WITH ITS BASES LOADED,
THEO UBIQUE HITS
ANOTHER GRAND SLAM

A clever, heartfelt revival proves
this Golden Age favorite still
knows how to play ball

There’s a bit of a curveball early in Theo Ubique’s sparkling revival of Damn Yankees, the classic 1955 musical from Richard Adler and Jerry Ross, with a book by George Abbott and Douglass Wallop. Having made his deal with the Devil—or rather, Mr. Applegate—Joe Boyd is preparing to leave his sleeping wife for a spell. Given that this is a musical, his farewell comes in the form of a song: “Goodbye Old Girl,” a sweet but often-overlooked number that usually functions as a bit of a lark before the real fun begins. Only someone seems to have forgotten to tell that to the wonderful Thomas M. Shea, who invests the song with so much affection and emotion that it becomes an especially poignant moment—not a farewell so much as an explanation from a man who sees himself as an underachiever and maybe even a failure, and who now has an opportunity to make his wildest dreams come true. It is a tonal shift that comes out of left field, but in its seriousness creates a powerful emotional through-line that serves the show beautifully.

One of the umpteen reworkings of Faust, Damn Yankees opens in a 1950s living room where Joe Boyd, a baseball fanatic and middle-aged businessman—in that order—is following the game on the radio, listening to his local team, the Washington Senators, do what they do best: lose. After his wife Meg (Meghan Hoyt), a long-suffering baseball widow, goes to bed in irritation, Joe stays up grumbling about his team, their lack of a good hitter, and, for good measure, the “Damn (New York) Yankees,” that most reviled—outside of New York, of course—team in the American League. In walks a dapper, slick gentleman, Mr. Applegate (Tommy Thurston, having the time of his life).

Mr. Applegate has a proposition for Joe: he will de-age him and turn him into the greatest long hitter baseball has ever seen, but on September 24—a day before the final game of the regular season, a very important detail—Joe will revert back to his real self and belong to Mr. Applegate for all eternity. The shrewd businessman that he is, Joe negotiates an escape clause and then agrees. Transformed into a young, fresh-faced ballplayer (Luke Nowakowski), Joe Boyd, newly rechristened Joe Hardy, heads off to join the Senators, his “agent” Applegate in tow.

Manuel Ortiz’s set takes the form of a miniature baseball diamond tilted slightly forward—why make it easier for the dancers, eh?—with the players’ lockers at the rear. The audience is seated in boxes around the perimeter, and the bar serves hot dogs at intermission. It’s all very clever, though given the confines of Theo’s space, I was quite relieved that no hot dogs were purchased and consumed, at least nowhere near me.

Christopher Chase Carter’s choreography is delightful and occasionally very cheeky—witness the baseball-bat bit in the Act II opener, “The Game”—and, as is now expected of them, Theo Ubique and director Daryl Brooks have assembled a top-notch ensemble. Nowakowski has an impressive set of pipes and brings an appropriately aw-shucks quality to Joe Hardy. He also shares a gentle chemistry with Hoyt, and their scenes together are rather sweet.

But as in every production of Damn Yankees, the real stars are the performers playing Lola and Mr. Applegate. Jenny Couch, who plays Lola, initially seemed miscast; her sprite-like figure and squeaky affect are at odds with my usual conception of the character. Yet as the show went on, her performance steadily grew on me. Much like Shea’s Joe Boyd, there is more melancholy in this interpretation than I am accustomed to seeing, and what it loses in sultriness it gains in depth. Plus, she has mad dancing skills, which Carter exploits to the fullest.

In every adaptation of Faust, whether drama (The Devil’s Advocate), comedy (Bedazzled), or musical theatre (Randy Newman’s Faust), the meatiest role is always the Devil. Damn Yankees is no exception. Right off the bat, Tommy Thurston hits it out of the park—okay, okay, no more sportsball metaphors. His Mr. Applegate is sneering, scheming, smarmy perfection. Whether manipulating Hardy and Thorpe or threatening Lola, he steals the show every time he walks onstage, and his big number, “Those Were the Good Old Days,” brought the house down—twice.

Almost everyone in the ensemble makes an impression. Maddie Brunner (Doris) and Shannon McEldowney (Sister) are a rapid-fire source of hilarity. It took me almost an act and a half to place Jon Parker Jackson (Rocky) as the Bishop from Jekyll & Hyde; his sweet, soft-spoken Southern catcher here is about as far from that slimy piece of villainy as one can get. And before Alex Madda’s shrewd reporter Gloria Thorpe had even said a word onstage, I was in love. Speaking of Thorpe, Marquecia Jordan’s costumes and wigs for the show in general, and Thorpe in particular, are fantastic.

I did not expect Damn Yankees to have aged this well, especially given how creaky some of it is. But Theo Ubique is possibly the best company in town—you heard me—when it comes to mounting musicals from Broadway’s Golden Age. They may not have the space for Broadway-scale spectacle, but they compensate with an overabundance of creativity, and their artistic instincts are invariably on point. Damn Yankees is not quite as good as their last production, the ersatz Golden Age musical The Drowsy Chaperone—still the most enjoyable two hours I have spent in a theatre this year—but it is damn good fun.

Play ball!

(I know I promised. I lied.)

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photos by Elizabeth Stenholt Photography

Damn Yankees
Theo Ubique Cabaret Theatre
The Fred Anzevino Theatre, 721 Howard Street in Evanston
Thurs–Sat at 7:30pm; Sun at 6pm (dark June 19 & July 4)
ends on July 5, 2026 EXTENDED to July 12, 2026
for tickets ($33–$66, including fees), call 773.939.4101 or visit Theo Ubique

for more shows, visit Theatre in Chicago

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