EXTENDED - to Sun March 8th

Gwydion's The Lower Depths at Chopin Theatre: An Avalanche of Anguish Sarz Maxwell, BuzzCenterStage.com 2/14/26

“I like theatre that’s deep, thoughtful, angsty. There’s much to be said for a play providing undemanding escape, but I prefer to challenge my mind, to make me think. And THE LOWER DEPTHS, as adapted by Grayson Kennedy for Gwydion Theatre Company, certainly did that. Don’t see this alone – you’ll want to talk about it afterward. And do not forget to take your Prozac!

The play is the second in Gwydion Theatre's "Season of Class", exploring classism in society. THE LOWER DEPTHS, written in 1902, explores themes of truth vs. illusion, hope vs. despair, through characters like a thief, a prostitute, and an alcoholic actor in a dreary flophouse on the Volga. The central conflict emerges with the arrival of a mysterious tramp who offers hope through stories and advice. However, hope cannot long survive the lodgers’ perpetually bewailing their travails and vicissitudes.

I was initially anxious about how such a large cast (13!) could operate in the confined space of Chopin Theatre. I personally love Chicago’s singular streetfront theatres, boasting perhaps 50 seats and 200-300 square feet of stage space. See, I like to be immersed in the players’ pheromone cloud, perhaps even bespattered with various bodily fluids.

Y’know, reading back over that, it doesn’t sound very inviting, but trust me on this. And trust Chicago as well – Gwydion is oner of the myriad smaller companies that showcase the multitude of superlative actors in this town. In decades of attending these storefront venues I’ve seen plays I didn’t like, I’ve been critical of some production decisions, but very seldom are the actors themselves disappointing. We are very fortunate here in Chicago. I only wish I could believe these professionals are earning paychecks commensurate with their skill.

Where was I? Oh yes, big cast; and I find myself unable to single out the players of individual characters. I always try in these reviews to praise each actor on their individual performance but between their sheer numbers and the peculiarities of Russian names I can but name the cast and beg the actors’ forgiveness: Alex Levy (Vaska Pepel); Katherine Schwartz (Vasilisa Karpovna); Matt Mitchell (Mikahil Kostilyoff); Brynn Aaronson (Natasha Karpovna); Tommy Thams (Andrei Mitritch Kleshtch); Hannah Freund (Anna Kleshtch); Christopher Meister (Abram Medviedeff);Bryan Breau (The Baron); Evan Bradford (The Actor); John Nicholson (Satine); Howard Raik (Luka); Maddie Hillock (Kvashnya); Abraham Deitz-Green (Alyoshka); Maya Moreau (Swing); Grayson Kennedy (Swing).

If I’m totally honest (and I owe this stellar troupe that much), even as it was playing, I couldn’t keep track of which character was who. To my relief, this did not interfere with my appreciation of the play and the performances, as it is actually in keeping with the theme of the play. THE LOWER DEPTHS tends to undermine the individuality of the characters: they are emulsified into a slurry of Poor People, faceless and nameless. In this THE LOWER DEPTHS mirrors the attitudes of our Administration: they’re po’ folks, not actual people with real needs and feelings.

Adapted by Maxim Gorky, he was more interested in the characters than in creating a formal plot. There’s no linear sense to the situations portrayed – a woman is dying; the landlord is heartless; everyone’s having an affair with someone – but these are only separate instances in their overall wretchedness. Tellingly, none of them acknowledge any kinship in their tribulations; no one ever says, ‘yeah, I know what that’s like’ or ‘something like that happened to me once’. Thus, while society depersonalizes them, each isolates themself within the siloes of their personal experiences.

Luka, an elderly tramp, arrives with a philosophy of consolation and a better life. Reactions to this message - this theme of harsh truth versus the comforting lie - pervades the play and divides the inhabitants into opposing camps of the hopeful and the realists. Most of them choose to deceive themselves rather than acknowledge the bleak reality of their condition, leading inevitably to violence and death.

Oi! I’m supposed to be encouraging you to see this play, but you’d need to be, like me, a real angst enthusiast to be attracted by my description! But if you do like exploring the depths of desolation; the frequency of forlornness; the drama of dreariness … then THE LOWER DEPTHS is the play for you!

The production team included its artistic directors Tommy Thams and Grayson Kennedy and was drawn largely from Gwidion company members. Scenic Designer Hayley Wellenfeldt and Morgan Kinglsey created a monochromatic and versatile set with Lighting Designer Sam Bessler effectively defining scenes and characters. Costume Designers Cindy Moon and Grace Weir differentiated the subtle differences between, say, the actor and the Baron. Sound Designer Rick Reid sourced authentic Russian period music while Stage Manager Katie Espinoza pulled it all together and put it out there fluidly.

The Lower Depths is the first time in Russian literature that society’s outcasts took center stage in a drama. In claiming importance and humanity for a class that Gorky described as “ex-people” and “creatures who were once men,” he moved Russian drama into the political and social arena that would lead to revolution. May that purpose prevail in our own trying times! - Sarz Maxwell, BuzzCenterStage.com 2/14/26

Gwydion Theatre Company’s The Lower Depths Hits the Head and the Heart - Adam Kaz, ThirdCoastReview.com 2/15/26

“Over the last few years, Chicago’s young Gwydion Theatre Company has proven itself a reliable protectorate of great literature. In October, I favorably reviewed its production of Death of a Salesman, the first in Gwydion’s “Season of Class” series, and was eager to return for the second entry, The Lower Depths, a 1902 Russian social realist play by Maxim Gorky about the depravity of boarding house life. Under the direction of Danny Kapinos, Gwydion creates a mostly well-acted production that mirrors the despair of our troubled times.

