March 27, 2024.

Not a rant, but some thoughts on Theatre Criticism:

There seems to be a lot of confused talk about theatre critics and theatre criticism lately, mostly by those who don’t actually know what the point and purpose is of theatre criticism. There is an effort to make it a ‘them (the artist) vs. us (the critics)’ situation, when in fact it is an us (both together) for the artform of ‘theatre.’  Let me try and help clarify what a review is; who it’s for; and why reviews are important, for those who are confused.  I’m only speaking for myself, as I always do.

I have some experience here for context: I studied theatre history and theatre criticism at York University in a four-year undergraduate honours program, History, Theory and Criticism of Theatre. The basis of the program was the European tradition of theatre, the roots in this case. And from that background one can broaden one’s focus. But also added to that basis were many courses of “Non-traditional Theatre”, which led to studying the Noh and Kabuki Theatre of Japan, which led to Chinese Opera, which lead to South Asian Theatre, puppetry and mask from Indonesia, works from South Africa and Kenya, which led to South America. European theatre was the beginning that led to other cultures.

I took theatre courses in other areas of theatre for a grounding: design, stage management work etc. No desire or talent in that. I learned in a high school production I can’t act. Don’t want to. Moving on. I took courses in other artforms for context (dance history in my case).  I was lucky to have such a wealth of available knowledge in my education. And I discovered my calling of theatre criticism when we had to write an analysis of a character in a play and what the set would look like, in second year. That was enough. I found my passion.

The beauty of a solid, broad-reaching theatre/life education is that we learn the basics of the craft and art, taught by caring, rigorous teachers who then challenge our ideas to see that they are well founded and supported. A critical or positive comment without example is just blather. Further to this comment, in my Theatre Criticism Course we had to write weekly reviews for marking and comment. I recall one in particular: I got the review back marked, with comments. Over the first four paragraphs my Theatre Criticism Professor wrote the word “drivel.” I remember blushing and being embarrassed at the comment. Then I took a breath and looked carefully at the four paragraphs to see what he was talking about. And he was right. It was drivel, self-indulgent, waffly and lacking in the proper rigor needed. Fortunately, I learned life skills to cope with criticism, harsh comments, and learn from it to be a better critic. Life skills—they are important to help one cope with life in all its variations.

I was smitten with the theatre at 12 and have been going steadily to the theatre ever since.  My reviews have been published in various publications since 1972. I did reviews on CBC Radio’s Here and Now for 10 years and since 2011 have done reviews weekly on CIUT.fm, first for CIUT Friday Morning and now Critics Circle. I also publish my own theatre blog The Slotkin Letter that contains my reviews of what I see in Toronto, environs, New York, London, and elsewhere.  

I find that writing reviews is the best way of spreading my enthusiasm for theatre. It’s also the best way of informing the reader, and one hopes to create a better, more observant audience. A better, more discerning audience improves the artform.

What is a theatre review?

Ideally, the critic tries to move toward an objective, arm’s length evaluation about a piece of theatre that has affected the critic subjectively. Again, that objectivity should be based on their training and the nature of the work. We all have likes and dislikes. The trick is not to let personal feelings, friendships or animosity get in the way of being fair in the assessment. That’s what I mean by objective.  I review on the basis of merit, not taste. If I have a bias, I say so. How the play affected me emotionally is not what a rigorous review is about. I think of E.B. White’s wonderful poem “THE CRITIC” as the example:

                                    The Critic leaves at curtain fall

                                    To find in starting to review it,

                                    He scarcely saw the play at all

                                    For watching his reaction to it.

Exactly.  

The opinions vary according to the critic’s background in the art of theatre, knowledge of theatre history, theory, life experience, theatre-going experience, education, gender, age etc. When watching the work, we try and figure out the intention of the playwright and director (putting ourselves in their shoes, but at a remove) and then assessing if it worked or not in terms of the play.

The opinion is based on sound background in the art of theatre and how to make an assessment about the work based on that background. And a critical assessment of the work is imperative in a review—I don’t mean the opinion has to be negative; I mean the work has to be assessed with rigor to come to an evaluation of the work.

We listen to the playwright tell their story from their point of view, their background etc., but we  hear the story from our point of view, how it references our background, no matter how different, how we apply their story to our experiences. That’s how so many different stories bridge the gap of our differences and join us in our similarities.

Mixed into this is education, life experience, ability to analyze and making comment about the positive aspects of the work followed by constructive suggestions on how to improve or make the work stronger, if necessary. These aren’t complaints, these should be sound constructive criticism. I see my role as telling the truth about the evaluation of the event in a fair-minded, respectful, entertaining way so that the quality, flavour, story, artistry and the many other elements of a show are conveyed to the reader. A review without rigor helps nobody.

The theatre has survived and thrived for 2500 years because of the rigor from the creators and the commentators. To do less and expect less is an invitation to mediocrity.

Involved initially is the story: what is the play about? This does not mean a whole repetition of the play’s events. It’s more a precis, first to get the reader to continue reading the review, but without giving any surprises away. Ideally the review should be the impetus to get the reader to buy a ticket to see the show for themselves, if they haven’t already seen it.

The review states where the play is in the context of the playwright’s work? How does the work reflect the world of the play and the world we live in? What’s the point of the play? Was it worth doing? All these assessments take time, rigor, education (in my case at least), frequent theatre going, and love of the form, endless love, even when disappointed and huge celebration when it’s terrific.

A review is a record of the theatrical event citing all the details of the play, performance and creative aspects of it. A heart emoji or the word “Awesome” on a tweet just doesn’t cover the attention a work of theatre deserves. People worked hard in creating the work. It deserves diligence and fairmindedness in the assessment. It’s possible to nurture the creators and still be constructively praising and critical.

Who is the review for?

It’s for the audience.

The audience—seemingly the most maligned, disparaged, disrespected, insulted, forgotten group in the theatre these days. Someone has to speak for them. For me, that’s the critic. As an example, the audience shows up ready to be attentive to the work and often an artist comes into the audience’s safe space without asking consent. Consent applies to the audience as much as it does to individuals in other instances.   

