James Turano Photo by Aaron Reese Boseman Photography

Kevin Rolfs' technical and scenic design are sure to (rightly) garner awards. Rolfs created a glassed-in control booth upstage left. Just stage right of this, the upstage wall of the TV set begins, slanting slightly down right. The anchor desk with its UBS logo sits closest to the booth with a large, flatscreen display above it. Stage right of this is a bank of nine monitors that alternately run projections establishing some setting outside the studio, footage from two TV cameras that contribute to the bedrock of the show, and a variety of vintage programming, featuring everything from Hungry Jack ads to the live-action "The Amazing Spider-Man" TV series.

In addition to these fixed components, a variety of moveable elements (e.g., high-top bar tables, armchairs, and so on) set the few scenes outside the studio. Here, Rachel Livingston's scenic dressing and props design make terrific contributions to both the show's well-done pace and its satire, as an executive desk transforms before our eyes into a working diner, complete with table settings fixed to the white table cloth.

Petter Wahlbäck (sound design) and Chad Lussier (lighting design/technical consultant) complete the bubble of the set with a combination of low-level chatter and unforgivingly harsh light, very occasionally relieved for more intimate scenes. Finally, Jessie Gowens' costume designer/wardrobe supervision captures the mid-'70s vibe to perfection, without feeling like the result of a distracting vintage treasure hunt.

As Howard Beale, James Turano's performance is powerful. There's an obvious temptation to give in entirely to the satire, and in so doing, to destroy much of the role's power, yet Turano deftly conveys the possibility that Beale may be mad, newly enlightened, or both, and it may be impossible to distinguish among these.

Turano is so good, though, that his performance shines a light a bit too brightly on a shortcoming of the text, the production or both: in one of the scenes very near the end of the play, Beale and the old friend he'd come up in the business with, Max Schumacher (Chuck Munro), commiserate over drinks about Beale's tanking ratings and the self-inflicted dissolution of Schumacher's career, marriage, and affair. The conversation is sharp and interesting, and it has the potential to be enlightening, as a tone-deaf Beale laughs heartily over Max's delusion that the two of them were once "above it all."

Max seemingly realizes that his friend, as well as the news anchor he once genuinely respected, is well and truly lost to the "wasteland" of television. As Max storms out, Howard seems to briefly regain some kind of human connection, but there's so little real development of the relationship between the two men that the moment rings hollow. There's nothing to criticize in the performance of either actor, but it's a sudden bump that weakens the stakes of the entire story.

A similar problem plagues the relationship between Schumacher and Diana Christensen (Anne Trodden), the unrepentantly ambitious chief of programming. Whereas the soulless career woman may have been novel and a point of fascination in 1976, the character and the "male menopause" relationship simply do not read at all well almost 50 years on.

Again, that is not at all to criticize either Munro or Trodden, who turn in excellent performances, working with plot points and dialogue that could easily have fallen entirely flat. It may be believable that two such people might fall into a relationship that started out as a maneuver, then lapsed into morbid curiosity, but there's nothing about it that sheds light on or deepens the rest of the story. It reads as straightforward repetition (and therefore commission) of the kind of misogyny women very pointedly still face, rather than commentary on or satire of same.

In the supporting cast, Patrick Blashill is electrifying as the great and powerful Arthur Jensen, head of the organization that buys the network. Joe Sergio is also delightfully hateful as Frank Hackett, Diana's enthusiastic partner in programming crime. James Lewis (Director), Whitney Minarik (Floor Manager), Ophelia Harkness (Production Assistant), and John Chambers (Harry Hunter) all keep the tension high as they quietly react (or pointedly do not react) to each new layer of insanity, then just as quietly reset to the new normal.

Network runs through September 29, 2024, at Windy City Playhouse, 3014 W. Irving Park Road, Chicago IL. For tickets and information, please visit www.invictustheatreco.com.