring. The depth of each backstory provides powerful context to the events that occur in real time and serves to get the audience even more engaged and invested in the characters on display as they find their place in the American dream. By the end of the show, you will feel like you know the characters and will be sad to see them go.

In-between these monologues are some of the best choreographed action scenes I have seen in a long time. What starts as cast-driven audience participations to gasp and clap and boo become legitimate reactions as the wrestlers actually throw, grapple, and power-bomb each other live in front of the audience. This is all compounded with incredible lighting and sound design which mixes with the action to create scenes that rival professional wrestling you can see today. If that wasn’t enough, the wrestling is cut with comedic beats that are consistently funny and provide levity to both the drama and the combat. As mentioned before, it is incredibly easy to get swept up in what is happening on stage; it is obvious the production team and cast worked tirelessly to ensure all aspects of these scenes were flawlessly executed.
​
Red Theatre’s production of The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity is a powerhouse of a show that should not be missed. The pure spectacle of the action paired with engaging character drama and expertly delivered comedy makes for an experience I would recommend to anyone.

Highly Recommended

– Ryan Moore

This writer, stimulated to the brink of being stunned, left The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity trying to remember any performance that so invited a follow on foray to find and lavish in its multilayered script. (Playwright: Kristoffer Diaz)

For the past few hours we had sat ringside, watching this production’s cast of six acrobatically bounce in, over, through and around the wrestling ring stage. Fast moves are paired with faster lines still, especially from the narration by Puerto Rican MACE (played by Alejandro Tey) who is living his Bronx-childhood born dream of being a wrestler. Never mind that he has to lose in order to win. Never mind that he has to become a mélange of Mexican, Cuban and Cesar Chavez. Never mind that he never gets to tell the money-hungry owner and manager EKO (played masterfully by understudy Michael Stock) what he really thinks. He is living the American Dream his way and what we hope is everyone’s way—cherishing his art, his professionalism and the great satisfaction of doing his job right.

Red Theater Chicago One of 30+

This is THE WRESTLING world, where stereotypes are packed and unpacked before us as permutations of bad guys of all stripes in a telenova styled ever evolving narrative. It’s difficult to imagine a production more nuanced or with timing on par with this one (Director: Jeremy Aluma), though we read in the program book The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity, a Pulitzer Prize finalist, has had 30+ productions so far in the US. Metaphors abound, mostly coming in the forms of grunting Bad Guy (played by former pro wrestler Will Snyder), a fast-talking ladies man Indian-American from Brooklyn who gets cajoled by our narrator to join him in this wrestling ring ballet (VP, played by Priyank Thakkar), and the title character Chad Deity (played with megawatt smile charm by Semaj Miller), and the carcicatured referee (played by former Ringling Bros Barnum & Bailey clown Dave Honigman, whose gymnastic prowess is only outdone by his pre-show kibbutzing with the crowd.)

Not ever a wrestling fan before, this writer can’t imagine anyone in the audience not wanting to join in the mirth of booing the bad guys and rooting for the right guys on cue. It’s so much fun that we barely noticed we were falling down the rabbit hole to an alt universe where the American dream has become the American nightmare.

One-two-three, Amerika is down for the count.

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

This is now added to the Picture this Post round up of BEST PLAYS IN CHICAGO, where it will remain until the end of the run.

– Amy Munice

Wrestling is all about pageantry. It’s about fighting, yes, but it’s more performance art than combat: every match is staged and every character cultivated. Patriotism is played to the hilt, and stereotypes often reign supreme. The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity has been a nationwide smash hit since its 2009 world premiere at Victory Gardens. Playwright Kristoffer Diaz takes a hard behind-the-scenes look at the complex world of wrestling: the ruthless producers, the arrogant “champions,” and the workhorses who genuinely love the sport and the art. Red Theater Chicago’s production is intimate and unflinching, exploring every nuance of the snappy, challenging script and showcasing some of Chicago’s finest actors in the process.

