Search: Dark Heart

Confederation and Riel 1861-1870

At the Young Centre for the Performing Arts, Distillery District, Toronto, Ont.

Written and Co-directed by Michael Hollingsworth
Co-directed by Deanne Taylor
Lighting by Andrew Dollar
Costumes by Astrid Janson and Melanie McNeill
Wigs by Alice Norton
Sound and additional music by Richard Feren
Props and video drawing by Brad Harley
Music by Brent Snyder
Cast: Kevin Bundy
Greg Campbell
Richard Alan Campbell
Jamie Cavanagh
Richard Clarkin
Kat Letwin
Linda Prystawska
Michaela Washburn

The nefarious goings on in Canadian history around Louis Riel, Confederation and the scandals created by John A. Macdonald get the VideoCabaret treatment and it’s a hoot.

Michael Hollingsworth and co-creator Deanne Taylor created VideoCabaret to tell Canada’s history in a zippy, punchy, irreverent way for folks brought up on TV and rock and roll. The latest segment is the story of Canada and confederation and in two parts.

The Stories:

Part I is Confederation and Riel 1861-1870 and Part II is Scandal and Rebellion, 1871-1885.

These two segments are part of a larger history of Canada called The History of the Village of the Small Huts from its very beginnings right up to modern times.

Confederation and Riel 1861-1870

John A. Macdonald and Georges Etiennes-Cartier, co-premiers of The Canadas, which at that time were Ontario and Quebec. They want more territory and power and use any means to get it.

Louis Riel is a Metis studying for the priesthood. But when he sees that his people and their land in Manitoba are threatened by the Americans and also by Macdonald and company, he forgets his studies to lead his people to defend their land and rights. Riel becomes a formidable leader and spokesperson with the government. Thus he is a threat to Macdonald who uses underhanded means to get rid of Riel.

Scandal and Rebellion 1871-1885.

Macdonald, now Prime Minister, continues to make questionable deals. He woos British Columbia into Confederation by promising them a railway. There’s a scandal regarding contracts for the railway being swapped for campaign contributions. Macdonald is caught in the lie and deposed. Riel is still around and the elected member of Manitoba but is prevented from taking his seat in parliament. Matters escalate and Riel has to flee to Montana for his life. It’s a picture of fortunes that rise and fall as the scandals escalate. As committed and noble his intentions were, it ends badly for Louis Riel. John A. Macdonald doesn’t seem to realize how bad anything is because he’s mainly drinking his days away.

The Productions. VideoCabaret has a particular style in presenting its shows. The action takes place in a black box (like a television) with a few levels to it. Scenes are no more than one minute or less so all the information, tone, attitudes etc. have to be packed in with wit, irony and sarcasm and still tell the story in a way that grabs the audience. Deliberately cheesy music underscores each scene (as in old TV shows) and music plays during the blackouts that separate scenes. The makeup, wigs, costumes and props are exaggerated in design and size. For example, John A. Macdonald’s bottle, from which he guzzles his liquor, is as long as his arm. Each of the eight actors in the cast plays multiple parts. They change costumes, wigs and props off stage in the blink of an eye.

The whole cast is wonderfully accomplished with their own quirks and sensibilities but to give you a taste: Richard Clarkin plays John A. Macdonald with a smirk and a subtle slur to the words because of course John A. was a drunk.

Linda Prystawska is an attentive Lady Agnes Macdonald who tries to take the bottle away from her drunken husband; She also plays a flirty woman on the make, and some male politicians with total believability.

Michaela Washburn plays Louis Riel with a curvy wig and a moustache and is so regal, gentlemanly, and controlled you have nothing but admiration for the character.

While the cast is wonderful the masters of ceremonies are writer Michael Hollingsworth who wrote the cycle of plays and his partner Deanne Taylor who co-directs them. Together they have provided the funniest, best history lesson about this country you will ever have.

Comment. I’ve seen all the components of The History of the Village of the Small Huts configured in various ways and I never get tired of seeing this company because playwright and co-director, Michael Hollingsworth, has such a sharp eye for the focus of a scene and what he wants to convey in it. He sees the mendacity, corruption, arrogance, and dishonesty in the politicians, and uses the sharpest wit to bring that out. Sometimes it’s a subtle reaction from a character to something startling, just as the lights are going down, that adds that final zing. Hollingsworth in his plays is the best chronicler of the story of Canada you will find.

Soulpepper presents VideoCabaret

Plays until August 19, 2017.

www.soulpepper.ca

Vimy

At the Young Centre for the Performing Arts, Distillery District, Toronto, Ont.

Written by Vern Thiessen
Directed by Diana Leblanc
Set by Astrid Janson
Costumes by Shannon Lea Doyle
Lighting by André du Toit
Sound by John Gzowski
Co-sound designer, Deanna Choi
Cast: Sébastien Bertrand
Andrew Chown
Tim Dowler-Coltman
Wesley French
Christine Horne
TJ Riley

Playwright Vern Thiessen and director Diana Leblanc have created a gripping, moving production about the terrible effects of war, in particular the Battle of Vimy Ridge.

The Story. In his program note playwright Vern Thiessen says Vimy is not about war. It’s about the relationships of four men, who are a cross-section of Canada, who took part in the Battle of Vimy Ridge in WWI. One is a French Canadian, is an aboriginal from Winnipeg, two are friends who are gay but one of them does not acknowledge it. There is a nurse named Claire and her boyfriend Will. I don’t think it’s simplistic for Thiessen to have a representative of various groups of Canada to represent the country’s diversity. It’s a valid choice. And of course at its heart Vimy is about the war and what it does to young men and women who just want to do right by their country.

The Production. Four men lay in a hospital with their various injuries, both physical and mental from the Battle of Vimy Ridge. Jean-Pau Bert (Sébastien Bertrand) is shattered with shell-shock. He’s been gassed. Initially he doesn’t speak, but when he is shown kindness by a nurse named Clare (Christine Horne) he begins to speak to her, in French, which eventually segues to English. Mike (Wesley French) is from the First Nations. He’s been gassed and his breathing is terribly affected. He feels slighted by the rest of the men and seems to be ready for a fight if he’s looked at strangely. Will (JT Riley) has been shot up. Sid (Tim Dowler-Coltman) has also been shot up. His eyes are covered to protect them from further damage. Sid knows Will but Will ignores him. They both are suppressing a secret that is heartbreaking.

Clare is their Canadian nurse and Laurie (Andrew Chown) is her Canadian boyfriend who enlists.

We learn of their histories, how they are coping, how they hope to be shipped home soon because of their wounds. They talk of their injuries and what happened. The play flits back and forth in time from before some joined up to the present, but we are never in doubt as to where we are.

Gradually Vern Thiessen leads up to what led them to that hospital, The Battle of Vimy Ridge and the horrible odds that were against these young men when they were ordered to go to the top and take it. The men count down the hours to the beginning of the battle.

It is very gripping playwriting because establishing their stories is more important than the battle, which happens in the last quarter of the play.

The cast is exemplary. Relationships are created and developed with meticulous attention to detail. Sébastien Bertrand, as Jean-Paul Bert, is skittish, haunted and almost paralyzed with the shock of the war. As Sid, Tim Dowler-Coltman is a strapping man with a sense of the sensitivity of Sid. Sid longs for Will’s friendship but is rebuffed. But in their earlier time there is a tenderness to their friendship. Will hides a secret as Sid does, but Will struggles with his secret. He knows he is being cruel; he realizes the cost too late. As Will, JT Riley infuses his characterization with the subtlest of details. There is nothing cut and dried in this macho performance. As Laurie, Andrew Chown is all bravado and swagger to show off to Clare, his girlfriend. Christine Horne plays Clare with professionalism to try and hide how she knows how damaged these men are, and that some will not be going home. Her reaction to some bad news squeezes the heart.

Diana Leblanc directed this wonderful production with the intent of showing the stark, primitive surroundings these men had to cope with and the effect on them. Their lives in the hospital are far away to some extent from the noise and terror of the war. But there is always a hint of the awful outside and the war in this thoughtful production. Initially we hear the delicate tapping of the rain on the roof. Much is made of the resulting mud, in which a man could drown in both the rain and the mud. Later when the rain subsides, we hear birds. It’s almost as if one can’t give over to the peace of the quiet. One is always waiting for the blast of a bomb.

