Lynn

Live and in person at the Factory Theatre, Studio, Toronto, until Dec. 10, 2023.

www.factorytheatre.ca

Written by Daniel MacIvor

Directed by Soheil Parsa

Set, props and lighting by Trevor Schwellnus

Sound by Thomas Ryder Payne

Wardrobe stylist, Allie Marshall

Cast: Karl Ang

Haunting, chilling, beautifully directed and a performance by Karl Ang that is astonishing.

The Story. The simple outline from the Factory Theatre website: “Monster peels back the psychological layers of 16 different characters to reveal the dark heart of individual experience. With a masterful blend of suspense, humor, and raw emotion, Monster invites you to confront your fears and embrace the complexities that make us human.” There are characters ground down by life, circumstance, parental cruelty and an overwhelming need for revenge. One scene is particularly brutal.

The Production. The production starts in darkness. An angry voice tells someone to shut up (adding an insulting epithet) as the movie is about to begin. Is he a monster? Over the course of the 75 minutes of the play we will meet an array of people who angry, insulting, condescending, abusive and behave badly in various ways. Does that make them monsters?

Trevor Schwellnus has designed a simple set of a bare stage with a bank of eight lights at the back of the stage. The lights go up and illuminate Karl Ang, a young man in a sweater and pants. He is personable, charming, curious and at this point, certainly not the angry man in the dark. Or is he?

Over the course of the play Ang will play all the characters, both men and women. With a subtle movement of one finger around the ear he becomes a sweet woman putting her hair around her ear to keep it off her face. The voice is light and lilting. He changes from a supportive partner to her irritated boyfriend who just wants to be left alone. Then the tone is sharp, the voice is deep and commanding. It’s an effort for the character to contain his irritation for this woman and this time. Names of the various characters wiz through the air: Al, Dave, Janine, Pam, “Boil Boy,” and much more.

Karl Ang gives an astonishing performance. There is nuance, subtlety, variation in body language, voice, expression and vigor.  He shifts from one character to another with ease and a clear sense of who each character is. It all seems effortless. Each character is full bodied.

Soheil Parsa directs Monster with exquisite invention, control, imagination and a ramped pace that keeps one breathless. He creates scenes that could be in the movies, watching horror, with lighting capturing the nuances in the performance. At times Trevor Schwellnus’ lighting makes Karl Ang look forbidding, he is surrounded by such shadows and bright light. You are convinced that here is a monster. In other softer light, Ang’s features are pleasant, calming, inviting. Between this gifted actor and his equally gifted director, we are kept unbalanced as to whom we will meet next. At one point the scope of the play expands out away from the 16 characters we will meet, to encompass an angry world. This is established by Thomas Ryder Payne’s chilling soundscape of bombs dropping somewhere not getting louder and closer, but present. In our fractured world, this adds another example of a “monster.”

Playwright Daniel MacIvor weaves compelling, intricate stories of the various characters and the experiences they endure. Sometimes the result is anger, sometimes revenge. Each story is carefully crafted with characters fully detailed and created. There are the women who love their angry partners, who stay the course, who calm them down and convince them that a life together is better than apart.

It’s like MacIvor is creating an intricate spider web and the audience is mesmerized watching as each delicate strand is created joining the various other strands. In a way the audience is drawn into the web until we aren’t sure where we are or to whose story we are listening. This isn’t a fault of the writing. It’s one of its many strengths—to keep the audience unsettled until the very end. And when we hear the conclusion of the final story, in a way a beginning, the result is jaw dropping.

Comment. Monster is a play written by a playwright at the top of his game, directed by a masterful director, guiding his equally gifted actor. Well worth a visit for people serious about theatre.

Factory Theatre Presents:

Opened: Nov. 22, 1923.

Closes: Dec. 10, 2023.

Running time: 75 minutes (no intermission)

www.factorytheatre.ca

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I’m interviewing Craig Pike (Craig’s Cookies, That Choir, That Theatre Company) as he readies his production of ANGELS IN AMERICA opening at Buddies next week. I’m interviewing him Sat. Nov. 25 at 9 am on Critics Circle CIUT.fm 89.5. he has a lot to say. Listen in.

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Live and in person at the CAA Ed Mirvish Theatre, Toronto, Ont. Presented by Mirvish Productions. Plays until Nov. 27, 2023.

www.mirvish.com

Written by Aaron Sorkin

Based on Harper Lee’s novel

Direct by Bartlett Sher

Original music by Adam Guettel

Scenic design by Miriam Buether

Costumes design by Ann Roth

Lighting design by Jennifer Tipton

Sound design by Scott Lehrer

Cast: Mary Badham

Ian Bedford

Anne-Marie Cusson

Christopher R. Ellis

Travis Johns

Steven Lee Johnson

Ted Koch

Mariah Lee

Justin Mark

Melanie Moore

Jeff Still

Richard Thomas

Yaegel T. Welch

Jacqueline Williams

Gregg Wood

A terrific dramatization by Aaron Sorkin of Harper Lee’s stunning novel given a respectable, if obvious, production. Richard Thomas gives a fine performance of the courtly, honourable Atticus Finch.

