Lynn

Live and in person at the Factory Theatre, Mainspace, Toronto, Ont. until Nov. 13.

www.factorytheatre.ca

Written by Marie Beath Badian

Directed by Nina Lee Aquino

Choreography by Andrea Mapili

Set and costumes by Jackie Chau

Lighting by Michelle Ramsay

Sound by Lyon Smith

Cast: Ericka Leobrera

Anthony Perpuse

Sweet but slight.

NOTE: This is the second part of what will be a trilogy of plays. The first play in the series was Prairie Nurse. It’s about the playwright’s mother who came from the Philippines to Saskatchewan to work as a nurse. The Waltz takes place about 20 years later.

The Story. The Waltz is about the possibility of love at first sight, and other things. It’s about a meeting and perhaps blossoming relationship between Romeo Alvarez and Bea Klassen. Romeo is the son of one of the Philippine nurses who came to work in Saskatchewan. He’s on his way from Toronto to British Columbia to go to university. He promised his mother he would stop in Saskatchewan and say hello to a man she knew years before.

Romeo wrote to the man and the man wrote back inviting Romeo to drop by on his journey to the University of British Columbia. Romeo didn’t count on being met by Bea Klassen, also of Philippine descent, who greeted him with a cross-bow. (!) Bea was prickly to be sure, suspicious and rather dangerous. Romeo had to quickly explain his reason for being there and produced the letter from his mother’s friend. Bea was still suspicious and gave Romeo hard time about why he was there, what he wanted etc.

That doesn’t sound like love at first sight. It’s the dance and hoops that Bea is making Romeo go through. It turns out that the man Romeo is there to see is a close friend of Bea’s family. She considers him almost an uncle and she comes from the city of Saskatoon to this cottage in the country to gather her thoughts.  She loves the quiet and isolation of the place and she feels at peace there. So with all Bea’s prickly, combative banter towards Romeo he replies as quickly as she challenges him. Over time she relaxes and begins to trust him. They share the same ethnic background and have similar background stories. We glean that Bea had been bullied at school and so had to develop a thick skin. I don’t think it’s unreasonable to imagine she was bullied because she was from a different ethnic background from those in Saskatoon.

Romeo’s parents argued all the time and he could hardly wait to leave Toronto and go across the country to school and be on his own.  Over the time Romeo is there with Bea, we see that both young people are dutiful to their families—after all Romeo made this great detour on his way to BC to say hello to his mother’s friend. They are proud of their Philippine background, even the few words of Tagalog that they know. The Waltzis a celebration of the Philippine culture, from the various dialects, to the food to the customs etc. Over time it’s revealed that Romeo taught dance back in Toronto, such as the waltz and he shows Bea some of his moves, not in a seductive way, but in a winning her over way. 

The Production. The Waltz deals with ‘love at first sight’ with great caution and perhaps a bit of an edge. It’s a gentle, blossoming, tender story. I found it sweet but slight. We’ve seen shows like this before: prickly person, unsettles the other person who persists in being polite, but matching the prickly banter. Eventually there is a breaking down of the barriers.

The problem I have with The Waltz is that so much of the dialogue seems clever for its own sake. It’s like watching two people spinning their wheels in an argument that is going nowhere. And then for no reason Bea changes course from being cool and challenging, to softening and being funny and agreeable. I found the change in her attitude so quick; I could not see anything in the dialogue that would lead to such a change in attitude, except that if Bea didn’t change, we’d still be there listening to both of them spinning their wheels.

I found the two actors: Erika Leobrera as Bea Klassen and Anthony Perpuse as Romeo Alvarez to be charming, personable and right into the quick timing of the back-and-forth banter.

Nina Lee Aquino directed this with efficiency, but I think she had to do a lot of theatrical stuff because of the slight script. For example, Romeo makes his first entrance from the back of the audience carrying all his luggage, duffel bag and boombox—at least 6 bags/suitcases and that boom box—he was taking to BC. Initially it’s an hilarious image in a mean way, seeing Romeo struggling with all that stuff out of the car and hauling it to the porch of the cottage. My question is WHY?  Who empties his car of the luggage he is bringing for the year to go to university, before he even meets the guy who invited him? Makes no sense.

Jackie Chau has designed a substantial set of the porch of the cottage complete with swing handing down from the top of the porch it seems. The swing is used only twice as I recall, by Bea who only sits on the swing. Why have it at all if it’s not going to be used.

Glad of the acting, but The Waltz is still a slight play and a touch frustrating.

Factory Theatre Presents:

Plays until: Nov. 13, 2022.

Running Time: 90 minutes, (no intermission)

www.factorytheatre.ca

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Live and in person at the Grand Theatre, London, Ont. Closed Nov. 5.

Again, time got away from me so this is a comment on the show.

Written by Trina Davies

Directed by Jillian Keiley

Music director, composer and pianist, Allen Cole

Choreographer, Genny Sermonia

Set by Shawn Kerwin

Costumes by Joseph Abetria

Lighting by Bonnie Beecher

Sound by Richard Feren

Tap Dance Choreographer, Andrew Prashad

Cast: Tess Benger

Jesse Gervais

Cyrus Lane

Katelyn Mcculloch

Christian Murray

Andrew Prashad

Jan Alexandra Smith

Tahirih Vejdani

Anthony Raymond Yu

The disappearance of Ambrose Small, a large presence in Canadian theatre, has lots of facts but little substance in solving the mystery. And presenting this as a vaudeville show is eye-brow-knitting.

The Story. Ambrose Small was a successful theatre entrepreneur. He owned several theatres in Ontario, but on Dec. 2, 1919 he disappeared never to be seen again. He was known to disappear frequently to womanize. But this time there was no trace of him for weeks. His wife Theresa Small offered an award if he was found alive and a lesser award if he was found dead. He had a mistress. Did they run off together? Was there foul play? Questions remain over 100 years after his disappearance.  Some have seen his ghost in the Grand Theatre in London, Ont., one of his holdings. I guess that’s an added bonus since the Grand Theater commissioned Trina Davies to write the play.

