Playwright: William Shakespeare. At: Wayward Productions at the Underground Wonder Bar, 710 N. Clark St. Tickets: 312-266-7761; www.waywardproductions.org; $25. Runs through: April 20
Without the admission table set up at the top of the stairs, newcomers to the Underground Wonder Bar (like myself) might be taken aback by the spectacle that greets them upon entering the basement: hairy tattooed men wearing industrial-grade denim and big-haired tattooed women wearing glitter-fishnet guzzling shots and snorting lines to the accompaniment of heavy-metal rock. Only after we notice the vest patches identifying these habitués as members of the Warlocks motorcycle club, their emblem a white rose and their individual titles such handles as "York" and "Gloucester," do we recognize our milieu.
Richard III ranks second only to Macbeth as the Shakespeare play most popular with creative young companies looking to put their own stamp on the classic power-grab tale. There's no denying the novelty of an adaptation where Richard crows "I am determined to prove a villain!" as he swills from a bottle of Jack Daniels, where lords greet each other with chest-bumps, where the monarch's marriage to the widow Anne concludes with "you may now fuck the bride" and the battle on Salisbury Plain echoes with the roar of a thousand Harleys. Oh, and don't forget Richmond's aide inquiring what is to be done with Richard's broken corpse, only to be told, "Aaah, bury it under the parking lot!"
A show needs more than a tasty central metaphor to sustain itself for 90 intermissionless minutes, however, and while a few moments at the two-thirds mark of the final preview performance may have idled on simple recitation, the overall synergy generated by the playing space's immersive arrangementunwary playgoers may find themselves seated within arm's length of the royal thronemakes for a visceral immediacy propelling the dramatic action at the velocity you'd expect of a universe fueled by fast engines and mind-bending stimulants.
This doesn't mean that Wayward Productions director Carlo Lorenzo Garcia neglects text interpretation. John Byrnes portrays Richard as a suitably waxen-faced, but always articulate, weasel initially displaying none of his trademark disabilities, instead sustaining his injuries in the course of his schemes. Likewise adept support is forthcoming from John Milewski as the self-effacing Buckingham, Brittany Ellis as the malevolent Margaret and an ensemble of actors whose assorted gearhead grotesques never spill into camp caricature, even to the three jaded barmaids who emerge silently to mop up blood from the floor after each violent incident.