The Story. It’s based on the beautiful 1960 novel “To Kill A Mockingbird” by southern writer, Harper Lee. The story is narrated by a young tom-boy nicknamed Scout by her family and her brother named Jem. Their father is Atticus Finch, a fair-minded lawyer and a widower. They have a housekeeper named Calpurnia. One summer in 1935 their idyllic lives change when Atticus defends a black man named Tom Robinson, accused of raping and beating up a 19-year-old neighbour, Mayelle Ewell, who is white.

During the trial Scout, Jem and a new friend, Dill Harris, sneak into the courthouse to see Atticus defend the man. The children are given a rude awakening about how black people are perceived and treated by whites at that time. They see how fair-minded and serious Atticus is. Atticus proves that Tom Robinson didn’t commit the crime and points suspicion elsewhere. The person who is suspected threatens to get even with Atticus. He almost achieves his goal too.

There is also a mysterious neighbour named Boo Radley. The children have never seen him but often talk about him and wonder what he is like. In a sense Boo Radley is another example of how people treat those who they perceive as different in some way. Something happened in Mr. Radley’s life and he has almost never stepped foot out of his house, as far as anyone can tell. Mr. Radley comes to Scout and Jem’s rescue when they are threatened one night. They learn another lesson in tolerance and understanding by that experience.

The Production. Playwright, Aaron Sorkin has shifted the order of the details in the novel: the trial of Tom Robinson comes at the end of the book, in the play, the trial is front and center, including the part that Atticus Finch (Richard Thomas) had to be convinced to take the case. He didn’t think he was a good defense lawyer, but the judge in the case, Judge Taylor (a wonderfully laid back and honourable Jeff Still) convinced him in a bit of gross lack of ‘professionalism.’ Judge Taylor is as decent as Atticus and knew that Tom Robinson needed a smart, good lawyer and made the move to ensure that Atticus took up the case.

Miriam Buether has designed an efficient set of moving parts that move on to be Atticus Finch’s house, the court room and the local jail, among others. Ann Roth has designed functional clothes dark clothes for the majority of the characters with a light tanned coloured suit for Atticus, so that he stands out.   

Bartlett Sher had staged a lot of activity at the beginning of the production. Scout (Melanie Moore) enters with conviction and purpose to begin the story. Melanie Moore as Scout is a bit forced in trying to convey she’s playing a young girl. She is followed by Jem Finch (Justin Mark) Scout’s older brother by three years. Justin Mark as Jem has that older-brother-seriousness when dealing with his young sister. Then their young friend Dill Harris (Steven Lee Johnson) arrives who is between Scout and Jem in age, enters to add other aspects of the story. Steven Lee Johnson as Dill has that lovely mix of precociousness and an eagerness to please his friends. I found Mr. Johnson the best of the three actors playing children. (Note: Truman Capote was a childhood friend of Harper Lee and is the model for Dill).  

Once the story is established set pieces are pushed on, chairs arranged, tables positioned. A lot of activity is going on. So, when Richard Thomas as Atticus Finch makes his anticipated entrance, all the activity stops and Richard Thomas makes his star-entrance along the top of the stage down stage, walking with a purpose, briefcase in hand, to expected applause. Loved that set up. I never get tired watching a smart director nudge the audience into recognizing the star and reacting appropriately.

Richard Thomas as Atticus Finch has that relaxed demeanor of a decent, honourable man. He believes in the decency and goodness of his neighbours until his Black housekeeper Calpurnia (a wonderful Jacqueline Williams who is watchful, quiet and knowing about the fact that the neighbours are far from decent) sets him straight. Atticus is respectful of all his fellow citizens. He treats Tom Robinson (a fine performance by Yaegel T. Welch) with respect and kindness. This is beautifully illuminated in Richard Thomas’ performance.  

I love Aaron Sorkin’s adaptation of the novel. And there are lovely touches of business in Bartlett Sher’s direction: Scout tenderly putting her head on her father’s shoulder; Bob Ewell looking sideways menacingly at his daughter Mayelle in court to terrify her into lying about what happened to her. But overall, I think this touring production is obvious, forced in some of the acting, and almost too amplified. It’s as if the creators need to tick all the boxes and underline the points to ensure the audience hears everything, instead of trusting them to listen and pay attention to the details. The story represents a terrible miscarriage of justice, representative of a racist mindset—have faith that the audience will ‘get it’ without having to present it with broad strokes, and too slow a pace of the ending that it overplayed the poignancy.

