The audience advisory warning in the program should give you an idea of the serious and loopy mind we are dealing with in Izad Etemadi’s wonderful show: “Let Me Explain.”
“The play discusses racism, homophobia, terrorism, religion, and features a fare share of swearing. Viewers may experience therapeutic laughter and should not start the show with a full bladder. Recommended for age 13+ years. “
Izad (pronounced: eee-zad) Etemadi (pronounced: Eht- eh-mahdi with the accent on the last syllable), describes himself as a “queer Iranian-Canadian immigrant born in German (in a refugee camp). Much of his efforts growing up were spent in explaining how to pronounce his name to people; ‘where he REALLY came from;’ dealing with racist boorish teachers who thought he was a terrorist, and trying to fit in in a quiet way. He has given up trying to correct people who get his name wrong; who think it’s too hard to grasp; or perhaps who are fundamentally stupid and too lazy to try. This is regrettable. It’s his name. It’s important to get it right, and certainly when we learn what the name “Izad” means.
Izad Etemadi is an irreverent, funny, graceful comedian and performer in this case (he’s also a gifted actor), who takes his life experiences and finds the humour and truth in each moment. He knows how to read the room and engage immediately with those in the audience and include them in his observations. He is ably directed by Matt White who has a keen eye and a light touch in directing.
He was consumed with fear when he came out to his parents: what would these traditional folks think? Would his being gay be culturally unacceptable? Surprises abound in “Let Me Explain.” It’s a show filled with perceptions of attitudes towards immigrants; the difference between someone who says they are from Iran or from Persia; auditions, and proud parents who want what’s right for their kid.
For those who got his name wrong try and wrap your tongue around the Welsh town named:
Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch which sounds like so many sneezes, coughs and ‘horks’ to dislodge something deep in the throat. Izad Etemadi on the other hand is a name full of music. And the man who owns it is one talented comedic actor who has created in “Let Me Explain,” a gift of a show.
The Hamilton Fringe Festival and Green Light Arts Present:
Norm Foster is an equal opportunity writer, with a huge heart. He first wrote a play called: Jonas and Barry in the Home about two vastly different men who meet in a senior’s home and become friends. He says he had such fun writing it he wrote another play, Doris and Ivy in the Home, this time focusing on two women. The plays are not carbon copies of the other.
Doris and Ivy in the Home is about two women, who couldn’t be more different, but manage to find themselves living in Paradise Village, a retirement home in Alberta. Doris Mooney is a boisterous, fun-loving retired prison guard from Alberta. Ivy Hoffbauer is a disgraced former Olympic skier originally from Austria. These two women are as different as the day is long, but as always happens, life throws us a curve and we befriend people we never expected to get close to, just like Doris and Ivy.
Both women were married at one point. Doris stayed married to her husband but it seemed a loveless marriage until he died. Ivy married often and not successfully. Ivy is being pursued in the home by Arthur but she is not ready to accept his ardent advances, but they are friendly.
As with all his plays, Norm Foster sees the humour and humanity in the ordinary, easy-going situations in life. Doris, as played by Valerie Boyle is lively, irreverent, and sees humour in everything. Often the humour comes from Doris’s robust laugh at most things. As Ivy, Elva Mai Hoover is very proper almost stand-offish, except when having to correct Doris when she keeps thinking Ivy is from Germany and not Austria. Ivy is still smarting at the humiliation she endured at the Olympics when she had an accident on the run. She has never lived it down. So, yes, she’s a bit stand-offish. Both women form a bond that plays off the other. They find a common ground and appreciation of the other. As Arthur, Rob McClure is always smiling and pleasant. He is smitten by Ivy and gently but steadily pursues her.
The whole production is directed with impish delight by David Nairn. He has meticulously realized the humour in the play. For example, there is an extended scene with Doris and Ivy standing side by side looking off into the distance, observing a man and a woman ‘going at it’ in the bushes. Both are residents of the Seniors Home. Both Valerie Boyle as Doris and Elva Mai Hoover as Ivy watch in amazement, horror, disbelief and hilarity at the two in the distance. Boyle and Hoover react in unison and with little touches that add to the humour of the scene, all under the watchful eye of director David Nairn.
Beckie Morris has designed an imposing set of the patio of the Seniors Home, along with comfortable furniture. I did find it odd that there were no plants out there. Just a quibble. The costumes by Joanne Lee are comfortable and stylish for the three seniors, with the garb for Doris is more sporty and flowing.