The review is not to explain the theory and analysis to the playwright, director or any of the creatives, of their story, ritual, ceremony, celebration, culture, ethnicity or any other thing that get confused in the review. It’s for the audience. That’s where the critic/reviewer is sitting, ‘imbedded’ if you will. And for me, sitting in the audience is the only place the critic should be imbedded. (If the critic is observing from anywhere else and close to the creative process of the playmakers for example, then it’s more like “in-bedded” or even “in-breded”). The critic conveys what it was/is like to be in the audience observing the play; to explain the meaning/point of the play from their point of view; who’s in it and how successful everybody was in their respective parts.

Understood, is that the review should serve the artform. Or at least should be understood, since so many seem to forget that.  

How to prepare.

Ideally the critic has the education of theatre history as background. I try and read the text of the play if it’s available. I research the playwright, director, history of the play, context, actors, and the theatre it’s in.

I’m finding that some companies want to ‘educate’ the critic by having us go to a lecture on the background of the play; the context of its creation; the story behind the creation; the culture of the playwright. This is very well intentioned and totally inappropriate, and a conflict of interest, to say the least.  In these instances, one is being told the intention of the creators instead of discovering them, without influence, on one’s own, by watching the play. If the play can’t convey all that was intended by the creators, then they have failed. If I can help it, I don’t go to talk-backs for the same reason (unless trapped in the row and the talk-back happens immediately after the show without letting people leave). The audience might want to know the creators/playwright’s/actors’ intention, but for the critic, that is the job of the play. And if I can’t figure out the intension of the playwright by watching the play, I should say so.

Advice from theatre makers:

When I was a student I interviewed actors/theatre makers etc. on their opinions of critics and criticism. It was a great education. Here are the questions and answers of Sada Thompson, theatre/tv actress, doing a show on tour at the Royal Alexandra Theatre in the 1970s. It still stands up after all these years.

  1. Do you read reviews?

“I do not read reviews when they first come out. Usually after the show closes. Tho I did read a good many on the road. I’m inclined to believe descriptions of what you do, how you look etc. make most actors self-conscious”.

  • Do you have a favourite critic?

“I have no favorite (She was American) contemporary critics—since I don’t know the bulk of any critic’s work—who is writing today. I love to read criticism of the past—Hazlitt, Shaw, Beerbohm, Stark Young, Agate, Henry James.”

  • What’s the critic’s purpose?

“The critic’s purpose generally is to encourage or discourage people about seeing a play or performance or both. But there are critics who not only discuss immediate impressions—but have a sense of where creative work stands in its own time and in relation to the past and to the future. Who know something about all the arts and can appreciate and discuss how they are used in theatre.”

  • What’s the critic’s responsibility?

“The responsibility of the critic is to tell the truth, to give the work they judge their full attention, to try to be fair as far and they are able, to ignore fashion. To have a love of the theatre and some vision about its possibilities. To find the art in themselves and not themselves in the art.”

  • Final words of advice.

Educate yourself. Read about and see as much theatre as you can. And if you get jaded by it all, quit.”

Sound advice to this day.

Happy World Theatre Day.

Lynn

NOTE: Respectful comments are accepted on this site as long as they are accompanied by a verifiable name and a verifiable e-mail address. Posts that are slanderous, libelous or personally derogatory will not be approved.

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Review: CLUE

by Lynn on March 25, 2024

in The Passionate Playgoer

Live and in person at the Grand Theatre, London, Ont. A co-production with the Royal Manitoba Theatre Centre. Playing until March 31, 2024.

www.grandtheatre.com

Based on the screenplay by Jonathan Lynn

Written by Sandy Rustin

Additional material by Hunter Foster and Eric Price

Based on the Hasbro Board Game Clue

Original music by Michael Holland

Directed by Dennis Garnhum

Set and costumes by Brian Perchaluk

Lighting by Kevin Lamotte

Cast: Sharon Bajer

Petrina Bromley

Rosie Callaghan

Kamal Chioua

Beau Dixon

Alex Furber

Jesse Gervais

Toby Hughes

Reena Jolly

Tracy Penner

Derek Scott

Rosalie Tremblay

It’s a dark and stormy night in 1954, in Boddy Manor not too far from Washington, D.C.

Wadsworth (Jesse Gervais) the butler welcomes six strangers to the house: Mrs. Peacock, Mrs. White, Colonel Mustard, Mr. Green, Miss Scarlet and Professor Plum. They are all being blackmailed and the person who invited them knows a dirty secret about each of them. Some appear to know some others or the staff of the manor. That too is a mystery. And then people begin to be murdered, in various ways, and in various rooms of the house.

Ah the house. Brian Perchaluk has designed a multi-roomed two story house that is so huge that it must fit on a revolve and turned in order to see the many and various rooms. There are secret nooks and crannies in the walls, the corners, the ceilings and elsewhere to hide the dastardly murderer.

Director Dennis Garnhum has a dandy bit of business at the beginning so that the audience can get the full measure of the house. Wadsworth, the deep voiced, smooth butler, played with elegant haughtiness by Jesse Gervais slowly leads the assembled guests from one room to the next, opening doors to each room, while the revolve turns slowly. No one speaks which would pull focus from the trick of the turning house to reveal it’s size. When the rooms have been revealed, then the talking begins.

They all have something to hide and do their best to hide it. Mrs. Peacock is flighty and ditsy as played by Sharon Bajer. Mrs. White is condescending as played by Petrina Bromley. Colonel Mustard is strapping but not too swift as played by Beau Dixon. Mr. Green is played by Toby Hughes as lively in an effort to cover up something he wants to hide. Miss Scarlet is strikingly sophisticated as played by Reena Jolly, and Professor Plum is played with understated composure and confidence by Derek Scott. Jesse Gervais as Wadsworth deserves special mention for a scene of extended milking that to say more would give away a surprise.

The clues come fast and furious.  The people are murdered at a startling rate. The house revolves. The delivery is deliberately declarative suggesting urgency or just an impish way of sending it up but still being serious. It’s funny and really well done.

 A co-production with the Grand Theatre and the Royal Manitoba Theatre Centre.