The set by Astrid Janson has the men in the hospital sleeping on slabs of wood, not beds, to show how everything in their lives is uncomfortable. A mist hangs in the air suggesting constant rain or gas floating to suffocate them. Shannon Lea Doyle’s costumes are stuffy soldier’s uniforms, worn boots, dirty socks. Clare’s uniform is bloody from tending to wounded soldiers. André du Toit’s lighting is eerie, constantly dark and oppressive to the men who are wounded.

The battle of Vimy Ridge is gripping as it gradually builds and builds in intensity to the inevitable.

Comment. The Battle of Vimy Ridge was more than 100 years ago. Does it have relevance to us today? On the basis of the play and this stunning production, I say definitely yes. Thiessen’s play has put us in the world of the story, of war, talking about the toll it took on these young men and women. This is a war these men thought was justified. They were defending freedom for their country and felt it their duty to sign up.

They suffered more with that war than any other since because it was so primitive and the conditions were hideous: the mud and rain could kill you; there was gas and had little protection from it; they were outnumbered but were still sent in to fight.

On viewing Vimy you are put in that terrible world even though it is far and away from ours and because we can understand the realities of all those characters, I think that makes it relevant.

In a way, it’s not about war as Thiessen says, but about the relationships these men had to each other; the slights they endured, the loneliness, the realization that they were pawns; that war was futile and brutal. You feel what these people experienced because you are put in that world momentarily.

Produced by Soulpepper Theatre Company

Plays until Aug. 5, 2017.

www.soulpepper.ca

{ 0 comments }

At the Studio Theatre, Stratford Festival, Stratford, Ont.

Written by Kate Hennig
Directed by Alan Dilworth
Designed by Yannik Larivée
Lighting by Kimberly Purtell
Sound by Alexander MacSween
Cast: Nigel Bennett
Laura Condlln
Sara Farb
Brad Hodder
Yanna McIntosh
André Morin
Bahia Watson

An intriguing continuation to Kate Hennig’s trilogy of plays about the Tudors. Alas I found Bahia Watson’s delivery as Bess to be too rapid fire with little heart, mind and nuance.

The Story. This is the second of three plays about The Tudors. Last year we saw The Last Wife, about Katherine Parr, the last wife of Henry VIII and his two daughters, Elizabeth (Bess) and Mary.

The Virgin Trial is about the political and sexual intrigue surrounding Princess Elizabeth referred to as Bess, who is now 15 and whip smart politically—she was well taught. Bess may or may not be romantically involved with Thom, the Lord High Admiral and husband to her step-mother, Katherine Parr. Bess flirts with Thom and he returns the attention. There is also the fact that Thom might be involved in a plot to overthrow the government. So Bess is summoned to be interviewed about this by Ted, the Lord Protector to Edward VI, Elizabeth’s brother. Ted is also Thom’s brother. Matters get a bit sticky with all this intrigue. Bess is desperate to keep her name pristine, so even for one so young she is wily in manoeuvring her way around court and interrogation.

The Production. As with The Last Wife, The Virgin Trial takes place in the time of the Tudors but is performed in modern dress and everything else: language, attitudes and themes, are contemporary.

Yannik Larivée’s set is simple and spare. A curtain hangs upstage and depending on Kimberly Purtell’s lighting we can either see through it to view what’s on the other side or the curtain is dark and we see nothing on the other side. There is a wood rectangular table with two chairs, one on either side of the width of it.

Bess (Bahia Watson) sits at the table. Her hair is pulled back in a tight formation. She wears a colourful dress appropriate for a fifteen-year-old, and flat shoes. Her hands are folded in her lap. She waits.

Eleanor, a lady of the court, arrives and places some files on the table with a sense of declaration. As played by Yanna McIntosh, Eleanor is irritated. She has a tight look on her face. She wears a black form-fitting coat, under which is a skirt (?) black tights and thigh-high boots with stiletto heels. This woman is formidable. She flips open a writing pad and flicks a ballpoint pen to get the tip to write. She asks Bess questions with an edge. Bess wants some tea. Eleanor says they only have water. This is a battle of wills between two strong women.

Bess of course is to the manor born. She was primed in court by her father, Henry VIII and her stepmother Katherine Parr. As Bess, Bahia Watson has bearing and the attitude of one born into royalty. She has that smugness of a teenager who has a sense of entitlement. She enunciates her words crisply. It’s just that I don’t believe a word she says. Her dialogue is given in a staccato rapid fire like a machine gun, without variation in tone, pace or nuance. Everybody around her is watchful, reactive, listens, hears and assesses. You can see it in their eyes and faces. Bahia Watson focuses on who is talking but every reply is a response and not quite a true reaction to what is being said or thrown at her. While listening her face is a blank. Perhaps this is how we are to believe a royal behaves? But does it not follow the others at court would do the same?

In contrast, Yanna McIntosh as Eleanor is imperious, cold, formidable and quietly threatening. Just with a flick of her eyes you can see the brains working, assessing. Formidable in a different way is Nigel Bennett, the Protector of Edward VI and the interrogator of Bess. He is jokey, quietly supportive, and lethal when he goes in for the kill with Bess. He knows how to keep his head, both literally and figuratively. He is also ruthless. He orders people who work for Bess to be tortured and he seems to relish it.

As Mary, Sarah Farb is wonderfully calculating and cool. She is perpetually bored with what is going on but knows how to play the game, and certainly helps Bess when she needs it most. As before, it’s directed with efficiency and care by Alan Dilworth.

With any good mystery we wonder will Bess be broken and bested by Ted and Eleanor who appear to be more ruthless and wily that Bess is, or are they. It’s fascinating watching as the characters shift and manoeuvre and manipulate.

Comment. Playwright Kate Hennig is a wonderful, perceptive, vibrant writer. She uses Bess’s story to comment on such contemporary subjects as consent, coercion, political will and manoeuvring. And Hennig is such a gifted writer that she has fashioned The Virgin Trial like a political thriller and a mystery. And while I do have problems with Bahia Watson as Bess, others might not. Acting is such a personal thing. Therefore I am recommending The Virgin Trial because it’s a splendid play and production

Produced by the Stratford Festival.

Began: June 7, 2017.
Saw it: July 18, 2017.
Closes: Sept. 23, 2017.
Cast: 7; 3 men, 4 women
Running Time: 2 hours 20 minutes approx.

www.stratfordfestival.ca

{ 0 comments }

Two classics at the Stratford Festival about lust, desire and murder.

The Changeling

At the Tom Patterson Theatre, Stratford Festival, Stratford, Ont.

Written Thomas Middleton and William Rowley
Directed by Jackie Maxwell
Set by Camellia Koo
Costumes by Judith Bowden
Lighting by Bonnie Beecher
Sound and composition by Debashis Sinha
Movement by Valerie Moore
Cast: Rodrigo Beilfuss
Tim Campbell
Ben Carlson
David Collings
Mikaela Davies
Ijeoma Emesowam
Jacklyn Francis
Jessica B. Hill
Zara Jestadt
Josh Johnston
Qasim Khan
Robert King
Josue Laboucane
Cyrus Lane
Mike Nadajewski
Gareth Potter
Michael Spencer Davis
Rylan Wilkie

A bracing, compelling production of and rip-roaring play.

The Story. The Changeling was written by Thomas Middleton and William Rowley about 1622. It’s about lust, desire and murder. Director Jackie Maxwell has updated this to take place in Spain between 1936 and 1939 during the Spanish Civil War.

A nobleman named Alsemero has fallen in love with Beatrice-Joanna, and she with him. But her father has promised her to another man. Beatrice-Joanna is loved from afar by her father’s servant, De Flores. She knows he loves her but loathes him, first because he’s ugly, and second because she just hates him. But she ever resourceful and wanting what she wants, Beatrice-Joanna convinces De Flores to solve her problem, so De Flores kills the other guy. Beatrice-Joanna marries Alsemero, but of course De Flores wants payback.This is where things get messy.

The Production. The production works beautifully by updating it, because of course, name me a time in which lust, desire and murder aren’t timely. You have a time of uncertainty because of the Spanish Civil War and of Franco’s military presence. There is a scene in which a giant puppet figure of Franco, with his moving hands, walks through crowds on stage. Impressive. Characters in military uniforms wander around scene giving a sense of being watched.