Doris and Ivy in the Home is a sweet play about two characters you would never imagine would be friends, and when they do, it’s as natural as anything.
The Full Monty (the musical) is moving, lively and set in the late 1990s, a time that dwelt on what it was to be a “man” and a good father and the production is true to that notion. The cast is talented but I so wished the small band was not so over amplified that it drowned out the singers. Frustrating trying to make out the lyrics.
Background. This musical is based on the 1997 film that was set in Sheffield, England. For the purposes of the musical, the location was changed to Buffalo, New York
The Story. The musical is about six men who worked at the local steel mill but are now unemployed. It covers the trials and tribulations of being an unemployed man, trying to hold on to one’s self-respect; being a man, being a father and a good husband. Jerry is divorced and has joint custody of his son Nathan with his ex-wife Pam. But Jerry is behind in his child payments and might loose joint custody unless he gets the money quickly. Dave is Jerry’s best friend. He’s also unemployed, overweight and married to Georgie. Harold was in management and hides his unemployment from his hugely materialistic wife, Vickie.
When Jerry and Dave realize their working wives are eager to spend their hard earn money seeing a male strip show with the Chippendales, Jerry gets an idea. He decides to wrangle his friends and other men to do a strip show for money and go the ‘full monty’– fully naked. The money they will make will mean he can pay Pam his arears payments and still see Nathan regularly.
The Production and comment. Scott Penner has designed a simple set with a lazy-boy chair, some sports equipment at the back, two urinals on a wall stage left and pictures of buff men stage right. David Yazbeck, the composer-lyricist of the musical sets the tone and attitude at the get-go with the song “Scrap.” It is both a lament and a song of anger sung by the unemployed men about their lot in life; how their self-confidence is at an all-time-low and how they feel like ‘scrap’ that has been left behind.
Director/Choreographer, Julie Tomaino has deliberately set the musical at the time the film came out—late 1990s. She was unapologetic in focusing on the idea of masculinity and what is a man of the times. In our present day, very aware, dare one say, ‘woke’ world when the word ‘masculinity’ is always preceded by the word ‘toxic’, it’s fascinating and even touching watching these men go through such mood swings about their definition of a man, and they are failing because they are not making money and supporting their families. They turn down work such as working in a fast-food joint or stocking shelves in a supermarket because it’s ‘women’s work’. They feel inadequate sexually because they can’t financially provide for their family. Julie Tomaino has directed her cast to bring out the masculinity as well as the uncertainty of what that might mean at the time. The results are true. As Jerry, Gaelan Beatty is energetic, ‘macho’, irreverent, insecure and a loving father trying his best. Daniel Williston as Dave has sunk into a food-eating depression who has not had sex with his wife because he feels inadequate. Dave is also overweight and feels his caring wife Georgie (a lovely performance by Jamie McRoberts) could not possibly find him attractive.
David Yazbeck’s score runs the gamut from songs about self-worth (“Scrap”), a wife’s love of her husband (“Life with Harold), basketball (“Michael Jordan’s Ball”) so the would-be-strippers have some grace when disrobing, and a wonderful love song between two men (“You Walk with Me”). Yazbeck’s music is varied, melodic and evocative. The cast serve the music and ‘sell’ the songs with panache. As Jeanette, Donna Garner is sarcastic, laid-back, ironic and has seen it all. “Jeanette’s Showbiz Number” is just that—a litany of the woman’s experience dealing with difficult situations as she sings, “Things Could Be Better.” The show deals with the stereotypes of the times—men should be macho etc—and Black men are physically ideal. Gavin Hope plays Horse, a nickname that plays on a physical stereotype, and he sings “Big Black Man”—“There ain’t nothin in the world like a big Black Man.” Gavin Hope performs with enthusiasm and energy, but he really doesn’t have to work that hard to sell the song—the lyrics do it for him as do the assumptions and stereotype. Jacob MacInnis plays Malcolm, a man coming to grips with his sexuality, dealing with his suffocating, ill mother, and trying to cope with depression and feelings of inadequacy. But he finds his love with Ethan played well and with humour by Darren Burkett. Jacob MacInnis sings the achingly beautiful song “You Walk with Me” and it’s a poem of stillness, nuance and delicacy. Jacob MacInnis is one gifted actor.