Mirvish Productions present:

Opened: Nov. 21, 2023

Plays until Nov. 27, 2023 but returns May 28 to June 2, 2024

Running time: 2 hours, 50 minutes (1 intermission)

www.mirvish.com

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Live and in person for one performance only at the Meridian Hall, presented by TO Live, Toronto, Ont. Nov. 17, 2023.

Directed and created by Scott Wittman

Music director, Joseph Thalken

Starring: Patti LuPone

It was presented as a concert. It had the trappings of a concert. There was a program that had a picture of Patti LuPone sitting in a chair, sideways, provocative, top hat, and the title was “”Patti LuPone: Don’t Monkey with Broadway.”  That’s why I took time off from my mad theatre going to see this concert. There was a grand piano on the stage. There was a microphone hovering close to where the accompanist would sit.  On the piano was ‘ball’ of bright red roses in a pot. There was a lace (?) covering on the piano that draped down over the side. Very stylish. There was a glass of water on the piano. And a stand microphone.  A concert. But it wasn’t a concert, and that left me miffed when it dawned on me…THIS IS NOT A CONCERT, DAMNIT!!!

It was in fact a MASTERCLASS in how to give a concert by a brilliant artist. Truly astonishing.

Joseph Thalken, the music director/accompanist walked out to applause and screaming from the two people beside me, indicating they knew him and wanted everybody in the place to know they knew him. He sat and got comfortable.

Then with no introduction out walked Patti LuPone. The audience exploded with cheering. She stopped momentarily, as if startled by the reception. I smiled and thought, “Oh come on. You’re not going to tell me you don’t always get that reception as a matter of course! You’re Patti LuPone, for heaven’s sake.” I do like that bit of “what, for me..” reaction staged by director Scott Wittman.

She sang Broadway standards: “They Say That Falling In Love is Wonderful” (Irving Berlin, Annie Get Your Gun), “How Are Things In Glocca Morra (Burton Lane, E.Y. Harburg, Finian’s Rainbow) because, as she said, no one would ever cast her as an Irish lass; “Ya Got Trouble” (Meredith Willson, The Music Man) because no one is going to tell her she can’t sing a song sung by a man in a musical, and it’s her show and she can do what she wants to, and it was wild, breathless and impassioned.

She auditioned for a tour of a musical and sang a song called “Big Spender” (“The minute you walked in the joint/I could see you were a man of distinction, a real big spender/good lookin/so refined/say wouldn’t you like to know what’s goin on in my mind/…..I don’t pop my cork for every guy I see”) (Cy Coleman, Dorothy Fields, Sweet Charity). She sang sounding bored, dull, uninvolved. When she finished she said with real self-deprecation, “HOW COULD I NOT KNOW SHE WAS A HOOKER!?”

She sang classics in that strong, pure voice of hers. The lyrics were clear and beautifully interpreted. She served the music and the message. None of these contorted faces one sees with other singers who want you to know how they are spilling their guts to convey the message.  

She had one piano and the accompanist was microphoned and that was it–she was NOT blared out by the piano. Joseph Thalken, her music director and wonderful accompanist was always in synch with her. They always ended together when they were supposed to. He never drowned her out.  

She sang “Somewhere” (Leonard Bernstein/Stephen Sondheim West Side Story) a love song but with Patti LuPone and with one gesture, her arms out to the audience, it changed from a love song between a man and a woman, and became a plea for peace and acceptance. My jaw dropped at that simple interpretation.

Time and again she would sing a song that ended softly and not with a roar. That’s daring and one had to shake ones head at the guts of it.   She sang the songs one expected because when you win three Tony’s it is expected: “Don’t Cry for Me, Argentina” (Andrew Lloyd Webber/Tim Rice, Evita).  She put her arms out and raised them in three steps and brought the house down and the music was still playing to the end; “Everything’s Coming Up Roses” (Jule Styne, Stephen Sondheim, Gypsy). Fierce, desperate, heartbreaking.  

She finished the show to great cheers and roaring and of course an encore was expected. She came back on with a martini glass in her hand.   “Ladies Who Lunch” (Stephen Sondheim, Company) was the fitting encore, ending on that last forceful command “Rise!” She flipped the contents of the martini glass towards the audience–but not really–and the liquid flopped on the stage.

I thought, ok. Good, you are done. But no. She stayed. I couldn’t believe she would over stay her welcome after such a rousing end. But then she sang these lyrics, quiet, gentle, lilting:

Of all the money that e’er I had
I have spent it in good company
Oh and all the harm I’ve ever done
Alas, it was to none but me

And all I’ve done for want of wit
To memory now I can’t recall
So fill to me the parting glass
Good night and joy be to you all

So fill to me the parting glass
And drink a health whate’er befalls
Then gently rise and softly call
Good night and joy be to you all

I could not believe that girl. ARE YOU KIDDING???? You are flipping me again!!!!! you are ending with “The Parting Glass” a traditional Scottish song of farewell, often sung in Ireland (one of my favourite songs). Yes, she was ending her show with this gorgeous soft song of farewell. And it was stunning.