The Production. In her program note director Jillian Keiley wrote that because Ambrose Small loved Vaudeville the production is presented as a vaudeville entertainment. I describe that decision as “eye-brow-knitting” because it diminishes the seriousness of the story of the disappearance of this notable theatre mogul. With the accomplished cast deliberately sending up their performances—Jesse Gervais as Ambrose Small deliberately over-plays everything except wink at the audience. Andrew Prashad is the tap-dancing Emcee, which he performs effortlessly. Again, one has to ask, why tap-dancing? Cyrus Lane as Jack is a commanding presence; Tess Benger as Clara is captivating; Jan Alexandra Smith plays Theresa Small with authority, and as I said, the whole cast was fine.

Allen Cole wrote the music, was the musical director and provided the piano accompaniment. Because the piano was microphoned and the cast wore head microphones, there was so much amplification it was hard to hear what the cast were singing. Attention to the balance of the sound would have been helpful.

Trina Davies certainly did a lot of research into Ambrose Small’s life—both private, public and theatrical. Did Small plan on selling his theatres and running off with his mistress Clara with the money? Act I ended with Ambrose disappearing. Act II was taken up with the many and various possible scenarios of what could have happened to Ambrose Small—all of them inconclusive since he was never found.

Comment. While I appreciated the talent involved in this enterprise, I found Grand Ghosts frustrating from the vaudeville performance style that diminished the weight of the story to the inconclusiveness of what actually happened to Ambrose Small. It seemed like a lot of fuss for little return.

The Grand Theatre Presents:

Closed: Nov. 5.

Running time: two hours, 1 intermission.

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Live and in person. produced by Crow’s Theatre and Modern Times Stage Company, at the Streetcar Crow’s Nest, Dundas and Carlaw, Toronto, Ont. Until Nov. 6.

www.crowstheatre.com

Apologies, time got away from me and so this is a comment (the play has closed) and not a review.

Written by Rajiv Joseph

Directed by Rouvan Silogix

Set, props and lighting by Lorenzo Savoini

Costumes by Mina Wong

 Sound by John Gzowski

Cast: Christopher Allen

Andrew Chown

Mahsa Ershadifar

Sara Jaffri

Ali Kazmi

Ahmed Moneka

Kristen Thomson

Director Rouvan Silogix’s bold production of this bracing play presses you to the wall and leaves you breathless.

The Story. Baghdad, Iraq. 2003. The American military has invaded Iraq looking for weapons of mass destruction. They find a Bengal Tiger in a cage in the Baghdad zoo. One soldier named Tom finds/steals the gold pistol and gold toilet seat of Uday Hussein, late son of Saddam Hussein. He mentions this to his agitated but dim friend Kev. Tom taunts the Tiger in the cage and the Tiger bites off one of Tom’s hands. The Tiger is killed but its spirit roams the landscape observing the folly of what is going on in Baghdad. Tom is treated for his wounds. His friend Kev is unsettled and agitated in this strange land where the invading forces don’t know the customs, people, language or even how to properly pronounce the place they are occupying—Kev pronounces it Eye-rak, with a long “I” instead of a short “I”. In the heightened anxiety of the place various things happen: the Tiger roams the city and comments on the goings on; Tom returns from recovering sporting an artificial hand. He wants his gun and toilet seat back; Musa a translator for the Americans and the former gardener for the now dead Uday Hussein is haunted by the memory of what Uday did to his younger sister; Kev is killed in the desert and his spirit returns to converse with Tom but this time Kev is intelligent, conversant in Arabic and calmly philosophical. There are various Iraqi characters who remain calm for the most part when faced with the American soldiers.

Rajiv Joseph has written an esoteric, existential play about philosophy, communication, mysticism, the search for purpose, revenge and a bit of peace.  

The Production. Director Rouvan Silogix has directed an exhilarating production that is stark as well as beautiful, beautifully staged and almost choreographed in its elegance. He has captured the rawness and heightened fear of war, certainly with the constant agitation of Kev (Christopher Allen and Tom (Andrew Chown). Both actors yell often but I can contend with that—it’s war, the have no idea where the enemy will come from. Calmness is not their forte. In contrast to them is Kristen Thomson as the Tiger, resigned, frustrated, musing philosophy and a fascinating presence. Musa, (Ahmed Moneka) the gardener/translator is haunted by the death of his sister, wanting revenge on the dead Uday (a vibrant, arrogant Ali Kazmi)  to the point that he imagines him alive and confronts him. Uday taunts him relentlessly.

Playwright Rajiv Joseph has created the atmosphere of foreboding in Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo and director Rouvan Silogix has ramped it up. Lorenzo Savoini’s elegant set of Persian rugs and the showers of coned haunting light set the mood. John Gzowski’s evocative sound scape of explosive war surrounded us in the room, creating no place to hide. Actors created that sense of intense fear and dread about what the next minute would bring. Terrific production.

Crow’s Theatre and Modern Times Stage Company present:

Played until Nov. 6.

Running Time: 2 hours (plus one intermission).

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Live and in person at the Tarragon Theatre, Extra Space until Nov. 6, 2022.

www.tarragontheatre.com

Written and directed by Yolanda Bonnell

Set by Rebecca Vandevelde

Costumes by Julia Surich

Lighting by Echo Zhou

Sound by Miquelon Rodriguez

Cast: Shandra Spears Bombay

Samantha Brown

Theresa Cutknife

Nicole Joy-Fraser

Ange Loft

Monique Mojica

Pesch Nepoose

Tyler J Sloane

The Story. My Sister’s Rage is by Yolanda Bonnell who also directed it. It’s about family grief, generational trauma and coping with death from an Indigenous point of view. And while it is decidedly serious, it’s also funny.