Plays until March 31, 2024

Running time: 90 minutes.

www.grandtheatre.com

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Jordan Baker: Photo by John Lauener

Live and in person at Factory Theatre, Mainspace, Toronto, Ont. Crow’s Theatre Presents the Goodman Theatre, Center Theatre Group, Vineyard Theatre Production: Plays until April 14, 2024.

NOTE: This is Crow’s presentation of the Broadway production, adapted for Toronto, based on the original design, completely built and installed by Crow’s Theatre.

www.factorytheatre.ca

Written by Lucas Hnath

Adapted from interviews with Dana Higginbotham

Conducted by Steve Cosson

Directed by Les Waters

Sound by Mikhail Fiksel

Set by Andrew Boyce

Costume by Janice Pytel

Lighting and Supertitle Design by Paul Toben

Illusion designer, Steve Cuiffo

Cast: Jordan Baker

Astonishing.

Dana H follows the true story of Dana Higginbotham, a chaplain in a psychiatric ward who was abducted by one of her patients and held captive for five months in a series of motel rooms in Florida almost 30 years ago.

Over a series of recorded interviews with Dana Higginbotham conducted by Steve Cosson (a theatre director and writer), we learn that Dana Higginbotham, at various times in her practice, gave comfort to the dying in hospice care, also tended to their families, and worked in a psychiatric ward. She met Jim (we only know him by this name) when he was released from prison and didn’t have any place to stay so Dana Higginbotham and her then husband took him into their home over that Christmas. We learn he was a member of The Aryan Brotherhood which gives us an idea about Jim. Dana knew deep down that taking him in was not a wise thing, but still she did it because Jim was in need of shelter.

It was obvious he was not stable but Higginbotham knew how to deal with fragile-minded people, until he kidnapped her. It wasn’t to get money. There was no ransom. Jim was violent towards Dana H (as she is known in the play) at times, threatening with an attempt at kindness. He told her that many people were out there watching for him, so he was protecting her. When they were in public he usually had a concealed knife to her neck.

A few times they came to the attention of the police and Jim was charming there, managing to convince them that he was protecting the fragile-minded Dana. The police and Jim joked about it. Dana felt abandoned and isolated as a result. She could not trust the police. Nor did she really try and escape. In a way her relationship with Jim was a variation of the Stockholm Syndrome where a psychological bond forms between the hostage and the kidnapper.

You get the measure of Dana’s strength and resolve when she gives some biographical information about herself. She says that her mother was hateful. Her mother told Dana that she was evil from the age of three. How does one deal with that psychological abuse?

Playwright Lucas Hnath (Red Speedo, Hilary and Clinton, A Doll’s House, Part 2) is Dana Higginbotham’s son. He took the various transcripts of the interviews with Steve Cosson, and condensed them into the text of Dana H.

Here is the fascinating theatricality of it: it is both verbatim theatre, in which the actress (I’m using this word for clarity) playing Dana H uses the exact words, including the repetitions, coughs and little sighs of the recorded interview, and she is lip-synching to the actual voice of Dana Higginbotham on the recorded interview.    

Jordan Baker is the actress in this production. The set is of every cheap motel room anywhere. There is a comfortable chair center stage. When the production is about to begin Jordan Baker enters wearing black pants, a loose top, a long, red sweater-coat unbuttoned and stylish shoes. She sits in the chair. She is accompanied by a stage hand who hands her a microphone pack and earbuds. She puts the buds in her ears and the pack under the sweater and when she is settled, he leaves. She gives a nod to the stage manager that she is ready and the recording begins.

The voice we hear of Dana Higginbotham is clear, the diction is crisp, and the delivery is measured. Jordan Baker lip-synchs with exquisite precision. This is a performance in every way except vocally. She ‘mouths’ the words with facial expressions to suggest thought, consideration, reaction, and emotion. The laughs come naturally. Occasionally we hear the delicate clink of Dana H’s bracelets. In those instances, Jordan Baker adjusts the bracelets at the precise moment of the sound of the clinking. It’s a stunning achievement. A pinging sound separates segments of the recording, perhaps to alert the actress playing Dana H.

Initially one is struck by the precision of the melding of voice and the lip-synching of the mouthing and the emoting suggesting she is actually speaking. Then after a while the artifice disappears and you believe that that is Dana H up there, actually talking.

At one point the room is empty (was Dana H moved? We can imagine). A woman from stage management in a house-keeping uniform, enters the room with sheets etc. to clean the room. She takes off the bedspread, the white top sheet and then the bottom sheet. There is a large blotch of blood on the bottom sheet. The woman from house-keeping doesn’t flinch at the sight—but the audience would—and continues as if a bloody sheet is the norm for such a motel. It’s a stunning bit of ‘direction’ not to react. In a way it further isolates Dana H so that even with bloody sheets, no one would notice and alert the police.

Les Waters has directed this, as he did the Broadway production. The meticulous care of the various reactions, physicality, facial expressions, when to cross one’s legs or not, was handled with such attention it made this performance and production breathe with pulsing life.

Stunning.

Crow’s Theatre Presents the Goodman Theatre, Center Theatre Group, Vineyard Theatre Production.

Plays until April 14.

Running time: 75 minutes (no intermission)

www.factorytheatre.ca

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Live and in person at Theatre Orangeville, in Orangeville, Ont. Playing until March 24, 2024.

www.theatreorangeville.ca

Written by Krista De Silva

Directed by David Nairn

Set designed by Beckie Morris

Lighting designed by Jeff Johnston Collins

Costumes designed by Alex Amini

Cast: Mark Crawford

Jane Spence

Daniela Vlaskalic

This is a world premiere of a what is billed as a ‘romantic comedy’, but that isn’t the half of it. It’s about hope, love, grieving, making your bed properly and getting out of your pajamas to face the world.

Madeline Holland (Daniela Vlaskalic) is still grieving three years after the death of her novelist husband, Rhys.

Her tough-talking sister-in-law Tammy (Jane Spence) does her best to rouse Madeine out of her lethargy without much success. Then Noah Boyd (Mark Crawford), a ghostwriter hired to complete Rhys’s unfinished novel, arrives from New York and things change.

