Search: MY NIGHT WITH REG

Live and in person at the Factory Studio Theater, Toronto, Ont., Brenley Charkow

www.factorytheatre.ca

Written by Hengameh E. Rice

Directed by Brenley Charkow

Set by Sim Suzer

Costumes by Niloufar Ziaee

Lighting by Siobhan Sleath

Sound by Heidi Chan

Cast: Mahsa Ershadifar

Omar Alex Khan

Sama Mousavi

Fuad Ahmed

Anahita’s Republic sheds light on the plight of women in Iran and the political implications if a woman speaks up. The production is a noble effort.

Note: Hengameh E. Rice, noted as the playwright, is in fact a writing team: Hengameh born in Iran and Rice born in Edmonton, Alberta. This seems to be the only play the duo has written. Finding out any further information on the writers individually is also a mystery.

The Story. From the press information: “(set in Tehran) Anahita is a woman who refuses to wear the hijab and rules her own republic where she can be free to live, dress and speak as she pleases. To deal with the world outside of her compound, she controls the family business and the life of her brother Cyrus, whose freedom and happiness are sacrificed for her dreams. One night, on the eve of an important secret meeting between leaders of the women’s movement, a young woman in a chador (it’s a piece of clothing. It is for Muslim women. In Iran, women wear a chador in public. The Chador covers the body except the face) comes to Anahita’s compound, carrying explosive secrets that might destroy everything Anahita has tried to build.”

Anahita has not stepped foot out of her compound for years. She runs the family business totally within the compound walls. She has everything she needs. She can swim in her pool; wear whatever clothes she wants; can smoke a cigarette if she feels like it, all without prying eyes or being reprimanded by the ruling regime.

Cyrus, her brother, is a member of parliament and also is involved with the company. As a man, he can go where he pleases. He can tell Anahita about the outside world so she is informed.

The Production. Sim Suzer has designed one of the most beautiful sets I have ever seen in the Factory Studio Theatre, or in any theatre come to think about it. Flowers and flowering potted plants are everywhere. Up at the back of the space is Anahita’s well appointed office with a rich-looking desk, an ornate backdrop, memorabilia on the walls, shelves etc. Down some steps from the office is the garden, lined with flowers, plants some outdoor furniture. The whole design suggests opulence, calm and exquisite taste, both the character’s and the designer’s.

When the production begins, there is the sound of commotion, upheaval of people shouting. Upstage is the back of a woman taking off her hijab. She slowly turns to look at a woman downstage. While this might set up the initial moment when Anahita (Sama Mousavi) removed her hijab in public, we can’t be sure, since we do not know who these characters are. During the play, there are references to another woman who challenged the Iranian regime, hence the confusion of who is this in the first scene? Who is the woman downstage? I think this initial scene should be rethought for clarity.  

Anahita makes her first proper entrance having just come from her swimming pool. Her brother Cyrus (Fuad Ahmed) is dressed stylishly in well-tailored casual clothes—kudos to Niloufar Ziaee for her beautiful costumes-again, they suggest wealth, success and taste. Cyrus wants to discuss an important meeting that they will host. Cyrus has worked hard to organize it. His position in parliament has garnered him power to get things done and organize things his sister can’t because of her ‘confinement’ in the compound.

They are expecting Masood (Omar Alex Khan) one of their suppliers, to bring them the latest shipment. He doesn’t arrive. In his place is Omid (Mahsa Ershadifar), Masood’s daughter. She says he is ill and she has come in his place. Both Cyrus and Anahita are suspicious. Omid wears the chador. She holds it tightly around her. Is she hiding something?

We learn that years earlier Omid’s mother was politically active. Was she the person we saw take off the hijab at the beginning of the production? Was it Anahita? As I said, it’s a scene that should be rethought for clarity.

Almost at the end of the play the playwrights take a sharp turn and the play swerves away from Anahita to her brother without a hint or buildup. And while the press information has this line “she controls the family business and the life of her brother Cyrus, whose freedom and happiness are sacrificed for her dreams” the play does not support that claim. I am often amused by what the press information states the play is about, and what the play as written is actually is about. We are given heaps of new information about Cyrus, his life and his concerns at the end of the play. But this comes from nowhere and should be reexamined as well, again for clarity. The curve results in a separate play it seems.

The cast is valiant under Brenley Charkow’s direction but I found her staging ‘busy.’ Not every character needs to move on every line. Occasionally stillness is profound.

Comment. With Anahita’s Republic playwrights Hengameh E. Rice provide a fascinating look into the rigid world in which the women of Iran live. Even one as financially privileged as Anahita, must isolate in her compound if she wants to live, dress and smoke as she likes, to be safe. Omid, on the other hand, is beholding to her father and his dictates as to whom she can marry. Masood has arranged a marriage for Omid. She does not want to marry this man for various reasons. Her father is adamant. Why she has come to Anahita’s compound is one of her secrets. The playwrights do have me wondering how Omid was able to travel by herself (albeit at night). And that rigidity concerning the lack of women’s right is far reaching. Years before Omid’s mother dared to challenge that rigidity with dire consequences. Those consequences had no effect on Masood’s insistence that he could decide Omid’s life for her.

In the case of Anahita and her brother, there is a more relaxed, contemporary, worldy attitude. Anahita runs the business, very successfully it seems.  

Bustle & Beast Present:

Plays until April 2, 2023.

Running time: 90 minutes.

www.factorytheatre.ca

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Live and in person at the Red Sandcastle Theatre, 922 Queen St. E, Toronto, Ont. Until March 18, 2023

Note: I first saw these plays when they streamed on demand as part of the Ottawa Fringe Festival in 2021. I was delighted to see them live and in person last night (March 7, 2023). I am revising the review from 2021 to reflect aspects of the vibrant live production.

 
www.parryriposte.ca

Written by various writers, listed below.

Directed by Mary Ellis

Performed by Margo MacDonald

Lighting Design by Laura Wheeler

Sound Design by Alli Harris

Described as “a Triptych of Uncanny Abduction” involving: “a school haunted by troubled children, the mysterious disappearance of a friend in the woods and an encounter with the unknown on open waters,” these three descriptions just prick your interest and the plays do the rest to hold you in their grip.