A family of three sisters and their children are standing vigil over their matriarch who is in a coma in the hospital. The mother’s condition fluctuates from improving etc. to failing all while in a coma. And of course, this situation brings out the feelings, animosity and hidden truths of all involved.

The sisters: Sandra, Olivia and Renna have not seen each other for a long time. Sandra and Renna moved away to the city to get on with their lives. Olivia has stayed on the reserve, working in the Band Office and taking care of their mother. Sandra and Renna do not seem to have kept in touch with Olivia. So when they are summoned to come back because their mother is in a coma, there is an initial coolness between them when they meet, until they have it out with each other. 

In the case of Sandra, there is an added sorrow because years before her daughter disappeared and was latter found dead in a river. Foul play was evident but the police did not investigate the case.  Sandra never got over it and began drinking and didn’t stop, even when she came back to see her sick mother. There is a kind of reckoning there, initially with her children telling her that they feel forgotten by her and her drinking. And then Olivia tells Sandra the blunt truth about her drinking and it has to stop and she must face the truth that her daughter has died and she has two other children who need her.

Sandra’s two remaining children, Valerie and Tash, feel lost and resentful because they don’t feel that Sandra actually ‘sees’ them.  She is so mired in her own sorrow, she can’t see her two other children have suffered too.

Olivia has one daughter, Laney who has to deal with her mother’s anger at being the one who stayed behind and took care of her sick mother. Laney has to cope with her own mother’s residual resentment and frustration, while also fretting about her grandmother.

Renna’s daughter Stephie was not only the cousin of the dead girl but also they were best friends. There are a lot of wounded people in this play who all seem isolated in their own grief because their mothers are not giving them the comfort and support they need. The cousins in fact seem to bond better than the sisters do, although the cousins have some prickly moments.

It’s not a spoiler alert that eventually the mother dies and there is a kind of cleansing of old wounds of the sisters and cousins in the traditional burial and celebration of the mother/grandmother.

The Production. Yolanda Bonnell knows and says that in grief, humour is a healer. And her play is often funny because of irreverent things that the characters say to each other.  But Bonnell has also written a character named Wanda (Monique Mojica ) who is a constant presence. Wanda is a witness to the anger, frustration and grief of the characters as well as a person who watches over them, trying to pass on comfort. At times she might seem like a trickster—a magical presence in Indigenous culture, a presence who might shift and manipulate the proceedings. Wanda is comic relief. She tells jokes that are corny, sometimes scatological sometimes hilarious. We know her purpose and buy into her efforts. Also present is the sound of a symbolic crow, overseeing the proceedings. Kudos to Miquelon Rodriquez’s sound, Rebecca Vandevelde’s multi-leveled set and Julia Surich’s costumes.

Playwright/director Yolanda Bonnell has the sisters individually talk to their comatose mother, thus revealing their concerns, personalities and character. And she gradually reveals the many and various animosities that have consumed these sisters for so long.  Every family has gone through this. I don’t think it’s a cliché, but just something that’s familiar.

Yolanda Bonnell also directs her own show. A playwright directing their own work always gives me pause or concerns. After all who will tell the playwright that they should cut their play or tighten scenes, if not the director? Who will tell the director that perhaps they are getting too fussy in the direction, if not a playwright perhaps. But since she’s both the playwright and director, the stuff needing attention is not getting it.

While I appreciated Yolanda Bonnell’s work as a playwright, the play often takes too long to set up stories. There are eight characters and all of them have their own story. Perhaps judicious trimming is in order.

We have to take on faith that Sandra (Shandra Spears Bombay) would stop drinking, get herself out of her depression over her dead child and embrace her other children because she finally saw the light after Olivia (Nicole Joy-Fraser) told her the painful truth. She was confronted by her children, Tash (Tyler J Sloane) and Valerie (Samantha Brown) over this issue, but it didn’t result in change—only when her sister confronted her did it work.

As for the direction, the pace could be tightened. The character of Wanda who provides comic relief initially seems laboured in the joke telling. Although Monique Mojica as Wanda is charming and irreverent, she seems to be directed to deliberately draw out the jokes. I think this defeats the purpose of getting a laugh.

The script and the characters are funny on their own. And sometimes a simple door sticking provides a lot of laughs when a character swears that yet again, the door sticks.

Aside from my concerns of the play needing trimming, pacing and some direction, I thought the acting was fine. As Olivia, Nicole Joy-Fraser is consumed with frustration and anger at her situation. Her movements are quick, her voice is brusque and direct. And there is s grinding despair about the character, but Nicole Joy-Fraser fills her character with determination and resolve.

As Sandra, Shandra Spears Bombay is trying to drown her sorrows in liquor and casual sexual encounters. It’s a performance full of irreverence that hides the sorrow and need to forget. Sandra is feisty and combative when faced with the truth, but it eventually brings her around. As I said, the acting of the whole company is fine.

Comment. While the play is centred in Indigenous culture, it is also applicable to other cultures as well.The best way to make a universal statement is to be very focused and specific.So while we are looking at an Indigenous family grieve such applications apply to probably all cultures. There is the Irish wake that is a bust-up party to celebrate the dearly departed. There is the Jewish tradition of sitting shiva for the departed when family and friends are welcome to come and tell stories and reminisce with the grieving family, and I’m sure other cultures have something similar to remember the dead and comfort the living.

I thought it interesting that the title suggests that it’s one sister’s rage—as in ‘s and not s’. Yolanda Bonnell makes us ponder just what sister is she talking about? And who is doing the observing—who is taking when she says, “My Sister’s Rage?”  Bonnell has interesting things to say about grief, trauma, and families from an Indigenous point of view, but with clear universal applications.