Right from the beginning the covered band is so amplified that it’s drowning out the singers, and these folks singing the song are strong singers. I spend too much time thinking that if the volume on the band was lowered by a third, and lowered just a bit on the cast, one could actually hear the music and the lyrics clearly, and one’s ears wouldn’t hurt. Hmmmmm, all that time and money spent on building an original set, and good costumes (thanks Joyce Padua), and smart lighting (ditto Jareth Li), and what the audience has to listen to—the VOLUME—gets short shrift, if at all. Odd, that.
That aside, The Full Montyis an uplifting musical about men trying to cope in hard times; the women who love them; and the resilience of them all to find a way through. In this case it just happens to be stripping—going ‘the full monty.’
Deeply personal, moving, funny, revelatory and beautifully done.
12 Dinnersis described as “autobiographical.” So this play is part of actor-playwright Steve Ross’s story.
Over twelve-monthly dinners we see how Steve (Ben Skipper) interacts with his parents, Jim (Geoffrey Pounsett) and Bettye (Jane Spidell), they with him, and they with one another. Steve visits from the city. The parents live in the country. Jim is quiet and accommodating. He greets Steve at the door with handshake and a “how are you, old man?” No hug here, perhaps there is a reluctance to show emotion. Steve is pleasant, smiling and upbeat. Then Bettye enters and the mood seems to tense. Bettye is dour. She is critical of Steve for a variety of reasons. She flings quips, stinging comments and complaints almost in passing. He takes it with a smile, no sass and no backtalk, because one never knows what will send Bettye off again.
Over the course of the twelve dinners, we get the clear sense of what it must have been like in that marriage, in that family and for Steve. Bettye never met a positive statement she could not twist out of proportion so that she felt slighted. Either Jim was too silent and buried in his newspaper, ignoring her or Steve said something that offended or disappointed her. He was not the success she envisioned. We learn of her depression and reluctance to get proper help. And with every dinner Bettye gets more brittle, sullen and wounded; the facial expressions of hurt are chiseled on her face.
Theatre is ‘life lived on purpose.’ This is what it was like in that family over the years, shown to us over 12 dinners. It’s no wonder Steve only went to dinner there once a month; more would be debilitating. While watching the production, one wonders how much more the audience can take of this unfortunate woman’s negativity.
And then, just at the perfect point, playwright Steve Ross has his character Steve give ‘the speech.’ It’s ‘the speech’ the audience needs, that will have Steve explode (one imagines for the first time) with the truth about growing up lonely in that house and why; the truth about Bettye’s depression and his. The speech is like rain clearing away a debilitating, oppressive heat. It gives context to the family dynamic and now understanding about Bettye’s plight in life. After that, we look at her differently, this time with compassion and understanding. We look at them all in a different light.
Jan Alexandra Smith has directed a wonderful, detailed and subtly complex production. Darren Burkett has designed a set of a formal dining room table and credenza that holds the various dishes and cutlery for all those dinners. This family ‘dines’ (no other word for it) at the dining room table. In almost choreographed movement, Jan Alexandra Smith has each family member either putting the padding down first, then the formal table cloth and place mats over that, or putting down dishes with napkins, knives and forks. Dishes are taken off as well in a set, choreographed order. Eating and drinking is mimed.
The relationships of the characters are also beautifully established under the guiding vision of Jan Alexandra Smith. Because Bettye is so highly strung, father and son are watchful of her to ensure they are careful not to offend her. As Jim, Geoffrey Pounsett keeps his head down, his mouth shut and his reactions in control. Jim is quick to praise the food. He does not respond to a barb. Ben Skipper plays Steve and looks like Steve Ross. Skipper even assumes Steve Ross’ speaking cadences. But Ben Skipper is not giving an impersonation of Steve Ross, he is giving a performance of a character named Steve. As Steve, Ben Skipper is charming, eager to please, caring, funny, observant and often resigned. For all of Steve’s good nature, Ben Skipper lets loose with ‘the speech’ that is forceful, angry, urgent and yet loving. As Bettye, Jane Spidell is astonishing. There is not one shred of sentiment in this fierce, compelling performance. Spidell is not afraid to be unliked and ‘ugly’ as Bettye and she does it with tight body language, varying grimaces and perfectly placed zingers. Bettye carries a lot of baggage and resentment around with her. Both Bettye and Steve have depression. Both handle it in a different way.