The three monologues that make up Dressed as People are: Skinless by Kelly Robson, The Shape of My Teeth by Amal El-Mohtar and Repositioning by A.M. Dellamonica. Dressed as People is produced by Parry Riposte Productions, and all the artists are proudly queer. Their previous production was the wonderful The Elephant Girls by Margo MacDonald about a notorious girl-gang that terrorized London, England for 100 years. Two of the three plays in Dressed as People deal with queer themes and relationships.

All three plays are directed by Mary Ellis and they are performed by Margo MacDonald.

The costumes for each of the three plays hang on three hangers that are suspended from the flies. Margo MacDonald will  put on each costume and a wig, if necessary, for each play. She transforms beautifully for each play, dissolving into the character.  

Skinless

Written by Kelly Robson

In 1989, while teaching Canadian Literature at a university in Edmonton, a nun and professor, (named Dr. Sheedy or Sister Susan) reveals her past as a young instructor at a haunted school full of troubled children in 1950s Ireland. “Haunted school full of troubled children” isn’t the half of what went on in that school.

Sister Susan calmly engages the students telling them they will study Canadian stories in her English literature class. She says that “students rarely read Canadian books, “now you will be forced to.”

As Sister Susan, Margo MacDonald says that stunning line with such calm and understatement you are caught unawares (MacDonald has a dandy way of doing that in all three plays). She notes a surprise in the students when she tells them she is both a nun and a professor. She is not in the traditional habit and wimple. Here hair is short and blonde. She wears black slacks, a crisp white blouse and black jacket with a prominent cross hanging down in front of her white blouse.  “You’re surprised to see me dressed as people” she says. This sense of the normalcy of things that seem exotic and different peppers all three plays.

Sister Susan always wanted to be a nun. She did her training in Ireland in the 1950s at a church named St. Mary’s where she taught the girls. She said ‘I especially love the students I can’t help, no matter how hard I try.” One such student kept trying to escape over the wall near the laundry of the church. Sister Susan was always surprised at how the student could get over the wall, what with being so heavily pregnant.

I suck air when I hear this. I know what this place is.  St. Mary’s is one of the notorious Magdalene laundries overseen by the Catholic Church. They were run in Ireland from the 18th Century to the late 20th century. They were also established in other countries. Young women, pregnant and unmarried, would be taken to one of these churches by their fathers, brothers or boyfriends and left there. They would work in the laundry under terrible conditions, working in corrosive materials, lye soaps without benefit of gloves. Their hands would burn until the skin was raw. When they came to term their babies were taken away, never to be seen again. In one instance a mass grave was found with bones from more than 100 corpses. (Echoes of the horrible news of the bodies of 215 Indigenous children found in a mass grave at a residential school in Kamloops, British Columbia, also run by the Catholic Church). The young women would remain there because their families shunned them.

In Skinless, Sister Susan said that the young women spent four hours in school and six hours working in the laundry. She was particularly taken with this one young woman who tried to escape. Sister Susan staunchly followed the rules of the Church but still took pity on the girl. The girl was found one night clawing at the ground of a hidden area of the grounds. We found out what was there later and it’s chilling.

Kelly Robson’s writing is vivid, stark and startling. She floats a line in so effortlessly and Margo MacDonald’s delivery is so subtle, understated and lacking in judgement, that the juxtaposition of the calm and the horrifying is like a smack in the face. Kudos to director Mary Ellis for her sure hand. Sister Susan says that as a punishment she would “strap the young woman’s hands skinless.” It’s suggested that this young woman might have had a sister who had been at the church earlier. Sister Susan says, “…one sister leaves home and father starts in on the rest.” Two pregnant sisters arrived “one month apart.” Sucking air again.

A stunning story, beautifully done, realizing all its horror.

The Shape of My Teeth

Written by Amal El-Mohtar,

For The Shape of My TeethMargo MacDonald puts on a long curly wig and a full, long coat with red lining. A stool is entwined with wood suggesting a forest. Loved that detail.

In 1827 a woman reflects on her best friend’s mysterious disappearance in Mortimer Forest on the Welsh border. She refuses to be left behind.

A woman tells of her great friendship with her friend Sophie. They were fast friends from girlhood. They know their deep affection for each other is not of the ‘ordinary’ kind. They know their parents want nothing more than for the two girls to marry two brothers and be close as couples. That won’t happen because the women don’t want to marry men.

There was a forest close by, foreboding, perhaps. Intriguing? Definitely. It was rumored to be full of fairies, or the fantastical characters found in stories and books. As the woman tells us as: “What they didn’t know, but would learn soon enough, the forest had no taste for men—girls though…..”

One of the girls suggested they run away and live as they wanted. It was suggested they run away to Canada (I accept this as poetic license since “Canada’ did not exist by that name in 1827). As the women got older their intense love for each other and the efforts to hide it from the outside world, took its toll. Sophie did something drastic and leaves her friend behind. But her friend was so passionate, obsessive in her love, that she refuses to be left behind.

Amal El-Mohtar has created a story of mysticism, intrigue and mystery. She has created the forest as a place of danger and enticement. Her language is full dazzling descriptions, turns of phrases and coded queer references from the times. El-Mohtar has written a compelling story of passion and obsession.

Margo MacDonald has imbued the woman initially with a calm, tempered attitude until later in the play when she refuses to hide her passions. She rages at the world in which Sophie has left her and her determined fierceness at the end is compelling, mesmerizing and dangerous.  

Repositioning

By A.M Dellamonica

For this Margo MacDonald wore a short-sleeved shirt, buttoned to the neck and skinny tie.

In the present day, a seasoned entertainer on the lesbian cruise circuit grapples with memories of an encounter with the unknown while on a Pacific Ocean repositioning cruise, headed to Vancouver, B.C. from Sydney, Australia.

