Jasmin Jahal School of Dance

The star of Goodman Theatre’s Venus in Fur is in the midst of her first big break. And look—there goes a bus with her face on it. If you live in Chicago and read the newspaper, ride the train, hail cabs, or ever use the internet, odds are you’ve seen Amanda Drinkall already. At the moment, she’s everywhere. Of course, that wasn’t always the case. Though she’s currently the star of Goodman Theatre’s Venus in Fur—David Ives’s two-character dissection of gender roles, power, and submission—Drinkall made her bones in Chicago’s vibrant storefront theater scene, acting with renowned in-your-face companies such as Red Tape Theatre (where she’s an ensemble member) and Strawdog. At Goodman, she and costar Rufus Collins hold court for a full 90 minutes with a pair of commanding, sexy, and savagely funny performances. It’s a dizzying theatrical feat, made more impressive by the fact that the actress spends the majority of the play wearing rather risqué garb. “My brother couldn’t look at me for a little bit afterward,” Drinkall said. “[My] siblings have been charged with warning my parents about the content. [But] my old pastor from my church…she and her husband came, and they loved it. I’ve got their blessing.” Drinkall’s tour-de-force star turn would be enough to catch the city’s attention all by itself, but, as with all their shows, Goodman’s Venus in Fur ad campaign is everywhere, and the striking promotional photos beat Drinkall to the punch. We talked with the actress about her experience of seeing herself—brows arched, shoulders draped with fur, hair blowing like she’d borrowed Beyoncé’s wind machine—all over the place. The Internet “That’s where I’ve seen myself the most, in ads online,” she said. “A cousin of mine who lives in central Illinois almost three hours away sent me an email saying she was looking at the weather on her computer in this tiny little town and there I was, staring at her from the sidelines.” She laughed. “It’s like, oh! That’s me!” “I mean, it’s any time I go on any website. The ads are always me. Or shoes.” The Marquee “[When I first saw the ad on Goodman’s marquee], I think I laughed out loud. They never told me I was going to be on the marquee, and it sort of didn’t cross my mind…it’s so weird and so funny to see your own face so big.” But the most surreal element of Drinkall’s Venus experience thus far is walking around near the theater after the show. “Even if it’s an hour [later], there’s usually some older ladies or groups of people who will kind of be giving me that side eye, and say”—at this point her inner actress took over and she whispered dramatically—“‘is that…I think maybe that might be…is it?’ Then they might come up to me and say, ‘Are you that actress who was in that Goodman play?’ It’s funny how strangers have felt the need to introduce themselves or to treat me like a fancy star of some kind.” She laughed. “I’ve signed some autographs, which is weird. It’s really cool. It’s weird-cool. [It’s] strangers, obviously. It’s not like my friends are asking me.” The CTA When we first spoke with Drinkall, she had yet to catch a glimpse of one of her bus, train, or cab ads. But she was on the hunt. “I was at a reading last night and a bunch of people were talking about seeing me on stuff, and they said I need to go [to] Sheridan. Apparently I’m driving up and down Sheridan all the time.” It was a good tip. The next morning, it happened. When she saw the bus roll past, “I audibly gasped.” Then she did what anyone might do when they’d just seen themselves on public transit: she posted about it on Facebook. “You all haven't been photoshopping those pictures like I thought,” she wrote. “They're really REAL. BUS FACE!” Venus in Fur runs through April 13 at Goodman’s Albert Theatre (170 N. Dearborn St.). To peer further behind the curtain of the production, check out this video with Drinkall, costar Rufus Collins, and director Joanie Schultz: Photos courtesy of Goodman Theatre. | Shameless plug: Groupon has more ideas for things to do in Chicago than the CTA has busses.