It’s Spain so that sense of heat and heightened emotions are present as well. And there are enough weird things in real life where we know of people who coerce others into doing nasty things to get their way. It’s that whole thing of lust and passion and not thinking straight. It’s not just concerning Beatrice-Joanna. It also consumes De Flores. Under the best of times he is a clear-thinking opportunist. He is a hard-edged, bitter man. And when he gets Beatrice-Joanna to even look at him, let alone ask him to do this ‘little’ thing for her, he’s gung ho. Also the sex between them is powerful so Beatrice-Joanna is at once repelled but also enticed. I just love that panting helplessness between the two of them.

In Camellia Koo’s set here are four archways on steel rods across the stage of the Tom Patterson Theatre. At first I think this might be problematic because often we are looking through the steel rods to see the characters on the other side of the stage. But in a way, that obstruction works for the secrecy and intrigue of the piece. Judith Bowden’s costumes are equally impressive. The men are in well-tailored suites often in light fabric as befitting a hot country. The dress for Beatrice-Joanna is form-fitting and flowing at the same time.

Jackie Maxwell has directed a production that is eerie in atmosphere and brimming with seething passion. The chemistry between De Flores and Beatrice-Joanna is that mix of revulsion and then a hopeless lust. Beatrice-Joanna is played by Mikaela Davies. She is confident, spoiled, seductive, coy and dangerous in her flirting. De Flores is played by Ben Carlson. This is a powerhouse actor. He is fastidious in the details of his character—De Flores is efficient, angry because of how he is treated by Beatrice-Joanna but hopelessly attracted to her against his better judgement. When they rage at each other, he is fairly bites off his words. The audience is just swept along with all this intrigue and bubbling emotions.

Comment. A terrific production that bubbles with intrigue, heightened emotions and the breathlessness of desire.

Bakkhai

At the Tom Patterson Theatre, Stratford Festival, Stratford, Ont.

Written by Euripides
Adapted by Anne Carson in a new translation.
Directed by Jillian Keiley
Designed by Shawn Kerwin
Lighting by Cimmeron Meyer
Composed by Veda Hille
Sound by Don Ellis
Intimacy choreographer, Tonia Sina
Cast: Graham Abbey
Sarah Afful
Nigel Bennett
Jasmine Chen
Laura Condlln
Rosemary Dunsmore
Mac Fyfe
Brad Hodder
Gordon S. Miller
Andre Morin
Lucy Peacock
E.B. Smith
Quelema Sparrow
Diana Tso
Bahia Watson

A production in which the director has obscured the play with her directorial excesses and not allowed the play to speak for itself.

The Story. A story about lust, desire and murder, sort of a theme with these two plays. Bakkhai was written by Euripides about 2500 years ago and adapted by Anne Carson giving it a contemporary feel to it.

Pentheus is the King of Thebes. He’s upset that many of the women of the city have come under the spell of Dionysus, the god of wine, sexual liberation and hedonism. The women have left the confines of their homes and husbands to follow the ways of Dionysus. Pentheus declares war on such behaviour. He even criticizes Dionysus and questions if he is a god or not.

Dionysus tricks Pentheus into dressing as a woman and spying on this group of women in the forest, just so he can get a good idea of the kind of behaviour to which he is objecting. Dionysus gets the last laugh. The women in the forest see a stranger looking at them (never mind in drag and a lousy wig) and they attack him and rip him to shreds, not knowing it was Pentheus. This was particularly brutal because one of the women ripping him to shreds was his own mother Agave. The message is clear: don’t mess with the gods or they will get you.

The Production. You would think that with all this heightened emotion in the play, the production would have captured it. But alas, no.

It’s directed by Jillian Keiley. When she is creating her own productions of original plays created with her own company, Artistic Fraud, she’s terrific. I think of such wonderful work as Oil and Water and The Colony of Unrequited Dreams, as beautiful examples of this cohesive effort. She has created a structured way of moving, involving lights, sound, music, sets and sound etc. to work for the whole idea of the show.

But when a story already exists as Bakkhai does along with As You Like It, last year at Stratford and The Diary of Anne Frank, the year before that, then her structured techniques and ‘concept’ don’t work, try as she does to force them on the story. That’s what we have here.

Shawn Kerwin’s evocative set design, which could be the suggestion of genitalia, and her free-flowing costumes for the women and Dionysius, and a suit for Pentheus work nicely.

Cimmeron Meyer’s lighting is initially impressive and atmospheric. I say ‘initially’ impressive because then the lighting seems to take on a life of its own. The Bakkhai (Chorus) are flashed with dazzling light, then dappled with it so that the Bakkhai as people are unrecognizable. The lighting effect seems to be all here, and not illuminating the Bakkhai for us to see them.

Veda Hille has composed an almost pop-music sounding score for the Bakkhai with lots of percussion and throbbing sounds. One of the many problems is that with all that ambient sound the words the Bakkhai sing are often unintelligible. Considering the Bakkhai comment on the play and their words are important, not being able to actually hear them is not a good thing.

There’s so much swaying and writhing of the Bakkhai to form pretty images it often doesn’t serve the story. Interestingly when a character is on stage alone with only the words to say, this is when Jillian Keiley cannot upstage the scene with visual stuff or cluttered sound. It’s almost as if the actors are left to their own devices and this is where the production shines because this is a cast of accomplished actors.

E.B. Smith as the Herdsman is quite emotional describing seeing the women on a mountain. Gordon S. Miller as Pentheus is hot-headed and short-tempered but easily seduced by Dionysus. And I mean that both literally and figuratively. Tonia Sina is listed as an Intimacy choreographer to help in ‘creating’ orgasms. Pity no one from this production saw John Neumeier’s erotic production of A Streetcar Named Desire for the National Ballet. Mr. Neumeier is known simply as a choreographer.

Mac Fyfe as Dionysus is sensual, seductive and almost androgynous which makes him even more mysterious. Also stellar is Lucy Peacock as Agave, certainly when she rushes on, in a frenzy with the head of her dead son (Pentheus), and she isn’t aware it’s him.

Agave arrives with his head in a dark plastic bag she just seems to have found on the way down the mountain of hedonism. She pulls out the head, seemingly wrapped is some blond curly stuff. It certainly does not look like the wig that Pentheus wore to spy on the women so confusion is justified. Surely when his head was ripped off the wig would have come off too. That whole thing seems a bit silly.

What isn’t silly is Lucy Peacock’s gripping, emotional performance. When she is forced to strip off her flowing robes and put on her confining girdle and then her form-fitting tight clothing she was used to wearing she then becomes a woman again confined to a rigid code (smart touch by Jillian Keiley here and Shawn Kerwin). Her grief at what she’s done is heart-squeezing.

Good acting aside, this production is a disappointment.

Comment. A clue to the initial problem lies in Jillian Keiley’s program note. She says that she thought Bakkhai was a feminist tract and forced this concept on the production, until Anne Carson told her that was not the case. Keiley then changed her idea to something else and said she tried to ‘force’ that concept on the production and that failed. Then she decided to let the play speak for itself and all sorts of themes appeared! What an idea: “When in doubt, read the play for the clues, information, instructions about what it’s about!” But then there is Keiley’s need to ‘force’ all the other stuff on the production.

It seems that Jillian Keiley is so intent on forcing her concept on a play that she can’t see it won’t/can’t support the concept. If you don’t trust the material to speak for itself (with mindful direction) then you shouldn’t direct the play. Frustrating.

The Changeling plays at the Stratford Festival until Sept. 23.

Bakkhai plays at the Stratford Festival also until Sept. 23.

www.stratfordfestival.ca

{ 1 comment }

At the Streetcar Crowsnest, Toronto, Ont.

By Emil Sher
Based on the book by Ian Brown
Directed by Chris Abraham
Choreographers, Monica Dottor, Chris Abraham
Set and Costumes by Shannon Lea Doyle
Lighting by André du Toit, Kimberly Purtell
Video designer, Remington North
Sound by Thomas Ryder Payne
Cast: Kelly McNamee
Liisa Repo-Martell
David Storch

A heart-wrenching story of a loving family living with and caring for a severely disabled child, given a beautiful production. It’s more a confessional than a play and you sit and listen, but think, “there but for the grace of God….”

