You could stage all seven of the plays comprising Ike Holter's Rightlynd cycle over one day (with a dinner break). Theaters looking to make history should start planning to do that very thing, now that the concluding chapter in the saga of a Chicago neighborhood-in-transition has premiered. And a handsome premiere it is, too. After five years of storefront shacks and pocket-change budgets, the denizens of Holter's down-and-gritty 51st Ward gathered for a backyard party are surrounded by a house and garden (with a menacing hint of the future in the incongruous Alhambra-style residence next door) hinting at a multitude of secrets and revelations as complex and weighty as those of August: Osage County. These are initially presented in the kind of faux-pandemonium vocal harmonies only achievable in live performance by a cast well-schooled in ensemble acting. Following a pause in the narrative progress (but not the onstage activity—restless audiences can consider this an intermission), we become privy to a few private conversations before the survivors part company, some to fight another day and some to ride into the sunset. Comparisons to August Wilson are inevitable, but Holter still has enough career ahead of him (even with Hollywood beckoning) for more ambitious projects. In the meantime, playgoers still regretting their absence of foresight in having missed the early plays of Tracy Letts are advised not to make the same mistake again.