You don’t have to be familiar with AMC’s The Walking Dead to appreciate the subversive cheek of Gorilla Tango Theatre’s Boobs of the Dead: A Walking Dead Burlesque. For starters, the sexy parody doesn't delve too deeply into the TV show; it just follows the first season. (After waking from a coma, Sheriff finds himself in the middle of a zombie plague. He searches for answers and for his Wife Lady—who has been romanced by Best Friend—among the survivors.) Then there are the effects of the plague: the undead strip down to lacy underthings whenever pop music plays. The burlesque show premiered its second run on Friday, October 4. Director Nicole Keating and choreographer Erica Reid have revamped the production with a new cast, new dances, and way more sparkles—the surest sign of a burlesque zombie infection. I sat down with Erica and Nicole ahead of The Walking Dead’s Season 4 premiere on Sunday, October 13, to discuss the sex appeal of zombies, their Season 4 predictions, and their own plans for when the outbreak hits. GROUPON: There’s nothing really sexy about zombies, especially compared to classically romantic vampires or brutish but hunky werewolves. How does your show bring out the sexy in the undead? ERICA REID: Our zombie trope is that the more [infected] they get, the more sexy they become. NICOLE KEATING: [The] girls come in in their sexy costumes, and when they’re not dancing, they’re traditional zombies—but then when the music starts, you get more of the bump-and-grind element, the more traditional burlesque element. ER: When you’re dealing with burlesque and sparkles and corsets, it’s pretty hard for things to not be sexy. G: Does your choreography incorporate any of the classic zombie movements—slow walking, arms out, etc.? How did you infuse that with sensuality? ER: It’s fun to play with the standard [zombie trope of] “now we’re attacking you, and now we’re really sexy, and now we’re going to rip your guts out.” It’s been a fun, playful thing to mix [up those elements], but there is a lot a gore, there is a lot of death, and there is a lot of striptease. NK: In my opinion, the best burlesque has an element of comedy in it. [In our show,] the contrast between the scary zombie archetype and the sexy [choreography] actually ends up being comedic. G: Many of the plot points in Boobs of the Dead revolve around the first season of The Walking Dead. Are there any references to later seasons, like a sexy Governor?  ER: [laughs] No. Maybe for the sequel! N: Yeah, a sexy Michonne and a sexy Governor. Well, Michonne is already hot enough on her own. She doesn’t need any burlesque interpretation. But [our show] mostly [draws from] the first season—at this point you don’t have to be worried about any spoilers or anything. G: The major players in the first season of The Walking Dead are largely male (Rick, Shane, Daryl, Merle). We don’t see strong female characters emerge until later seasons. How does your show subvert the masculine focus of early episodes?  NK: I think it’s part of the fun of it. There’s women interpreting these characters, and they can interpret them as feminine or as masculine as they choose. You have one character who’s playing the Wife Lady, but I think for everybody else it has been a fun experiment of “When am I masculine? When am I feminine?” And even when I’m portraying a more masculine stereotype, how do I make that sexy? ER: I think that’s what Gorilla Tango burlesque does really well: playing with gender ambiguity. You’re here to see these attractive women doing the art of striptease, but they’re playing male characters, so how do I feel about that? How do the characters interact with each other? Do they acknowledge what gender they are? So it’s fun to play with that and see how each show interprets that in their performances. G: If you could pick just one cast member to see the show, who would you pick—and how do you think they'd react? NK: Steven Yuen [who plays Glenn], I think, would get a big kick out of it because he comes from a Chicago improv background, and improv and burlesque are definitely part of the same Venn diagram. [And] like you said, it’s a very masculine [cast], so I don’t think any of them are going to be upset with a lady taking off her clothes. G: What are your predictions for Season 4 of The Walking Dead? Who do you want to bring the Governor to justice—Michonne, Rick, or Daryl?  NK: I have a preference for the archetypal heroes, so I would love it to be Rick, but I know there’s a lot of people that are really pushing for Daryl. [But] Michonne is also a badass. [She] is one of my favorite characters. G: Last year, a Burlesque Chicago review raved about the show’s sexy horse. Was that the most challenging routine to choreograph?  ER: Last year it was, and we changed the number for this show. So if you saw the show last year, it’s a brand-new number in that space. It’s not challenging in that it’s hard to choreograph for a sexy horse, but in the fact that it is a mutilation scene. So trying to find ways to make that— NK: Not a snuff film? ER: Yeah. [In my numbers,] I’m really big into making the women be in control and really enjoying the act that’s happening. It’s a big challenge [to do that] when someone is being sort of ripped apart. But it’s something that I’m proud of. I love that number in this show. G: Let’s say that a real zombie outbreak hits outside Gorilla Tango Theatre at the corner of Milwaukee and Western. Where do you hole up? Where do you gather supplies?  ER: I know for me personally I’d probably want to book it down to Revolution [Brewing] just so I could have a lot of beer. NK: The brewery section of Revolution is quite large, so it might even have that shopping-mall aspect. I’d be useless in a zombie apocalypse, though. I like to think I’m a Buffy type who would actually be able to kill any sort of vampire or undead creature, but no, I’d be one of the first to go. E: But if we were at Revolution, we could somehow find pickaxes and tear down the [brewery tanks] and maybe make some armor and shields. G: I would probably just drink the beer.   NK: And there is one character [in Boobs of the Dead] that decides to do just that: drink and enjoy the show. Boobs of the Dead is scheduled to run on select weekend nights through Friday, December 27, including a special Halloween performance on Thursday, October 31. Tickets are $35 per person, and the show is for those 18 and older. Photo: Courtesy of K Leo/Gorilla Tango Theatre