The Story and the Production. The play is based on Ian Brown’s 2009 award-winning book “The Boy in the Moon: A Father’s Search for His Disabled Son.” Brown is married to Johanna Schneller, the Globe and Mail’s film critic. Their son Walker was born with a genetic disorder that left him severally disabled; unable to talk, eat properly, walk, and generally function as a growing boy. Development is severely delayed.

The book was lovingly, respectfully adapted into play form by Emil Sher In 2014. The play chronicles the long, torturous journey of Ian Brown and his wife Johanna Schneller in caring for Walker while he was at home. Every decision is gut-wrenching. They re-think every decision from every angle because they just aren’t sure if they are doing the right thing. There are only 300 people in the world who have the same disorder as Walker so it’s not as if you can go to a local support group for solace.

When the audience enters the theatre the stage is dark and mostly bare except for a stylish table and chairs up right. At the back is an opaque wall with a door well in it and almost behind the wall is lush greenery. A cone of light shines downstage centre.

As Ian Brown, David Storch steps into the cone of light, takes a deep breath and begins to tells us in an initially measured, sometimes agitated way, about a typical night when he is awoken from his sleep by Walker who is hitting himself and obviously in distress. Brown has to calm Walker and disengage him from his feeding tube and other paraphernalia; lift him out of his crib—he is not an infant but the crib is safer for him; change his soiled diaper while trying to stop Walker’s arms from flailing; carry him downstairs—at this point in the story Walker weight 45 pounds—and then feed him a baby bottle and get him settled so he will sleep. Sometimes the process takes three hours. One exhales slowly. And this is just the opening scene.

Liisa Ripo-Martell plays Johanna Schneller with the same measured manner. You get the sense both actors are approximating the effort it takes not only take care of this boy, but also to keep an emotional even keel and not loose their composure, their grip with the constant need to give care. It is a very hard slog.

Initially there is a playfulness as Schneller and Brown explain how they met (she was his student and she was attracted). They marry and she becomes pregnant. She is tested for genetic disorders and none are found. Schneller says that if she knew her baby had this disorder when she was pregnant she would have aborted him.

When Walker is born it is obvious there is something wrong but their regular doctor is not there and they have to make decisions without sound advice. When their doctor does appear it seems that what to do is interpreted differently by both parents. One hears that nature should take its course and Walker should be allowed to die. The other hears that everything should be done to keep him alive. Dilemmas to keep you up at night.

While both parents are respectful and appreciative of the other’s support, the constant pressure of taking care of such a helpless child takes its toll on the marriage. They fight, snipe, loose their temper, emotions etc.

Also part of this family is their daughter Hailey (Kelly McNamee). As disabled as Walker is that is as healthy and vibrant Hailey is. To accentuate the difference, Hailey is a student of ballet and for most of the performance she affects ballet poses and performs en pointe. We learn later of the bond between Walker and Hailey and that Hailey’s dancing gives Walker such pleasure.

Chris Abraham’s direction is striking and beautiful. The lighting by André du Toit and Kimberly Purtell is particularly evocative. A roving circular frame of light slides across the stage, silently, often following either Schneller or Brown and often enveloping them. I liken that roving light to be symbolic of Walker, always present, always consuming his parents’ attention. Occasionally there is a photo of the actual Walker with his parents projected above the stage. The last one of the evening is the most poignant.

Brown and Schneller often move about the stage, interacting, telling the story, but the last section is performed sitting in two chairs downstage facing the audience. It is the most wrenching, emotionally gripping section of the play. At the end of it both David Storch and Liisa Repo-Martell are awash with tears.

Comment. There is so much to ponder in The Boy in the Moon. When David Storch, as Ian Brown takes that deep breath and dives into telling in great detail, an average night trying to get Walker to sleep after he starts hitting himself, I asked myself, “Who is he talking to?” Really, who is he talking to? Friends? Strangers? An audience? A confessor? I do liken this heart-shredding, loving show to being less a play and more a confessional. As if Brown and Schneller needed to do penance for something, perhaps for deciding to keep Walker alive. They constantly worry about how much pain he is in; how he handles it and how they can help him with it. Half-way through the telling they must make another gut-wrenching decision and they make it. And there is guilt. But there is also joy. Are they grasping at anything when they interpret what they see as a smile on Walker’s face, and they feel that means he is happy? I don’t know. And neither do we actually since Brown and Schneller say there is so little they know about the disorder and how it affects a person.

Both Ian Brown and Johanna Schneller are selfless, devoted parents. They agonize over the pain Walker must be going through. I wonder, therefore, why they did not decide initially to let nature take its course. They never lament the decision to let him live as a cause of their marital problems, their constant need for sleep, being held captive to his need for care. They are almost herculean in their devotion to him. They think about what questions they would ask him if he could reply. They want to know that he’s happy. They want to know if he’s in pain. They want to know so much.

In that last section, when David Storch as Ian Brown and Liisa Repo-Martell as Johanna Schneller are sitting forward talking about Walker and they are awash in tears, that is when theatre and real life become blurred. It’s not the characters who are so moved. It’s the actors. Storch’s face is awash in tears and his nose is running considerably. The same with Ripo-Martell. This isn’t acting, folks. These are two actors with young healthy children of their own, playing parents of a severely disabled child, and they are loosing it for real, it seems to me. And that takes me right out of the moment. It seems almost churlish to comment on such a moving moment, but that’s what I’m doing. Of course bearing witness to their confessional is very emotional. But one listens, ponders and tries to understand because as I said in the beginning, “There but for the grace of God go I.”

Presented by Crow’s Theatre

Opened: May 12, 2017.
Saw it: May 13, 2017.
Closes: May 27, 2017.
Cast: 3; 1 man, 2 women
Running Time: 90 minutes approx.

www.crowstheatre.com

{ 0 comments }

Wildfire

At the Young Centre for the Performing Arts, Toronto, Ont.

Created and directed by Judith Thompson
Set by Brett Haynes
Costumes by Denis Huneault-Joffre
Lighting by Kaileigh Krysztofiak
Sound by Andy Trithardt
Song composer, Victoria Carr
Choreography by Allen Kaeja and Karen Kaeja
Cast: Sarah Carney
Nicholas Herd
Michael Liu
Dylan Harman Livaja
Suzanne Love
Krystal Hope Nausbaum
Andreas Prinz

An unsettling look into the dark treatment of people at a mental institute that considered them to be idiots, that asks gritty questions, performed by a compelling group of actors.

Comment. With Wildfire, Judith Thompson’s latest creation, she continues to challenge our perceptions, conceptions and assumptions. In this instance her focus continues to put a human face on ones definition of ‘disability’ in general, and Down Syndrome in particular through her RARE Theatre Company. In the past, the company has presented plays performed by people with varying degrees of abilities, including Down Syndrome, a genetic disorder. With Wildfire all the actors live with Down Syndrome.

The backdrop of the story is the Huronia Regional Centre in Orillia for developmentally delayed patients. The Centre was built in 1876. The treatment of its patients was despicable.

The Production. Two cots, each with a thin mattress and a thin blanket are up at the back of the set with various props on each. Suspended above the stage are seven white ‘smocks.’ When the cast reach up to pull down the smocks and put them on, they then become patients at the Huronia Regional Centre.

The cast of seven stand in several lines, face the audience directly and enumerate how they have been treated, including being called an imbecile and an idiot. They tell the audience how society, family and others have treated them. The writing is spare, concise and almost “point form” as the dialogue passes smoothly from actor to actor, “randomly” in their formation, as each speaks a word or thought and is picked up by another actor.

They pose thorny questions one of which is, what if a person with Down Syndrome and one who is ‘normal’ fall in love? What would be the implications? What if these two people were the same sex? The cast enact a play within the play. A scene from Romeo and Juliet is enacted with two men—Andreas Prinz and Dylan Harman Livaja—as the two star-crossed lovers. It is poignant, tender and illuminating.