Rhys wrote a successful series of fantasy novels and one of his fans was Noah, himself a novelist, albeit there has only been one novel. Rhys only left squiggled notes regarding his unfinished novel. Noah’s job is to first be able to read the notes and then put them together to sort out the novel. Madeline is not helpful at first, she’s too emotional in being reminded that Rhys isn’t there. But then things change, as they do, when attractive people are put in close proximity.

Noah is almost reverential when shown to Rhys’ office. Then becomes frustrated when Rhys’ writing seems to be more like hieroglyphs than writing. He is further frustrated when Madeline proves initially to be unhelpful.  

Beckie Morris has designed an efficient and homey kitchen/living-room. There is a couch where Madeline sleeps, or rather in which she falls asleep after a drink or two.  Just off that is Rhys’ properly messy office with a swivel chair, a desk and lots and lots of post-it-notes on a bulletin board, and the requisite number of piles of papers, the order and contents of which only the late Rhys would know about.

Alex Amini’s costumes are comfortable/casual for the three characters who dress for comfort and not to give an impression of anything other than who they are.

Playwright Kristen Da Silva has a lovely light touch with her dialogue and situations. She has a keen sense of comedy. Just the physicality of Madeline still being under the covers, fully dressed on the couch the next morning, is funny in itself. As played by Daniela Vlaskalic, Madeleine is groggy, annoyed at being disturbed by Tammy first thing in the morning, but is ready to defend herself.  

Tammy the sister-in-law is a devotee of motorcycles and rides one with lots of noise as she approaches Madeline’s house. Tammy owns a garage and knows her way around vehicles.  She is matter of fact in her language and outlook and as played by Jane Spence we get the sense of a woman who cares about her sister-in-law but will not let her off the hook in lounging all day. Both Daniela Vlaskalic and Jane Spence toss barbs at each other with ease and finesse so we get the measure of their linguistic abilities and their love and care for each other.

Mark Crawford as Noah brings his own expertise with humour. Initially Madeline believes that she is expecting a person who is renting a cottage on the property. She also knows that a writer is coming from New York. She mistakes this shy man who appears at the door for the renter and not the writer, until she learns that this man is both. The confusion in the identity is handled beautifully by the three accomplished actors. As the relationship between Noah and Madeline changes from frosty to warmer, Da Silva has a poignant bit of business regarding a stuck door and why Madeline is upset when Noah fixes it. This mixes the humour with the still credible mourning.

David Nairn directs the play with his own touches of humour and gentle pacing. The play zips along with these characters maneuvering their way around each other, getting the measure of each other.

By the Light of a Story is sweet, funny and poignant. Just right for the coming of spring/warmer weather/or whatever is thrown our way.

Theatre Orangeville Presents:

Runs until March 24, 2024

Running Time: 90 minutes.

www.theatreorangeville.ca

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Live and in person at the AKI Studio, Toronto, Ont. Produced by Good Old Neon playing until March 17, 2024.

www.goodoldneon.ca

Written by Alexander Offord

Directed by Nicole Wilson

Set by Kris Van Soelen & Nicole Wilson

Lighting by Connor Price-Kelleher

Sound by Alexander Offord

Cast: Allan Cooke

Hayden Finkelshtain

Nicole Wilson

The play Dead Elephants by Alexander Offord and produced by the always inventive Good Old Neon company, uses the metaphor of some notable elephants in history to reference grief, mourning, the death of a child, cruelty to animals, greed and our relationships to animals.

The central story is the silent 1903 film, Electrocuting an Elephant, in which Topsy the elephant was electrocuted because it crushed her circus handler. The circus owner decided to film the event and charge people to watch the electrocution.

There was much discussion between the circus owner and the humane electrician brought in to do the job—how many volts were needed; how long would it take to do the job?

There is the story of Jumbo the elephant that escaped from a circus in St. Thomas, Ont. and was hit by a train when the elephant stood on the tracks, unmoving.

At the heart of the play is a couple (Hayden Finkelshtain and Nicole Wilson) going through deep grief at the death of their infant daughter. It was caused by a home accident that haunts the wife more than the husband. He is distraught at his wife’s emotional withdrawal. She is crushed by grief. They both seek professional help separately, but communication seems impossible for them.

The metaphor of the deaths of the elephants noted in the play stand in for the death of the innocent infant. It’s a bold, if unwieldy literary device here. Playwright Alexander Offord even uses language of separation to describe how Topsy was separated as an ‘infant’ from its mother in Sri Lanka to be taken across the ocean to a circus. It conjures a moving image.

I have always found Nicole Wilson’s direction vivid and impressive—Frankenstein(esque) is a case in point. And while I found her directorial ideas in Dead Elephants also bold, I thought the staging and many of the set pieces unwieldy, where more economy was needed.

Kris Van Soelen and Nicole Wilson designed huge moveable structures supporting a desk and chair for the circus owner to do business; another large structure with bales of hay; others that represented a train. The AKI Studio is large and it looked unwieldy to push and maneuver these structures around the set.

A ‘pigeon’ (Allan Cooke) stares us down as we enter the studio—he wears a helmet with a beak, eyes on the sides, an intriguing costume, and he coos and makes pigeon noises in appropriate places. The ‘pigeon’ also moves set pieces on and off and tends to props. We learn late in the play the significance of the pigeon to the story.

Hayden Finkelshtain plays many parts from an electrician to a vaudevillian in a pink sequined jacket to the grieving father. Nicole Wilson also plays the cigar smoking, arrogant circus owner, a vaudevillian in a pink sequined jacket that partners the other vaudevillian and the emotionally distraught wife and grieving mother.

The most effective scenes are between Hayden Finkelshtain and Nicole Wilson as the grieving parents. It’s raw, angry, angst-ridden and heartbreaking. The production is huge in implication, metaphor and all manner of indications of larger issues. I just don’t know why so much effort seems to have been taken when more clarity and less ‘stuff’ is in order. And while Alexander Offord’s script also has huge implications, I got the feeling that it was overwritten with repetition. Again, less is best.