Damn it. I expected a concert and I didn’t get it. I got so much more. I got a masterclass in giving a concert from a MASTER. A beautifully arranged, curated selection of songs that meant something to her. The show was full of irreverent humour, wit, grace and true artistry.  I wept all the way to the subway. Brilliant woman.

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Live and in person at the Coal Mine Theatre, produced by Coal Mine Theatre, 2076 Danforth Ave., Toronto, Ont. Running until Dec. 10, 2023.

www.coalminetheatre.com

Created and performed by Jani Lauzon

Directed by Franco Boni

Environmental design by Melissa Joakim

Movement consultant, Julia Aplin

A show that is really a ceremony that is a deeply moving, eloquent exploration of what is sacred from the sky, the stars, a pebble to a rock.

The Story and production. Prophecy Fog by Jani Lauzon explores the question: “Can a site still be sacred if it has been desecrated?” Lauzon comes to the question with lots of experience and background. She is Métis and has had her elders, her mother, grandmother and daughter teach her to appreciate the world in which she lives: the air, rocks, water, sky, stars and earth.  She has been collecting rocks of all sorts her whole life. She says that each one has a story. She says that if you rub the stones in your hands and feel the warmth, you release the story.

Melissa Joakim’s environmental design of the set in the small Coal Mine Theatre, is amazing in establishing Lauzon’s connection to rocks. In keeping with respecting the space of the ceremony, the audience is asked to remove their shoes and put them on shelves in the lobby. The audience sits in a circle in chairs.  Inside the circle are bowls and bowls of rocks of various shapes and sizes from boulders to pebbles. Above the space is a circular panel ringing the audience. Projections will be projected on the panel so that the whole audience can get the benefit of the projections.

As the audience files in, Jani Lauzon stands in the center of the circle, swaying and dancing inside a ridged circle which is on a larger round piece of red/orange material with spokes of material jutting out from it; it’s the sun I assume.  Lauzon’s white hair cascades in front of her face and down her back. When the audience is settled and the ceremony continues, Lauzon carefully takes the ‘spokes’ of the material and movers them to fit around the curve of the material so that they are all safely wrapped.

Jani Lauzon comments on the importance of rocks and stones in her life and the stories they have told her.  At various times in the 75 minute ‘ceremony,’ Lauzon upends the bowls of rocks, spreads them around the space, and even holds various rocks up and tells us where she found it and what it means. While she is careful in picking up and holding the rocks, she is deliberate and not delicate when spreading them around. They have been around for thousands of years. They are tough and Lauzon knows it.

Lauzon chose to investigate her question: “Can a site still be sacred if it has been desecrated?”  by going to the Mojave Desert in California, specifically to Giant Rock which had been revered by and deemed sacred to the Indigenous peoples of the area. Lauzon and her daughter drove to the site of Giant Rock and captured it on video.  The video is projected onto the circular panel above the audience. Lauzon approached the rock and then laid her back on it in reverence and after a time, walked away.

On first sighting Giant Rock is majestic and imposing. When Lauzon walks away, one gets a closer look and sees it is splattered with graffiti, some of it with despicable comments (“White power”) and two swastikas under it. There are not just one or two slogans; the face of the rock seems splattered with this graffiti.  So, when Lauzon was filmed delicately, reverentially passing her hand over the rock, even including those areas with graffiti, she illuminated the sacredness of the rock in spite of the desecration.  Giant Rock will always be sacred. Those who defaced it will always be morons.

As with all wonderful theatre, we listen to Lauzon’s story, but we hear it as it pertains to each of us. Her pilgrimage to Giant Rock made me think of my trip to Uluru (Ayers Rock) in the Australian Desert. Uluru is sacred to the many Aboriginal peoples of Australia. To see it from a distance is to have your breath taken away. As you move close and closer to it, it’s over powering. While it’s not covered in graffiti, tourist climbed it, in spite of it being a sacred place, leaving their garbage and even dirty diapers at the top. Finally, the Australian government made it illegal to climb on the rock, thus respecting the wishes of the Aboriginal peoples. I thought of that, while experiencing Jani Lauzon’s ceremony with her rocks.    

Lauzon is a compelling storyteller with a dancer’s grace. The piece is directed with care by Franco Boni. There are moments of stillness, joy, sadness and a real sense of wonder at Jani Lauzon’s vast collection of rocks and her respect for them and their stories.

Comment. Janie Lauzon’s ceremony for her rocks and their stories is a wonderful, embracing, inclusive experience. We might not know of the many and various aspects to her ceremony but we have a deep respect and appreciation for it. We won’t look at rocks in the same way after this show.

Coal Mine Theatre Presents:

Opened: Nov. 15, 2023.