A quibble; at the beginning of the play the music of the Beach Boys continued to play ‘under’ Steve’s first speech for several seconds. I hope this was just a glitch on opening night, but that music has to be cut off when Steve starts to speak. We need to hear every word without underscoring.
Steve Ross has written a play about a troubled family tangled up in the mother’s depression and unhappiness. Perhaps because of the generational stigma of mental illness, Bettye did not know how to help herself or why she should. Steve has inherited depression too only he knew how to get help and take care of himself. Steve Ross illuminates the generational divide between the way the Mother and the son sought help. And of course, 12 Dinners is about forgiveness and forcefully reaching out in love and compassion.
Porch View Dances (PVD): ‘Real People Dancing In Real Spaces’, conceived in 2012 by Karen Kaeja, is an annual award-winning community dance event that engages everyday people as creators, storytellers, and performers – many of whom have never danced before. Audience members travel through the neighbourhood to see new dance works created with professional choreographers performed by local residents on the front porches and lawns of their homes. The performance culminates in a Flock Landing at the local park, where audience members of all ages and mobility levels are invited to participate in the dance.
PVD celebrates the stories of people in a neighbourhood, taking dance out of the theatre and into our daily lives and sending the powerful message that art is for everyone.
For more information on bringing a site-specific dance to your community, please contact urban@kaeja.org.
July 15-27, 2024
12 Dinners
By Steve Ross
An autobiographical play about family, dinners, mental health and love.
I’m posting this here because I think the issue is important. More to follow.
Email from Guy Sprung:
“I am truly sorry and deeply ashamed as an Equity member that Guy Sprung has had to go through this.”
Diana Leblanc
Winner 2015 Governor General’s Performing Arts Award for Lifetime Artistic Achievement
Greetings.
You may be aware that I was forced to take legal action against my own association, Canadian Actor’s Equity Association, after it took away my right to work in theatre based on allegations that in an astonishing and unequivocal Québec Superior Court judgement were found to be “unjustifiable”.
Equity, by its own actions and inactions, gave me no choice but to initiate the court proceedings.
At its meeting, on June 25th, National Council received multiple requests urging it to accept its responsibilities and compensate me for my legal expenses. Requests that had been signed by a range of members of our association, including members of the Order of Canada, winners of the Governors General’s Award for Performing Arts, previous National Council Executive members, a winner of the Academy of Canadian Cinema Television’s Earle Grey Award for lifetime achievement and multiple Dora Award winners. National Council did not even bother to discuss the formal requests.
So, CAEA National Council has forced me to go back to court to seek damages and compensation.
I am asking for financial assistance to help me cover past and present legal costs. To this end I have started a Go Fund Me campaign at: https://gofund.me/513c17be.
More background on the allegations and court proceedings are detailed on the Go Fund Me site.
The March 15, 2024 QC Superior Court judgment is now a matter of public record and can be read in its entirety at:
If I had allowed the Equity judgement against me to go unchallenged, it would have had a far-reaching impact on director/playwright/actor relationships in theatres across Canada. If you care about Justice, if you care about respect for the work in a respectful working atmosphere in theatre rehearsals across our country, I urge you to visit the Québec Superior Court site.
Please circulate this email to as many of your own personal associates, friends and colleagues that might take an interest in helping me ensure CAEA respects its responsibilities to its Constitution and to all of its members with “equity.”
With immense gratitude,
Guy Sprung
“The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good (men) to do nothing,”
Three friends—Nathan, Simon and Sarah–decide to move from the noise and pollution of Toronto, to the fresh air and big sky of Saskatchewan, to begin their big adventure—to live and love polygamously and start a family. Their friend Jamie stayed behind and they miss Jamie something fierce. Simon, who has a knack of meeting and collecting new friends and forgetting everything else, meets an older couple, Will and Nancy, at the store and invites them home.
Will and Nancy appear to be straight-laced: couples should be married before children are born; being gay is a life-style choice etc. Although Will and Nancy are familiar with ‘edibles.’ Needless to say Nathan, Simon and Ella do some fancy maneuvering to hide their polygamous arrangement.