Experimentation in the theatre is great when trying to create a meaningful play. I also think that clarity is a good thing too. I thought Dead Elephants suffered from too much metaphor and not enough clarity.

Good Old Neon presents:

Plays until March 17, 2024.

Running time: 2 hours, 30 minutes (1 intermission)

www.goodoldneon.ca

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Live and in person at the CAA Theatre, Toronto, Ont. David Mirvish presents the Neptune Theatre production. Plays until April 6, 2024.

www.mirvish.com

Written by Tom Stoppard

Directed by Jeremy Webb

Set by Andrew Cull

Costumes by Kaelen MacDonald

Lighting by Leigh Ann Vardy

Sound design and composition, Deanna H. Choi

Cast: Mallory Amirault

Helen Belay

Michael Blake

Walter Borden

Billy Boyd

Drew Douris-O-Hara

Raquel Duffy

Pasha Ebrahimi

Jonathan Ellul

Santiago Guzman

Dominic Monoghan

Jacob Sampson

Erin Tancock

A play about identity, fitting in, being aware, beautifully acted and directed. Tom Stoppard at his imaginative, creative, impish best, (until he topped himself with the next play).

The Story. In Shakespeare’s Hamlet Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are two minor characters who are there for comic relief mainly because no one can tell them apart. They aren’t twins. They are merely indistinguishable as personalities. They are there also to act as a means of accompanying Hamlet to English on behalf of Claudius, to be presented to the British court. They bear a letter for the court which then requests that Hamlet be killed. When Hamlet finds out he secretly takes the letter and replaces it with his own ordering the deaths of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern instead.

In Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead by Tom Stoppard, the mistaken identity is played up even further, with Stoppard having both Rosencrantz and Guildenstern questioning their own identity, in which they are not sure which of them is which. This being Stoppard there are liberal sprinklings of philosophy, history, language, linguistics, psychology, musings on chance, coincidence, lashings of Waiting for Godot and a backdrop of Shakespeare’s Hamlet for context.

The Production. At the beginning of the production, Rosencrantz (Dominic Monaghan) and Guildenstern (Billy Boyd) are playing a game of flipping a coin and seeing how many “heads” Rosencrantz can score and how many” tails” Guildenstern can score. The person who calls and gets ‘heads’ keeps the coin. So far Rosencrantz has about 92 ‘heads’ (and coins in his pouch) and Guildenstern has none. This gives Guildenstern the occasion to muse on chance, coincidence philosophy and all manner of minutiae as he waits to score ‘tails’.

As Guildenstern, Billy Boyd never seems surprised or frustrated by the constant revelation that it’s ‘heads.’ Rather, he is patient, composed and willing to flip again. At the same time, Rosencrantz, an equally calm, but not as philosophical as his partner, just keeps calling ‘heads’, and putting the coin in his pouch. As played by Dominic Monoghan Rosencrantz is not emotionally involved. It seems an inevitability he would have 92 ‘heads.’

As both Rosencrantz and Guildenstern play the game, muse, philosophize and flip the coins, I got the sense of Beckett’s Waiting for Godot Vladimir and Estragon musing, philosophizing and talking to pass the time as they waited for Godot to arrive. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern talk to pass the time as they wait for a ‘tails.’

Director, Jeremy Webb has created a bracing, lively, nuanced production in which the dense philosophical questions float in the air and don’t bog down the proceedings. Kaelen MacDonald has designed Rosencrantz and Guildenstern’s costumes with wit. Rosencrantz has a full ruff around his neck and wears a blue suit/costume with a dark green vest and Guildenstern wears a ruff that is open at the neck and a dark green suit/costume that is a bit different from his partner,  with a dark blue vest. Clever.

Andrew Cull’s set of two large moveable bleachers keeps the swirl of activity going. At times Rosencrantz and Guildenstern sit on the bleachers while the rest of the characters move them around. They are of the action but apart from it.

Both Dominic Monoghan as Rosencrantz and Billy Boyd as a Guildenstern are wonderful. They bounce the lively dialogue off each other like ping-pong champs. Much has been made of their great friendship off stage as a reason for their wonderful rapport. I think it’s more fundamental than that—they are fine actors. Monoghan illuminate an innocence of Rosencrantz. He is in a heady world and has no clue about it. He looks around as if he is lost, but sweet about it. Guildenstern is the philosopher and Billy Boyd plays him with care and attention to the thoughts as the dialogue winds and winds around the idea of it always being heads with nary a tails in sight. Both characters engage with innocent curiosity with the world-weary players, headed by a confident Michael Blake as The Player. The players play rings around the two innocents. The humour in Stoppard’ script dances, it’s in such good hands.  

Comment. This production of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead is lively, funny, deeply thought and worth a visit to the CAA to see it.

David Mirvish presents the Neptune Theatre’s Production:

Plays until April 6, 2024.

Running Time: 2 hours, 50 minutes (2 intermissions)

www.mirvish.com

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Heads up for the week of March 11, 2024

Plays until March 16, 2024.

La Bête

By David Hirson

Plays at Harbourfront Centre.

A tour de force performance by Mike Nadajewski as La Bête a boor of a man with a joyousness that is eye-popping.

Plays until March 17

Dead Elephants

Written by Alexander Offord.

Plays at the AKI Studio, Native Earth Performing Arts Company

Paris, 1870: a pair of French soldiers plot to kill and eat the elephants in the city zoo. St. Thomas, 1885: P.T. Barnum’s famous elephant Jumbo is struck by a train. Coney Island, 1903: an elephant is publicly electrocuted in what becomes the earliest recorded footage of the moment of death. In Dead Elephants, these three stories are braided around the contemporary struggle of a young couple grieving the loss of their infant child. Three performers play twelve  characters across four timelines.

www.nativeearth.ca

March 12-April 7, 2024.

Dana H

From Crow’s Theatre, but playing at the Factory Theatre.