Saw it: Nov. 19, 2023

Plays until: Dec. 10, 2023.

Running Time: 75 minutes, (no intermission).

www.coalminetheatre.com

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Live and in person at the Bluma Appel Theatre, produced by Canadian Stage, Toronto, Ont. Playing until Dec. 2, 2023.

www.canadianstage.com

Written by Stefano Massini

Adapted by Ben Power

Directed by Philip Akin

Set by Camellia Koo

Costumes by Dana Osborne

Lighting by Steve Lucas

Sound by Miquelon Rodriguez

Cast: Ben Carlson

Jordan Pettle

Graeme Somerville

A blockbuster of a play, huge in scope, perception and full of depth. A play and production about a little Jewish immigrant family who started a financial empire with spectacular results, both good and bad.

The Story. It’s billed as “A family and a company that changed the world.” The story begins in 1844 on a New York City dock. Chaim Lehman (pronounced “Laymahn”) has just arrived by boat after months from Bavaria and he talks with conviction of the American Dream. He has come there to the centre of that dream–America– to make his way in the world.

But first he must deal with people, like the customs person who can’t pronounce Chaim (that ‘ch’ sound from the German) or Lehman, so Chaim becomes Henry, and Lehman becomes Lehman (pronounced Leeman). Henry starts a small shop in Mongomery, Alabama that sells fabric. He is soon joined by his two brothers, Emmanuel, the middle brother and Mayer, the youngest. Still there are not many Jews in Montgomery, Alabama.

Henry is considered the ‘head’, the man with the ideas who is always right. Emmanuel is known as ‘the arm’, who has the brawn or energy. And Mayer who has a baby-face like a potato refers to himself as ‘the potato’ acts as the calming presence between his two demanding brothers.

All of them reveal an affinity for business, knowing an opportunity when it appears and taking full advantage of those opportunities. The brothers were full of ingenuity. They saw an opportunity to keep the store open on Sundays while everybody else went to church, and presented an opportunity for the churchgoers to also buy fabric etc. The etc. became shovels and seeds. When disaster struck—many plantations had their cotton crops go up in flames and thus it affected the creation of fabric–so the Lehman Brothers then went into the business of buying raw cotton where they could and then selling that to the fabric maker—in a sense creating the idea of the middle man. They became brokers. They began dealing with “the north” when Emmanuel went to New York to see what kind of business they could drum up up there and decided they should open an office there that he would run. They expanded the business to concentrate in making money, this led to them eventually becoming bankers. They went from Lehman Brothers Cotton to Lehman Brothers Bank. To Lehman Brothers financial, each time expanding the business and shifting its focus.  

They experienced disappointment when there was a problem—such as fires, war, the depression—and they took those problems and saw opportunities. The family expanded. Each brother married and had children. The children displayed the same imagination and creativity to contribute to the business. And each generation of Lehmans out-thought the previous generation with new ideas, focus and the way of dealing with the changing world.

And then, in 2008, 163 years after they established the firm, it collapsed into bankruptcy and either triggered or was part of one of the largest financial crises in history. Interestingly at the time, there was no Lehman in the company, the last one sold his involvement and soon after, the company collapsed. Of course, that was the time in the States, people were irresponsibly loaned huge amounts of money they could never pay back—and that was part of the financial crisis. But for the most part Lehman Brothers, the huge company, was held responsible for the triggering.

The Production. The play is presented in three parts over the evening—it’s a huge production lasting three hours and fifteen minutes, with two intermissions. There are three brothers so each one is spotlighted with his own story. Three actors play all the parts

Ben Carlson plays ‘the head,’ Henry Lehman plus other members of the family. Graeme Somerville plays ‘the arm,’ strong-willed Emmanuel Lehman. Jordan Pettle plays ‘the potato,’  the diplomatic Mayer Lehman. They are all, individually and collectively brilliant in realizing these fascinating characters.

As Henry, Ben Carlson is measured in his speech, confident in his decisions because he is never wrong, and not arrogant. He is a businessman, wily and wise in his decisions and brilliant in his ability to ‘read the room’ and see the endless possibilities for the business.

Graeme Somerville plays Emmanuel Lehman as a determined man who also see where opportunities are and goes after them. He saw the potential of doing business in New York City and went about establishing an office of the company there. He was determined to marry Pauline Sondheim who was already engaged to someone else. And he was persistent and patient. He kept asking her to marry him, weekly for months until she relented. Graeme Somerville plays Emmanuel with a subtle gruffness. Emmanuel has no time for small talk or chit chat. He goes right to the heart of things.

Jordan Pettle plays Mayer Lehman with the diplomacy of the brother who kept peace between his two older, more combative brothers. Mayer was also smart and perceptive. He could solve problems. He was an asset to the company and they all were.