Krystal Hope Nausbaum, who has acted in other RARE productions, did what any actress worth her salt would do when she was preparing to play a patient at Huronia, she went there to do research. Nausbaum is a diminutive dynamo with a quiet command. She describes the place in chilling detail, especially the cemetery. There are many graves with the number of the patient but no name on the grave marker. Some have no information at all.

The cast corrects this omission when they each hold a cardboard sign with the name and date of birth and death of seven people who were ‘imprisoned’ there. The signs are left in view for us to ponder. You swallow hard at that.

Comment. As with other RARE productions, the camaraderie of the group is heart-warming and impressive. At one point in a group setting, Dylan Harman Livaja put his arm around Andreas Prinz and Livaja’s fingers subtly tapped on Prinz’s shoulder, perhaps in a quiet signal? Support? Livaja also spoke to Prinz quietly, perhaps giving instruction of what to do? Comment? I am assuming. But the support of these two actors is impressive, and it applies to the whole group.

There is much to learn from these actors: to listen, hear, observe, ponder, watch, be unsettled and be moved. Most important I think is patience. Sometimes an actor pauses to find his/her line (they are not forgetting, they are processing). We see the ‘struggle’ to get the line. We wait patiently, confident the actor/actress will find it. The message is not diluted by the pauses. And the patience is rewarded.

Wildfire is important and their message is delivered by a group of seven actors who speak with authority and hard-earned experience. See it.

Presented by RARE Theatre Company

Began: May 2, 2017.
Saw it: May 6, 2017.
Closes: May 20, 2017.
Running Time: 75 minutes.

www.soulpepper.ca

Liars at a Funeral.

At St. Vladimir Theatre, 620 Spadina Ave., Toronto, Ont.
Written by Sophia Fabiilli
Directed by Ali Joy Richardson
Set and wardrobe by Lindsay Woods
Sound by Nicholas Potter
Lighting by Steph Raposo.
Cast: Rhea Akler
John Healy
Ruby Joy
Daniel Pagett
Terry Tweed

An ambitious, often funny play about family secrets and squabbles.

The Story. We are in a funeral home for Mavis’ funeral. The family is gathering which will be tricky because no one seems to be talking to each other. Mavis’ daughter Evelyn is divorced and her ex-husband Frank will be there. Evelyn has a secret that only her friend Frank seems to know (he’s there too to give Evelyn moral support). Evelyn’s twin daughters DeeDee and Mia haven’t spoken to each other in years. Mia hasn’t seen the family for years. She has a surprise to tell them. All the characters have secrets. There is one whopping lie but the rest of the stuff are secrets.

The Production. Playwright Sophia Fabiilli has set herself a daunting task: to create a play in which four of the five actors play two parts and in one case, the two parts are identical twins. Director Ali Joy Richardson is certainly up to the challenge, as is the energetic cast.

We are in a funeral home. Mavis’ gleaming casket is raised on a table in front of us waiting for the guests to arrive. Evelyn (Rhea Akler) is the first to show up with her friend Frank (John Healy). She has an urgent request of him. He’s surprised and so are we. (no I won’t tell you what the surprise is.)

In swift succession an actress with her hair down, looking scruffy exits over here and a few seconds later re-enters over there with her hair up, looking spiffy and pregnant. Kudos to Ruby Joy who plays the identical twins DeeDee and Mia. A timid, awkward, glasses-adjusting, quiet man who works in the funeral home, exist stiffly and re appears over here as a loud fellah with no glasses, an easy but grating manner. Kudos to Daniel Pagett for the distinguishing details of his characters, Quint of the funeral home and Cam of the loud-mouth.

John Healy plays both a drunk, philandering ex-husband named Bruce and a solid friend named Frank. Rhea Akler plays Leorah as a hair flipping, over-sexed funeral home director, and a skittish Evelyn. Well sure she’s skittish—she has her secret she must keep; her mother has died; and her twin daughters who have no spoken in years are expected and she’s a wreck.

In this mad-cap comedy even Mavis appears. Terry Tweed plays her with spunk, confidence and a real cough that is worrying but seems to fit with the nature of the character.

Comment. While Liars at a Funeral does have its humorous moments, I can’t help but think that Sophia Fabiilli tries a bit too hard to be funny and complex with her dizzying play. Still it’s a brave, almost fearless effort, so kudos for that too.

Truth ‘n Lies Theatre presents.

Began: May 5, 2017.
Saw it: May 7, 2017.
Closes: May 14, 2017.
Cast: 5; 2 men, 3 women.
Running Time: approx. 2 hours.

www.truthnliestheatre.com

It’s All Tru

Written and directed by Sky Gilbert
Set by Denise Lisson
Lighting by Oz Weaver
Costumes by Elizabeth Traicus
Cast: David Coomber
Caleb Olivieri
Tim Post

A disappointment in part because the story is so clichéd; the revelations are too obvious as is the direction and in one case the dialogue is almost incomprehensible because the actor mumbles and doesn’t project.

NOTE: It’s All Tru is not to be confused with Jason Sherman’s 1999 play, It’s All True, about Orson Welles’ efforts to produce the Marc Blitzstein musical, The Cradle Will Rock.

The Story. Travis is a young actor who is engaged to Kurt, his former drama teacher. They are planning their wedding in a month and a half. But, well, uh, it seems that Travis got lonely when Kurt went on a trip, and well, uh, he partook of the pleasures of a street boy. It seems that Travis and Kurt have a sort of open relationship in which one or the other might have sex with someone else but they aren’t supposed to tell the partner really but should make sure they are taking the various meds necessary in the time of AIDS. In any case Travis tells Kurt the truth and says he had sex and the street boy did wear a condom but then when Travis looked behind him, the guy was not wearing a condom. Then the street boy, named Gideon shows up one night when Travis isn’t there but Kurt is and Gideon just wanted to drop off a keep sake of their time together. Kurt is mighty upset. Travis and Kurt thrash it out. Kurt has his own secrets. This triangle of relationships is being tugged and it’s coming apart.

The Production. Denise Lisson’s pristine, elegant set of Kurt’s beautifully appointed home is created with the simplest of props. A chaise downstage left is framed in floor light. There is a side table with a few perfectly placed knickknacks A counter stage right is empty except for a silver trivet and silver bowl of chilli. Up stage is a long, grey table with two chairs, and plates at either end and a vase with about 6 lilies in the centre of the table. Each set piece is subtly illuminated by Oz Weaver.

Kurt (Tim Post) is fastidious in his home. Everything is perfectly in its own space. He is exuberant in his greeting of Travis (David Coomber) because Kurt has been away on business. Travis is just as exuberant and a bit flirty. Travis also has a confession and once David Coomber as Travis attends to the awkward dialogue on the page, and his awkward performance as directed by Sky Gilbert, Travis manages to finally blurt out that he had a one night stand with a street boy. And yes the guy wore a condom at the beginning, but then, well, uh, hehehehe, it seems when Travis turned around, the guy was not wearing a condom. He doesn’t know what happened or how that came about.

Kurt was not worried because he was sure that Travis was taking the various medications for possible HIV they had both agreed to take. Right? Heheheh, uh, well, again Travis is awkward when he says that no he had not been taking it but promised to go to the hospital and fill the prescription immediately.

When Gideon (Caleb Olivieri) the street boy arrives at Kurt’s house late that night looking for Travis, Kurt is none too pleased. Gideon inveigles his way into the house. He wears scruffy, torn jeans, a jacket and t-shirt and carries a small backpack with various stuffed toys in it and a precious rock for Travis and a piece of glass from an old theatre. Much of what Caleb Olivieri says is unintelligible either because he mumbles or he doesn’t project.

Kurt is firm in telling Travis about the visit and that Travis must never have that man in the house nor must Gideon be encouraged. And while Travis tries his best to do it, Gideon comes around the next day and makes himself at home, putting his take out coffee cup on the pristine table when he leaves. So we know how important this cup is director Sky Gilbert has it illuminated. There is no way that Kurt could miss seeing it when he comes home. By the same token, there is no way that Travis would have missed it either—he spends so much time cleaning the immaculate counter in the kitchen and then the table while Gideon is there. (sigh).

There is discussion about why Gideon took off the condom. He says that Travis told him too. Travis denies it, but seems unsure. Kurt decides to handle it in his abrupt way. Travis seems confused and Gideon is frantic about what might happen to him.