Justin Hay’s writing is fresh and the arrangement of the friends is handled with style and humour. I do find it odd that Will and Nancy would be enlightened about the joys of edibles but be in the dark about being gay being a life-style choice and not a biological assignment.
An adaptation of Toba Tek Singh by Saadat Hasan Manto
Co-directed by Deval Soni and Ethan Persyko
Light and projections by Abbey Kruse
Props and costumes by Puja Karira
Sound by Kabir Agarwal, Abhishek Sharma and Prakhar Sachdev
Cast: Sarabjeet Arora
Harsh Prajapati
Rahul Chawla
Shivam Sapra
Manik Arora
Parth Soni
Chhavi Disawar
Lakshita Khatter
Taranjot Bumrah
Surinder Arora
Divyanshu Mani Hans
Moving, vital, full of emotion and integrity.
I was invited to review Toba Tek Singh produced by Dramatic Jukebox for the Toronto Fringe. I was told it was about the partition of India and Pakistan in 1947. I thought that was so brave of any company to try and dramatize that story and definitely wanted to see it. I went on July 4th, the opening day.
It was set in an insane asylum with many and various characters in it. When they talked either to themselves or others, they spoke in a language I didn’t understand. I prevailed. There were surtitles projected on the curtain at the back of the stage that I think offered commentary (I saw the date 1947), but I couldn’t read anything because either the font was too small and the projections were fuzzy or the font was larger but still fuzzy. Also, the projection was up for about six seconds when it would have been better to project them for 15-20 seconds. This went on for about 48 minutes of the 60 minutes of the show. Then each actor (there are 11 of them) came forward and gave a monologue in English about the immigrant experience, feeling lost and without a home, trying to find a home in which to belong.
I wrote to the person who invited me saying I was sorry I couldn’t review the show because I didn’t understand the language for most of it and could not read the surtitles. I still thought it was a worthy subject.
The woman wrote back to apologize. It was the first time the company had used surtitles. The company listened to the comments including mine and worked hard to fix the surtitles problem. They now used a larger font that was in sharper focus. They also added more surtitles for more context. The woman explained that they performed the show mainly in Hindi and Punjabi because they could not attain the same emotion in English. Fair enough. I bought a ticket to see the show again. The difference in performances was astonishing.
When I saw the show again: A clear projection indicated 15th August, 1947 in a bold, large font followed by: “The British bid farewell to India after their 200-year-rule. India is split into two separate entities, India and Pakistan. All Hindus and Sikhs had to go to India and the Muslims to Pakistan…”
Characters wandered on stage, looking dazed and confused, carrying their worldly possessions in a cardboard box or a suitcase if they were lucky. A woman in a sari entered, afraid of any man who came near her. Another person cleared and cleaned the floor as his portion of space. These were also in a way the people of the asylum. Even those people were to be separated. Some people were sent hundreds of miles away from their homes to a new home where they did not speak the language.
A man with a large stick seemed to be one of the guards of the asylum. He wore a white robe on which were large words in red paint?/blood? At the bottom of his robe was the word “Help” in red. That was dramatic. Sometimes criminals were put in the asylum along with those who were mentally ill. It was not a safe space.
The main languages were still Hindi and Punjabi, but there were more surtitles with much more context that illuminated the confusion these people felt at being wrenched from their homes to live in a strange place; if they lived in Lahore they wondered where that now was? “Hindustan or Pakistan?” One man didn’t know where he was so he decided to live in a tree—at the top of a ladder with an ornate rope configuration at the top. One was never in doubt of the emotional cost of this division because the acting was so vivid.
In the end Sarabjeet Arora, who played an man who was considered crazy but often spoke wisdom about the situation, came forward and spoke in English. He spoke of his parents who were very young when they experienced partition. He talked of feeling lost, displace and without a sense of home. Hs speech was heart-felt, eloquent and moving.
Toba Tek Singh is a stunning piece of theatre about a terrible time in history and how it affected so many people with just a line drawn through a country, displacing hundreds of thousands. I so appreciated the company’s efforts to make this story clear for their audiences by improving the fonts, sharpness of focus and the increase in the commentary. I also respected their need to be true to their story and convictions by telling it mainly in Hindi and Punjabi. It was very clear. Bravo. I’m glad I saw it again.
Played at Theatre Aquarius, Hamilton, Ont. June 21-23, 2024. Produced by Walter Schroeder and Terra Bruce Productions.