Erica Prince is a lesbian comedienne down on her luck and needs a job. She is preparing an audition tape of her act for an agent in the hopes of getting back on the lesbian circuit. Margo MacDonald plays Erica as brash, overly cheerful and accommodating. She does not wear a wig.  Her patter seems a bit desperate and mannered. She gives asides to the camera in explanation to the person who will watch it.

Erica was on a previous cruise and there was an incident on her day off. She drank too much and when she woke up in her cabin she was soaking wet.  It seems she fell overboard—no she did not jump and try to kill herself, she assures the camera!–and was saved by a mermaid. The mermaid came to life on board and a relationship formed. (This can’t be a spoiler alert since that relationship was so integral to the story).

Erica admits that she has intimacy issues but the bond between Erica and her mermaid is so strong and intense that it continues. The mermaid has issues as well. They try and solve each other’s problems. Promises are made. Erica needs this cruise job in order to keep her promise to her mermaid.

A.M. Dellamonica has created a fantastical story that makes you think it might be real in a way. Again, her language of coded queer references is not intimidating and adds colour to the narrative. Margo MacDonald creates just enough nervous energy in Erica you can’t help but root for her in her quest.

It’s good to see Margo MacDonald performing here in Toronto for a change—she is such a gifted actor. All three stories are a huge accomplishment and well worth your time.

Produced by Parry Riposte Productions

Plays until March 18, 2023.

Running Time: 75 minutes (no intermission)

www.ticketscene.ca

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Live and in person at the Grand Theatre, London, Ont. Until Jan. 29.

www.grandtheatre.com

Written by Andrea Scott

Director and movement director, Ray Hogg

Music Director/composer, Alexandra Kane

Set by Brian Dudkiewicz

Costumes by Ming Wong

Lighting by Jareth Li

Sound by Richard Feren

Projection design by Videocompany

Wade Bogert-O’Brien

Krystle Chance

Starr Domingue

Cameron Grant

Kaylee Harwood

David Keeley

Dominique Leblanc

Beck Lloyd

Monique Lund

Gracie Mack

Stewart Adam McKensy

Danté Prince

Andrea Scott has written an informative, illuminating play about Viola Desmond and the racism she endured in Nova Scotia. Unfortunately, the play is not done justice because of Ray Hogg’s unnecessarily fussy, distracting, attention-grabbing direction.

Background.

I watched, with envy, as playwright Andrea Scott regularly posted on Twitter, her journey to get her play, Controlled Damage produced two years ago at the Neptune Theatre in Halifax, Nova Scotia. It’sa fascinating play about Viola Desmond, the Canadian civil rights icon, who was from Halifax, so to produce it there was a no brainer. Its run was hugely successful, selling out before it even opened—I suspect that Andrea Scott’s determination to keep the play in the mind’s eye, had a lot to do with its success. And of course, one wants to see the play in Toronto.

The second production of the play was scheduled last year for the Grand Theatre in London, Ont. Andrea Scott’s home town, but COVID postponed that production until this year.

I did the next best thing to reviewing a production of the play, I reviewed (March, 2021) the published text of Controlled Damage and I suspect that Scott had a lot to do with getting it published so quickly.

From the blurb on the text: “Controlled Damage explores the life of Canadian civil rights icon Viola Desmond and how her act of bravery in a Nova Scotia movie theatre in 1946 started a ripple effect that is still felt today. An ordinary woman forced to be extraordinary by an unyielding and racist world. Desmond never gave up—despite the personal cost to her and those who loved her. Andrea Scott’s highly theatrical examination of Desmond and her legacy traces the impact she has had on our culture, but also casts light on the slow progress of the fight for social justice and civil rights in Canada.”

One of the positive aspects of Viola Desmond’s fight for justice is that her story is now known across the country and she is commemorated on the $10 bill.

The Story. Viola Desmond had a rich and varied career. What was consistent with each change is that she excelled in whatever she tried. She was tenacious, determined, inventive, creative and independent. She trained as a teacher in Halifax, Nova Scotia. As Andrea Scott establishes in Controlled Damage, Viola was compassionate, gifted and understanding towards her students. As a Black woman she was fully aware of the world of subtle racism to which those students were subjected.  In 1932 Viola Desmond was an eighteen-year-old Black woman when a white superintendent made advances on her that were unwanted.  In this situation she stood her ground with resolve.

By 1936 she left teaching to study in Montreal to become a beautician. Her dream was to have her own beauty parlor and create a line of cosmetic products for Black women. She was also in love with Jack Desmond also from Halifax, a man who typically wanted his wife to stay at home and tend her household ‘duties’ while he made the money.  She wanted to finish her studies. Viola got her way. Jack had his own barbershop and eventually Viola opened her own beauty parlor; created her line of beauty products for Black women and also taught other Black women how to be beautician. Viola began travelling all over Nova Scotia selling and delivering her beauty products.

It was on one of those trips to Sydney, Nova Scotia that her car broke down in New Glasgow. The repair job required that Viola stay the night. On Nov. 8, 1946, Viola went to the Roseland Theatre in New Glasgow to see a movie. She bought a ticket and sat downstairs, as she always did in Halifax, to be close to the screen because she was near sighted. 

A female usher told her she had to move to the balcony because she was not allowed to sit downstairs. Viola showed the usher the ticket and was prepared to pay the difference. That was not the issue. The usher said, “Coloureds don’t sit down here.” Such a policy didn’t exist in Halifax. There were no signs to that effect in the Roseland Theatre. 

Viola understood immediately. She sat there, quietly defiant and continued to watch the film. The Manager came and Desmond would not move. Then the police came and forcibly removed her from the theatre. She was injured in the transaction. She spent the night in jail. The charge was that she did not pay the proper one cent tax on the ticket. She was found guilty. There were appeals that went badly.  Her church reverend wanted her to fight the case and try another appeal. It went to the Supreme Court and was denied because of that technicality of the tax instead of the veiled/unspoken racism of having Blacks sit in the balcony. There were consequences after the trial. Both Jack’s barbershop and Viola’s beauty parlor suffered losses of business. Life was difficult. The marriage suffered.

