According to a comment on X by Steven Van Zandt of the E Street Band and Little Steven’s Underground Garage, “You Really Got Me” by the Kinks was “the beginning of the modern Hard Rock world as we know it. Absolutely incredible that it was a top ten hit single! Unimaginable in today’s boring f****** world.” The comment was made last year in response to Dave Davies of the Kinks noting the song’s 60th anniversary.
That song—and many others in the Kinks catalog—shows up to great effect in Sunny Afternoon, the biomusical now onstage at Chicago Shakespeare. Featuring a workmanlike book by playwright Joe Penhall, the show premiered in London in 2014 under the direction of Edward Hall, who restages it here. (Hall became artistic director at Chicago Shakes in fall of 2023.) And for fans of the Kinks, it should not be missed. For skeptics of the jukebox musical, it may not completely allay complaints about the short shrift given to character development in the form. But by showing us how the songs themselves become stand-ins for the emotional and social turmoil of the band and the times (embodied by the yin and yang of introspective Ray Davies and party animal “Dave the Rave”), Sunny Afternoon honors one of the most idiosyncratic bands of the British Invasion.
Sunny Afternoon
Through 4/27: Tue 7 PM, Wed 1 and 7 PM, Fri 7 PM, Sat 2 and 7 PM, Sun 2 PM; audio description with touch tour Sun 4/13 2 PM, open captions Wed 4/16 1 and 7 PM, ASL interpretation Fri 4/18 7 PM; Chicago Shakespeare Theater, 800 E. Grand, 312-595-5600, chicagoshakes.com, $90-$135
Ray (Danny Horn), who, as father Fred (John Carlin) notes, “boils at a different temperature,” is the slightly dreamy, off-kilter genius who seemingly channels songs at a frequency others can’t quite hear. The defining tragedy and inspiration of Ray’s life, as emphasized here, was losing his older sister, Rene, on his 13th birthday—right after she gave him his first electric guitar. (Rene, who had a congenital heart problem, died of a heart attack at London’s Lyceum Ballroom in 1957. The 1983 Kinks hit “Come Dancing” isn’t heard in this show, but takes on fresh poignance in light of the family history.)
Penhall’s book tries to hit the high points, but skims past some of the more troubling history (Ray Davies and his first wife and Kinks backup singer, Rasa, played here by Ana Margaret Marcu, divorced in 1973, leading to a suicide attempt by Ray and a subsequent diagnosis with bipolar disorder). In some ways, the story is standard-issue rock ’n’ roll ups and downs: shady management deals, the strains that touring life places on relationships, antics caused by excessive drinking (Oliver Hoare’s Dave Davies literally swings from a chandelier at one point), internecine fights for glory and credit within the band. (The second act starts with a blistering drum solo by Kieran McCabe as Mick Avory, which certainly helps make the case that it wasn’t just the Davies brothers that gave the Kinks their kick.) The show also highlights the band’s problems with U.S. unions. As their father notes, it’s ironic that a group of socialists from the working-class London neighborhood of Muswell Hill should be brought down by labor.
The running theme throughout the show, which comes to glorious fruition with Ray’s masterpiece “Waterloo Sunset” late in the show, is that being in a band means learning how to be alone together. And there is so much great music here (“Lola,” the title song, and “Till the End of the Day” among them) and clever, exuberant stagecraft that the relative thinness of the book hardly matters. The final medley had everyone on their feet, and I don’t think it was just boomer nostalgia. I think maybe Little Steven had it exactly right.
Reader Recommends: THEATER & DANCE
Reader reviews of Chicago theater, dance, comedy, and performance arts.
Titaníque is a gag-filled retelling (by Céline Dion!) of James Cameron’s film.
Helena & Hermia in the Enamored Odyssey is an enchanting new musical take on Shakespeare’s comedy.
Hannah and Halmoni Save the World offers a sweet intergenerational story at Filament.
The Newport Theater commits to everyone who walks through the doors.
Splash Hatch on the E Going Down tackles a raft of issues.
Concrete Content fuses Martin McDonagh’s authoritarian tale with Chicago’s history of police violence.
