Review: LIFE SUCKS at Lookingglass … or does it?

Lookingglass Theatre's season opener, the ironically life-affirming LIFE SUCKS, might as well have been titled "Love Sucks," because every character's issues stem from that all-encompassing drive to connect with the person with whom they think completes them.

Love, in many of its forms -- real, impassioned, obsessive, sexual and unrequited -- is on display in playwright Aaron Posner's clever, modern take on Chekhov's "Uncle Vanya." The beautiful, young Ella is married to the stuffy, older professor; Vanya is obsessed with Ella; Ella is attracted to Vanya's BFF, Dr. Aster; Dr. Aster barely notices Vanya's niece, Sonia, who loves him with every fiber of her being; and Pickles, who also has a little crush on Ella, carries a torch for a woman who broke her heart 17 years ago.

Director Andrew White has assembled a stellar cast, from longtime Chicago actors to newcomers to those who left the city and have returned. Chicago theater stalwart Barbara E. Robertson is Babs, the only role not specifically lifted from Chekhov's original, and has the most poignant monologue in the whole piece, about how her immigrant grandfather was a "life-eater."

All the characters pontificate -- and directly address the audience -- at one point or another during LIFE SUCKS, which takes place in a rustic family cottage oozing with country charm. (Bravo to the entire production team.) Chaon Cross as Ella has the most awkward of these moments when she asks, "How many of you want to sleep with me?" (A few brave audience members actually raised their hands.) You might scoff; boo hoo, who wouldn't want to be the object of everyone's desire? But Ella is tired of it, and Cross convinces us it's a real problem.

The ensemble breaks the fourth wall straightaway, telling us what's in store, and they "check in" throughout, telling us who they are, asking advice, and denoting the end of each act, so as to make sure we're all on the same page.

Jim Ortlieb shines as the professor, ably balancing the character's pomposity, insecurity and brilliance. The professor's self-assessment and analyzation of his relationship with Ella has a keen self-awareness that is a notch above everyone else's inward glances. "I don't look like this in my mind," he says, pointing out his thinning hair and aging body. "If people could see us as we see ourselves, they would get it," he continues, coming to the conclusion that the way he snagged a hottie like Ella was because "her self-image fell in love with my self-image" (hers being negative; his over-positive).

Conversely, Pickles (the jubilant Penelope Walker) is a wistful optimist who spends her free time making crafts and believes that love lasts forever. "I still love everyone I've ever loved," she declares, unapologetically.

Sonia is a supposed plain Jane. She even describes herself as ugly, but sweet-faced Danielle Zuckerman brings such a likability and vulnerability to the part that "plain" is the last word you'd use to describe her.

The doctor whom Sonia pines for is arguably the most interesting character of the bunch. That may be the playwright's intent; or it could be the director's point of view; or maybe Philip R. Smith's portrayal just makes it so. On paper, the doctor has it all, but in life he has his cross to bear just like everyone else. He just seems to deal with his angst in a more adult albeit world-weary manner. (He drinks.)

Which brings us to Vanya, so jealous, so full of anxiety, so self-centered and so wonderfully played by Eddie Jemison (one of those character actors you always recognize from TV and film but whose name you can't conjure to save your life). His impossibly wrinkled clothing and ridiculously tied necktie aside, Jemison's Vanya is a believable mess. His obsessions and preoccupations keep him from any semblance of happiness.

And speaking of ridiculosity, the only word used more than "sucks" in this play is "ridiculous." It could be a conscious choice on the writer's part or it could be just one of those things writers subconsciously do when they like a word. Whether it's a good or bad technique is open to interpretation. One other note about the language: When Sonia pours her heart out to Ella about her feelings for Dr. Aster, she uses a quick-and-easy vulgarity when describing what she wants the doctor to do to her. It was a huge distraction in an otherwise heartrending speech, because it seemed like something that character would never in a million years utter.

But aside from those nit-picky gripes, logophiles need not worry: The play is rife with wordplay and beautifully constructed passages. Wise old sage Babs gets to spout more than her share. "Bad things WILL happen to good people, and worse: vice-versa," she says during a group intervention with Vanya. "Have a little gratitude for all the things you've got, and move on."

Preach.

LIFE SUCKS runs through Nov. 6 at Lookingglass Theatre in the Water Tower Water Works, 821 N. Michigan Ave. Tickets are $35-$80. Call 312-337-0665; lookingglasstheatre.org.