Philip Akin has directed the production with great skill and sensitivity. There is a delicate scene of one of the brothers kissing a mezuzah on his door well that is so subtly, beautifully done I thought it was breathtaking. Akin establishes relationships simply and efficiently. And while Akin is in command of the production, I had a lot of trouble with Camellia Koo’s set and how Akin had to negotiate his cast over this unwieldy set.  

Camellia Koo is usually a fine designer. But this set had me shaking my head in confusion. It looks like several tiers or bleachers of wood structures that the actors climb up and down or walk up and along for the whole show. Often the cast of three pull out boxes that form the structure to perhaps suggest a different location or scene. But I gotta tell ya, I was exhausted watching those guys go up and down those levels, endlessly for the whole show. Why? Is all that climbing and moving of boxes symbolic of them climbing to the top of industry?  Perhaps but then they are also scurrying down the levels, so that can’t be it. I have to assume that this is the set that director, Philip Akin wanted. I just don’t understand the point of that unwieldy structure.

There is also something fascinating. The whole structure is on a raised platform with perhaps several inches between the platform and the stage floor. If you look closely, crammed in that space are bare feet. Are they suggesting the cramped quarters on the boat that immigrants like Henry endured—with people packed into steerage—crammed together?

We don’t hear of the people the Lehman Brothers defeated in business. Are the feet supposed to be symbolic of all the people trampled when their businesses collapsed? I don’t know, but those feet made my eyebrows raise wondering who they represent.

The Lehman Trilogy is a stunning play. In simple scenes, with economic language (bravo to the translation by Ben Power), you get the whole breadth of the thinking and philosophy of these immigrant brothers who came to America seeking their dream and making it a reality. And the people in their family were primed to carry on the family business. Is it about greed? Thinking too big? Hubris? It’s all of that and more. And Philip Akin and his strong cast have brought it to life with verve, conviction and strong legs to get up down that ‘mountain’ of a set.

Comment. I first saw The Lehman Trilogy in London a few years ago. This time I looked at it in a different light because the world has changed. I bring a certain perspective to the play.

I look at those three Jewish immigrant brothers,  all the initiatives, the thinking to read a situation and make an advantage of it to do business, to then shift into banking to make more money, and I see aspects that play into a perceived stereotype for antisemitism, If the Lehman Brothers were not Jewish would I be thinking that or not at all? Questions that arise with good theatre.

Canadian Stage Presents:

Opened: Nov. 17, 2023

Running time: 3 hours, 15 minutes (2 intermissions)

www.canadianstage.com

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Live and in person at the Theatre Centre, Franco Boni Theatre, Toronto, Ont. Produced by Necessary Angel. Running until Dec. 3. 2023.

www.necessaryangel.com

By Sarah Ruhl

Based on the book by Sarah Ruhl and Max Ritvo

Directed by Alan Dilworth

Set and Costumes by Michelle Tracey

Lighting by Rebecca Picherack

Sound by Debashis Sinha

Choreography by Monica Dottor

Cast: Maev Beaty

Jesse LaVercombe

When Max Ritvo was 20-years-old he applied to be a student in playwright Sarah Ruhl’s playwrighting class at Yale. On his application he wrote that he had never written a play. He was a poet and a member of a comedy troupe. Sarah Ruhl’s teaching assistant put Ritvo’s application in the “no” pile. When Sarah Ruhl reviewed the “no” applications, she was struck by Max Ritvo’s intriguing way of expression, that he was a poet and that he purported to be funny—a combination she really appreciated. She accepted him instantly. When Sarah Ruhl (Maev Beaty) first met Max Ritvo (Jesse LaVercombe) in person in class, she was charmed by his irreverence, joy for life, thoughtfulness and the ‘light’ that seemed to be around him.

Early on in the course (2012) he said he would have to leave early because he had tickets to Philip Glass’s opera Einstein on the Beach and needed to leave early to eat—his digestive system had been compromised by chemo when he had pediatric Ewings Sarcoma when he was a teenager. Sarah Ruhl was impressed that he got tickets—she was unable to secure them for herself—and assigned him a task: he had to give a five-minute review of the experience to the class. Max Ritvo took more than an hour to review the experience for the class, giving particular attention to the slowness of scenes and the slow counting of numbers in scenes. Einstein on the Beach was five hours long, without an intermission. One of the women in the class was incensed that this young man had taken so much of the class time with the ‘review.’ We are told by Sarah Ruhl that the woman became one of Max Ritvo’s best friends, such was his charm and effect on people.

Max Ritvo was a tireless writer. He lived to write, mainly poetry. But there were his many e-mails to Sarah Ruhl which were initially formally respectful (“Dear Professor Ruhl”…) and then after the second e-mail (we are told from Professor Ruhl) it was “Dear Sarah.” The e-mails were plentiful on both sides. In Max, Sarah Ruhl found a student (initially) who was bright, smart, hugely intelligent, literary, esoteric, philosophical and briming with insight and life. That last part is ironic because Max Ritvo was dying—no spoiler, we are told the cancer came back. Then it was as if Max was living at warp speed, to cram all his living, his writing and experiencing love and marriage into one short time.