Controlled Damage is not about the trial as the central theme. It’s about the world that Viola Desmond lived in, the racism she endured from whites and Blacks and the kind of determined woman she was.

The Production. The play takes place between 1917 and 1965, with most of the scenes taking place in 1946. One wonders, then, why set designer Brian Dudkiewicz chose to create an ultramodern square structure made of connected rods suggesting the outline of walls, that were then illuminated in neon. And if you sat on the side of the theatre or perhaps even in the middle, what was projected on the side and back walls might be obscured by the rods. It certainly made reading some of the information on the projections difficult. This structure sat on a raised playing area. Chairs are situated on either side of the playing area. The cast sit there when not in a scene.

Simple set pieces, chairs, a chaise, etc. are carried on and off efficiently. Why then is the outline of the structure necessary?

For some reason, director Ray Hogg has a woman in a coat, shoes and gloves enter the playing area and sit quietly in a chair, center stage as the audience fills in. At one point she takes off her shoes and carefully places them in front of the chair. She walks around.  Why? Who is she? The play hasn’t started so who is she and why is she there? We learn it’s Viola Desmond later on, but what are we to make of her presence before? Mystifying, and never explained.

The first scene of the play takes place Dec. 6, 1917, when Viola is 3-years-old.  Two ships collide in the narrow Halifax Harbour. One was carrying 2925 tons of munitions. There was an explode and the blast killed 2000 and injured hundreds. Three-year-old Viola was in her highchair in the kitchen, with her back to the window. When her father rushed in to see how she was, she was slumped over, the window blind fell on her head and she was covered in glass and she was not moving.  But she was alive. Her father James said: “It’s a miracle, Viola survived that blast. She was spared because the Lord had big plans for my little girl.” Her mother said, “Viola Irene Davis. The girl who lived.” (“The Girl Who Lived” is projected on the back wall). Indeed, that steely resolve at three years-old, imbued her character for her whole life.

This is a very intricate scene that playwright Andrea Scott has fashioned. In the text the scene is noted with the heading: “The Girl Who Lived.” The stage direction is simple: “Multiple spotlights highlight the chorus.” The chorus is noted as “Character A, Character B, and so on until F. But all the characters in the play are indicated in the text as to who they are by name, how old they are etc. Initially each member of the chorus speaks one line in turn that sets up the details of what happened Dec. 1917. Then various characters enter and speak one line of how they were affected (Viola’s father, mother etc.) interspersed with members of the chorus. As I said, it’s intricate.

In the programme at The Grand Theatre all the characters are noted as Woman 1, 2, 3 etc. as are the men, 1, 2, 3. Only Viola (Beck Lloyd)  Jack (Stewart Adam McKensy) and the Fiddler (Dominique Leblanc) are noted by name. So, unless one knows who each actor is already to identify who they are also playing during the production, one is out of luck in trying to figure out the name of the character they are playing.

Rather than keep it simple, with the chorus speaking in place, (“Multiple spotlights highlight the chorus,”) director and movement director, Ray Hogg has his chorus of at least nine, flitting all over the stage while saying their one line in turn. Keeping track of who is talking and what they are actually saying clearly is challenging, to say the least. A lot of the story is lost in what turns out to be confusing rather than illuminating.

Viola was a gifted, committed teacher to her students and used clever ways to teach them. One day the superintendent (Wade Bogert-O’Brien) came in to her class to observe and criticized her for the way she was teaching—having the children throw a ball to coax out a fact—and what she was teaching—about the provinces and slavery. He said they were not renewing her contract but if she was more accommodating to him, sweeter, she could keep her job. He attempted to stroke her cheek and she told him in no uncertain terms not to do that.

Andrea Scott is measured in the information of the scene and spare in the way the superintendent made advances. Ray Hogg however, directs the scene with the subtlety of a sledgehammer. Not only does the superintendent come on to Viola by stroking her cheek, but he also begins to unbuckle his belt and take out part of his tucked in shirt, until a student comes in and interrupts his intention.  Overkill direction to make one suck air and cover one’s eyes.  I felt the same way about a scene in Act II when Ray Hogg has three women dance on stage, throw popcorn in the air and soon after return pushing big brooms in an elaborate dance to sweep up the popcorn. Again, Andrea Scott wrote a simple scene. Ray Hogg’s distracting direction/choreography blew it up.

Projections from Videocompany are also problematic. In the text each scene has a heading to describe it: “Truth and Fiction,” for example. There is also a date and location indicating when and where the scene took place. In the production it would have been simple, efficient and clear to have a projection on the back and side walls of the stage with the heading and the date and place. But not here…..The heading is projected on the back wall and the date and place are projected on the two side walls. One had to be quick to read them. One also had to be lucky nothing obstructed one’s view—from my seat, one of the set’s neon rods always cut off some part of the information on the side wall.

In the text, Andrea Scott ends one of the scenes with the caption: “…multiple images of historic, Black Canadians are projected on the set.” Videocompany clutters the idea by projecting the names (not the images) of historic, Black Canadians plus who they were in smaller print.  There seemed to be different names on different parts of the walls, so one didn’t have enough time to read them all and note who they are. A shame. That information would have been important to read and consider.

As Viola, Beck Lloyd is poised, composed, clear, confident and in control. She illuminates Viola’s resolve, her tenacity, compassion and concern for her students and the Black women she serves as her clients. It’s a nuanced and multi-dimensional performance that towers over the production. The other actors for the most part seem to be directed to over-act or give overly broad performances.  

Andrea Scott illuminates the kind of person Viola was. In her quiet way Viola Desmond (née Davis) was a pioneer as a Black business woman leading the way for others. She was not only a beautician, she created products for Black women and build a business that sold them. It’s noted in the play that you would not find a Black beautician working in a white beauty parlor. But such was Viola’s ability and reputation that she had white and Black customers.

Andrea Scott has written a compelling, thought-provoking, complex play. She explores the racism a Black person had to endure, certainly as it pertained to Viola in that theatre. Scott also explores reverse racism—of her Black friends who consider her “uppity” and “putting on airs” because she’s part white. They don’t want the added attention of this woman who wanted justice for what happened to her at the cinema. They want to forget the incident and go on with their lives.

