Live and in person at Video Cabaret, 10 Busy St. Toronto, Ont. Playing until April 20, 2025.
Written and performed by Karen Hines
Co-Directed by Blake Brooker and Michael Kennard
Lighting by Blake Brooker and Andrew Dollar
Original songs by Karen Hines
Musical direction by Chantal Vitalis
Costume consultant, Justin Miller/Pearle Harbour
Karen Hines is a clown, a devotee of bouffon (which is the subversive end of clowning), a satirist of the first order, an observer and social chronicler of the absurdities of life, and a keen practitioner of irony. Karen Hines expresses her quirky, sharp-honed observations of our changing world often through Pochsy (pronounced “Poxy”), a woman with a seemingly ‘unbalanced mind’ or is it just a dark vision of the world with a off-kilter sense of humour?
Karen Hines says in her program note that in her twenties, she “designed Pochsy as a microcosm. An avatar torn from the ragged edges of capitalism, trailing the destruction of consumer obsessions at the same time as she is excited by them. Ultimately alone, perpetually lost.” You get a fine sense of the sharp humour of Karen Hines from her free-wheeling first paragraph.
Pochsy IV: Unplugged is obviously the fourth iteration of this creation who is still commenting on our weird world, albeit after a ‘two-decade break since the last” Pochsy show.
Pochsy worked at Mercury Packers, packing mercury. She lost her job when her employer moved offshore. This sets Pochsy on an almost stream of consciousness as she riffs on unemployment; how mercury forms into beads when it spills on the floor (!!!!); how she won a cruise that turns into its own nightmare when it goes on for days and days without her getting off the boat; and her conversations with God, to note only a few of the subjects getting the Pochsy treatment.
The stage is bare except for some small metal boxes with a red cross on them. The boxes are on the floor for easy access. When the lights come up on Pochsy, she is almost shrouded in shadow. As the lights get brighter we see she wears a black toque with black hair hanging down from it, a black furry jacket that she takes off, under which is a black bustier of sorts, black net top, black skirt and black goth boots. She is demure, slight, often unexpressive visually (the better to gently fling a laugh-line) and when she speaks the voice is soft and might be confused for ‘child-like’.
Some quotes from previous Pochsy shows have described the character as a riff on “Betty Boop.” I think Karen Hines’ creation of Pochsy is more varied and sharper than that. Pochsy is Karen Hines’ invocation of Dorothy Parker—caustic wit, sharp tongued, observer of the foibles of society. Karen Hines expresses Pochsy’s opinions and observations in a soft voice but a crisp delivery, slowly and clearly spoken. The zinger is often at the end of a line. Sometimes she breaks into her own laugh at the observation which adds a new spin to the line. The juxtaposition of incongruity is where humour lies. Karen Hines is a keen observer of that truth. Pochsy is a survivor. Tough but fragile-looking and that is deceptive.
She often opened some of the red-crossed boxes on the floor. One time she took out a bottle of water. Much business was done to try and open it. The demure soul could not. A plea for a “cis man to volunteer to open this impossible-to-open-bottle-of-water.” A man in the front row who looked like Blake Brooker, the director of the show (and husband of Karen Hines) volunteered. He held up the bottle and of course slowly and easily untwisted the bottle top so Pochsy could wet her throat. I thought that was a long way to go for a short, obvious joke. And really? The ‘little woman” needs a burly man to open a bottle? Hmmmmm? Director Blake Brooker also provided lighting along with Andrew Dollar which seemed more neon-flashy than was needed to change from scene to scene.
The observations are sharp but any reaction regarding laughter is muted. I found that interesting for this opening night audience of obvious fans of Karen Hines’ work. But then again, Dorothy Parker’s wit resulted in more like eye-brow-knitting and a nod in recognition, rather than belly laughs.
Karen Hines was a mainstay of Toronto theatre and the comedy scene, until we lost her to the wilds of Calgary, where she moved, years ago. My concerns aside, an opportunity to see this satirist and her observations of our loopy world should not to be missed.
Video Cabaret Presents:
Playing until April 20, 2025.
Running time: 70 minutes (no intermission)