Comment. What seems painfully obvious in this painfully obvious play is that nothing is true. There is no truth in the relationship between Travis and Kurt; there is no effort for taking responsibility in sex and after. Travis lies about filling the prescription for the needed drugs to be safe. He lies when he invites Gideon in. Gideon might be lying about why he took off the condom. Kurt lies in his own way as well.

When we find out in about three minutes of their appearance that two characters are lying, then trusting those characters becomes a waste of time. We find out a bit later not to trust Kurt. While it is possible to have compassion for a loathsome character, I think it’s stretching one’s patience when we are expected to have compassion for three loathsome characters in a three character play.

I also think it really dangerous for a playwright to direct his own play. Who will tell the playwright to cut or re-write? Who will tell a director that no, you do not need to have such elaborate set changes? Not a happy night in the theatre.

The Cabaret Company presents:

From: May 3, 2017.
Saw it: May 10, 2017.
Closes: May 14, 2017.
Cast: 3 men.
Running Time: 80 minutes.

www.buddiesinbadtimes.com

{ 0 comments }

What an outpouring of love for our Jon Kaplan. Here’s my tribute.

Jon didn’t like openings so we usually saw each other if we both were seeing a show after it opened. There was always that smile and a hug and kiss. We always wanted to know what the other saw and thought. I never heard him use the pronoun “I” before he used the pronoun “You.” No matter who he was talking to he always asked how people were and what they were working on, and when their next show was. It was always about them and not about him.

Fringe time was always stressful—not for me as I was never here for it, alas. He shared that he would be inundated with press information and phone messages from all those who wanted him to see their show. If they didn’t hear back from him immediately they sent the stuff again or left another voice message. He seemed almost at pains to have to tell them that if he didn’t reply immediately it was because he was busy writing copy; laying out his section and doing all the myriad things necessary to get out the paper. I can imagine that his message was kind when he said to please leave only one message and send the stuff once. That was the closest I ever saw Jon being anything but even-tempered.

When he chose a way to inform the community of his health challenges it was matter of fact and without despair, as if he was trying to save us from those dark feelings. I emailed him on the day I knew he was getting his results of a CAT-scan. He said the news wasn’t good. The cancer had spread. But the good news was that he was now eligible to be included in drug trials. Leave it to Jon to find something good in the spread of cancer.

We always saw each other at Young People’s Theatre at their opening matinee. He always sat in the last row, aisle seat, house left and I always sat in the row in front, aisle seat. The catch-up was always sweet. The last time I saw him was in March at Anita Majumdar’s wonderful, compelling show Boys with Cars. He was tired. He didn’t want to eat but forced himself to keep up his strength. His mouth was dry from the medication, so he carried a water bottle. He lost some of his hair and his head was hot because of the radiation – but he was still Jon.

We were scrupulous about not discussing a show we were reviewing, but Jon leaned forward and said he’d never seen such anger coming from the stage. It was so right an observation and so appropriate for that show. After the show, I offered to drive him home but he said he wanted to say hello to Brian Quirt (the director) and of course Anita Majumdar to tell them how much he enjoyed the show. And because I didn’t know how little time Jon had left, I realized he probably also wanted to say good-bye to them.

I must confess that over the years, my eye-brows crinkled at that notion. It’s a small community. We all have friends in the theatre. But being so close to the artist one reviews seems a conflict of interest to me. However, upon reflection I realized that Jon wanted theatre artists and creators to do their very best on their shows and they, in turn, wanted to do their very best for him. So, where’s the conflict? He was capable of writing a comment that suggested an improvement could be made, but it was said with such kindness and affection, the receiver of the comment was grateful and not wounded.
I thought I should write Jon last week to ask how he was doing but got distracted and then it was too late. He died on Friday, April 28. Another subtle life lesson, courtesy of Jon Kaplan: never, ever, wait to ask how someone is or say that they are important to you or tell them you love them. Love you Jon, Grateful for having known you.

Lynn

In a word, Jon:

Always smiling.
Kind
Loving
Considerate
Passionate about the theatre and its creators.
A mensch, of course!
A hugger and kisser.
Curious
Humble
Generous
Open-hearted
Soft-spoken
A quiet note taker
A listener
Meticulous
Courtly
Caring
Patient
Respectful
Supportive
Encouraging
Compassionate
Optimistic
Tireless
A talent for friendship
Loved
Respected
Cherished
Terribly, terribly missed.

In sum, Jon.

{ 2 comments }

At the Elgin Theatre, Toronto, Ont.

Book by Craig Lucas
Based on the original novel “Madame Sousatzka” by Bernice Rubens
Music by David Shire
Lyrics by David Maltby, Jr.
Additional Vocal Arrangements and Music by Lebo M
Directed by Adrian Noble
Choreography by Graciela Daniele
Set by Anthony Ward
Costumes by Paul Tazewell
Lighting by Howell Binkley
Sound by Martin Levan
Projection design by Jon Driscoll
Cast: Ryan Allen
Jordan Barrow
Victoria Clark
Rebecca Eichenberger
Sara Jean Ford
Fuschia!
John Hillner
Judy Kaye
Virginia Preston
Christianne Tisdale
Nicky Wyman

The production is overproduced; over-written with too many storylines, many of which should be cut and too many extraneous songs that should also be cut. However the singing of Victoria Clark as Sousatzka, Judy Kaye as the Countess and Montego Glover as the mother, is glorious.

The Story. Sousatzka is based on the 1962 novel Madame Sousatzka by Bernice Rubens and not on the 1988 film starring Shirley MacLaine. The novel is set in London. It’s about Madame Sousatzka, an eccentric Polish piano teacher and her gifted student Marcus, the son of a single mother from Eastern Europe.

But in the musical, Sousatzka, this simple story has been fiddled with to such an extent that it’s just chocking with storylines, many of which are not developed or are eye-poppingly incredible. Playwright Craig Lucas has made several changes and additions for the musical Sousatzka (I guess copyright rules prevented the producers from using the clearer title of Madame Sousatzka. Sousatzka doesn’t really tell ticket buyers much about the show).

The setting is still London but it begins in South Africa in 1976 during the uprisings against apartheid. A man named Jabulani Khenketha leads a group of black South Africans seeking justice but are shot at by the police. Several people are killed and Jabulani is sent to prison for treason. His wife Xholiswa Khenketha and their young son, Themba leave South Africa and make a dangerous journey to London (1983) and a better life. Themba is now the gifted student of Madame Sousatzka.

Over the course of the show we see Madame Sousatzka’s back story—family wiped out by the Nazis in Warsaw, Poland (1938) and there are other horrors she experiences as well. There are the back stories of the rest of the people who live in the boarding house with Madame Sousatzka; Themba is torn between his cultural attachment to South Africa and the transplanted South Africans in London and his awakening to another kind of life involving Madame Sousatzka and her odd friends. Themba becomes attached to Sarah, a white, blonde-haired, blue-eyed ballerina in his school which does not go down too well with his mother. Themba is also conflicted with who he is as a person and the music he wants to follow. And of course as Themba becomes accomplished Madame Sousatzka worries that he will leave her on his way to success. Lots too digest.

The Production. In the musical world you set the tone, mood and idea of a musical in the first five minutes of the show. In the first five minutes of Sousatzka we are in Soweto, South Africa, 1976 (this is projected on the back wall of the stage) at a rally against apartheid led by Jabulani, Themba’s father. Several traditional South African songs are sung by a throng in full voice including the South African national anthem and an anti-apartheid song. (I wish there was a projected translation of the songs so we could get the full benefit of their meaning.) Police shoot; people are dead and there is a court case with three very angry prosecutors screaming their verdict as Jabulani is put in prison. There is the escape of Themba and his mother to London where most of the musical takes place, except for those scenes that go off to other places.

This musical does not know what it wants to be it’s so confused. It doesn’t know if it wants to be a rousing South Africa story—though that gets the audience ‘up’ and excited–or an otherwise ‘quiet’ ordinary story in London with some lovely ballads. .

I found Anthony Ward’s set oddly designed and often oppressive. Too often there is a backdrop that goes up a bit higher than the actors on stage that establishes where we are—Sousatzka’s flat, Xholiswa’s London flat, etc., but above that is darkness. It’s as if the actors are playing the scene in a cave.