Scott has fashioned the play as if it was Greek in nature—huge issues are explored—with a Greek chorus that represents the people. Her dialogue is sharp, smart, and vivid.  Viola’s case was taken up with her minister (a dignified Cameron Grant)  and his wife (a determined Krystle Chance) who said: “Everything is not fine. Being tolerated isn’t enough….As long as we stay silent and let people disrespect our right to live with dignity we’re going to our graves unhappy, dissatisfied and broken.”

Scott also explores the politics of skin colour and the nuances in descriptions. Viola was light-skinned because she was of mixed race: her mother was white and her father was Black. A young student of Viola’s who was darker skinned challenged her about how they were treated differently. There are also pointed comments on wanting to straighten hair to look ‘whiter’. The source of the title Controlled Damage is also interesting. A cream is applied to Black hair to straighten it. “…what we’re doing is breaking down the natural strength in Black hair in order to make it smooth and manageable, which is called controlled damage.” The same could be a metaphor for racism to keep a person of colour down, under one’s thumb and ‘manageable.’

Scott also illuminates the subtle difference between the word “Negro” and its connection to slavery, and the word “coloured” to note the difference and create a distance from slavery.

Comment. As noted in the play, Viola Desmond wasn’t an activist. She says she wasn’t a “Rosa Parks” (who was a true activist and was tireless in her pursuit in changing a racist system). She did continue to take her case higher up the legal ladder because as she says: “I did nothing wrong.”  In fact it was others who continued Viola Desmond’s cause long after she died (in 1965 in New York City when she was only 50). But because of the racism she experienced Viola got people to notice and fight for a change. Having her face on the $10 seems a small victory, since racism is still with us in all its ugliness. Still Controlled Damage is an important, necessary play that informs us of how much further we need to go in race relations.

Andrea Scott’s play is terrific. The play deserves to be seen across the country in a much better production, definitely with another director and designer.

The Grand Theatre presents:

Plays until: January 29, 2022.

Running Time: 2 hours 20 minutes (with 1 intermission).

www.grandtheatre.com

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Hi Folks,

It’s that fund-raising time again for CIUT fm. From November 14-20, 2022.

This is my shameless plea to donate to keep the only independent radio station going and to give you radio that covers the arts, unlike any other outlet. The mainstream media has drastically cut down its arts coverage, not CIUT FM.

There are four mainstream daily newspapers that covered theatre regularly. Now there is only one.

On my show, CRITICS CIRCLE  on Saturday mornings 9 am to 10 am (formerly CIUT FRIDAY MORNING,) 89.5 fm we do theatre and film reviews every week, plus interviews. I review theatre around the city and the province. I have supported and championed the marginalized voices through their plays for decades.  For me, theatre is vital in reflecting the world we live in. 

CIUT 89.5 fm gives voice to those who need to be heard.  Our shows are all volunteer. Please go to https://ciut.fm and donate—noting CRITICS CIRCLE– so we can continue to provide needed arts coverage.

Added Bonus: The wonderful Harold Green Jewish Theatre Company at the Meridian Centre in North York is offering TWO tickets to the opening night, Nov. 17, to OLD STOCK: A Refugee Love Story, to the first person who donates $250, noting CRITICS CIRCLE in our fundraising. The show is wonderful. Please donate. Thanks.

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Review: BAD PARENT

by Lynn on September 22, 2022

in The Passionate Playgoer

Live and in person at the Young Centre for the Performing Arts, co-produced by Soulpepper, Vancouver Asian Canadian Theatre and Prairie Theatre Exchange. Playing until Oct. 9.

www.soulpepper.ca

Written by Ins Choi

Directed by Meg Roe

Set and props by Sophie Tang

Sound and music by Deanna H Choi

Costumes by Brenda McLean

Lighting by Gerald King

Cast: Josette Jorge

Raugi Yu

A play that will prick the attention of a lot of people because of the subject matter—parenting, raising children, coping with a crying baby and not having a clue about what to do about it.

The Story. Bad Parent is a comedy about the trials and tribulations of first-time parents. In this case, Nora and her husband Charles are the parents of an 18-month-old boy named Mountain. That was Charles’ choice for a name not really Nora’s.  They can’t agree on anything about raising the baby. Nora is still nursing him and Charles thinks the baby is past that at 18 months. The baby still sleeps in their bed because he cries when they put him in his crib and they can’t stand it.  Charles buys a bed for Mountain at Ikea and doesn’t tell Nora about his decision. He just brings the box home and begins to assemble it. They can barely agree on how they met. Nora worked in film production before taking a leave to have the baby. Charles wrote jingles and Nora got him a job with her production company as a music supervisor. Nora longs to go back to work and does by hiring a nanny without telling Charles.

The Production. Set and props designer Sophie Tang, has created a child’s toy room with a wall unit compartmentalized into squares in which each square is packed either with lots of toys or containers for toys. There is a hamper with clothes on the floor and lots and lots of toys strewn around the floor.

As the audience fills into the theatre, Raugi Yu as Charles enters with a large IKEA box and proceeds to unpack all the stuff needed for the baby’s bed. I’m mighty impressed that he can put the thing together without frustration or incident—there is a moment when Charles does bang his finger, but for most of it, his dexterity with those ‘notorious’ ‘simple’ pictorial instructions is impressive.

In the meantime, Josette Jorge enters on stage and engages with the audience. I’m not sure what she is saying but she seems very personable in her interactions and I’m not sure if she is in character as Nora. Perhaps this is director Meg Roe illuminating that this is theatre and Josette Jorge is ‘breaking’ the fourth wall?

Ok, let’s address the ‘elephant in the room’:   Does it help people to empathize with the characters in the play if one has children?

