OUT OF THE CLOSET,
INTO THE FIRE

A messy, ambitious new musical about
divorce lands more as play than score—
but still entertains

Court Theatre closes out its 2025/2026 season with Out Here, a new musical with a book by Leslie Buxbaum, music by Erin McKeown, lyrics by Buxbaum and McKeown, and it’s all based on a concept by Buxbaum, McKeown and David J. Levin. (You’ll have to dive into the digital program for the reasons behind the cumbersome credits).

For this unconventional musical, Andrew Boyce and Lauren M. Nichols have crafted a doll house of a set. Not an old-fashioned doll house but one of those fancy modern—and expensive—ones; all clean Scandinavian lines, with furniture in different shades of white, and blonde pale wood to add a hint of color, such as it is. In a corner of the attic, the band—a quintet—is installed.

The design suits Dawn (Becca Ayers), a middle-aged married woman with an easy-going husband Brian (Cliff Chamberlain) and a surprisingly well-adjusted teenage daughter Cleo (Ellie Duffer). As the play opens, the three of them are going about their day when one suddenly notices the audience. The gimmick of the show is to push out the fourth wall—not eliminating it— to encompass the audience as well. I’m not sure how much it contributes to the play, but it provides for a few modestly amusing moments, at least at first. As they speculate as to why a crowd is watching them (” Was there a garden tour scheduled?”) the band strikes up, adding a further note of consternation and confusion to the enterprise. Nevertheless, the family are game and launch into the opening song of the show, welcoming us to their house, with Dawn taking the lead.

Then the song ends and Dawn asks Cleo to put on her headphones because she needs—uh oh!—to have a conversation with her Brian. Dawn wants a divorce.

And then things get interesting.

Court Theatre has had a fascinating season, swinging for the fences in every one of their productions, and Out Here is entirely in line with that sensibility; a musical about divorce is tricky enough, but adding in Dawn’s reasons for the divorce, essential redefining the “closet”, and the high concept that integrates the audience into the action, and you’ve got a high-wire act to pull off.

Dawn wants a divorce because she has decided that she is not just bisexual, but a lesbian. That she has had relationships with women is not news to Brian—they have an open relationship in that regard—her need to be exclusively with the same-sex is. The divorce is set into motion, a musician from the band offers his services as a mediator, and Dawn and Brian descend into the messy mechanics of separation.

(Aside: I’m starting a petition to get Cliff Chamberlain a romantic lead on stage. Why must this charming, witty, talented actor—with a sweet singing voice to boot—be constantly unlucky in love? Cliff Chamberlain deserves to get the girl—or guy, or any combination thereof—and that is that.)

One would not expect much entertainment from this situation but McKeown and Buxbaum locate a consistent vein of humor in the intricacies of the legal process of divorce. The spirited cast and Chay Yew’s direction help a lot. What is missing though is a genuine sense of sadness. In their rush to propel us from one set piece to another, the show casts aside Brian and Cleo to focus entirely on Dawn’s emotional journey. And while that is understandable in one sense, it makes for a lesser experience. Robin (Bethany Thomas, absolutely marvelous), as Dawn’s ex, now back in her sights, gets similar treatment.

And yet… it somehow works. The actors have such great chemistry, the band sounds great, the jokes consistently land, and the show has a killer ending. I was thoroughly entertained. It works, at least as a play. As a musical, I am not so sure.

For one thing, the score does not seem finished, more like a work-in-progress. Chamberlain and Thomas get the best songs—and sing the hell out of them—but the rest of the cast struggles. I could not recall a single note or melody from any of the others. As Dawn, Becca Ayers, surprisingly gets the worst of it. Despite their spirited vocals they either seem like they are trying to catch up with the band or racing ahead of it. It happens so much that I began to wonder if it was a deliberate choice but that doesn’t make much sense to me. There is also quite a bit of laziness in the connective tissue between dialog and song. Too frequently a character will look up at the band and say something along the lines of, “I’d like to sing a song now.” It’s all a bit slipshod.

So where do we land at the end? Out Here is by no means a finished show. Every element of it needs work and polishing. But despite all the above I had such an enjoyable time at the show that I cannot not recommend it. It is grade inflation to be sure, but the richness of its themes and the complexity of the characters, not to mention the actors embodying those characters, makes it worth a viewing.

So go watch it. A bit of unevenness never hurt anybody. Think of the messiness of the production as apropos to the messiness of divorce.

There’s your loophole.

You will be entertained.

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photos by Michael Brosilow

Out Here
Court Theatre, 5535 S. Ellis Ave.
Wed–Fri at 7:30; Sat & Sun at 2 & 7:30
ends on May 10, 2026
100 minutes, no intermission
for tickets ($60-$99), call 773.753.4472 or visit Court Theatre

for more shows, visit Theatre in Chicago

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