Book by Steve Cochrane
Based on an original concept by Walter Schroeder
Directed by Courtney Brown
Choreographed by Victoria Wells-Smith
Music direction arrangements, orchestrations and additional music by Bill Brennan
Set by Brian Dudkiewicz
Costumes by Sara Hodder
Lighting by Leigh Ann Vardy
Projections by Amelia Scott
Sound by Kate De Lorme
This show was so dire it does not deserve a review, but the producers want one, so here it is.
From the program note from the producer: Bob Hallett. “During those long and confusing months of the pandemic, prevented from playing and performing, we resolved to use our time wisely, by devoting the time instead to creation.
It was in those dreary weeks (note: officially the COVID-19 pandemic lasted from March 20, 2020-to Jan, 2023) that our founder Walter Schroeder conceived of a show build around the classic hymns of the 50s and 60s the golden age of music…
We conceived of a story build around an Irish priest (Father Paul Barry), a flawed but good man, wo came to the new world to escape his past, only to find both love and a crisis of conscience.
Playwright Steve Cochrane embraced the challenge, and over many drafts, and rewrites and workshops the show slowly became something more, the story of a young couple drawn together by love but pulled apart by the turmoil of the times. New musicals are complex and complicated creations, and this one spans countries and decades, following our lovers as their lives reflect the world changing around them…”
A further program note from Courtney Brown, the director: “In 2021 I was asked to direct a new show for Terra Bruce Productions. The show was still to be written, but the desire was that it contain a priest, a rock star, a love interest and that it was set in America. Oh! And that it must contain a list of songs, hymnals to gospel to rock and roll written between 1955 and 1984. Steve (Cochrane the playwright) took those puzzle pieces and over the past few years has woven them into this beautiful story you are here to see, the world premiere of An American Hymnal.
Somewhere early in my conversations with Steve we started circling around the notion of forgiveness—and how the world seems to have turned its back on the idea lately. What does it mean to forgive someone? How do you truly forgive yourself? When Beau (Dixon, listed as the dramaturge) came aboard this year another question began to emerge, how is forgiveness related to love?
So many folks along the way have brought forward the idea of second chances. When they happen, and they are a rare gift, how do you open your heart and embrace them? ….
I hope this production inspires you to examine those in your life who may need some forgiveness. I hope it helps you identify those rare second chances, should they come your way and that you have the courage to be open to them.”
Where to begin? With all the constant additions, changes, and other ideas surrounding An American Hymnalit’s obvious no one actually knew what they were doing in ‘creating’ this show. Is it about an Irish priest? A love story? Forgiveness? Second chances? All of these? You would hardly know from Steve Cochrane’s confusing, vague, badly written, deeply flawed book of the musical. Characters are rarely developed or relationships established. Information plops down into the plotline without support or reason. And why create yet another jukebox musical (a musical with the music that already exists elsewhere—think Mamma Mia!) based on classic hymns when they do so little for the plot, atmosphere, idea? Did anyone tell anyone that these hymns are not mainly Catholic. Many are African-American spirituals.
Connor Lucas plays Father Paul Barry around whom this show is based. Connor Lucas has a strong voice but speaks in a monotoned mumble. But who really is Father Paul Barry? He drinks a lot. Why? We have to guess. He was raised by the priests in his local parish church in Ireland but then sailed to New York and then moved to Chicago. We barely know why. His mother is a haunting presence and we find out late in the show, why. He looks wistfully at a young woman, Diana Sprewell (a power-house Ruth Acheampong), a terrific singer and we are supposed to assume a relationship because again, Steve Cochrane does not do the work to clearly, firmly establish that. Diana is a sweet woman until she is abused by a man and that turns her bitter instantly. She marries Floyd Landry (a fine performance by Matthew G. Brown), also initially a sweet man who on Diana’s urging without reason or subtext then says, “Burn this country down.” Really? None of this is supported? It’s basic playwrighting and that seems to be a mystery to Steve Cochrane.
Director Courtney Brown’s program note also betrays an ignorance of musicals, musical history etc. Second chances are rare? Really? Are you kidding? Second chances are the keynote of musicals: Gypsy, Sweeney Todd, A Little Night Music, Carousel, My Fair Lady, Come from Away, South Pacific, The Sound of Music, Mamma Mia!, Priscilla Queen of the Desert. And on and on.