I’m subscribing to the notion that it takes a village to raise a child. Of course, those of us who don’t have children have a different take on the play. Those of us who have extensive babysitting experience with young cousins and family members can use that to provide a sense that we have some idea of how difficult raising young kids is. (Note: all the kids for whom I babysat are all grown or getting there, well-adjusted and not harmed by my baby-sitting abilities and are still talking to me, or at least most of them are).  We have all sorts of advice on how to raise children since they aren’t ours. It seems a clear-eyed view when you can say “thank you and good night” and go home, leaving the baby/kid with the parents.

Playwright Ins Choi, offers some interesting insights into the difficulty of raising the child, by the structure of the play. Nora and Charles address the audience directly, talking into microphones as if trying to get us on their side. In a way it’s the modern way of doing things. Every idea, thought, accusation etc. has to be public as if constantly on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. We learn Nora and Charles’ innermost thoughts, concerns, accusations of the other, the bickering.  They are almost always side by side vying for our attention and favour.

To make matters even more interesting, both actors: Josette Jorge as Nora and Raugi Yu as Charles also play the nanny, also called Norah but spelled with an ‘h’ and Dale, a male colleague of Nora at the film company. In those cases, the other characters deal directly.  So, Dale talks directly to Nora without the microphones. And Norah the nanny talks directly to Charles, who has gotten over his irritation at not being consulted when his wife hired the nanny.  Both Nora and Charles seem to relax and are less anxious when dealing with Dale and Norah respectively, who support and encourage them. In the case of Norah the nanny, Charles is even more grateful for her presence because she puts Mountain in his crib to sleep and he stays there without crying. And Norah can cook wonderful dishes from her native Philippines. She is supporting her two sons who are back home and her dream is to save enough money to bring them to this country. 

Charles comes up with the great idea that Norah should open a food truck since her food is so delicious. Charles will do the jingle and marketing for the truck and his wife Nora can do the business plan. Of course, Charles hasn’t told Nora of this yet.  Perhaps a bit of a glitch in the play is that if Norah is working in the food truck, then she can’t be the nanny anymore. There is no reference about this, except that Nora the wife is aghast at the idea of the food truck because she thinks her inheritance from her mother will be used to fund the truck.  

It’s hard to tell who is the bad parent. I think that’s part of the irony of the play—it’s not called Bad Parents. Both Nora and Charles blame each other and would say the other is the bad parent.

It seems like a lot to unpack here.  Director Meg Roe does an earnest job of directing her committed cast of Josette Jorge as both Nora and Norah and Raugi Yu as both Charles and Dale. When Josette Jorge and Raugi Yu are playing husband and wife the tone is relentlessly argumentative and combative, and even ramps up as their frustration with the other escalates, and that’s tiresome.

At one point Nora says that she has been berated by opinionated people who criticize her for still nursing Mountain, and then she takes a baby bottle from a shelf and leaves as if to feed him. Is this a change in her attitude? Should that not be acknowledged in the play?  

When Josette Jorge and Raugi Yu are playing the Nora the nanny and Dale the colleague the scenes are more varied and even funnier. Josette Jorge as Norah the nanny is particularly nuanced and personable.

Truth to tell, I found Bad Parent frustrating. It’s not that either Nora or Charles is a bad parent. It’s that both of them are a lousy couple because they don’t talk or listen to each other. It’s obvious for 75 of the 90 minutes of the play. They seem to be spiraling out of control in how to deal with each other, never mind the child, and I reckon, it’s obvious to the audience that they need to talk and listen to each other and not us and deal with everything.

They finally do that in the last bit of the play. They look at each other and actually talk. So often there is a good parent who is firm and consistent and the bad parent who crumbles and gives in all the time. That can be funny, but it’s also frustrating because the consequences of these confused messages to the child results in one spoiled, confused kid. It’s like the audience is watching an accident happen that they know how to prevent it quickly.

I can appreciate that people having children are not trained to be parents. They learn on the job.But in Bad Parentneither Nora nor Charles seems to have any kind of consensus about anything and their constant disagreement is not funny, it’s frustrating at best and concerning since even the simplest of conversations didn’t take place before this momentous decision to have a child, regarding how that kid will be raised. It’s not that Nora and Charles are not on the same page. It’s more like there isn’t even a page on which to be on together.

Comment. Many of us might not have children, but we sure live in a world full of lots of parents’ screwups.

At the introductions of the crew etc. at the end of the opening performance, Ins Choi was introduced and came to the stage to read a poem he wrote to help guide him through the writing process. The poem was about soldiering through, keeping on keeping on, staring at the blank page but not being defeated. It was a wonderful poem. I hope all the poems he wrote get published. Ins Choi is a gifted writer/playwright/poet. I think Bad Parent needs a re-think and a re-write to make its bumps less obvious.

A co-production with Soulpepper Theatre Company Vancouver Asian Canadian Theatre and Prairie Theatre Exchange, presents:

Plays until: Oct. 9, 2022.

Running Time: 90 minutes, (no intermission).

www.soulpepper.ca

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Review: KING LEAR

by Lynn on September 21, 2022

in The Passionate Playgoer

Live and in person at The Young Centre for the Performing Arts, Soulpepper Theatre Company, Toronto, Ont. . King Lear playing in rep at Soulpepper until Oct. 1, and Queen Goneril playing until Oct. 2, 2022.

www.soulpepper.ca

NOTE: Soulpepper Theatre is presenting King Lear by William Shakespeare and Queen Goneril by Erin Shields in repertory. Erin Shields wrote Queen Goneril as a feminist companion piece to King Lear. The casts are the same for both as are the creatives (except for the directors). 

We are told that each play stands on its own and you can see them in any order. But I think to put things in context it’s better to see King Learfirst to get the story and then to see Queen Gonerilto see how cleverly playwright Erin Shields references King Lear in her own play.

I will review each separately.

King Lear

Written by William Shakespeare

Directed by Kim Collier

Set by Ken MacKenzie

Costumes by Judith Bowden

Lighting by Kimberly Purtell

Sound by Thomas Ryder Payne

Cast: Damien Atkins

Helen Belay

Oliver Dennis

Sheldon Elter

Virgilia Griffith

Varum Guru

Breton Lalama

Annie Luján

Tom McCamus

Nancy Palk

Jordan Pettle

Shaquille Pottinger

Philip Riccio

Vanessa Sears

Klana Woo

Jonathan Young

Director Kim Collier’s has created a bloated, self-indulgent production in which she seems to think the audience hasn’t read a book, has no imagination and is a stranger to nuance. Strong acting though.

