Playwright: Marion J. CaffeyAt: Northlight Theatre, 9501 Skokie Blvd.Phone: (847) 673-6300; $34-$48Runs through: Jan. 11Alberta Hunter, with her smoky voice, boundless energy, and zest for life, might have been enough to build a play around. Factor in her history, which includes a move from Chicago from Memphis at around age 11 (on her own), childhood sexual abuse, a career that spanned the globe and saw towering heights and depressing lows, an ambiguous personal and romantic life, a career as a licensed practical nurse, and an undying devotion to her mother, and you may well have a strong story, capable of stirring audiences with poignancy, humor, and depth. And finally, add in the fact that Hunter’s determination to become a vocal force in jazz and blues to be reckoned with saw her appear on stages from Chicago South Side dives frequented by prostitutes and pimps, to performing at the White House, to wowing audiences in the finest venues in Paris and London, to performing in the USO for troops in two wars, to recording many, many jazz and blues records, to a triumphant musical comeback in her 80s, and you have … well, something remarkable. Playwright Marion J. Caffey had a rich mother lode of materials when he sat down to write Cookin’ at the Cookery: The Life and Times of Alberta Hunter. The title refers to the Greenwich Village nightspot that saw Hunter’s return to the stage, at age 84, when she delighted audiences with her rich voice, charm, and personal interpretations of her own and other’s—such as Eubie Blake’s and Irving Berlin’s—music. As a biography, Cookin’ at the Cookery is successful in getting across all the highs and lows of Hunter’s life in an expedient, compressed manner. With just two actresses portraying Hunter at various stages, as well as key figures in her life, the play is an economical, polished, and crowd-pleasing vehicle. Darker moments, such as Hunter’s childhood sexual abuse, are touched very lightly upon, staying true to the facts but not bogging down the exuberance of the high points. More controversial points, such as the possibility that Hunter was a lesbian, are brought up and quickly dismissed. Cookin’ at the Cookery is more a showcase for Hunter’s exuberance and her music. Caffey’s dedication to producing a piece of slick entertainment over a more probing portrait is obvious. And that’s not such a bad thing. Cookin’ at the Cookery is a rockin’ piece of entertainment. Much of the credit for it being so much fun to watch has to go to its two principles: Janice Lorraine (who narrates and plays a host of other characters, including a young Alberta Hunter) and Ernestine Jackson (who portrays Alberta throughout most of her life, as well as her mother). Lorraine is a wonder, slipping effortlessly from a child Alberta to Cookery owner and friend, Barney Josephson, to many others. But when Lorraine, a slight Black woman, channels Louis Armstrong for a rousing ‘When the Saints Go Marchin’ In,’ she stops the show. Her performance is awe-inspiring. But it’s Ernestine Jackson that really made the show for me. I love Alberta Hunter: her throaty voice, her winking interpretations, the joy she takes in her music and, before attending this show, I wondered how someone could rise to the occasion of accurately interpreting her. Not only does Jackson interpret Hunter, she brings her to life. For me, the show would have been enough to merely have Jackson stand on a bare stage and sing Hunter favorites, such as ‘My Castle’s Rockin,’ ‘Rough and Ready Man,’ ‘Down Hearted Blues,’ ‘Sweet Georgia Brown,’ ‘My Handy Man Ain’t Handy No More,’ and ‘The Love I Have for You.’ If you missed Alberta Hunter in real life, Ernestine Jackson provides a worthy substitute.