Set in and out of the ring, Chad Deity’s narrator is Mace (Alejandro Tey), a wide-eyed young man who’s been in love with wrestling since childhood Saturday mornings in front of the TV with his brothers. Cash-grubbing producer EKO (Mickey O’Sullivan) views Mace as unremarkable and unmemorable, and relegates the wrestler to losing every match, while also doing most of the work. The star of The Wrestling League is Chad Deity (Semaj Miller, who understudied and performed the role at Victory Gardens), whose charismatic swagger masks the fact that he’s not a very good wrestler. But when Mace discovers smooth-talking VP (Priyank Thakkar), there might be a new “champion” on the horizon.

For its Chad Deity, Red Theater takes over the Strawdog Theatre’s new space in Ravenswood. The intimate venue is mostly occupied by a wrestling ring-cum-three-quarter-thrust stage, resulting in an immersive experience where audience members are encouraged to cheer and boo. While the preshow business feels a bit forced, once the play itself gets going, it’s hard not to get in the spirit. Diaz’s writing is impeccable, his character development distinctive and his plotting letter-perfect. Chad Deity has the drama and mythology of a real-life wrestling match (comparable to burlesque or soap opera) without the relentless predictability. No one’s all good or all bad (except perhaps EKO, the classic clueless white guy just out to make a buck). Director Jeremy Aluma clearly knows the work inside and out, keeping the pacing tight and the drama high while also showing the audience a good time. Chad Deity is a play about wrestling and wrestlers, necessitating rough and tough fight choreography, and Kyle Encinas’ work is some of the best I’ve ever seen.

Priyank Thakkar, Mickey O’Sullivan and Alejandro Tey star in Elaborate Entrance Chad DeitySemaj Miller and Alejandro Tey star as Chad Deity and Mace at Red Theater

The world of professional wrestling is larger than life, colorful and sparkling to a fault, and full of muscular athletes with axes to grind. Chad Deity’s cast is simply incredible, bringing everything they’ve got and leaving it all in the ring. Tey’s Mace, onstage almost the entire show, is a winsome, magnetic narrator full of innocence and passion, as well as increasingly conflicted feelings about his chosen path. As the title character, Miller is all bluster and swagger, a modern-day Narcissus who has the luxury of victory without effort. Perhaps the standout in this stellar ensemble (not an easy feat) is O’Sullivan, who has the gravelly cadence, peacock strut and the conviction that comes with being an entitled male who’s a millionaire to boot.

It’s difficult to convey what a knockout production this is for newbies and hardcore wrestling fans alike. It’s also difficult to write about a phenomenon that’s part athletic feat and part melodrama with depth, intelligence and an understanding of gray areas – that’s at the same time also a love letter. The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity is a triumph for Red Theater Chicago, its best since 2015’s R+J: The Vineyard. To use wrestling terms, this Chad Deity earns its championship belt.

Rating: ★★★★

– Lauren Whalen

The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity is about pro wrestling in all its pounding, banging, slamming, kicking performance art glory. It’s loud and obnoxious. And much of the play that just opened at Red Theater is devoted to pro wrestling. But there’s more to it than that. It’s a story about America and Americans in all their immigrant color and glory. But it’s still loud. Very loud.

The star and narrator of Chad Deity is not Chad Deity—more about him later. It’s Mace. Macedonia Guerra (Alejandro Tey), a Puerto Rican boy from the Bronx who grew up playing with wrestling action figures (not dolls) and watching pro wrestling on Saturday mornings with his brothers and his grandfather. He grew up knowing that the only thing he wanted to do was wrestle.

Mace’s ambition comes true in this play by Kristoffer Diaz, directed by Jeremy Aluma. Mace works for Everett K. Olson or EKO (Mickey O’Sullivan), the entertainment wrestling entrepreneur who runs the highest-ranked cable TV program and produces 12 pay-per-view broadcasts a year.

EKO, in his dumb creative genius way, knows that he needs to find or manufacture and book wrestlers that he can build a story and a persona around. He wants some wrestlers that his audience can love and cheer for and some that the audience can hate and boo.

Mace, who wears a classic Mexican lucha libre mask when he fights, is a talented wrestler who makes the stories work because he’s one of THE wrestlers. He’s a jobber, the perpetual loser who uses his superior wrestling skills to make the stars look good.

He says, “A really good wrestler makes other wrestlers look like they don’t suck…. The problem with that is that while you’re getting your ass kicked by guys who only look like they don’t suck because you’re making them look like they don’t suck, the audience starts to think—guess what? You’re the one who sucks.”