The Story. King Lear by William Shakespeare, is about a king who divides his land among his three daughters and all hell breaks loose as a result. King Lear is getting on in years and he decides to divide his kingdom among his three daughters: Goneril (the eldest), Regan the middle one and Cordelia, the youngest and his favourite. His plan is to visit each daughter for a month, taking with him 100 knights, and he will keep all the titles and rank of king. In other words, he’s making his kingdom smaller to rule and his daughters will take care of him each month but he still rules the land.

But first he plays a little game with them in public, in the court. He asks each daughter in turn how much she loves him and in exchange he will give each a prized parcel of the kingdom. In the case of Cordelia, whom he describes as “our joy” he asks her to express her love so she can get a parcel of land better than her sisters. This seems a cruel game to me since he’s already divided up the land evenly (we are told so in the first speech of the play).

But matters get messy. Cordelia won’t play the game. She says that she loves Lear as a daughter should. Lear wants to hear more from her and she won’t give it so he takes her parcel of land away and gives it to the two other sisters. Needless to say that King Lear is in a rage– Lear hates to be contradicted. A courtier, Kent, pleads the case of Cordelia and Lear banishes him.

Cordelia is being courted by two men, France and Burgundy, and Lear tells them that Cordelia gets no dowry and they must decide who will marry her. Burgundy refuses her. France accepts her on her own. The other two daughters balk when King Lear and his men visit and they are rowdy.

And it goes downhill from there. Lean almost goes mad before he learns the truth. There is another foolish father in Gloucester and his two sons: Edgar, his legitimate son and Edmund, his bastard, vengeful son.

The Production.  Let’s talk about the positive first—the acting is dandy. As King Lear, Tom McCamus plays him as a man’s man, who loves to be the center of attention. He lobs a joke for those in attendance. He plays games with his daughters to bolster his ego and to have them ‘dance’ to his bidding in exchange for a parcel of the kingdom. Tom McCamus also illuminates Lear’s irrational behaviour when he is crossed or challenged. His temper is explosive, his movements big and almost uncontrollable. Patience is not his strong point. Goneril and Regan feel that his old age might be the cause of this irrational behaviour.  Interestingly his courtiers are not just yes people so it’s interesting to see how others try and reason with him.

Virgilia Griffith as Goneril, Vanessa Sears as Regan and Helen Belay as Cordelia all reveal their character’s hidden emotions. Goneril and Regan know how to play the “Tell me how much you love me game.” They flatter, are coy, but eventually their true feelings are revealed. Lear shows little affection to Goneril so Virgilia Griffith reveals a hardened woman as a result. When Cornwall (Regan’s husband) wants to punish Gloucester, it’s Goneril who suggests that they pluck out his eyes. Regan wants to hang him. These are two damaged women. Helen Belay as Cordelia, is more controlled and even-tempered. She is not using the fact that Lear loves her the most, but she is confident in herself to deal with Lear as an adult.

Jonathan Young plays up Edmund’s anger that he is treated by Gloucester as the bastard son. Of course we only have Edmund’s word for that. Gloucester (Oliver Dennis) is another father who thinks nothing of teasing and joking about his son in public, especially that he’s a bastard and that there was good sport in his conception. Jonathan Young hides his vindictiveness behind a smooth veneer of confidence and poise. Oliver Dennis as Gloucester is both a courtly man and one who is a bit silly with his vulgar jokes. But he is truly moving as Gloucester when he is blinded by Cornwall (Philip Riccio) and finds solace with the mysterious Poor Tom, who is really his son Edgar (a touching Damien Atkins). Nancy Palk is mournful and wise as The Fool.  

But more than anything, this was a case of the director Kim Collier’s concept that swallowed the production.  She didn’t trust Shakespeare’s play to tell the story or the audience to be able to figure it out without everything spelled out in phonetics.

Ken MacKenzie is usually an inventive, creative designer but you would hardly know it with the set he designed here.  The set is composed of two massive arched structures that are laboriously moved around the stage by the cast. When the structures are pushed together they practically take over the whole stage leaving a small space on which the cast has to act. The cast seemed to be pushing and pulling those cumbersome set pieces to establish a new location for every scene—as if the audience wasn’t capable of ‘imagining’ a new location without those unwieldy arches ‘setting’ the scene. And they had been moved so often it was hard to recognize where we were anyway.

You just cover your eyes in disbelief at some of Kim Collier’s directorial decisions. It’s not enough that in the very first scene Gloucester and Kent indicate that King Lear has already divided the land absolutely evenly, Collier adds a scene before that to show us King Lear dividing the land after much thought. There is Lear, alone, sitting on his throne, pondering, stroking his chin. He picks up a map of the land and holds it up so we can see it clearly. He puts it on the table and looks at it and strokes his chin. He wanders and ponders. He takes a ‘sharpie’ and makes two strokes in the map—voilá the kingdom is divided.  (The speech between Gloucester and Kent gives a subtle hint King Lear has divided the land amongst his sons-in-law–Cornwall and Albany—played by Philip Riccio and Jordan Pettle respectively, rather than the daughters).

In Kim Collier’s vision of King Lear there is a ceremony after Lear divides the kingdom between Goneril and Regan, in which each daughter sits at a table, a binder with a document is placed in front of them by Edmund who then opens a rectangular box and takes out a pen for each daughter to sign. Mindboggling. In my edition of the play at least, Edmund is a stranger to the court. He’s been away for nine years. Kent recognizes him and Gloucester introduces him and the joke about him being a bastard. How then does Edmund have an administrative job in King Lear’s court making sure documentation is signed? One would think that logic has to come into the direction at some juncture, but not when the concept is more important than the play, I guess.  

In Kim Collier’s vision characters come and see other characters at their dwelling and the visiting characters drag luggage on wheels behind them, as if we can’t imagine they would come without a change of undies?