Tarragon Theatre, in association with Studio 180 Theatre and TO Live Present:

Plays until: Nov. 6, 2022.

www.tarragontheatre.com

Available for viewing on demand anytime from Nov 16 at 8pm until Dec 11 2022 at 11:59PM.

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Live and in person produced by B & E Theatre in association with The Church of the Holy Trinity, Eaton Centre, Toronto, Ont. Runs until November 13, 2022.

https://bnetheatre.online.red61.ca

Written by John Patrick Shanley

Directed by Stewart Arnott

Costumes by Lara Berry

Lighting by Gareth Crew

Sound by Stewart Arnott, Jack Considine, & J. D. Smith

Cast: Brian Bisson

Deborah Drakeford

Emma Nelles

Kim Nelson

A dandy production of a bracing play that challenges us to confront our doubts.

The Story. It’s 1964, the Bronx in New York City. The assassination of President Kennedy shook the population, made them unsteady in what they believed in. Sister Aloysius is the principal of her Catholic school. She is a watchful, perceptive, stern, pragmatic administrator. She knows all the tricks of every prankster-child in the school. She knows that when a kid has to go home with a bloody nose, he gave himself the injury by shoving a ballpoint pen up his nostril. Sister Aloysius wants to ban ballpoint pens and restrict the kids to using fountain pens. She believes in formality, order and procedure in all things. She is suspicious of unusual behavior.

She is suspicious of Father Flynn, a popular parish priest who teaches sports at the school. She believes that Father Flynn is doing something improper with a young Black boy named Donald Muller at the school. She asks a young teacher in the school, Sister James, if she has seen anything improper regarding Father Flynn. She asks Sister James to be vigilant and report anything odd that she sees. Sister James says that she has not seen anything suspicious but then remembers that she thought she smelled liquor on Donald’s breath.

Sister Aloysius confronts Father Flynn. He denies anything happening between him and the boy. He says he caught Donald drinking the altar wine but chose to keep it quiet because if the news got out Donald would lose his position as an altar boy. Now that Sister Aloysius knows, the boy must lose his position. Sister Aloysius is not convinced by this story. She speaks to the boy’s mother in her office. Mrs. Muller wants to ignore the possibility that the priest is showing special attention to her son for whatever reason because the boy has such a hard time at home. His father beats him if he does anything wrong; if he is not the boy he expects him to be, and certainly if he lost his position as an altar boy. Mrs. Muller is trying to protect her son at all cost. Mrs. Muller wants to forget the matter until June when Donald will graduate to high school.

Sister Aloysius is shaken by this encounter but does not push her agenda here. Instead, she is relentless with Father Flynn, whom she confronts with her suspicions. “You have no proof,” he cries. “But I have my certainty,” she hisses. An answer that is a gut-punch, no matter where our doubt is about the truth.

The Production. The production takes place in The Church of the Holy Trinity. (a quibble…the echo is sometimes a problem, so we just listen harder). It’s billed as an immersive production, but that isn’t quite accurate, even though Father Flynn (a thoughtful, low-key Brian Bisson) enters from the back of the Church to the front to begin his sermon, thus making it seem as if he is preaching to us, his congregation. But for the rest of the production, the action is performed on the raised ‘stage’, clearly separated from the audience.

Sister Aloysius (Deborah Drakeford) enters her office through a doorway up centre. She sits at her desk and methodically checks work. As Deborah Drakeford plays her, Sister Aloysius is straight-backed, upright with just a touch of rigidity. Her hands are almost always clasped in front of her. She summons Sister James (Emma Nelles) to her office to comment on her enthusiasm for her students and her subjects—Sister Aloysius is not happy about that enthusiasm. She prefers a more controlled demeanor—perhaps like herself. While Sister James is concerned for the health and welfare of the student with a nose bleed, Sister Aloysius is more suspicious, knowing that the student caused the nose bleed by shoving a ballpoint pen up his nose.

Sister James likes and admires Father Flynn for his position in the Church and for his rapport with his students. But Sister Aloysius puts a note of doubt in Sister James’ mind when she is asked if Sister James is aware of any odd behaviour with Donald Muller and Father Flynn. Sister James’ trust and belief in people and the system are compromised, put into doubt when Sister Aloysius asks her to be watchful. As Sister James, Emma Nelles gives sensitive, initially buoyant performance of a young nun embracing her calling. She loves teaching and passing on that enthusiasm to her students. But under Sister Aloysius’ scrutiny you can see the enthusiasm slowly seep away and doubt take its place.

Sister Aloysius invites Mrs. Muller to come and discuss the situation with her son Donald. It’s only one scene, but Kim Nelson as Mrs. Muller squeezes every second of humanity, concern, trepidation, confliction and capitulation out of that scene. Kim Nelson gives a powerful performance in that one scene. Mrs. Muller is perfectly turned out in Lara Berry’s costume of a skirt, top, coat shoes and cotton gloves. She holds a handbag in front of her with both hands, but those cotton gloves just finished the look and squeezed my heart at the same time. As Mrs. Muller says, she has been ‘summoned’ to the ‘principal’s office’ to discuss her son, and she is going to be dressed perfectly for a kind of protection for this situation. Kim Nelson carries Mrs. Muller’s home-life-baggage through the door of that office. It’s in her face and body language. She knows her son and loves him no matter what. She knows her husband beats the boy for any transgression and she will do anything to protect him. So she tells Sister Aloysius that if Father Flynn is the only friend and protector her boy has then she will look the other way and ignore Sister Aloysius’ concerns. It’s a formidable performance against the formidable performance of Deborah Drakeford.

This is not to say that Sister Aloysius is a total harridan. Absolutely not true. Deborah Drakeford as Sister Aloysius illuminates a woman who has known loss and sorrow. She has found solace and order in the Church. In her own way she knows what is going on in that school and knows every single student and their individuality. She knows that someone will eventually hit Donald Muller. She is aware of the angry, racist world in which they all live. Sister Aloysius cares deeply for everybody in her charge. She just shows it in a contained, objective way. She is determined to keep everybody safe in that school and that means going after anyone who might do harm, in this case Father Flynn.