The South Africa scenes have the benefit of an impressive rising sun etc. thanks to the projections by Jon Driscoll, but for the most part there is a sense of gloom because of the odd design by Antony Ward. Strange because he’s a fine designer.

While Craig Lucas’s book is choking with too many story-lines he has captured the deep devotion that Sousatzka has to music. Lucas has also captured her quirkiness in telling Themba how to feel the music and let it play. In Themba we get a sense of the depth of his character.

For all the problems with this show, there are some bright spots. Victoria Clark as Madame Sousatzka is a gift of an actress. She captures the eccentric oddness of Sousatzka, her confidence, her fire and in her quiet moments, her uncertainty. And she sings like a dream. Clark is a true, clear, rich soprano who knows how to interpret the heart and soul of a song. She sings the beautiful song “Music Is In You” to convey that love of music to Themba.

Clark is ably matched by Judy Kaye as the Countess, a woman with a heart of gold and a keeper of many secrets. Kaye also sings beautifully. One of the best moments is their duet on “Let Go” a beautiful song about coming to terms with knowing when to let a person in your life go on to other things. Both are glorious singers and lovely actors.

Jordan Barrow as Themba has passion and charm. You get the sense of his growing confidence and confliction of where he should be in the world. He has poise and ability to handle this tricky part. Montego Glover as his mother Xholiswa also sings beautifully and is a fine actress. She conveys the pride and stubbornness in wanting the best for her son. And she does a rousing rendition of “Song of the Child” that is thrilling, until you realise that the song is oddly placed as if it was dropped in the story like an errant piece of lint. It’s an important song and should be better placed.

But too often one wondered what was up with all those songs? The music is by David Shire. The lyrics by Richard Maltby Jr. Additional music is by Lebo M who has written the rousing South Africa portion. (All have done better work elsewhere.) There are 16 songs in the first act and 17 in the second with about 16 songs taking place in South Africa. Many of them should be cut because they are sung by people we don’t know or in situations that can’t support them. It’s as if the creators are determined to beat us into submission with too many story lines and too many songs.

Adrian Noble’s direction is pedestrian at best. He shows us the individual people in Sousatzka’s house involved in their activities: a man manipulates a client (he’s an osteopath), a young woman manipulates a client, (she’s a prostitute). What’s missing is who they actually are for context. Songs are often sung full out to the audience, or speeches addressed to them but not the people the speech is meant for. So old fashioned.

Graciela Daniele’s choreography for the South African scenes is lively and acrobatic. When there are scenes in Xholiswa’s flat that is cause for more rousing singing—there are usually at least 20 people there—Daniele has them gyrating to a seductive beat.

So many people associated with this jumble of a show have done good work elsewhere. You want to ask, “What happened here? Are you too close to see you need a scissors to cut out swaths of this clutter?”

Themba might have a “Brand New Family” but that song comes from no where about people we know nothing about. Cut it.

Themba has enough on his plate to contend with besides also having to deal with a blonde, blue-eyed girlfriend ballet dancer since nothing of that relationship is developed. It’s just plopped in and it’s cheesy. Cut it. Cut the ridiculous number “All I Wanna Do (Is Go Dancin”) because it veers away from the central plot.

When Themba goes to a soiree at the home of the man who will arrange a concert for him, that is not cause for a production number of “Manders Salon” of the snotty, bigoted people invited there. The song is clever for no reason and the message of it has been handled better elsewhere in the show. Cut it.

While Judy Kaye sings “Ring One Bell” beautifully about a Christmas in Warsaw, the song comes from no where and is supported by nothing and veers away from the plot. Sorry, cut it.

And while the incredulous ending might make one think this is a happy ending it’s just another eye-rolling moment in a show full of them.

Comment. Craig Lucas’s book of Sousatzka seems like a checklist of the ills of the 20th century—apartheid, the Holocaust, rape, racism, bigotry and interracial relations to name a few—and it makes the whole enterprise seem disingenuous. It’s as if the creators were taking a basically simple story and puffing it up to look important and substantial. And it’s neither.

Sousatzka marks the return of Garth Drabinsky to theatre producing after an absence of 15 years, some of which was spent in jail because of fraud. His intention is to send this to Broadway in the fall. If Garth Drabinsky thinks this new production is Broadway material he’s 20 years out of date. This production has been kicking around on Drabinsky’s bucket list for years and in that time it doesn’t seem that he’s noticed that Broadway has changed. These over-blown, bloated productions have passed their ‘best-by-date.” Song after song is bellowed out giving a false sense of ‘tingle’ and a distinct sense of being manipulated.

There are 11 roles in Sousatzka with a stuffed cast of 48 (and many of them should be cut.) In true Drabinsky fashion all the creative people on this show are either American or British. All the speaking roles are American. Of the cast of 48 only 16 are Canadian and they are relegated to the chorus. I have seen many of those Canadians in the chorus in lead roles in shows across the country, but you won’t find that in a Garth Drabinsky show. The message is clear: Canadians aren’t good enough for a creative or speaking role in a Drabinsky show.

Sousatzka was work shopped in Toronto (where the dollar is weak) and has its only run here before it hopes to go to Broadway in the fall. I would like to think this is one case that Drabinsky will not tell us (Canadians, Torontonians) how lucky we are that this show started here.

Feh

Teatro Proscenium Limited Parnership and Sousatzka Broadway Limited Partnership present a Garth Drabinsky Production:

Opened: March 23, 2017
Closes: April 9, 2017.
Cast: 48; 4; men, 8 women and a lot of chorus.
Running Time: 2 hours and 30 minutes.

www.sousatzkamusical.com

{ 0 comments }

As many of you know, I have been giving out Tootsie Pops for many years to people in the theatre as a way of saying ‘thank you for making the theatre so special for me.’ Instead of doing top 10 lists of the best theatre and performances of the year, I do The Tootsie Awards that are personal, eclectic, whimsical and totally subjective.

Here are this year’s winners:

PEOPLE

The Guts of a Bandit Award

Jon Kaplan

For facing his medical challenges head on with resolve, grace and his always present smile.

The Living Their Dream Award

Michael Rubinoff, Irene Sankoff and David Hein

Michael Rubinoff for coming up with the idea for the musical Come From Away, the story of how the good people of Gander, Newfoundland opened their homes and hearts to the 7,000 passengers on 38 planes, who ‘came from away’ on 9/11, when American airspace was closed.

Irene Sankoff and David Hein for writing, composing and lyricising Come From Away, which has blown away anyone who has seen it.

The John Harvey/Leonard/McHardy Mensch Award
(Named after John Harvey and Leonard McHardy who gave us TheatreBooks for 40 years and showed us what class, graciousness and being a mensch was all about)

To the good people of Gander, Newfoundland (of course)

Who took in all those stranded people who ‘came from away’ on 9/11 and for several days after, fed, cared for and comforted them, showing everyone what decency and kindness are all about. It’s all so beautifully realized in Come From Away.

The Brutal and Bumbling Award

Matthew Edison

For playing Joe, the polite, ice-eyed killer in Killer Joe (for Coal Mine Theatre) and then playing you know… I mean… (adjusting eye-glasses) I mean…he really is, isn’t he? you know what I mean, Gary Lejeune in Noises Off (for Soulpepper) that eye-glass adjusting, sweet bumbler who never met a sentence he could finish articulately.

The Chameleon Award

Jakob Ehman

He disappears into his roles to such an extent you can’t recognize him from one role to another. From the smarmy, spoilt rich kid in Caught at Theatre Passe Muraille to the twitchy and dangerous tough in The Circle at Tarragon Theatre, and the suave singing, dancing erudite man in Darling of the Day at Talk is Free Theatre in Barrie, Jakob Ehman slips so far into his characters, he dissolves.

The One(s) to Watch Award

Nikki Duval

For playing an overly-excitable, simple-minded soul in Pitchfork Disney in a site-specific production for Precisely Peter Productions and then playing a tough-as-nails Goth-girl with a stare that could freeze you to the floor in The Circle at the Tarragon.

Olivia Hutt

For her riveting, gut-twisting performance of a teen with severe anxiety and depression problems, in which she also played every other character in the multi-character production of Still/Falling rendering each of them distinct in body language, voice and expression.