And Courtney Brown’s direction is no better. Underwhelming and unimaginative. She seems more concerned with having a dazzling backdrop (kudos to Amelia Scott for her projections) than showing an ability to establish a scene or relationships.
When one looks in the program for any hint that Steve Cochrane and Courtney Brown know anything about playwrighting/musicals (in Cochrane’s case) or directing musicals in Brown’s case, one finds precious little information by way of bone fide credits in these artforms. That should be a clue we are in trouble.
This country is loaded with artists who know the musical theatre form down to their toes. They know how to compose them, write them and direct them. To continue to go unerringly to hire people who have no clue about the artform says everything about Terra Bruce Productions. And how telling that producer Walter Schroeder is listed last in the program in bold letters as “base on an original concept by Walter Schroeder.” An American Hymnal. The show is neither original not an original concept. It’s a juke-box musical, and a bad one at that.
The last three musicals that Terra Bruce Productions has brought to the Toronto area have been dire (Let’s Dance—The Musical; The Wild Rovers; An American Hymnal). And that is unforgivable. Perhaps the company should change its name to Terra Bull Productions.
Intensely emotional. A bitter-sweet, gentle play about love and war.
The Story.It’s 1920, the day before Mary’s wedding. She dreams of a time a few years before, of a thunderstorm and the first time she met and probably fell in love with Charlie, a young man about her age. Because of the thunderstorm, Mary found shelter in a barn. There she saw Charlie and his horse. Charlie was cowering in fear of the thunder. He still found the ability to calm his also terrified horse. Mary calms Charlie as well after they introduce themselves. She has recently arrived from England with her parents. Charlie is a local farm boy in the prairies. When the storm passes Charlie returns to his usual self. He offers Mary a ride home on his horse. Her mother is not happy about Mary meeting what she describes ‘as a dirty farm boy.’ A friendship forms between the two young people and that slowly grows into love.
World War I is raging in Europe. When Canada joins the war effort Charlie feels it’s his duty to sign up. Mary is upset by this. They have a fight and Charlie goes off to war without Mary saying goodbye to him, but Charlie writes her the most personal letters. Their love grows deeper and it leads up to the day before Mary’s wedding.
The Production and comment. William Chesney has designed a multi-leveled set with planks here and there that could be a barn or the trenches etc. Alex Amini has designed the costumes that are simple and effective. Charlie (Daniel Reale) wears a shirt, suspenders and army pants and boots. Mary (Evelyn Wiebe) is dressed in what could be a white nightgown or a long dress. Tim Lindsay’s soundscape captures the nearing thunder storm, and its receding. It could be the bombs of the war as well. So that melding of the technical aspects of the production beautifully establishes the world of
Stephen Massicotte has written an ache of a play about an enduring love, compassion, friendship, doing one’s duty and the horrors of war. It’s about how differences don’t matter when the similarities are so aligned, as Mary’s and Charlie’s are. Her mother is a snob when she refers to Charlie as ‘that dirty farm boy.’ Mary ignores it. She is so eager to see him again as he is eager to see her again after that first meeting.
As Mary, Evelyn Wiebe is forthright, confident and sweet. She has a consistent English accent that is endearing. She is compassionate about Charlie’s fear of thunder and charmed by him. As Charlie Daniel Reale is initially our narrator. He tells us the year and what will happen the next day. But first he tells us it’s the day before Mary’s wedding and she is dreaming of everything that leads up to this moment.
When Charlie is properly introduced to us Daniel Reale as Charlie is as shy as Mary is confident—one imagines her snob mother might have tried to instill that attitude in her young daughter, but Mary is also compassionate and understanding. Charlie has the confidence of place. He was born on the prairies and is confident with horses. He can show Mary his confidence and compassion in his own way. The awkwardness they both initially have with each other grows into easy love, affection and trust. Charlie is willing to go into strange territory for Mary, having tea at her house for example; dancing as well. Daniel Reale is almost awkward around Mary, he likes her so much but is unsure it will be returned. But he shines in the scenes in the war. He is terrified, thrilled, excited and compelling. Evelyn Wiebe also has many emotional moments which are heart-squeezing.
Director Derek Ritschel has realized the beating heart of the piece, the awkwardness and intensity of first love. This is also one of the most emotional rendering of the play that I’ve seen. Very moving. Bring Kleenex.