Similar to Death of a Salesman, the set is simpler than what’s described in the script's descriptions. For his boarding house, Gorky asks for windows, thin boards denoting rooms, a stove, a bunk. Instead of that scenic designer Haley Wallenfeldt gives us red. Lots of red. A red stage and red slats and red boxes and red chairs.

This barebones set serves no clear purpose (outside the obvious financial one) but is workable enough in the first acts when the actors, through dialogue, clearly establish the boarding house setting. I wonder, however, if audience members new to the play can discern when we change locations to a waste yard. With such a sparse set, lighting designer Sam Bessler and sound designer Rick Reid should do more to suggest these shifts.

Nitpicking technical work, however, is kind of beside the point. The Lower Depths through-and-through is an actor’s play, an ensemble piece. It’s full of dense conversations and dramatic monologues. For the play’s length we’re strapped into a cast of desperate characters, and their believability, more than anything to do with sounds or lights, makes us believe the story. At the start, overlapping dialogue exposes the boarding house occupants as they wake up to another day in poverty hell.

Throughout a frenzied opening sequence of overlapping dialogue, we meet The Actor (Evan Bradford), a young artist already ruined by his alcohol addiction. There’s the locksmith Andrei Kleshtch (Tommy Thams), shockingly unconcerned about the slow death of his wife Anna (Hannah Freund) from consumption. And Satine (John Nicholson), a cards player whose nihilistic attitude generates some of the play’s most interesting lines. That's just a few; there are more.

The audience is overwhelmed by well-orchestrated chaos that bends into a story with the introduction of The Lower Depths’ main character Luka (Howard Raik), a wise old man new to the boarding house whose kind heart inspires the other to imagine a better future. Raik’s performance lacks the qualities we critics usually attach to “greatness.” He is not dynamic, hot and cold, loud and quiet, but rather gentle and plain. He’s an unchanging grandpa. Maybe this isn’t great character work, but Luka isn’t so much a character as he is a calming vibe, like Santa Claus or Jesus. He’s a lot like Jesus, actually.

Luka is a dispenser for the writer’s philosophy. Throughout the show he reflects on matters of kindness: “All I said was that if a man isn’t good to you, then he’s acting wrong”; on matters of religion: “If you have faith, there is (a God); if you haven’t, there isn’t . . . whatever you believe in, exists”; on matters of love: “Listen: take the one you like by the arm, and march out of here—get out of here—clean out.”

Raik’s Luka, unadorned and candid, tugs at our hearts. So far as acting goes, however, the show’s real star is John Nicholson as Satine. While most of the cast attempts naturalistic acting, Nicholson’s Shakespearean, Ian McKellen voice commands attention. Compared to Raik, Nicholson’s mind seems more activated by the character, and in every line I see deliberate choices that make his presence stronger. He has a small but noticeable part in the beginning, and I think audience members are grateful to see his character expanded in later acts.

Of the main characters, Alex Levy’s performance as Vaska Pepel, the thief in love with Natasha (Brynn Aaronson) but in a physical relationship with her abusive sister Vassilis (Katherine Schwartz), is the weakest. Like many young actors going for gasps, Levy can be very loud. Especially with a room as intimate as the Chopin Theatre's basement space, actors must know that a raised voice can be jarring, even violent. That’s all well and good if your intent is to jar us with violence, but less so when you’re trying to establish yourself as a leading man we should understand as appealing. In the scenes where Levy plays opposite the female characters, perhaps because they require more tenderness, he mellows out.

It’s a male-dominated cast, definitely, but all the female characters shine bright. Nastia Goddard as Nastya, the sex worker, is especially charismatic. Some of her line deliveries, like when she’s resigned, “I’ll drink—then I cry again—that’s all there’s to it!” or full of rage, “My love was real honest-to-God love!” stay with one more than many of the erudite pieces of dialogue. Brynn Aaronson as Natasha is a constantly engaged wonder. Without spoilers, a brutal scene between Natasha and Luka calls for emotional devastation, which I think is always visible and believable on her face.

There’s not much point, I figure, in criticisms aimed at the writing of a long-dead, much-loved writer. But I would ask Gorky’s ghost to consider an occasion where Luka acts way outside his character. In one scene he clumsily tries to convince Natasha of something that seems against her interests, which raises eyebrows. Maybe that bit needs a second draft.

Anyone looking for parallels between the show and modern life will find plenty. The repeated sentiment, “All honest men have passports,” feels especially prescient. The Lower Depths argues that people cast aside by society need our attention, our love. Walking out of the show, one feels a little closer to whatever cure will work on this sick world. Also, importantly, one feels entertained” - Adam Kaz, ThirdCoastReview.com 2/15/26

***

World Premiere - adaption of Maxim Gorky's masterpiece, The Lower Depths. This play is the second in Gwydion Theatre's "Season of Class" where we aim to examine the history and practice of classism in society. The Lower Depths investigates the forgotten class, the poorest of our poor citizens, and their untold human connections in a world where they have been disconnected from humanity. (2hrs with intermission).

About Gwydion: The Gwydion Theatre Company was formed in Los Angeles, CA by a group of actors following their completion of training in 2019. It started with doing Shakespeare in parking lots, apartments, parks, to then tackling full scale productions during the Hollywood Fringe Festival. Following the pandemic, a decision was made to move operations to Chicago, IL in order to connect with the storefront community that Chicago is renowned for. Gwydion Theatre aims to be a theatre of class, one that addresses the growing dominance of commercialism and pay-to-play in our artform through critical and provocative theatre that challenges the biases of the theatre community here in Chicago. Gwydion Theatre also aims to uphold the theatre as a central pillar of the identity of Chicago.