He wrote poems, many to Sarah—dense, thoughtful, complex. He coaxed her to show him her poems. Sarah Ruhl was his teacher but he became hers as he showed her (and us?) how to live while dying from a disease and dealing with the treatment of it.

Over the course of the class and after—Ritvo was accepted in a Master’s English program at Columbia—the e-mails continued, from across the country, or across the city, many detailing his daily trials with cancer. He and Sarah became loving friends without any sexual relationship. Ritvo became that gifted student teachers dream of. He and Sarah could talk about anything and everything with a literary bent, joke, eat soup—soup factors heavily in Letters From Max, a ritual. They gushed over each other’s work without reservation.

One day Sarah Ruhl suggested that they take their correspondence and have it published in a ‘little book.’  He was stunned, but delighted at this. It’s a natural assumption when you are celebrated Sarah Ruhl to have everything your write, published.  (It’s usually not that easy). Max Ritvo had his book of poetry, Four Reincarnations, rejected by 25 publishers before it was published (posthumously).  

The book “Letters from Max, a ritual” is 309 pages long. Sarah Ruhl edited the letters down to this two hour and 15-minute play. It had a short run in New York City last year. This production produced by Necessary Angel is the Canadian premier. Alan Dilworth, the Artistic Director of Necessary Angel has a particular affinity with Sarah Ruhl, who he knows, and whose work he has often produced and directed.

There is a special feeling with Letters From Max, a ritual, almost reverential—gifted writers finding each other, soulmates, sharing thoughts, dreams, fears, ideas, humour and one of them will die at 25 in 2016. Crushing. At one time or another we have all dealt with disease, loss and death in one form or another. That too connects one to the work.

The cast of Maev Beaty as Sarah and Jesse LaVercombe as Max is a winning combination. Maev Beaty is an encouraging presence towards Max when they first meet, turning almost motherly when he becomes depressed at his ill-health, and tender and compassionate when he is sick, scared, but still provocatively creative. Jesse LaVercombe as Max is ‘present’, curious, intensely self-confident, esoteric in his expressions, impish and comfortable in his being accepted as an equal by this gifted playwright. At times this mutual admiration between the two seems to close off the audience from being included.

The set and costumes by Michelle Tracey are simple and evocative. There are two desks, one on either side of the stage with chairs at each. There is a mug for tea on each and bowls for soup on one of the desks. The costumes for Sarah are simple, long sweater, slacks—the long sweater seems almost Virginia Woolf-like. Max wears a scarf jauntily wrapped around his neck, a top and pants. The shoes are interesting: comfortable black shoes with red shoe laces, Max being an extravert right down to his laces.    

Director Alan Dilworth obviously respects and loves this work. His direction is initially simple—the chairs are moved to suggest different locations, scenes, times etc. but after a time the moving of the chairs becames bothersome and not helpful. At one point Max recites something and writes “There is NO God” in chalk on the floor at the same time that Sarah is talking—distracting and symbolism writ large. While Maev Beaty’s Sarah is determined to be buoyant for Max as he gets sicker, Alan Dilworth either deliberately or inadvertently falls for the sentimentality trap when he directs Maev Beaty to pause longer than needed to say that Max had died. It just makes the whole enterprise seem deliberately precious.

Letters from Max, a ritual is moving to be sure when one of the creators is no longer with us. Whether it’s good theatre for a curious audience or more fitting for an audience that likes esoteric, intellectual musings between intellectuals, is another matter.

Necessary Angel presents:

Opened: Nov. 15, 2023

Runs until Dec. 3, 2023

Running time: 2 hours, 15 minutes (1 intermission)

www.necessaryangel.com

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Hi Folks,

Nov.13-19, 2023 is CIUT FM’s Fall fundraising drive. This is my shameless plea to donate to keep the only independent radio station in Toronto going that covers the arts unlike any other outlet. The mainstream media has drastically cut down its arts coverage. Not CIUT FM. On my show, CRITICS CIRCLE, Saturdays from 9 am to 10 am, we do theatre and film reviews every week, plus interviews. I review theatre around the city and the province. We give voice to those who need to be heard. Our shows are all volunteer. Please go to https://ciut.fm noting CRITICS CIRCLE and donate so we can continue to provide needed arts coverage. Thanks. Lynn

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Live and in person at Koerner Hall, produced by the Musical Stage Company, Toronto, Ont. Playing until Nov. 17, 2023.

www.musicalstagecompany.com

Arrangements, orchestrations and music co-supervision, Kevin Wong

Co-arranger, co-orchestrator, and music co-supervisor, Jonathan Corkal-Astorga

Script curation, Jason Spetter

Staging, Kaylee Harwood

Lighting by Mathilda Kane

Cast: Jully Black

Nathan Carroll

Sara Farb

Eva Foote

Kelly Holiff

Lydia Persaud

Vinnie Alberto

Taylor Garwood

The Orchestra:

Piano/conductor/violin, Kevin Wong

Piano/guitar, Jonathan Corkal-Astorga

Drums/percussion, Jamie Drake

Bass, Eric Larson

Over the last several years the Musical Stage Company has created concerts devoted to the music of specific artists such as: The Beatles, ABBA and Dolly Parton, for example. The concerts are called “Uncovered” because the company delves deeply into the music and lyrics to uncover their secrets and inner lives.

