John Turner in Caesar, photo by Aimee FordThe Prenzie Players' Caesar, the company's truncated title for William Shakespeare's Julius Caesar, has a playfulness about it, as director Tracy Skaggs reduces the Roman leader, played here by John Turner, to the role of celebrity. This consequently provides moments of humor and fun where there might otherwise be none, the highlight of which is J.C. Luxton's Antony grabbing patrons from out of the audience and stating "Caesar grants your wish - rise," before using his cell phone to snap pictures of the attendees with Caesar.

Kitty Israel in Doctor FaustusThere were moments during Friday's performance of the Prenzie Players' Doctor Faustus in which I was creeped out, but with a fascination that had me begging for more. Director Jake Walker, sound designer Elizabeth Spoerl, and lighting designer Tyson Danner create effectively ominous scenes, particularly those involving chanting or whispering from behind the black curtains surrounding the audience, or red light pouring forth from an opening in that cloth wall. Chills ran up my spine, goosebumps rose along my legs and arms, and the hair on the back of my neck stood up multiple times - all signs of a thrilling production.

Cait Bodenbender in LearIt doesn't take long for Cait Bodenbender, in the Prenzie Players' Lear, to prove that director/adapter J.C. Luxton's idea to reverse his characters' genders was a great one.

Pat Flaherty and David Wooten in The Clouds Genesius Guild's season-ender opens with a visual gag so wonderfully surprising that I wouldn't dream of describing it, and closes with a slapstick chase so wonderfully goofy that I couldn't describe it if I wanted to.

Andrea Braddy (masked) and ensemble members in Electra As the organization's annual Greek dramas always do, Genesius Guild's presentation of Electra begins with a processional. During this preamble, the cast members, accompanied by a majestic anthem, slowly make their way across the Lincoln Park stage, and those who'll be wearing the traditional headpieces of the period carry them at waist level, giving us an early peek at Ellen Dixon's costumes, Earl Strupp's masks, and, for the last time before the curtain call, the performers' faces. (Only the play's choral figures remain unmasked throughout the production.) It's a lovely touch, as reassuringly familiar as Genesius Guild's nightly T-shirt giveaway and the shrieking from the children playing on the neighboring swing sets.