Joe Sager, Don Faust, and Terry Green in Plutus (photo by Missy Dell)
Saturday, in the park; it's already the end of July. It was a comfortable, comparatively cool evening on July 20 – mid-70s, low humidity – and I was in Rock Island's Lincoln Park to see Aristophanes' Plutus. This evening of slapdash mayhem was inflicted by Genesius Guild, the revered Shakespearean/classic Greek Quad-Cities theatrical institution since 1956, in cooperation with directors T Green and Calvin Vo, founders of Haus of Ruckus, the merry pranksters who first united in 2022 to concoct creative, original theatre. (Not to insinuate that hallucinogens are involved, but experiencing their productions might make you think you'd had some.)
Traditionally, the last show in Genesius Guild's summer season is one of the ancient Greek comedies – political satires of their time which, as is often noted, are still relevant today. Oppression, greed, economic inequality, corrupt politicians, and capricious deities are not 21st-century innovations. Aristophanes wrote Plutus more than 2,400 years ago, and we're still griping that people wealthier than we are haven't necessarily earned it, whether through hard work or by reason of virtue.
In past years it was often Genesius Guild founder Don Wooten who adapted the chosen classic script to make it more immediately relatable to the state of the nation and the Quad Cities, invoking the names of politicians, celebrities, and other notorious newsmakers. In 2022 and '23, Guild handed the reins of "The Comedy" (as it's known to local theatre mavens) to Haus of Ruckus. This year, the troupe was given one of Wooten's updated Greek scripts to adapt even further.
Plutus is the god of wealth, who has here taken human form and looks an awful lot like local veteran actor Don Faust. Plutus is also blind, which explains why the virtuous aren't rewarded with money, as he can't tell the good people from the bad ones. (Personally, I can hear evil, so I don't understand the difficulty.) Another frequent and skilled area actor, Joe Sager, is pursuing the god as Chremylus. An oracle had told Chremylus to persuade the first person he sees to come home with him, which is as dangerous as a stupid TikTok challenge such as drinking boiling water. (Do not try either of these.)
Well, Chremylus latches onto Plutus – he even tries to tie the dude up – and various occurrences result, including the expected song parodies and burns, including those of zillionaires, AI, and Quad City Arts grant rejects. They insult the audience (gasp!), who can expect to be called old and smelly. And they mock theatre reviewers, which was hilarious … because they didn't include me. One character also praises the cushy seats and air conditioning of a certain indoor theatre – but safely, as that particular venue doesn't have a show running right now.
I was happy to see that primo performer Jacob Lund is in this one, in yet another role as a slave (a.k.a. "unpaid intern"), this one named Cario. Julia Sears portrays the goddess of poverty, and sings energetically and winningly both as Lady Gaga and as part of the Greek chorus. Avalon Willowbloom was funny in various roles, including a computer, a doctor, and an unexpected puppet-animal chorus member with a raspy New-York-cabbie voice. Other frequent Guild performers Wiz Wooley and Nathan Elgatian grace the boards, plus there's a wasp and a frog from the two previous Ruckus-fueled Guild season finales.
Longtime Ruckusteer Terry Green, T's dad, appears as an "average theatre-goer" who only wants to see plays he's already seen. Kevin Keck, with whom I went to school ('member me, Kevin?), plays the CEO of Everything, looking very much the part in a gray blazer over a natty business tunic. The always-excellent Shannon Ryan provided the costumes, and "Ann Fury" is credited with sound ("sound an' fury” … get it?), delivering, in one scene, well-timed bleeping of mouthed obscenities.
This Plutus script includes bountiful Haus of Ruckus je ne sais quoi absurdities, as in "I'm calling my lawyer, and yeah – he is a soup can I drew on," as well as self-aware "I'm acting here!" pronouncements such as "I've just thought of a plot development!" and "I don't know … whatever the script says." (I was gleeful to finally have the oft-heard blat of a train horn acknowledged when Plutus shouted, "That damn train!") Co-director T Green and another actor sat in the audience supplying a few lines, and I suspected a third might be sitting next to me, what with loud comments throughout and frequent eruptions of shouted "HA HA HA!"s instead of real laughter. When the intrusive personage actually unwrapped food and ate during the show, I was convinced it was a shill. Nope. Just incredible rudeness.
Weird honks from kids' toys and "The Entertainer," courtesy of an ice-cream truck, also invaded. But it's live theatre in the wild outdoors, all the world's a stage, and the show must go on. Lincoln Park is pretty; Genesius Guild's Plutus is free (though donations are encouraged); it's only an hour with no intermission. Plus, you have a chance to win a free T-shirt. How can you not go?
Genesius Guild's Plutus runs at Lincoln Park (1120 40th Street, Rock Island IL) through July 28, and more information is available by visiting Genesius.org.
