[In the following review of Barbara Gaines's 1999 staging of Henry IV, Parts 1 and 2 at the Chicago's Shakespeare Repertory Theater, Henning praises the outstanding performances of nearly all the cast members, and applauds the dramaturgical effects employed by Gaines and her lighting, music, and costume designers.]

Part 1 of Shakespeare's Henry IV is arguably his best and most theatrical play, which makes it one of the very best plays we have in our language. Part 2, when it must stand alone, isn't as good; it's darker and less heroic, but it's even funnier and offers another hugely entertaining helping of that gigantic character, Sir John Falstaff. Both parts are on offer by the Shakespeare Repertory Theater through May 2 and—if you are ever tempted to travel for an epic theater experience—this is a chance to do so and get full value.

Not only Falstaff, but Prince Hal, Hotspur and all the other great ones are brought to vivid life in this matched set of splendid productions. Barbara Gaines gets her actors to go way beyond merely reaching for Royal Shakespeare Company locutions. Instead, they step into the nature of these characters. Greg Vinkler is the best of a very good lot. His Falstaff fills the theater. Falstaff is, of course, a hugely fat man speaking prose, but Mr. Vinkler's Falstaff has an elegant sense of verbal and physical rhythm. Larry Yando is a remarkably regal King Henry, wracked by nightmares and the torment of an errant son as the plays begin, restored and energized by war, then increasingly frail as his sons assume his power. Kevin Gudahl's Prince Hal bears a noteworthy physical resemblance to filmmaker Kenneth Branagh's self-assured Henry V, but this Hal is a harbinger of Shakespeare's (and Branagh's) later Hamlet—not certain of who he is, not sure who he wants to be. Thomas Vincent Kelly doesn't fall for the trap of a stammering, overdone Hotspur. He does equally well with the poetry and the passion. All he lacks is a more convincing wig.

Except for the crudely drawn women of the Boar's Head Tavern, these plays offer little for actresses. There is neither a queen here, nor even a serious date for Prince Hal. But Susan Hart is a worthy Lady Percy, frustrated by Hotspur's narrow obsessions, but drawn by his passions, and McKinley Carter stops hearts and the show with her lovely Welsh songs as the simple wife of Mortimer. The music and the setting of this little scene are quite beautiful.

Perhaps it's best that Ms. Gaines failed to put together a flawless company. The constant presence of Fredric Stone's Northumberland demonstrates by contrast how good almost everyone else is. His Northumberland looks and sounds like Marty Feldman wandering in from the set of “Young Frankenstein.” In Part 2, after Northumberland finally succumbs, Mr. Stone redeems himself with a suitably catatonic portrayal of Justice Silence.

On a simple thrust stage, Ms. Gaines and her crew know how to grab an audience. The first scene opens with a baleful cello piece, one of several wonderful musical compositions by Alaric Jans. We are then quickly drawn into King Henry's terrible nightmare. Donald Holder's lighting illuminates this nightmare, and later establishes interior corridors and murky battlefields with little in the way of physical settings. Some of Virgil Johnson's costumes work very well, as with King Henry's regal robes and Falstaff's ridiculous sleepwear, but the leather togs in which Mr. Johnson dresses his soldiers seem an attempt to vault five centuries into a Hollywood fantasy of a gay bar.

To get the full power of these plays in tandem, you should try to see them in one day, and there will be several such opportunities. When an audience spends an afternoon in a theater, goes out for dinner and returns en masse, it's more than a bunch of individuals filling the auditorium. It becomes an organism. It owns the seats, it owns the house, it owns the actors, it owns the play. We only rarely get such chances.

Another reason for getting in here for these productions is that they are the last that Ms. Gaines, the Shakespeare Repertory Theater's founder and artistic director, will stage in her company's adopted home that for a dozen years has been a modest dance studio seating only 333. (This space is so intimate that I wanted to throw myself on the Douglas when he attacked King Henry.) Next fall, they will open their own seven-story theater (now under construction on Navy Pier) with a 525-seat house, a studio theater, an English pub and lots of rehearsal space. No company deserves a fine home more than this one. But we must pray that Ms. Gaines's magical power to evoke the riches of Shakespeare won't be lost in the brave new world she is about to enter.