Chad Deity (Semaj Miller) is the champion wrestler who really sucks but looks good because of wrestlers like Mace. Chad—who is handsome and almost buff although a little pudgy—struts into the arena tossing money to his cheering fans. His “finisher”—the move that ends the match—is the powerbomb.

Mace narrates his own story and the wrestling story that brings in a diverse cast of wrestlers—of every ethnic stereotype—for the mostly white-American audience to cheer or boo.

But one day Mace meets VP (Vigneshwar Paduar, played by Priyank Thakkar), an athletic Indian dude who can flirt with a Latina in Spanish and trash talk in English, Spanish, Hindi and Urdu plus sprinklings of Polish, Italian and Japanese. Mace recruits him to wrestling and persuades EKO that VP can be a champ.

The play is a satire on wrestling, loaded with ethnic and wrestling stereotypes. It’s an homage to the virtues of diversity but it does hit you over the head with that message over and over again. Metaphorically, of course.

Aluma’s direction sizzles and his cast of actor/wrestlers are all outstanding. Alejandro Tey gives a superb performance as Mace and the other three leading characters are talented actors and outstanding physical performers. They learned their lessons well from fight director Kyle Encinas and fight captain Will Snyder. Dave Honigman as the referee is equally agile in his slamming and bouncing.

Michael Lewis’ stage design is greatly enhanced by Charles Blunt’s dramatic lighting, Brian Lawrie’s projections, and Sarah D. Espinoza’s sound design. The wrestlers’ flashy costumes are by Hailey Rakowiecki.

Before the play begins on its wrestling ring stage, EKO and a couple of wrestlers roam through the audience to get us revved up about pro wrestling and ready to cheer, boo and do the wave. Most of the audience complies.

Kristoffer Diaz’ play premiered in 2009 at the Victory Gardens Biograph Theater and then was staged at various major theaters around the U.S. and off-Broadway. Reviewers called it “flashy, fleshy and entertaining.” The script has been updated a bit with contemporary references (including a shout-out to Breon Arzell in An Octoroon). As I wrote this review, the New York Times embellished the relevance of pro wrestling with this story about a wrestler of Indian descent who plays the bad guy role. It’s in the arts section, of course, not sports.

Among Diaz’ other works is The Upstairs Concierge, produced at Goodman Theatre in 2015. It’s a farce that forgot to be funny.

The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity by Red Theater runs 2.5 hours with one intermission. It continues through September 16 at the new Strawdog Theatre, 1802 W. Berenice. Reserve tickets for performances Thursday-Sunday. Tickets are free or pay what you can. Donations are appreciated. And remember, I told you it was loud.

– Nancy Bishop

Eight years ago, Victory Gardens introduced this comic drama by Kristoffer Diaz to Chicago audiences. It was the play’s world premiere and it garnered enough word-of-mouth and excellent reviews to ignite other noteworthy productions across the country. Not the least of these was at New York City’s Second Stage Theatre. Diaz’s play, which was nominated for the 2009 Pulitzer Prize for Drama, garnered a number of other awards, including the New York Times Outstanding Playwright Award, the Lucille Lortel, the Obie and Chicago’s Jeff Awards both for Best Production and Best New Work. It’s a unique piece of theatre, combining the pizzazz and showmanship of the professional wrestling world with the poetic language and personal intimacy of a play.Eight years ago, Victory Gardens introduced this comic drama by Kristoffer Diaz to Chicago audiences. It was the play’s world premiere and it garnered enough word-of-mouth and excellent reviews to ignite other noteworthy productions across the country. Not the least of these was at New York City’s Second Stage Theatre. Diaz’s play, which was nominated for the 2009 Pulitzer Prize for Drama, garnered a number of other awards, including the New York Times Outstanding Playwright Award, the Lucille Lortel, the Obie and Chicago’s Jeff Awards both for Best Production and Best New Work. It’s a unique piece of theatre, combining the pizzazz and showmanship of the professional wrestling world with the poetic language and personal intimacy of a play.

