Time Out Chicago / Issue 182 : Aug 21–27, 2008
Don’t let the chirpy,
self-help-book title sway you: Local freelance broadcaster Jenniffer
Weigel’s monologue piece about seeking a posthumous, supernatural bond
with her late father—sports anchor Tim Weigel, who died from a brain
tumor in 2001—is a ladle above bite-size Chicken Soup for the Soul
comfort food. Weigel, whose résumé also includes some early-career
acting stints at legendary Wisdom Bridge Theatre, isn’t going to
challenge Spalding Gray anytime soon, but her sympathetic naturalism
onstage makes her anecdote-strewn journey easy to swallow.
Weigel peoples her quest
with wonderful characters, self-deprecating skepticism, and insider Ron
Burgundy–worthy stories of Chicago broadcasting that could (and should)
form the basis for another solo work. The industry anecdotes establish
Weigel as a earthbound bullshit-detector, making the neo-spiritualist
journey that comes next acceptable instead of eyeball-rolling.
And
yet it’s the father-daughter dynamic that, despite its centerpiece
treatment, seems somehow shrouded. It’s admirable that Weigel doesn’t
stoop to maudlin TV-ratings-sweep exploitation in describing her
father’s final moments, and her lingering loss is palpable and moving.
But it also hints at something she’s not saying. Weigel describes her
father alternately as a great guy everybody loved and a distracted
parent who, though encouraging, also seemed distant. So was Weigel
looking for acceptance by pursuing her own broadcasting career? If so,
her tales of Tim Weigel navigating the spiritual ether to connect with
her, and his final, guiding advice would have more resonance. But who
are we to put Weigel on the couch? Consider this the pop-spiritualist
antidote to the Harpo Studios fan club.
— Craig Keller