When actor John Hoogenakker came to the vaunted theater department of Chicago’s DePaul University, he walked into a program where dedication was rewarded and half-measures were dealt with swiftly. “At that point it had a pretty intense system,” Hoogenakker says. “They would cut half the students after the first year, and then they did that again after the second year.” Hoogenakker survived, leaving with the ability to tackle dark, unhinged, and complex personalities that landed him on stage at Chicago’s Goodman, Steppenwolf, and Writers Theatre. The North Carolina native also left with a deep love for the City of Big Shoulders, one that he put on display for the entire country during a recent stint on NBC’s Chicago Fire. DePaul’s trial by fire prepared him for acting, but had it prepared him for actual fire? Working Side by Side with Chicago Firefighters During his five-episode stint as firehouse snitch Lt. Spellman, Hoogenakker earned the ire of department regulars, animosity which culminated in a heated confrontation between Hoogenakker and…well, everyone else. Despite the on-screen tension, he says the cast and crew—from the principal actors to the extras—are like one big family. And about those “extras”—they’re actually real members of the Chicago Fire Department. “There’s a wonderful sort of camaraderie that’s been formed with actual firefighters in Chicago who have been stepping into these roles from time to time,” Hoogenakker says. Firefighters such as Tony Ferraris (a show regular and squad member in his firehouse) and Steve Chikerotis (who is an icon in local firefighter lore) work on the show to advise actors on what they would actually do when confronted with certain situations. Working with them allowed Hoogenakker to “develop an even more profound respect for the sacrifices that firefighters make every day without even thinking about it. No hesitation whatsoever.” That closeness also translated into invitations to fight fires in real life. Hoogenakker says Jesse Rangel from the firehouse near his home was always excited to have him come by: “These guys were like, ‘Anytime you want to go out, man, anytime, just swing by the firehouse.’” Fighting a Fire on Screen Hoogenakker declined, but even without real-world experience, he still got a taste of the rigors of firefighting. On his first day on the set, Hoogenakker, loaded down with 40 pounds of bunker gear, found himself gripping a fire hose inside a burn room, a structure used to simulate real fire conditions. When the director called action, they “[turned] up the dial and flames [started] pouring out of the wall.” He explains that he “was shooting a line of water down a hallway that was lit up like the Fourth of July.” As a newbie on the show, he didn’t want to be the guy who caused problems, so he kept going even though the heat was starting to get to him. Luckily, “there was an actual fireman behind me who kept trying to pull me back because he saw that I was standing in flames.” He and the entire crew got a break to cool off, but his brush with firefighters’ focus on realism and safety made it “humbling to watch those guys work.” “It was fun,” he says. “And they were kind enough to say to me as I was leaving, ‘Hey, we didn’t kill you,’ so at least I’ve got that going for me.” Digging Deep for Untapped Emotions Even though it doesn’t involve fighting fires, working in Chicago theater also puts actors through their paces. In his latest play, Conor McPherson’s Port Authority, Hoogenakker played Dermot, a “raging alcoholic with clearly a lot of anger issues.” Dermot’s barely contained hostility often boiled over in the audience’s direction, with Hoogenakker shouting from the edge of the stage and letting a range of almost terrifying emotions play across his face as he struggled to maintain his grip on a changing life situation. Hoogenakker says that one of the best notes he got during rehearsals was from director Bill Brown, who said, “Don’t be afraid to be ugly in this role…and really live in that darkness.” By exploring the truthfulness of his darker characters, he helped audience members tap into the shadowy corners of their own psyches. Making Chicago a Center for Film and TV Though some would argue these skills should take him to Hollywood or Broadway, Hoogenakker sees himself primarily as a Chicago actor. He credits the city’s communal atmosphere as the biggest thing separating it from New York and LA. “After about five, six, seven years or so, you kind of have gotten to know pretty much everybody…when you go from theater to theater, it just feels like you’re moving in with this part of your family or going to visit these folks,” he says. If Hoogenakker had his way, there would be “a slight paradigm shift with shows and movies originating in Chicago with production dollars coming from Chicagoans who want to see that happen.” In his world, the great work being done in his adopted city’s playhouses would continue to fuel the surge of locally filmed TV shows like Boss, Sirens, Chicago Fire, and Chicago PD. “All these shows are a testament to the strength of the acting community here, and I think the more that we can get in town, the better.” You can relive John Hoogenakker’s appearances on NBC’s Chicago Fire, Starz’s Boss, and ABC’s Mind Games, or catch him in the Goodman Theatre’s revival of The Iceman Cometh in New York in 2015. Photo courtesy of John Hoogenakker