As played by Brian Bisson, Father Flynn is personable, affable and a winning teacher who charms his students as a basketball coach and their priest. He urges the students to do their best in basketball practice and then invites them for cookies in the rectory. This is a quiet, playful performance by Brian Bisson when interacting with the students. But Bisson becomes combative when up against the suspicions of Sister Aloysius. He invokes procedure when dealing with her suspicions. She is not above using trickery.

Who is telling the truth. The beauty of the play and the production, under Stewart Arnott’s careful direction, is that we are always in doubt. Stewart Arnott establishes the relationships in a nuanced, subtle way. Scenes build steadily and are subtly compelling until we can’t move for looking and being caught up in the high stakes of the arguments.

Even in the last scene with Sister Aloysius and Sister James, there is doubt, but it has shifted craftily by the playwright, leaving us all to think, wonder and contemplate what we believe, think and are not sure about.   

Comment. As Father Flynn says in the first lines: “What do you do when you are not sure?” John Patrick Shanley has created a crackly good play that has us question for the whole of the play, what we are looking at. Is Father Flynn innocent? Is Sister Aloysius guilty of being a vigilante without proof? Where are our sympathies? Where is our doubt? Terrific play and gripping production.

B & E In association with The Church of the Holy Trinity presents:

Runs until: November 13, 2022.

Running Time: 1 hour, 40 minutes (one intermission)

https://bnetheatre.online.red61.ca

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Live and in person at Theatre Aquarius in Hamilton, Ont. until November 5, 2022.

www.theatreaquarius.org

Written by Marcia Johnson

Directed by Esie Mensah

Set and costumes by Jackie Chau

Lighting by Tim Rodrigues

Sound by Christopher Stanton

Cast: Percy Anane-Dwumfour

Kevin Hare

Kaylee Harwood

Germaine Konji

Keren Roberts

A wonderfully clear production thanks to director Esie Mensah and her dandy cast.

The Story. The story takes place in two time periods in two places: 1952 in Kenya and in 2015 in London, England. In 1952 in Kenya, Mercy a restaurant owner, is hired to cook for the impending visit of Princess Elizabeth (soon to be Queen) and the Duke of Edinburgh.  

 In 2015, in London, England, Tia a young Kenyan-born Canadian, is working as an intern on a TV drama series about the British royal family (think The Crown) – while also pursuing a writing project of her own.

In both the 1952 section and the 2015 section the story initially is being told and managed by white voices to the exclusion of black voices. And then Mercy in Kenya in 1952 and Tia in London in 2015 decide to correct the exclusion. The play explores questions of colonialism, nationalism and who gets to have a voice.

The Production. I find the structure of Marcia Johnson’s play problematic. Each scene bounces back and forth between 1952 and 2015. The two previous productions I’ve seen over the last few years have done little to clarify the situation, with many shiftings of tables and chairs to establish the different time periods and scene locations. I have often thought that projections indicating the year and location would help but these weren’t used in the two previous productions. Esie Mensah, a wonderful dancer, choreographer and now director has solved this problem efficiently, simply and with great detail, even without the time/place projections.

Designer, Jackie Chau has created distinct spaces on the stage for each time period and country. The scenes in Kenya in 1952 are placed stage right. The entrance to Mercy’s restaurant is up centre through parting double doors over which is an arch. A simple table and chairs are a bit stage right. There is a vibrant table cloth with a bold design covering the table. Later when the action shifts to the lodge in Kenya where Princess Elizabeth (Kaylee Harwood) and the Duke of Edinburgh will stay for their visit, there is a long table and chairs again with a table covering. There is a stairway with a bold pattern on the rise of the stairs in the Kenya scenes also stage right. The London scenes are placed stage left with a desk, some chairs and another staircase with another pattern, rather somber and a bit ponderous. That said “London, 2015” to me.

Jackie Chau’s costumes for each time period and country are just as distinctive. The clothes for Mercy (Keren Roberts) and Faith (Germaine Konji) are traditional for Kenya, the colours and patterns are very vivid and arresting. Talbot (Kevin Hare), the Princess’ envoy is dressed in a prime suit and tie. The clothes for Tia (Germaine Konji) and Robin (Kaylee Harwood) in London are casual. Great care went into the choosing of the fabrics, design and table coverings to appear as authentic to Kenya in particularly as possible.

By establishing distinct areas for the two time periods and locations, director Esie Mensah cut down on the need to shift the furniture to many and various locations as each scene moved from time period and back and from Kenya to London.

The acting was fine and Mensah established the relationships nicely. As Mercy, Keren Roberts plays her with all the bubbling rage that consumes Mercy. She is an anti-monarchist. She remembers the damage the colonials have done to her country. She protested years before. She has no love for the English and certainly not the royals. Keren Roberts as Mercy is staunchly proud of her country. When she has an opportunity to voice her opinion to the Royals, she takes it, never flinching or standing on ceremony. This Mercy commands respect.  

Faith is a calming soul between her mother Mercy and the rest of the world. As played by Germaine Konji, Faith is a confident woman with a softness and a diplomacy that is effective and soothing. Faith reads the world better than Mercy does. Diplomacy seems to be in her bones. She gets things done without fuss.

Kaylee Harwood as Robin is a very contemporary English woman in London, 2015, comfortable in her world and confident. As Princess Elizabeth in 1952 Kenya, Kaylee Harwood is poised, controlled and obviously following the demanding protocol of a Princess. Kevin Hare as Talbot is proper, efficient and exceedingly polite. What I thought was strange about this otherwise fine performance is that Kevin Hare did not play Talbot with an English accent, and Talbot would surely be English since he was the envoy of the Princess. As Maurice, English writer of the series on the Royals, Kevin Hare is contemporary and does play him with an English accent.