Cutting-edge drama follows the harrowing true story of Dana Higginbotham, a chaplain in a psychiatric ward, who was abducted by one of the patients and held captive in a series of Florida motel rooms for five months.

www.factorytheatre.ca

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Live and in person at the Tarragon Theatre, co-presented by Tarragon Theatre and lemonTree creations, Toronto, Ont. Plays until March 24, 2024.

www.tarragontheatre.com

Written by Donna-Michelle St. Bernard

Co-directed by Yvette Nolan and Cole Alvis

Set by César El Hayeck

Costumes by Des’ree Gray

Lighting by Michelle Ramsay

Sound design and composer, Janice Jo Lee

Cast:

Give It Up:

Uche Ama

Tsholo Khalema

Megan Legesse

The Smell of Horses:

Christopher Bautista

Indrit Kasapi

Tsholo Khalema

Note: Playwright Donna-Michelle St. Bernard has set herself a herculean task: to write a play set in each of the 54 countries of Africa. The double-bill of: Give It Up and The Smell of Horses are but two of her 54ology.

In these two plays we get a glimpse into the world of Angolans and Guineans, from the point of view of the captives and the captors; those tortured and those doing the torturing. In Give It Up two women share a small cell in an outpost that does not like protesters.  Yol (Uche Ama) is the older and more knowing of the two. Ada (Megan Legesse) is younger, almost too naïve to be afraid. They both belong to a women-protest group in which they refer to themselves as  “Sarah,” perhaps to protect themselves from divulging their real names.  They had to deliver a message to a third woman, to warn her of the approaching military. The message was not delivered.Yol frets about the third woman’s safety.

A skittish guard, Saad (Tsholo Khalema) comes regularly to the cell to unlock the door and take Yol away. When she returns she is battered, bruised and limping. At one point Yol is so hurt she can’t walk properly so Saad carries her on his back. Tsholo Khalema as Saad, is a contradiction: a guard in a prison, wary of these women, but secretly compassionate.

We don’t know who is torturing Yol. We don’t hear screams or see it happen. This is an interesting theatrical decision: not to show the actual torture, but to see the escalating physical damage to Yol after she returns to the cell.

In The Smell of Horses we see the situation from the point of view of the soldiers on duty at the outpost: Adam (Christopher Bautista), Beech (Indrit Kasapi) and Saad (Tsholo Khalema). Saad is the low man in ranking there; Beech is above him and Adam is above Beech. The use and abuse of power is obvious in the relationships of the three soldiers with Adam exerting his authority over Beech and Beech sneering at Adam behind his back. As Adam, Christopher Bautista is quietly imposing and formidable. Indrit Kasapi as Beech uses charm to get along with Adam and a bit more attitude towards Saad to keep him humble and on his toes. Each man has secrets about the others and bides their time before they are revealed.  

Writer Donna-Michelle St. Bernard has created in Yol and Ada two women who cope with their situations in different ways. They are fearless in different ways too. St. Bernard is deliberately vague on the details of the situation—there are extensive historic notes in addition to the programme for further information.

The same can be said of the three soldiers in The Smell of Horses—with Saad a cross over to both plays since he interacts with the women prisoners and his superior officers. They are each interesting in how they deal with the isolation and their jobs guarding the outpost.

The writing seems unnecessarily repetitive, especially in Give it Up. I wonder if this is deliberate, to give us a sense of the sameness of the days for those women, but always wondering when the jail door will open and more torture will happen. Both plays could use judicious cutting and tightening to strengthen the message.

Since The Smell of Horses ‘mirrors’ the activity in Give it Up then more attention should be paid to both of them. At one point in Give It Up Ada has occasion to slink along an underground tunnel. She does it at a careful pace. But in The Smell of Horses we see the three soldiers above the tunnel talking with Ada slinking along the tunnel below. Only she is going at a glacial speed to accommodate the extended speeches of the soldiers above her in the office. That scene in particular and both plays in general should be revisited to edit in the flabby moments.

César El Hayeck has designed an intruiguing set of the small cell and the murky back halls of the outpost with two huge slabs that are pushed and pulled to change their position. I have no idea what those slabs are for. Michelle Ramsay’s lighting is evocative of the murky world of prison that is means to debilitate the prisoners. The costumes by Des’ree Gray is provocative as well, with Janice Jo Lee’s sound also adding to the forbidding aspect of the prison.

As always, Donna-Michelle St. Bernard ‘s dialogue is bristling with feeling, but tightening is in order to strengthen both plays.   

A Tarragon Theatre and lemonTree Creation presents:

Plays until March 24, 2024

Running time: 2 hours 55 minutes. (1 intermission)

www.tarragontheatre.com

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Live and in person at the Yonge Centre for the Performing Arts, a Soulpepper and Obsidian Theatre Co-production. Plays until March 24, 2024.

www.soulpepper.ca

Written by Inua Ellams

After Chekhov

Directed by Mumbi Tindyebwa Otu

Set by Joanna Yu

Costume by Ming Wong

Lighting by Andre du Toit

Sound design and composition by John Gzowski

Vocal music coach and arrangement, additional composition, Adekunle Olorundare (Kunle)

Movement director, Esie Mensah

Cast: Akosua Amo-Adem

Virgilia Griffith

Daren A. Herbert

Sterling Jarvis

JD Leslie

Tawiah M’Carthy

Ngabo Nabea

Oyin Oladejo

Makambe K Simamba

Odena Stephens-Thompson

Amaka Umeh

Matthew G. Brown

A powerful re-imagining of Chekhov’s play set around the Biafra Civil War with familial complications driving the action. A terrific production of a bristling play.

The Story. Playwright Inua Ellams took Chekhov’s play, Three Sistersand reshaped it for his own purposes, but still keeping the form of the original.

In Chekhov’s play three sisters reminisce and lament moving from Moscow with their commander-soldier father to a small outpost. They have been there for 11 years. The father has since died and while they are celebrating the birthday of the youngest sister and guests come to wish her happy birthday, the sisters long to go back to Moscow.

As the press information states for the Inua Ellams’s version of Three Sisters:

“A year has passed since their father died but the three sisters – Lolo, Nne Chukwu and Udo – are still grappling with his loss.

 What’s more, they’re stuck in a small village in Owerri, Nigeria and are longing to return to the cosmopolitan city of their birth, Lagos.