Hannah Levinson

A feisty eleven-year-old who played the whiney Lee Bouvier in Grey Gardens for Acting Up Stage Company and then plays a forthright, confident, formidable Matilda in Matilda for Mirvish Productions. Levinson is one of three Matilda’s and is a powerhouse in my estimation.

The So Long and Thanks for All the Gems Award

Jackie Maxwell

The out-going (and outgoing) Artistic Director of the Shaw Festival for 16 years who packed her seasons with challenging, enlightening productions and championed women in every facet of her programming.

SPECIAL MENTION (because he works out of Barrie, Ont.)

The Fearless Imp Award

Arkady Spivak

As the Artistic Producer of Talk Is Free Theatre in Barrie, Ont. Arkady Spivak has programmed little known musicals such as Darling of the Day with great success, placed the musical The Music Man on the streets of Barrie where the audience either walked or bussed to the various locations, cast actors (Jakob Ehman for example) in roles you would not expect with terrific results, and offers a theatre for development for The Wedding Party by Kristen Thomson, before it opens the new Streetcar Crowsnest Theatre in Toronto in January. And he does it with an impish manner and easy wit.

PRODUCTIONS

The Bursting with Joy and Please Pass the Kleenex Award

Come from Away

Nothing else needs to be said.

Babies are the Quietest Audiences Award

One Thing Leads to Another

The revelatory show for babies created by Maja Ardal, Audrey Dwyer, Mary Francis Moore and Julia Tribe at Young People’s Theatre. If you just let babies be babies to discover this magical world of theatre, their world will open up to them. And to the adults who bring them.

The Gigantically Important Award

The Wee Festival

A festival of plays for babies and toddlers, organized and curated by Lynda Hill, the formidable Artistic Director of Theatre Direct. To see the inventive work done by companies from around the world who catered to this young audience, and to see the looks of wonder on those young faces, was magical.

Let the Fingers Do the Walking, Talking and Expressing Award

Kiss and Cry

Created by Michèle Anne de Mey and Jaco Van Dormael that played at the Bluma Appel Theatre for Canadian Stage. An entire world of first love, romance and exploding life all performed by gifted performers using only their dramatic, expressive, graceful fingers. (Noted this year because I missed it last year.)

A Spit in the Face to Make You Gasp and Heartsick Award

“Master Harold”…And the Boys

A glorious production of Athol Fugard’s devastating play about the history of South Africa encapsulated in the entwined stories of three characters. Produced by Obsidian Theatre Company and the Shaw Festival directed beautifully by Philip Akin and wonderfully acted by James Daly, Allan Louis and André Sills.

Your Brother HAS to be Alive Award

All My Sons

Arthur Miller’s gripping play about love, valour and responsibility and how one family was ripped apart because of questions of morality, was given a shattering production directed with exquisite care by Martha Henry and acted by a stunning cast at Stratford.

More Combinations than a Rubik’s Cube Award

TomorrowLove

A play about love and couples with seemingly endless possibilities of pairing, written with eye-popping inventiveness by Rosamund Small and directed with an eye to detail by Mitchell Cushman.

Trust Us, You’re Going to Follow Us To The Dark Side Award

Pitchfork Disney

By Philip Ridley, directed by John Shooter who created a wonderfully claustrophobic and grungy production about an emotionally damaged brother and sister afraid to go outside. This was presented in a grungy hole of a room in Kensington Market.

The Unending

Three one act plays directed by Aaron Willis for the site-specific company, Convergence Theatre Company, in which the audience was lead up a laneway in the dark to the site of two of the plays, one in a dark garage, the other a backyard—a laneway, I reckon the audience would have avoided at all costs.

Pomona

By Alistair McDowall. Christopher Stanton directed a sphincter-gripping production of McDowall’s unsettling play and set it in a dark space with a large garage-like door that shut you in with a bang.

{ 0 comments }

At the Bluma Appel Theatre, Toronto, Ont.

Written by Nick Payne
Directed by Peter Hinton
Set and Costumes by Michael Gianfrancesco
Lighting by Andrea Lundy
Sound by Peter Cerone
Cast: Graham Cuthbertson
Cara Ricketts.

An exquisite production about the randomness of relationships and their many possible variations.

The Story. Marianne is a physicist and Roland is a bee keeper. They meet by chance; form a relationship; go through the rocky waters of that relationship; deal with devastating news and commit to each other. This is from the playtext, “Constellations is a play about free will and friendship, quantum multiverse theory, love and honey.” Which I think says it nicely.

The Production. Director Peter Hinton and his splendid design team have imagined an exquisite production in which the space seems something otherworldly, as if the characters are revolving in space although the play takes place on earth.

In keeping with quantum multiverse theory—if the stars/planets align there are many variables on the direction of the planets and stars–we see at least three variations on the various scenes to see the directions the story can go, since free will is at play as well.

In Michael Gianfrancesco’s set there are large spheres stage right—white, black—on the floor and floating a bit above the floor. Are they planets as in a constellation? One can imagine. The main playing area is in fact a large, flat, circular platform that revolves (like a planet?) at times and at other times is still. Depending on the progress of the relationship, the platform revolves slowly or very quickly. When the platform revolves quickly the characters are rooted to the spot, leaning in a bit to be ground down more in space. There are shiny, see-through ‘plastic’ walls at the sides and one at the back. The two characters are reflected on the ‘wall’ in such a way that we see three reflections of the two characters moving around the set. Sometimes the third reflection is feint, sometimes not. It all works to create the sense of the shifting relationship.

While I’m sure the large ring suspended above the stage is for lights, on its own it looks like the ring from Saturn or the flight path of some planet or other. At times Andrea Lundy’s evocative lighting of the playing surface changes and reflects differently on the back wall. Sometimes the center of the playing surface is darkened into its own circle within the circumference, sometimes not. It’s interesting to see how the lighting change is associated with either character. Cellist Jane Chan sits off left, playing music that reflects the scene. Sometimes the music is melodic, lush and complex when he couple is engaging and ‘together’, sometimes it’s almost cacophonous and ragged when the couple is quarreling, accusatory, uncertain.

At the heart of the production is the beating heart of the play. Peter Hinton’s direction is so sensitive, detailed and thoughtful in establishing those delicate relationships. Initially when Marianne and Roland meet Hinton stages them close to each other, conversing. Marianne speaks various (pick-up?) lines to Roland to start a conversation. He, wary of her, says he’s in a relationship. She winces in embarrassment. Blackout. The scene is played again, with different inflections and placement in the space with a different outcome. Blackout. And again. There is intimacy in their embarrassment and eventually the relationship grows. Depending where they are in the relationship Marianne and Roland stand on the rim of the playing area talking to each other across the way as the space revolves. It’s a different kind of intimacy now. It is an almost constant movement of two people trying to find their way to be together, sometimes having to part, being supportive when one needs it badly, and loving each other.

The performances are a gift. As Marianne, Cara Ricketts is a confident woman unafraid of making the first move and speaking her mind. She has the confidence to live with her blunders and laugh about it, but keep trying. Graham Cuthbertson, as Roland creates an awkward man trying to manoeuvre the rocky waters of relationships. He is both forthright and accommodating.

Comment. Playwright Nick Payne is a young, British playwright who is terrifically bright and writes plays that examine “what if.” In Constellations he throws in quantum multivers theory to shake things up. There are many universes out there that have many possibilities of how things work out. So each scene in Payne’s play is played in three variations of tone, voice, attitude etc. by the two characters.

Peter Hinton has directed an exquisite production thanks to his creative team and delicately, firmly shows us variations on a theme of friendship, free will, love and finding ones independent way with a dollop of honey. While there are program notes on Quantum Multiverse Theory, of course you do not need a degree in physics to understand the play, just an open-heart, mind and compassion. When the stories/worlds align the story can go in several different directions and work out in the most wonderful ways, or not. Most importantly it’s a play about love and coincidence. And we all know about that.

It’s a complex play that draws you in carefully and doesn’t let you look away for a second.

Canadian Stage Presents:

Opened: Nov. 10, 2016.
Closes: Nov. 27, 2016.
Cast: 1 man, 1 woman
Running Time: 90 minutes approx.

www.canadianstage.com

{ 0 comments }