Jeremy Aluma’s engrossing new production recreates all that excitement and over-the-top theatricality from the original Chicago presentation, with several moments of heartbreaking soul searching. If anything, this more intimate, thrust-stage production brings the show more closely into the laps of the screaming and cheering crowd. Seldom has the sporting and theatrical world meshed so seamlessly. Aluma’s production is, quite simply, all-inclusive and terrifically breathtaking.

After a pre-show pep rally, during which one of the characters encourages the audience to participate loudly, clapping, cheering and swearing as desired, the lights come up on a fella named Mace. He’s a good-looking, likable young Puerto Rican athlete from Brooklyn, who breaks the fourth wall with his many monologues, stories, and humorous anecdotes. He tells us about growing up with his two younger brothers, during which time he first imagined becoming a star wrestler. Mace promised his grandpa that he would never give in, but would follow his dream to the end, his own version of The American Dream. Mace would soon achieve his goal by becoming THE Wrestling organization’s heavy lifter, a fighter whose task it is to make the other wrestlers look good in the ring. He has the hardest job, enduring all the power bombs and body slams. Mace has the skill, as a talented young, experienced wrestler, but who gets none of the glory or fame.

Mace introduces us to all the other characters, particularly the handsome, titular African-American god marketed by his promoter as Chad Deity. This muscular fighter has been expertly groomed and turned into the star athlete of the sporting federation by EKO, the smarmy, wheeler-dealer owner of THE Wrestling. Amidst blazing lights and blaring trumpets, Chad Deity enters the ring for every fight, followed by his screaming groupies and female fans and dressed to kill in his dazzling outfits and giant, sparkling championship belt. He postures and preens and spouts poetic platitudes, but he’s choreographed to do very little during the actual fight allowing, instead, Mace to take all the slams and blows while making Chad appear to be the victor.

But Mace hears his brothers bragging about some neighborhood guy named Vigneshwar Paduar, a Bronx-born Indian athlete, who speaks five other languages and has the kind of charisma that could make him another wrestling star. Mace decides to seek out VP and, after meeting the young man, encourages his boss EKO to take a chance on this new wrestler. Mace’s job is to instruct and groom this handsome young athlete and introduce him in the ring. EKO decides to market his new wrestler as a Muslim terrorist whom he calls The Fundamentalist. He costumes VP in a turban and robe, giving him a yoga mat to bring into the ring and, in silence, instructing him to offer up silent prayers to his heathen god before each fight. EKO also recasts Mace as another anti-American terrorist character named Che Chavez Castro, dressing him in stereotypical, comical Mexican garb. VP is pitted against two other wrestlers, both of whom he easily defeats with his surprise lethal super kick. After he proves himself a success the tension ratchets even higher after he’s scheduled to fight Chad Deity in a multimillion-dollar pay-per-view TV show.

This comic drama, which pokes fun at the fake fighting found in this theatrical sport, looks and sounds fantastic. Director Jerry Aluma has smoothly collaborated with skilled fight director Kyle Encinas to create two+ hours of sweaty, realistic, body slamming wrestling moves. This macho choreography is kept fresh and safe by fight captain Will Snyder. Diaz sets his satire in and around an actual wrestling ring, authentically recreated here by scenic designer Michael Lewis, who also designed the props for the show. The production’s atmospherically lit by Charles Blunt and nicely costumed by Hailey Rakowiecki. The upstage wall is a blank canvas upon which Brian Lawrie’s artistic moving projections appear from time to time, accented by Sarah D. Espinoza’s rousing music and sound design. They all help create the excitement and blinding polish of the business aspect behind this violent-looking sport.

The all-male ensemble cast is magnificent. Dave Honigman is terrific as the Referee. He’s both very funny and a talented gymnast, as well. Will Snyder skillfully plays several of the wrestling opponents, including Old Glory and The Bad Guy. Handsome Chicago newcomer Priyank Thakkar is smooth and sensuously catlike as VP. His quiet, eloquent command of character, particularly in the wrestling ring, provides a welcome contrast to the noisy commotion of the earlier bouts. Mickey O’Sullivan, who’s been seen on stages all over Chicago, is fierce and funny as EKO, the announcer, and manager of THE Wrestling. Semaj Miller, who was a performing understudy for the original production at Victory Gardens, is sensational as Chad Deity. He deserves this chance to create his own version of the titular character and Semaj makes the most of his opportunity with his unlimited power and passion for the role.