What they don’t know is that the Biafran Civil War is about to erupt and change their lives and their country.

Chekhov’s classic play is reimagined to explore the devastation of colonialism and a fight for emancipation through the lens of a family and love.”  

The Production and comment. Inua Ellams has set the play in 1967 Nigeria beginning three months before the Biafran Civil War when the Igbo people wanted to break away from Nigeria and form their own territory called Biafra. Nigeria was predominantly Yoruba speaking and also a separate ethnicity from Igbo. Nigeria didn’t want the separation and so civil war resulted with the Nigerian forces surrounding Biafra and starving them and killing them until they crushed them.

So while the structure of Ellams’ play follows that of Chekhov in the relationships etc. Ellams has made the Biafran War and the politics that brought it about, the centre of everybody’s concern. And he’s made Lolo (Akosua Amo-Adem) the voice of reason when it comes to clearly elucidating the powerful effect of the British over Nigeria.

Nigeria won independence from the British in 1960. But the perceptive and politically astute Lolo knows that the British still controlled Nigeria from afar, and subtly.  The country was financially beholding to Britain. I certainly appreciated Ellam’s new take while still maintaining the characters and their relationships.

To clarify and illuminate those relationships in Inua Ellams’ version we begin with the three sisters.

Udo (a lively Makembe K. Simamba), the youngest sister is pursued by two young men, one is a hot-headed soldier and the other is a thoughtful man. She doesn’t love either, but feels she can love the thoughtful man.  This enrages the hot-headed soldier with serious results.

Nne Chukwu, (Virgilia Griffith) the middle sister is frustrated because she is married to a dull man but charmed by the married commanding officer of the troop that is in the town.

And Lolo (Akosua Amo-Adem), the eldest daughter is a school teacher, dedicated to teaching but frustrated by the out of date and inaccurate publications she has to use. Lolo is the most politically astute.

The sisters have a brother Dimgba (Tony Ofori) who was a promising scholar but lost his way. He is in love with Abosede (Oyin Oladejo), an awkward young woman who is looked down on by the sisters. Abosede is Yaruban which also makes her feel out of place.

These characters and their relationships, echo those in Chekhov only they have Russian names. There are servants and other hangers on, also echoed in Chekhov. Three Sistersis based on Chekhov but this Three Sisters is definitely Inua Ellams’ creation.

 Inua Ellams’ play works beautifully in this political sense.  History is full of animosity in secession. It’s about the effect of colonial power.  The animosity of one ethnicity/language over another again is something we know about in our own world. So while Inua Ellams is making a specific reference to Nigeria, we bring out own perspective to the play to broaden it to mean whatever situation and language we want to focus on. Inua Ellams’ dialogue is bracing, gripping and at times even poetic (Ellams is also a poet along with being a playwright).

The argument of Lolo’s in explaining the diabolical hold the British had over Nigeria, is chilling. The impassioned way that actor Akosua Amo-Adem as Lolo gives the speech is compelling. Usually, Lolo is the quiet voice of reason, thanks to Akosua Amo-Adem’s understated, calm playing of her. She is watchful and knowing.

The production is terrific in almost every single way. The three sisters are impressive, starting with Akosua Amo-Adem as Lolo, as I already said. Virgilia Griffith plays Nne Chukwu, the middle sister unhappily married to a dull, but good man. She is bored, frustrated and unhappy until she meets Ikemba, the commanding officer of the garrison played by Daren A. Herbert who is always compelling in whoever he plays. Then Nne Chukwu seems to live in his presence, she is alive, curious and even flirty.

The youngest sister is Udo played with effervescence and a youthfulness by Makame K. Simamba. Her emotions are on the surface. She loathes the volatile soldier Igwe (Amaka Umeh), and feels sorry for the other suitor, Nmeri Ora (Ngabo Nabea).

The character of Abosede (Oyin Oladejo) is fascinating—she is the brother’s (Dimgba) girlfriend and then his wife. Initially she is awkward—her clothes clash with various patterns and don’t fit properly. She slumps so her posture is bad. But when she marries, she assumes a confidence bordering on entitlement. She has put herself as the head of the household, giving orders to the three sisters. And she uses that power to cement her place in that family. They make her feel awkward and left out, but she fights to claim her position. It’s a wonderful performance. The production is directed with a sure hand and a keen eye for detail by Mumbi Tindyebwa Otu. It’s a funny, emotional, gripping production with a powerhouse cast. There are such wonderful touches to the production, from ‘kissing the teeth’ to suggest contempt, to an over reaction when a sister hears something startling.

Joanna Yu’s set of the outside of the house in some scenes and the well appointed inside of the house, suggest that this is a place that welcomes visitors and company. It’s neatly kept. And generally I thought Ming Wong’s costumes spoke volumes about those sisters. Initially the three sisters dress in clothes closer to European styling than traditional Nigerian. That makes sense since they long for the days of Lagos with its cosmopolitan ways. Towards the end of the play the design of the material of the clothes seems to echo Nigeria but it still looks European. I thought a more decisiveness was in order here.

But I have a concern about Ming Wong’s costume designs regarding the character of Abosede—the brother’s wife. She first appears with clashing patterns of her clothes and perhaps the fit seems inappropriate.

As Abosede gets more confident her clothes get more and more flamboyant but not in a traditional Nigerian way, but in a European way. I think that’s a missed opportunity. Abosede is a proud Nigerian who flaunts her ethnicity to the sisters. Since her Yoruba people won the conflict I would have thought that her clothes would represent the winning side and in a way flaunt the success by dressing in traditional Nigerian clothes and designs. I thought it a missed opportunity to make a point. That’s my concern. Not earth shattering.

It’s still a terrific production. 

