SEND IN THE CLOWNS

Farce is not a style of performance one sees too often these days and that’s probably because it is extraordinarily difficult to pull off, requiring complete commitment from cast and crew to its sensibilities, razor-sharp comic timing, physical comedy chops, and tight pacing and direction. There’s a lot that can go wrong but when it works it’s glorious and I am thrilled to report that Theatre L’Acadie‘s world premiere of Big Time Toppers by Patrick Vermillion falls into the “glorious” category for the vast majority of its ninety-minute running time.

In the small but cozy storefront space of the Redtwist Theatre, we open with two clowns, Harlow (Hannah Antman) and Stubs (Jamaque Newberry) practicing their audition routine. You see the circus is in town and they’re having open auditions for a clown act. Harlow and Stubs have been paying their dues for close to a decade, and this is their big chance. It might even be their last big chance because this is a particularly ageist circus, one that will not take in newcomers once they hit the age of thirty. Harlow and Stubs are twenty-nine. In their minds, once they hit the big three-o, they might as well be dead. But luck seems to be on their side; their rehearsal is witnessed by the star of the circus, Jimmy Knives (Quinn Leary) who is so impressed that he gives them a callback on the spot.

A brief segue to note that costume designer Benjamin Mills and makeup designers Brandii Champagne and Al Joritz have simply outdone themselves with the work on Jimmy Knives. It’s hard to put into words how wonderfully witty his appearance is. I broke into a wide smile every time the character made an appearance. More on the performance itself later.

Back to the action, Harlow and Stubs are beside themselves with excitement at their call back and rush back to the sad little bistro where they work to perfect their act, to bring to it some je ne sais quoi, even if neither one of them has the faintest idea of what that means.

And that’s when everything goes sideways. A horrific accident derails their plans (it also leads to an extremely inappropriate sight gag that runs the length of the play and is even more hilarious for the fact that absolutely no one on stage acknowledges it), and from that incident on—in classic farcical tradition—things get increasingly complicated and the silliness is ramped up to absurd heights. The machinations of the plot involve the world’s oldest set of juggling knives, a cat-murdering restauranteur, a former med student in the throes of psychotic bloodlust, fixed bets on college lacrosse games, compound fractures, and much more. Director Brandii Champagne keeps things moving at a frenetic pace: if a laugh doesn’t materialize, no worries—there’ll be another joke in a moment. Fortunately, most of the jokes land, and the laughs come at a rapid clip.

This is not just funny, it’s side-splittingly funny.

Beneath the complications of plot lies a very real fear—one that will hit close to home for anyone who has devoted themselves to the arts: the pressure to prove one’s talent, coupled with the terrifying notion that the window of opportunity to make a success of yourself is rapidly closing. Ageism is rampant in every field, to be sure, but its all-pervasive presence is especially cruel in the arts—particularly the performing arts, where it breeds insecurity among performers that can escalate to near-pathological levels.

Harlow and Stubs’ desperation rings true because we can still see traces of the optimistic young people they once were—before their dreams were systematically whittled down to the point where even “buying a couch that doesn’t smell funny“ feels like an aspirational win, never mind if the couch is “bougie.” That underlying desperation is what gives this production its unexpected je ne sais quoi.

Antman and Newberry are excellent as Harlow and Stubs; he is the ego to her id. They have a wonderful, lived-in chemistry as performers and I cannot separate the one performance from the other; in the context of this show and these roles, that’s high praise.

I simply adored Quinn Leary as Jimmy Knives. It isn’t just the costuming and makeup—fabulous as they are—the actor hits precisely the right note, blending arch theatricality, high farce, and manic energy to find the sweet spot. The overwhelming silliness shouldn’t distract from the fact that this is a masterful performance.

If there’s ever a production of The Jimmy Knives Story starring Quinn Leary, I will be first in line at the box office.

There are a few issues: most of the topical jokes (of which there are thankfully few) fall flat; the momentum starts to wane around the seventy-minute mark; and the climax tips from controlled chaos—essential to farce—into pure, noisy confusion. But it’s remarkable what talented actors can do with a great final line, and Hannah Antman’s exquisite (and heartbreaking) reading makes for a perfect ending.

photos by Sam Riehl

Big Time Toppers
Theatre L’Acadie
Redtwist Theatre, 1044 W Bryn Mawr Ave
Wed-Sat at 8; Sun at 3 (July 13 only); Mon at 8 (July 21 understudy performance)
ends on July 26, 2025
for tickets, (pay-what-you-can; $30 recommended), visit Big Time Toppers

for more shows, visit Theatre in Chicago