A Steady Rain

Remember that old adage: “When it rains, it pours”? Well, in B Street Theatre's A Steady Rain, there's a veritable deluge of accidents and incidents, physical and emotional turmoil, disappointment and despair that tests the lifelong friendship of two Chicago cops. Throw in a Jeffrey Dahmer-like cannibalistic killer, and you've got one dark drama that spills out in a torrent of words, words, words.

The story of two cops in crisis unfolds in a series of “he said, he said” recollections, monologues, dialogues and addresses to the audience. Lyndsay Burch's direction is swift and sure, and Ron Madonia's punchy lighting design effectively illuminates playwright Keith Huff's script. Despite a few line lapses on opening night, this is one tight production.

Joey and Denny (Dave Pierini and Kurt Johnson, respectively) are the cops, so close since kindergarten that they are more than partners—they're family. Fictive family, anyway. Denny has a real family: a wife, two kids and a dog that he often neglects for his job and his “second job,” shaking down prostitutes and drug dealers for supplemental income. Joey—the usual moral compass of the pair—doesn't support Denny's actions (or his racism or his sometimes taking the law into his own hands), but he's loyal to his “brother.”

Then comes a domestic-violence incident when Joey and Denny make the wrong call, and their lives and careers really turn to shit. Ultimately, one cop will “win” and one will not, but it's hard to cheer the outcome. In A Steady Rain, moral ambiguity reigns.