A Soulpepper & Obsidian Theatre Co-production:

Runs until March 24, 2024

www.soulpepper.ca

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Live and in person at the Harbourfront Centre Theatre, Toronto, Ont. Until March 16, 2024.

www.harbourfrontcentre.com

Written by David Hirson

Directed by Dylan Trowbridge

Set by Joe Pagnan

Costumes by Laura Delchiaro

Lighting by Jeff Pybus

Props by JB Nelles

Sound by James Smith

Cast: Katarina Fiallos

Amy Keating

Madelyn Kriese

Richard Lam

Cyrus Lane

Justan Myers

Mike Nadajewski

Amelia Sargisson

Courtenay Stevens

 A revival of the Talk Is Free 2023 production with a few cast changes, that is a deeper, richer but still wild production directed by Dylan Trowbridge with a towering performance by Mike Nadajewski. A cautionary tale of what happens when a rich patron interferes in a theatre company’s programming and casting; and questions what is more important, doing popular fare for easy entertainment or more serious fare, and why does it have to be either or?

The Story. It’s 1654. Languedoc, France. Princess Conti’s estate in Pezenas (changed from Prince Conti, in David Hirson’s text). Elomire is a courtly, erudite creator of theatre. He heads a theatre company that does weighty work. His patron is Princess Conti. For years she has allowed him to produce what he wanted. Then things changed.

Princess Conti saw Valere, a troubadour, a clown, performing in the public market place and was so enthralled by his performance and sway over the people who stopped to watch she decreed that Valere would join Elomire’s troupe.

Elomire is incensed. He loathes Valere as a show-off, a bombastic disgrace to theatre, a clown in the worst possible way and totally incapable of working in an ensemble. The Princess is insistent. How will it end?

The Production. Playwright David Hirson wrote La Bête about 33 years ago when he was in his 20s. It’s his first play and it’s huge and impressive. He wrote it in iambic pentameter rhyming couplets which is a wink to Molière, his acting troupe and his penchant for presenting satiric plays that poke fun at the aristocracy and hypocrisy.

One gets a sense of the wit and flavour of David Hirson’s dialogue when Elomire (Cyrus Lane) enters to vent at Bejart (Richard Lam) at the turn of events—that the Princess decrees that Valere must join the company. Elomire has a dinner party for the troupe and invites Valere (Mike Nadajewski) to meet them all. Elomire is aghast at the boorishness of Valere.  As Elomire, Cyrus Lane is elegant, courtly, erudite, furious and pointed in his distaste for Valere. ‘Cockatrice,’ ‘bombastic ninny,’ ‘dull hypocrite’ are some of the choice words he uses to describe Valere. Cyrus Lane plays Elomire with dignity but also boiling contempt. Bejart in turn is calmly played by Richard Lam, who tries to reason with his friend, and help him see the inevitability of the situation. Richard Lam plays Bejart with compassion and concern.

We finally see the focus of their ire. Valere (Mike Nadajewski) explodes onto the scene. It’s almost as if he expects applause for every movement. As beautifully tailored as Bejart and Elomire are in their beautiful costumes (bravo to Laura Delchiaro), Valere is the definition of a “slob”. His costume is tattered, torn, frayed, patched, flamboyant, and sloppy with one ‘sock’ up and one bunched around his ankle. His hair is a tangle of billowing black curls; his beard is scruffy but there is an impish upturn of his moustache. Eye-popping.

 What follows is a speech that goes on for about 35 breathtaking minutes. It’s a speech that riffs on the food, the hospitality, the host, the ‘admiration’ (not) of Valere for Elomire, performing, life, art, prayer, vinaigrette etc. It’s a speech of stream of consciousness of Valere holding court over the stunned and captive Bejart and Elomire. Nadajewski as Valere is impassioned, clear, crisp, athletic, jumping onto and off of furniture, daring, bold and breathtaking in its invention. One fluctuates between being mesmerized by Valere’s energy, bombast, pretention and giddy self-delight, and wanting to hose him down with cold water to shut him up.   In the course of the speech Valere proves, without a doubt, that Elomire is right. This fellow will not, could not, fit into an ensemble. David Hirson has written a wild speech of such imagination and humour that he has captured the very essence of this narcissistic, self-absorbed, enthusiastic imp of a man.

This does not mean that we all (including Elomire and Bejart) sit open-mouthed with their attention glued to Valere. Director Dylan Trowbridge is savvier than that. As Trowbridge stages Valere to tear around the stage being outrageous, we are also aware at the stillness and dignity of Elomire and Bejart as they carefully trade telling glances. We are constantly aware of all three characters because of Dylan Trowbridge’s smart direction. Dylan Trowbridge ably guides Nadajewski in the nuances, subtleties and breathless pacing of the speech as well as the whole performance of the play. There is wit, focus, fun poked and truths told in this production.

Valere is fearless to all but the Princess Conti, a commanding Amelia Sargisson. She mixes charm with royal prerogative.  She is the only one to get Valere to shut up. She is wily enough to test whether or not Valere will fit into the company or not by ordering Valere to do his one man play by including the others in the ensemble who will play all the other parts. This of course turns out to be little more than bit parts for them and another reason for Valere to let loose.  

Joe Pagnan establishes the ornate time of France in 1654 with a large rich rug on the floor, and some ornate furniture. A frame in gold wood hangs above the space at an angle. Laura Delchiaro’s beautifully fitted costumes establish that we are in an ostentatious period in France of ribbons, bows, and rich fabric. The Princess’ ornate gown is an example of such opulence.

David Hirson has presented a fascinating argument about theatre that after 33 years since he wrote the play, is still vibrant.  What kind of theatre should be done: the populist kind of theatre espoused by Valere, that reveres the mediocre and show-off or the esoteric, intellectual theatre of Elomire, that aims for loftier, intellectual heights. The Princess weighs the arguments of both sides and makes a decision as to the kind of theatre she will fund in future.

It’s interesting that to the Princess there is only one or the other kind of theatre to be funded, not both. It won’t escape many that a mix of both is ideal; the popular funds the less popular fare. I loved that David Hirson gets us to ponder that. He has placed the play in the 1600s but the same thorny issues about theatre still exist today.     

Comment. By bringing its terrific production of La Bête to Toronto, Talk is Free Theatre gives us a glimpse of the kind of theatre they do in Barrie, Ont. as a matter of course.

Talk is Free Theatre Presents:

Runs until March 16, 2024

Running Time: 2 hours 30 minutes. (1 intermission)

www.harbourfrontcentre.com

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