After Governor Bruce Rauner hired Illinois Policy Institute President Kristina Rasmussen as his new chief of staff, I reached out to one of the House Republicans who voted to override the governor’s budget and tax-hike vetoes. How was he feeling?

“You mean after the irate phone calls and e-mails and the letter that arrived at my house today telling me and my wife (by name) to move out?” he texted back. “I’m doing fine – seriously I am. I can just guess what the new chief of staff might have in store for me.”

Rasmussen’s anti-tax group essentially weaponized its Facebook page against lawmakers during the run-up to and aftermath of the overrides of Rauner’s vetoes.

Everybody wants to see that hot, innovative musical. You know the one. It’s cool and diverse, sexy, sacred to its fans, and combines hip music and lyrics with some phenomenal choreography. The one in which a man and woman fall into a forbidden love that takes place amidst a bloody war between rival armies with a deadly duel as part of its climax. C’mon, you know the show I'm taking about, right?

No, not Hamilton. Sheesh.

To download a PDF of the puzzle, click here.

As stage bummers go, The Trojan Women has always been one of the most glorious – an astoundingly eloquent and affecting anti-war argument that plumbs depths of almost immeasurable sadness. Yet as Genesius Guild’s current presentation of the Greek tragedy reminds us, Euripides’ play can also deliver a fantastic amount of joy, at least if you, too, annually wish that Guild offerings gave their female participants a little more to do.

Don Denton, Shelley Walljasper and ensemble members in Zombie Prom

I mean no offense, but I just have to get this off my chest: Zombie Prom – the first production in the inaugural season of new theatre company the Mississippi Bend Players, directed by Broadway veteran Philip Wm. McKinley – is dumb. There, I said it. I mean, we're talking about a kitschy, '50s-era musical comedy in which a pubescent zombie goes to a high-school prom, for God's sake.

But before QC theatre elites call for my head, hear me out, because the gift of having a talent such as McKinley helm this type of production is that he knows how to create a show boasting a complete vision, and he also utilizes top-level talent to take a silly script and turn it into something exceptionally entertaining.

After years of ugly gridlock and weeks of groups and political leaders whipping up an already-disgusted populace over a 1.2-percentage-point income-tax increase, lots of legislators were understandably on edge last week.

Representative Will Guzzardi (D-Chicago) tweeted ahead of the votes to override Governor Bruce Rauner’s vetoes of a budget package that it was “hard not to think about the [recent Virginia] congressional shooting showing up to work today.”

And so people were naturally a bit rattled when a woman triggered a more-than-two-hour delay of those override votes as police and a hazardous-materials team frantically combed the Statehouse.

<em>Spider-Man: Homecoming</em>

The first joke of Spider-Man: Homecoming is the prologue’s arrival of the U.S. Department of Damage Control to tidy up a mess made by the Avengers. Damage Control has apparently been part of the Marvel Comics universe for nearly three decades, but this is its first movie appearance, and the name is amusing for its unusual bureaucratic bluntness.

The last joke is a multifaceted nugget in the final seconds before the end credits roll – part intentionally premature cut, part nod to the movie’s PG-13 rating, and part capper to the teenage trials of poor Peter Parker. (He’s repeatedly called “Penis Parker” by one of his classmates, which was probably a major contributor to the MPAA’s decision.)

In between, Homecoming is an almost-constant steam of minor marvels contributing to a shapely whole brimming with pleasure. Like its protagonist when he’s Spider-Man, the movie has an infectiously exuberant youthful zing.

Urban, Third Place: Dale Fehr, Hampton, Illinois (<em>The Bench</em>)

The River Cities’ Reader’s 2017 photo contest received more than 100 entries in four categories: “Uniquely Quad Cities,” “Reflection,” “Urban,” and “Rural.” Here are our winners and favorites.

Todd Martin Stafne

It is with a heavy heart that I write these words. One of my oldest and dearest friends, Todd Martin Stafne, passed unexpectedly at his home on April 11.

Todd was part of the circle of lifelong friends in Bettendorf (three of whom preceded him in death – Chuck High, Dave Glynn, and Dave Halverson) that cornered the market on being the most fun, the best looking, the most popular, and the most fiercely loyal. I have commented before that this special group of friends was a cut above in every respect, cool as hell and just as kind. All still are.

Describing Todd as another total Bettendorf original and force of nature (while entirely true) is putting it mildly. He had a thunderous presence. His joie de vivre was underpinned by a fabulous sense of humor and the ability to tell a story that none could rival. He rocked the house every time. Laughter is one of the things I most cherish about growing up with him.

The opening shot of writer/director Sofia Coppola’s meticulously sumptuous The Beguiled shows a young girl carrying a basket and singing without a care in the world – her steps providing the tune’s rhythm – in a tunnel of trees. It’s sunny out, but the converging crowns mean she’s walking in the dark wood. When she happens upon an injured Union soldier (Colin Farrell) while picking mushrooms, it’s impossible to avoid a single thought: Big Bad Wolf.

The girl helps the man back to her secluded Virginia boarding school for girls – which just happens to have seven female residents. They’re not dwarves, but Corporal John McBurney (once his wounded leg is mostly healed) does help with some groundskeeping. So he’s also Snow White.

To download a PDF of the puzzle, click here.

Zombie Prom

Zombie Prom has the distinction of being the first production in the inaugural season for the Mississippi Bend Players (MBP) – a debuting summer-theatre company, with Philip Wm. McKinley serving as producing artistic director, whose works will be staged at Augustana College’s Brunner Theatre Center.

Christine Radogno was the first female leader of a state legislative caucus in Illinois when she took charge of the Senate Republicans in 2009. That alone puts her in the history books.

But she’s also a decent human being, something that often seems in short supply around the Statehouse.

When she held a press conference last week announcing her July 1 resignation, the fact that several Senate Democrats showed up and then took turns hugging her after it was over demonstrated the deep well of respect and admiration she had built in the building. She even got a hug from House Speaker Michael Madigan after she told her fellow legislative leaders she was resigning in two days. Madigan isn’t the hugging type, at least not at work.

The Dawn. Photo by Laura Heath.

The title-track instrumental of The Dawn’s new Wooly functions as a prelude and an epilogue, bookending its seven proper songs and gently laying the groundwork for the album. Layers of boldly bright keyboards and soulful sax sit prominently up-front beside the guitar, all contributing to a casual and welcoming atmosphere.

The message seems to be that one should expect something a little different from the Quad Cities-based band, a departure from its good-natured, Americana-based jams. And The Dawn delivers that throughout with an impressively broader palette and an emphasis on soul and funk.

But the real kick comes on the record’s second half, and it’s a revelation. When the band not only expands its style but messes around with structure, the results are bracingly good.

Ansel Elgort in Baby Driver

It has no traditional showstopper numbers or crooning chorus kids, and Baby Driver might still prove to be the movie musical of the year.

To download a PDF of the puzzle, click here.

“Welcome to theatre in the park!” announced Genesius Guild Executive Director Doug Tschopp at the June 24 presentation of The Comedy of Errors. Tschopp didn’t, however, say this during his customary greeting and introductory remarks. He said it during an unplanned break roughly 20 minutes into the Shakespeare comedy while he, director Bryan Woods, and a stagehand used makeshift mops to soak up the accumulating rain that had been causing performers to slip.

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