This year’s offering is “Uncovered: Fleetwood Mac and The Eagles.” The songs in the concert are curated by Kevin Wong, arranger, orchestrator and music co-supervisor and Kaylee Harwood who staged the work and was responsible for dramaturgy. Jason Spetter was responsible for the script curation. Much research went into not only the songs, but also the history of each band, culling information from interviews, quotes and biographical material. Most of the quotes are from band members and in a few cases, the members of the cast.

Much was made of the tension involved in each band. Both Fleetwood Mac and The Eagles were groups in which the band members were always at odds with each other. In the Eagles the members were: Don Henley, Joe Walsh, Timothy B. Schmit, Vince Gill, Deacon Frey, Glenn Frey, Bernie Leadon, Randy Meisner and Don Felder. There were feuds, firings, jealousies, disagreements, fights, disbandments and reuniting.

The members of Fleetwood Mac were: Stevie Nicks, Lindsey Buckingham, Christine McVie, John McVie, and Mick Fleetwood. In this case it also involved pairings and unpairings between the women of the band and the men. Since both bands were composed of musicians who also wrote the songs, matters could get complicated with jealousies and often produced the most incredible albums of music.

Stevie Nicks of Fleetwood Mac is quoted as saying how depressing it was to spend the whole day with band members with whom you had a personal relationship but the few hours on stage singing and making music together was sublime. Anyone who has heard the albums of both bands knows what Stevie Nicks meant. The words and music conjure such emotions of love, regret, disappointment, uncertainty, joy, and ecstasy.

Some of the best musical interpreters are in the cast of “Uncovered: Fleetwood Mac and The Eagles.” Sara Farb has a way with a mournful song like “Go Your Own Way” by Lindsey Buckingham; Nathan Carroll brings out a wistfulness in “Hotel California, (Don Felder, Don Henley, & J.D. Souther), ” Kelly Holiff is rousing in whatever she sings (Desperado by Glenn Frey & Don Henley, Rocky Mountain Way by Joe Walsh, Rocke Grace, Kenny Passarelli & Joe Vitale), Eva Foote brings a thoughtfulness to “The Boys of Summer” (Don Henley and Mike Campbell), and in just two songs Jully Black illuminates why she is at the top of her game singing “Edge of Seventeen” (Stevie Nicks) and the “Heart of the Matter” (Mike Campbell, Don Henley, & J.D. Souther). They were joined by Lydia Persaud and Vinnie Alberto and Taylor Garwood, the last two are the 2022-23 Syd and Shirley Banks Prize winners. Kevin Wong did multiple duty, besides doing the arrangements, orchestrations and music co-supervision, he also played the piano, violin and sang “Landslide” (Stevie Nicks).

It’s obvious care was taken to try and illuminate the depth of the music and the lyrics. Kaylee Harwood not only stages the concert, she provided dramaturgy to the script. It’s presented in Koerner Hall, probably one of the most acoustically pristine halls in the country if not wider.

Why, then, did I find the whole enterprise so disappointing and dispiriting? Let’s start with the music and lyrics—some of my favourite works—I couldn’t hear them. While most songs began quietly, slowly, thoughtfully, at a certain point near the beginning of each number, the band bashed in, playing as loudly as possible, mixed with the back up groups, singing as loudly as possible and the lead singer(s) also singing as loudly as possible. The sound was ear-splitting. The music and lyrics were drowned out. In some cases—hello Kevin Wong—the enunciation was non-existent. I have one word written next to the song “Rocky Mountain Way”—noise!

Perhaps I was too close in about the fifth row. During intermission I moved to the last row, behind the creative folks and the man ‘regulating’ the sound. Same thing—unintelligible. It’s called “Uncovered” It’s not a rock concert in a huge venue. It’s a concert that delves deeply into the music and lyrics of two leading, iconic, music changing bands, presented in a hall noted for its acoustics, and I can’t hear the music and lyrics—the reason why I’m in the room in the first place. Does no one check for this imbalance? Obviously not since this problem is on going for the Musical Stage Company. Is it not important? Think again.

The Musical Stage Company presents:

Playing until Nov. 17, 2023.

Running time: 2 hours (1 intermission)

www.musicalstagecompany.com

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