White Trash Wedding and a Funeral presented by Factory Theater at Prop Theatre

Chicago Tribune - Recommended

"... The music is pure trailer park grandiosity. And under the direction of Scott OKen, the show sticks out its tongue and raises its middle finger at every available opportunity, which is what makes Ed Jones' performance as a jilted waitress such a thing of beauty. Sporting one of the most committed plumber's cracks I've seen in my lifetime, Jones (in drag) finds real pathos in the character. It sounds crazy, I know, but it works. Just watch the way he finesses that karaoke moment when Night Ranger comes on. The cast belts out the chorus to "Sister Christian" like an anthem. Jones sings those words — "Motorin' / What's your price for flight / In finding Mr. Right?" — like a dagger through the heart."

Chicago Reader - Highly Recommended

"...Director Scott "not a typo" OKen runs the show at such a reckless, unvaried pace that the 11 characters sometimes come across as an undifferentiated mass of vulgar screaming, but the whirlwind of tasteless effrontery is as bracing and gleeful as it was 17 years ago."

Centerstage - Somewhat Recommended

"...I didn’t laugh much at the show but I will offer the classic hedge, those who like this sort of thing will find that this is the sort of thing that they like. It’s not my cup of bourbon but I can’t say objectively, as a critic, that it’s a failure because it succeeds in being what it endeavors to be. The most fun and least mean spirited bit in the show is a karaoke montage between Lonnie’s even more dimwitted sidekick (Phil Claudnic) and Oliver’s character."

Time Out Chicago - Recommended

"...The plot follows a doomed wedding between septic-tank fortune heir Earl (Blake Dalzin) and his conniving, pernicious fiancée, Connie (Shannon O’Neill), along with the daft, toothless hicks and drag queens who make up their family and friends. On the road to marital bliss, the clan wades through its own bare asses, vomit, menstrual blood and ejaculate—some of which is less filthy than the dialogue. That’s fine and well, but some of the funniest jokes happen to be the most innocuous, such as an extended audience-interaction bit from Aunt Shirley (Robyn Coffin) and an offhand cast-wide power ballad. As tragic ex-lover Bernice, Ed Jones nicely balances sketch-style absurdity and character work—no small feat with a visible butt crack and tramp stamp."