When the author is a hometown boy and the stage picture consists of three guys over the age of thirty swapping Big Talk in a bar, the odds are that at least one of them is trying to put one over on the others. This auspicious debut by CPS teacher-turned-playwright Michael Rychlewski fits snugly into the genre launched by David Mamet, whose tales of small-time hustlers continues to define the "Chicago style" of dramatic literature. The bar, in this case, is Vince's tavern, located on the northwest side but exhibiting a decor shared by neighborhood watering-holes the world over — notably, a juke box whose inventory is devoted to 1950s-era jazz. On this slow summer Sunday in 1984, Vince is ready to close early when his old buddy, Walt, waltzes in—almost literally, since he's accompanied by a conspicuously younger female companion. Later, another boyhood chum arrives — this is Philly, just in from the coast, flush with lucrative prospects. At first, the chat is mostly focused on the music — a topic on which the youthful Kaki is curiously erudite — but gradually turns to memories of their glory days hobnobbing with the high rollers on Rush Street. Soon Philly proposes a deal involving smuggling illegal jewels into the country. It's not just about the money, though. Well, of course it isn't! Did you think it was just the period libations (when was the last time you ordered a sidecar?) that render the men unable to remember Kaki's name? Did you dismiss Philly's claims to cameratismo with goodfellas in both Los Angeles and Miami as empty braggadocio? How does a barely post-adolescent babe come to reel off playlists with the expertise of Nat Hentoff? Did you forget that jazz is based in improvisation? Playgoers listening closely may detect clues, but who has time to connect the dots when we're having such an entertaining good time (did I mention the storytelling contest)? None of this would be possible without the superlative ensemble acting that is also Chicago's hallmark. Anchoring the action under Richard Shavzin's deft direction are veteran hard-guys Larry Neumann, Jr. and Randy Steinmeyer (the latter of whom is no slouch at swing dancing, either) in the roles of the cautious Vince and shrewd Walt, while Clare Cooney's Kaki oozes sleek sensuality and Daniel Patrick Sullivan's Philly displays just the right level of nervous sweat. Hobbyist writers often get a bad rap, but if Rychlewski has more plays like chops, he can look forward to a second career after collecting his pension.