But the star of this production is Alejandro Tey as Mace. This young actor opens and closes the play, easily taking the audience into his confidence, holding each spectator tightly in the palm of his hand and never letting go until the climax. He’s affable, honest, naturally warm and funny, and so relaxed and conversational with his stories and narration. Mr. Tey has all the flexibility and athleticism necessary to make his every movement as a wrestler seem realistic. He’s the real deal and easily turns into the audience’s trusted onstage surrogate in this new examination of what makes the American Dream come alive.

Kristoffer Diaz’s satire of the sport of professional wrestling is excellent. It’s a bit long-winded and could stand some trimming during the lengthier monologues. But the show is funny and exciting, gritty and gutsy and it easily holds the attention of its adult audience members. The characters are mesmerizing and, as portrayed by this gifted cast, top-notch athletes. The wrestling scenes appear authentic and are engrossing while the stories about growing up, with all their dreams and desires, feel honest and real. Director Jeremy Aluma and his cast and creative team have worked well together to capture the meticulous electricity of the wrestling world and bring it authentically to Chicago audiences.

Highly Recommended

– Colin Douglas

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Physically challenging satire of wrestling unfolds into a winner!

Somehow the creatives at Red Theater Chicago delivered a comical yet physically demanding satirical parody of wrestling and a unique take on the American Dream. From the players warming up the audience to groan and cheer to the wrestlers taking pratfalls every time the cross the ropes of the full-sized ring, The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity is two hours of entertaining theatre. This comic satire works better on the intimate staging of Strawdog’s new digs on West Bernice street.

This non-Equity production is technically wrestling-authentic, and it is a skilled piece of storytelling. The press notes say it best:

“Chad Deity is an American satire set in the world of television wrestling. The play drop-kicks and body-slams its way into an intimacy with Macedonio Guerra, ( the terrific Alejandro Tey) a professional “fall guy” as culture and race are distorted and deranged in the name of selling tickets to white bread Americans.”

“How does one pursue the “American Dream” in a country that refuses to offer opportunity indiscriminately? That is the question at the heart of The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity, a flashy American satire set in the professional entertainment wrestling world. We follow Macedonio Guerra, an excellent Puerto Rican wrestler, as he rises from the bottom of the pecking order. In this interactive physical comedy, Mace talks directly to the audience as fans in his arena, drawing the viewer into the struggle, joy, and heart of the story. The play dissects race, xenophobia, ego, and our moral compass – topics even more relevant now than when it premiered eight years ago.” This is an accurate assessment.

The story is a cartoon-like fable of the overhyped world of phony wrestling that degrades that sport turning it into a circus of ugly characters. We meet the egotistical Chad Deity (Semaj Miller)–the current champ as he body slams Guerra every week. The two seem dedicated to respect the traditions and practices of the rigged sport. Ha? The satire is done with immense overkill as playwright Kristoffer Diaz pushes things when Guerra discovers a most charismatic hip-hop Brooklyn kid of Indian (think India) descent.

Vigneshwar Paduar (Priyank Thakkar) and the manager, EKO (Mickey O’Sullivan) together with Guerra discover their ticket to the big-time of pay-per-view TV as the two become terrorists–Guerra as a Mexican terrorist and Thakkar as a Fundamentalist terrorist. Only Chad Deity’s ego suffers as the terrorists become huge.

The staging, the costumes, and the hype create an expectation of wild entertainment…and this production delivers! Chad Deity is funny, crude, and flamboyant as it mocks the phony world of professional wrestling that so many Americans embrace as entertainment. We see that there are many ways to express the American Dream of success. The cast was excellent and Alejandro Tey gave a tour de force performance as MACE the ultimate “fall guy.” His acting together with his impressive wrestling demeanor and physicality (and impressive body) gave depth to his character. Tey anchored the story. He was most impressive on several levels.

This wildly comic satire is manic and satisfying theatre. You don’t have to like wrestling (I hate it.) to have a good time at The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity. Red Theater Chicago’s production is stronger than the 2009 Victory Garden’s production. This show is a hit!

– Tom Williams