Finally, Percy Anane-Dwumfour as Montague in Kenya in 1952 and Steven in London in 2015 plays both men well, differentiating their demeanor, posture and composure.  

Comment. Playwright, Marcia Johnson wrote Serving Elizabeth after she saw the episode in the T.V. series The Crown in which Princess Elizabeth went to Kenya in 1952, interacted with several Black people and precious few of them actually had speaking parts. Marcia Johnson corrected that lapse by writing Serving Elizabeth in which the Black characters have plenty to say and in their confident way they say it and are heard. In the London, 2015 scenes, Tia is aware of this lapse when she reads the script for the T.V. series that Maurice is writing about the Royal Family (hence we assume The Crown) and sees that he has given practically no dialogue to Black characters, so she decides to write her own script. The whole idea of “who gets to have a voice” is examined in Serving Elizabeth. Director Esie Mensah ensures that that voice is clear, strong and commanding in her meticulous direction.

Theatre Aquarius presents:

Plays until: November 5, 2022.

Running Time: 2 hours, 20 minutes (1 intermission)

www.theatreaquarius.org

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The Good Thief by Conor McPherson produced by Fly On The Wall Theatre, had a very short run at Noonan’s Irish Pub on The Danforth, Toronto, Ont. in October and I was only able to see the last performance Oct. 25, after I returned from England.

I feel the production warrants comment.

Written by Conor McPherson

Directed by Rod Ceballos

Starring David Mackett

The Good Thief is the third Conor McPherson play that David Mackett and his Fly On The Wall Theatre have produced along with Dublin Carol and Port Authority. One can see the attraction to McPherson’s works. Irish playwright Conor McPherson is a master storyteller. He writes about the souls who are lost, lacking a safe harbor, solace. They flounder, are haunted but keep going in search of, what, something better? Redemption? Oblivion?

As a spider weaves a web to trap his prey, McPherson weaves his compelling story to draw the audience in and tangle them in his storytelling web, so that they can not escape the tight, compelling world of McPherson’s characters.

The Narrator of The Good Thief is such a character. He’s a lowly thug working for some other hoodlums to ‘lean’ on characters, just to frighten them into paying owed money, keeping quiet about something, or just overpowering them without actually hurting them. The Narrator seems reluctant to hurt anyone. So when he goes to a residence to scare one of the inhabitants he is surprised to see two professional thugs already there and they don’t have the same hesitation to inflicting pain. Matters get out of hand and the thugs kill the man they are seeking. The Narrator takes the man’s wife and daughter in his car to escape the thugs. But then matters turn ugly. The title, The Good Thief is ironic rather than a description of the man’s thug work. He has a heart that really doesn’t want to hurt anyone.

The Narrator is haunted by what happens and he can’t escape being haunted. He tells the story in a pub (the Noonan Irish Pub on the Danforth seems ideal for such an endeavor). He drinks a large glass of what looks like Guinness, followed by a short glass of stronger stuff. David Mackett and his director Rod Ceballos don’t give in to the cliché of a haunted man drinking and drinking to escape being haunted. The Narrator has just those two drinks that don’t mask being haunted. They allow The Narrator to experience the full force of the inescapable, his haunted memories.

David Mackett as The Narrator tells the story in a well-paced delivery. There is nuance and subtlety in the telling—if I have a quibble it’s that there is room for more variation in the voice as he tells the story. The Narrator finds humour in the details and the people he meets, and doesn’t tip his hand before he has to in telling us what happened and why the memory of it is something he can’t escape. It was a tribute to Mackett that the whole pub was quiet as he told the story. No clinking of glasses; no eating of food. Just an appreciative audience listening to a compelling story, told by an engaging actor in a lilting Irish accent, reveling in the words.

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Live and in person at the CAA Theatre, until November 5 David Mirvish presents a studio 180 production.

www.mirvish.com

Written by Paula Vogel

Directed by Joel Greenberg

Set by Ken Mackenzie

Costumes by Michelle Tracey

Lighting by Kimberly Purtell

Sound by Thomas Ryder Payne

Projections by Cameron Davis

Musical director, Emilyn Stam

Score and original music by Lisa Gutkin and Aaron Halva

Cast: Matt Baram

Jonathan Gould

Jessica Greenberg

Tracy Michailidis

Dov Mickelson

Sarah Orenstein

Nicholas Rice

Musicians: Laetitia Francoz-Lévesque

Emilyn Stam

John David Williams

An exquisite production of a bracing play about art, resilience and love that never holds back.

The Story.  Indecent by Paula Vogel was first produced in 2015, opened Off-Broadway in 2016 followed by a Broadway run in 2017. It’s a play within a play.

Indecent is about Polish-Jewish writer, Sholem Asch’s 1906 play, God of Vengeance which he wrote in Yiddish when he was 21. Paula Vogel focuses on the trials and tribulations God of Vengeance had from its first reading to productions in Europe, finally a production in New York, first Off-Broadway and then on Broadway, and the scandal from a charge of obscenity brought against the cast and the producer.

Asch wanted to write a play about Jews that did not put them on a pedestal or make them all seem like heroes. He wanted to depict them as flawed but also human. God of Vengeance charts that journey.  So we have a pious Jewish man who lives with his wife and daughter. But he runs a brothel in the basement. He forbids his daughter Rivkele from having anything to do with the brothel or the women who work there. But Rivkele is fascinated with what goes on there and in particular a prostitute named Manke. Over time Rivkele and Manke fall in love and have a passionate loving relationship.

Playwright Paula Vogel then imagines Sholem Asch’s first reading of the play at a local literary Jewish salon and the reaction is almost all negative. The participants are appalled by the lesbian story-line; or think this perpetuates antisemitic stereotypes, and that in one scene the father throws the Torah across the room. Asch is told to burn his manuscript by the irate participants. Only Lemml a tailor, likes the play. He says the play changed his life. Lemml then becomes the stage manager, he is so connected to the play.

