Amidst the laughter that accompanied Saturday night's Lincoln Park presentation of The Frogs, I was especially aware of one particular audience member's vocal enjoyment. He was seated quite a bit away from me, but judging by the timbre, I'd say he was about five or six, and he'd routinely giggle with an involuntary, infectious happiness that made it sound as though he was being tickled. A bunch of us were, actually.

THE BOURNE ULTIMATUM

There's a lot of plot in The Bourne Ultimatum - all manner of clandestine meetings and hidden motivations and governmental conspiracies - but the story can be neatly summed up by the titular fugitive himself: "Someone started all this," Bourne tells the brother of his murdered lover, "and I'm gonna find him." Nothing else is really germane here, and the exhilaration of this third entry in the spy-thriller franchise is that, with as visceral a filmmaker as Paul Greengrass at the helm, nothing else needs to be.

Nothing about the Circa '21 Dinner Playhouse's production of Don't Dress for Dinner makes the slightest bit of sense. Including my liking it as much as I did.

You might think it odd that, for its penultimate summer production, the Timber Lake Playhouse is staging Irving Berlin's White Christmas, thereby celebrating the holiday season a good two or three months before the malls will. But the actual presentation turns out to be stranger still. Not only are you getting White Christmas here, you're getting three or four different White Christmases; the results aren't bad, necessarily, but the show winds up feeling a bit like the Bing Crosby classic as co-directed by Michael Curtiz, Tommy Tune, and Rip Taylor.