Words, music blend in Lookingglass show

The most striking thing about "Nelson Algren: For Keeps and a Single Day," Lookingglass Theatre's artful and absorbing multimedia homage to Chicago's not-quite-native son but one of its most compelling chroniclers, is the way it sounds.

Start with David Pavkovic's jazzy, often frenetic score, enthusiastically performed by percussionist Kevin O'Donnell and bassist Bob Lovecchio. A vigorous, moody soundtrack echoing the pulse of the city, it's the rapid heartbeat of a heartless town inhabited by heartsick people. Pair that with Pavkovic's evocative sound design that integrates the unmistakable, ominous rumble of an approaching elevated train and the insistent click-clack of manual typewriter keys. Then there's the way Algren's words roll so effortlessly off the tongue of the sublime Thomas J. Cox, who originated the role in the original 2001 production, and whose performance is about as keen and as natural as they come.

But most of all, it's the sound of Algren's prose: the unsentimental, remarkably observant, harshly lovely working-class patois that characterized novels like "The Man with the Golden Arm" (winner of the first National Book Award) and his 1951 prose poem, "Chicago: City on the Make" from which much of "For Keeps and a Single Day" is drawn.

If you didn't know Algren before, director John Musial's production provides an unforgettable introduction.

Like Algren's writing, the play is unromantic yet empathetic and underscored by simple respect. It begins with a truncated history of Chicago and evolves into a paean to the city's hustlers and squares, the gamblers and fixers, the bosses, junkies, hookers and outcasts that gave it character and of whom Algren wrote so eloquently. It unfolds as a series of vignettes, including "American Obituary" about a black man "slugged for 90 cents;" the unsettling "Faces Out of the Past," about a heroin-addicted prostitute and the regret-tinged "Love is for Barflies" and "No El Stops Here Anymore." A spare, noirish film by Musial accompanies each of them. Revealing cinematic counterpoints, they are seamlessly integrated into the narrative, adding a strong visual presence (a Lookingglass signature) into a show rooted in language.

Speaking of compelling visuals, "For Keeps and a Single Day" is paired with MCA lobby exhibition of 19 works (some of which are featured in the production) by Chicago photographer Art Shay, an Algren friend and collaborator. It's a striking coda to a show that will echo long after its too-short run concludes.