What follows is that Asch does not burn his manuscript. The play (in Yiddish) is produced all over Europe to great acclaim with Lemml being the stage manager. And then they take the play, in Yiddish, to New York, first Off-Broadway, then in an English translation to Broadway where the problems began.

The Jewish producer for God of Vengeance was afraid of reactions to some scenes. One cut removed a passionate scene between Manke and Rivkele. This outraged the two actresses who were playing those characters. The police arrested the cast and producer anyway on the charge of obscenity because of the play’s content. They were found guilty and the play closed. Asch was asked to testify on behalf of his play and cast but refused. He had been to Europe and saw the results of pogroms and that sent him into a deep depression and he could not rouse himself to defend his cast and play. There is another deeper, sadder reason I won’t reveal but it haunted Asch for years.

Lemml announced he was going home to Poland because he was sick of having people in America make fun of his accent. And he lamented the treatment of the play in American since it played without incident in Europe.  In 1952 Asch was hauled up in front of the House Unamerican Activities Committee because 52 years before he might have been a socialist. He and his wife were forced to leave America and go and live in England.

The Production. The production of Indecent is complex, layered and beautifully produced by director Joel Greenberg. Ten chairs are arranged along the back row of Ken Mackenzie’s set. The seven cast members and three musicians sit in the chairs. They all rise and walk forward. The first startling image is of the whole cast arranging their arms so that a steady flow of ash drops from their sweatered or jacketed sleeves. What an image, ash could be representative of their late relatives; their dreams falling away. There are so many possible references for the audience, but the main reference line is  ”from ashes they rise.” A beautiful metaphor for the resilience of the Jewish people through the first half of the 20^th century.

Cameron Davis’ projections help clarify and simplify the story.  Projections in English with Yiddish underneath it indicates if a character is speaking in English or Yiddish. If it’s English, the characters speak with a Yiddish accent. If the dialogue is in Yiddish, the characters speak in an unaccented voice.

When characters are performing in the play, God of Vengeance the acting style is broad and over expressed, as might have been the style in 1906 etc. When characters are not performing in God of Vengeance, the acting is detailed, layered, subtle and nuanced. I love how director Joel Greenberg made that distinction of acting styles between God of Vengeance and Indecent which is referencing it. Also impressive is Greenberg’s melding of the musicians and actors in his staging, so that musician and actor are woven together, each serving the other. The music enhances the dialogue and the dialogue follows naturally from the music.

The cast is uniformly strong. As Lemml, Matt Baram plays a quiet, understated man, but when he says that the play God of Vengeance changed his life it’s said with a reverence that is compelling and totally believable. Lemml devotes years of his life to that play, doing it the honour it deserves. As Sholem Asch, Jonathan Gould is vibrant and confident. He would have to be to have written such a bold, challenging plays as God of Vengeance. But Asch is also needy for confirmation that the work is good, and he gets that from his loving, supportive wife, played with exuberance by Jessica Greenberg (in one of her many roles). Later when Asch is chastised for not defending his cast and play in court, Jonathan Gould seems rumbled, a bit hunched and consumed with regret because the reason is so  heartbreaking. In the God of Vengeance scenes, Jessica Greenberg as Rivkele is both innocent and sexually alive in her relationship with Manke (Tracy Michailidis). Greenberg gives a sensitive performance of a young woman who is curious, hesitant but so compelled to act on her attraction to Manke. As Manke, Tracy Michailidis is the more ‘experienced’ woman but she too has a tentativeness in this loving relationship with Rivkele. They are both attracted to each other and the sexual bond is strong yet tender. Their love is beautifully realized in the careful staging of their scenes.  

Director Joel Greenberg has created a huge, sweeping yet intimate production that aches with emotion, love and sensuality.

Comment. Indecent is certainly critical of the American reception to God of Vengeance in New York and how it treats people who are different, as Lemml’s line about his accent indicates. The play is also a charting of the treatment of Ashkenazi Jews through the first half of the 20^th century and their resilience.

Indecent certainly brings up all manner of questions regarding anti-semitism. I love the play and the ‘landmines’ all through it. These are tricky times, with the obvious rise of anti-semitism. Paula Vogel certainly addresses that when she has a character challenge Sholem Asch when he says he does not want to put the Jewish people on a pedestal and depict them as heroes. The character says that anti-semites will have another reason to pillory the Jews because of the play. Vogel makes one look cold-eyed at such a suggestion. How does one stare down anti-semitism? Does one try not to make waves, as Sholem Asch was told not to do? Just a quick look at the plays of Paula Vogel would suggest that going quietly and not making waves is definitely not her forte. She wrote a play called How I Learned to Drivewhich is about pedophilia, incest and misogyny.

Does one stir the waters as Sholem Asch did in God of Vengeance in which he wrote about a Jew as a brothel owner, lesbianism and love in many guises. How can anyone even begin to analyze and consider racism in any form. Does one worry what a Gentile might think of this Jewish play as a character comments. Or even be concerned what a Jewish person might think of the play. I love that Paula Vogel gets us to think about these thorny, challenging, difficult questions. At its heart, Indecent is a bracing, thoughtful multi-layered play so worth our attention. Joel Greenberg and his company are giving it a wonderful, fascinating production.   

Mirvish Productions presents a Studio 180 Theatre Production.

Plays until: November 5, 2022.

Running time: 1 hour, 40 minutes (no intermission)

www.mirvish.com

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Live and in person at the Olivier Theatre, National Theatre, London, England plays until, Nov. 5, 2022.

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Written by Arthur Miller

Directed by Lyndsey Turner

Set by Es Devlin

Costumes by Catherine Fay

Lighting by Tim Lutkin

Sound designer (Content design)

Sound designer (Sustem design)

Composer/arranger, Caroline Shaw

Music director/arranger, Osnat Schmool

Cast: Zoë Aldrich

Nathan Amzi

Sophie Brown

Brendan Cowell

Rachelle Diedericks

Erin Doherty

Henry Everett

Nick Fletcher

Gracie McGonigal

Alastair Parker

Ami Tredrea

Eileen Walsh

An uneven cast and often static direction of a powerful play that ultimately rises above it all.

The Story. Arthur Miller wrote The Crucible as an allegory to the McCarthy era in the U. S. and the witch hunts to name names of those notable people who may be ‘communists.’ People in the theatre and film lost jobs when their fellows ‘named names’ and accused them of being communist.

The Crucible is set in 1692 in Salem, Massachusetts. The town is in turmoil because some young girls and women of the town seem to be in a trance, revealing they have seen the devil or witches. They accuse many of their fellow townsfolk of being evil, or the devil or witches and the religious people believe them and go on a rampage to condemn them.

One family in particular is targeted. John Proctor has strayed and slept with Abigail Williams, a young woman who worked for him and his wife Elizabeth at one time. Elizabeth knew about John’s transgression and has treated John coldly for the betrayal. Abigail seems to be the ring leader of the young women, their trances and their accusations. Eventually Elizabeth Proctor is accused of being a witch and John is also implicated as being named as seeing the devil.  There is a trial. Elizabeth would have to admit that she knew that John was unfaithful. He said to the court that Elizabeth would never lie, not even to save him. But she does. The play is gripping.

The Production. Es Devlin has designed the set on the huge Olivier stage. It’s a large raked square stage. The stage is set with rows of chairs facing upstage, as if in church. There is a square frame above the stage the same size as the stage below.

The production starts at 7:30 pm. At 7:20 pm the beams of the square above the stage are illuminated and a torrent of ‘rain’ water flows down on to the stage from above and continues until the play starts. Puddles form on the sides of the stage. I don’t get the sense that the audience in the front is affected. That would have spoiled the surprise that those in the front knew before hand they might get wet.

When the production begins, the rain stops, the cast arrives and sits in the seats as in church and sing a hymn. It’s beautiful. Reverend Samuel Paris begins his sermon. Two young girls at the back begin talking to each other during the sermon. The Reverend sees it, comes down from his pulpit and slaps one of the girls across the face. This is a tough, hard world.

When the chairs are being re-arranged for the next scene, young women come forward and set the time (1692) and recite Arthur Miller’s astonishing Prologue to his written play, some of which is: “The Salem tragedy, which is about to begin, developed from a paradox. Simply, it was this: for good purposes, even high purposes, the people of Salem developed a theocracy, a combine of state and religious power whose function was to keep the community together, and to prevent any kind of disunity that might open it to destruction by material or ideological enemies. But all organization is and must be grounded on the idea of exclusion and prohibition, just as two objects cannot occupy the same space…” The Prologue is frightening and extraordinary.

This is the world of director Lyndsey Turner’s production. For some reason, each scene ends with a torrent of rain from the frame above. Perhaps it’s like a ritualistic cleansing, which actually doesn’t make sense. Or perhaps because it’s so dramatic, which seems a bit too theatrical. Surely the play should speak for itself. One is fascinated watching actors/crew apply towels to wipe the stage of the moisture. Much of Lyndsey Turner’s staging is static, even dull, but the interrogation of Elizabeth and John Proctor outside the courtroom is electrifying. As the interrogator, Judge Hathorne, Henry Everett is relentless and determined.

The cast of British actors seems to have difficulty with what has been decided would be the accents of that time in America. Some put in pauses that are so clunky it’s jarring. Most of the woman characters have longish hair held up by braids. Most of the men have beards. But John and Elizabeth Proctor (Brendan Cowell, Eileen Walsh) are different and stand out, perhaps to note they are separate in that community, although members of it. Eileen Walsh as Elizabeth Proctor has very short hair, very contemporary. She is stoical and occasionally mournful. As John Proctor Brendan Cowell is fascinating. He doesn’t seem to be in the same play as the others who are trying to suggest it’s 1692. He looks like he’s preparing to play Stanley Kowalski in A Streetcar Named Desire. He is slightly hunched. His arms hang out from his body. He has the body language almost of a ‘biker.’ His accent seems somewhere around the Bronx. Fascinating.

But in the court room scene he is compelling and Lyndsey Turner’s staging/direction here is electrifying. When Elizabeth is brought into the court, John is ordered not to look at her to give her any hints of what to say. We are told that she would not lie to save John. She would reveal she knew that he strayed. In fact, she doesn’t. John’s reaction is immediate and dramatic. I loved that the audience gasped. John then has to confess his transgression and that he has seen the devil. Then he has to write it down and is forced to sign his name. When he hesitates he explains that he has confessed; that they all heard it. He does not want his proclamation to be nailed to the town hall wall. He gives one of the most powerful, speeches of the play about the importance of his name and what it stands for.

There is not “set” way to do any scene in any play. It’s so individual with any actor. That said, I have heard that speech declared, as if John Proctor is proud of his name and his determination to stand up to this tyranny. Brendan Cowell says the speech softly, almost in a whisper, almost defeated but still so moving. I always weep at that powerful scene Brendan Cowell gave me another reason to react that way to this incredible speech.

The play overcomes any flashy theatricality in the set; clumsy pacing; or wonky performances. Terrific play.

Comment. Arthur Miller wrote The Crucible to condemn the McCarthy witch hunts in the U.S in the early 1950’s. But it also emulates our (anti)-social media; the speed with which rumor and innuendo spreads and no one can stop it when a lie is told; the rigidity of opinion and the refusal of one side to acknowledge the other side or even consider that there might be another opinion. Frightening and still so applicable to today.

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