When Cornwall realizes that Gloucester might be a traitor to his cause he wants to do him harm. Regan suggests they hang Gloucester. Goneril suggests they “pluck out his eyes.” Cornwall thinks this is a good idea so he goes to his ‘weapons drawer’ and pulls out a gun.

I look at the gun, then at Gloucester’s eyes, then the gun and think, “REALY?? You’re going to shoot out his eyes?” (I’m actually rolling mine at this point.) Then Cornwall thinks better of it and puts the gun back in the drawer and takes out a knife that looks like it’s 10 inches long. “Really? Are you also going to do a lobotomy on the man as well,” I wonder?

(And to add another concerning note: After Gloucester is blinded, the blood is dripping down his face and Oliver Dennis as Gloucester gives the most touching speech, the two young actors behind him spend that speech wiping their hands of the blood–they held down Gloucester in the de-eyeballing scene– thus upstaging Oliver Dennis and distracting us from listening. Please stop that wiping. Please. STOP, at least until the speech is finished).

Decisions like these make the production cumbersome, silly, thoughtless and put a terrible burden on the cast, who work hard to do the play.  

At 3 hours and 45 minutes the production should be cut of all the set moving and other extraneous nonsense and just do the play.

Comment. I love the play. It’s so dense and complex about relationships. To me, Lear is an abusive father. You don’t get damaged daughters like that on their own. Ditto with Gloucester and Edmund. There is so much to explore. Kim Collier’s reputation as a director is one in which a dazzling concept is more important than actually digging into the text. This bloated production carries on that reputation. Ugh.

Soulpepper Theatre Company presents:

Plays until: Oct. 1, 2022.

Running Time: 3 hours, 45 minutes (!!) (2 intermissions).

www.soulpepper.ca

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Live and in person at the Stratford Festival, Tom Patterson Theater, Stratford, Ont. Until Oct. 29, 2022.

www.stratfordfestival.ca

Written by Wole Soyinka

Directed by Tawiah M’Carthy

Set by Rachel Forbes

Costumes by Sarah Uwadiae

Lighting by Christopher Dennis

Sound by Debashis Sinha

Music director/composer, Adékúnlé Olórundáre (Kunle)

Choreography by Jaz ‘Fairy J’ Simone

Cast: Graham Abbey

Kwaku Adu-Poku

Celia Aloma

Akosua Amo-Adem

Bola Aiyeola

isi bhakhomen

Maev Beaty

Déjah Dixon-Green

Ijeoma Emesowum

Rachel Jones

Matthew Kabwe

Kevin Kruchkywich

Josue Labourcane

Pulga Muchochoma

Ngabo Nabea

Andrea Rankin

Anthony Santiago

Tyrone Savage

Espoir Segbeaya

Amaka Umeh

Norman Yeung

Onstage Musicians/Yoruba Drums:

Amado Dedeu Garcia

Adékúnlé Olórundáre (Kunle)

Erik Samuel

Oluwakayode Sodunke

Death and the King’s Horseman is brisling with drama, poetry, ceremony, tradition and racism. The production is stunning.

The Story. Death and the King’s Horseman is a Nigerian classic that premiered in 1975. The play takes place in Nigeria during WWII when it was under British colonial rule.

A Yoruba King has died the month before. The tradition dictates that the King’s Horseman, Elesin, is required to accompany him into the afterlife. That means he has to commit suicide.

But this sacred ritual is interrupted when the ruling British overseers stop the tradition—they think it barbaric– resulting in an unforeseen tragedy.  Based on actual events in British-occupied Nigeria, Wole Soyinka’s play shares the story of a community striving to uphold its culture in the face of colonial power.  If the process is interrupted then the spirit of the dead king roams the earth and can wreak havoc on the people because of his disturbed spirit. The success of crops and the economy are also affected.

Elesin considered this tradition an honour to fulfill. He is a hugely confident man, totally aware of his stature in the community because of this honour and he was going to play it to the hilt. Here is a wonderful speech he gives: “In all my life as a horseman of the King, the juiciest fruit on every tree was mine. I saw. I touched, I wooed. Rarely was the answer no. The honour of my place; the veneration I received in the eye of man or woman prospered my suit, played havoc with my sleeping hours, and they tell me my eyes were always in perpetual hunger.”

Glorious. The language and rhythms of Nigeria as exemplified in Soyinka’s play are seductive, evocative and gleaming. When I say he played his part to the hilt, he also got greedy.

Elesin planned to marry the most beautiful young woman in the village, have the wedding night and do his husbandly duties, thus carrying on his line, then follow the King into the afterlife soon after. But the women of the village take him to task for his hubris: first in the person of Olohun-iyo a praise singer, and then Iyaloja, Mother of the Market. Those women of the market were fiercely independent and could and did stand up to the revered King’s Horseman.

To make matters even trickier, Elesin’s chosen bride was actually betrothed to a young man who was the son of Iyaloja, Mother of the Market. But tradition dictates that what the Horseman wants before he goes on his ‘final’ journey, he gets.  

Elesin has an obvious verve for life and determination to have as much pleasure before he has to give up his life. Elesin knows and believes in the importance of the tradition, but the women are fearless in letting him know that his humility and sense of entitlement leave a lot to be desired.  

With the British in Nigeria Soyinka addresses the difference in cultures and how one treats the other. It’s one of the many beauties of the play. The arrogance and contempt of the British, exemplified in Simon Pilkings and others, for the traditions of the people of the village are obvious. Pilkings represents the quintessential overpowering culture who has no reason to learn anything about the place or people whom he is colonizing. Pilkings was going to stop the fulfilling of the tradition because he didn’t agree with suicide. He didn’t care about the ramifications and consequences.

The Production. It’s terrific. Director Tawiah M’Carthy has directed a production full of the music, drama, throbbing beat and heart of the play. He got a head start when he also directed the audio version of this play as part of the Around the World in 80 Plays series, produced by Soulpepper June 2021, where I heard it and love it too.

His direction of the play for the Stratford Festival, is assured, confident, all embracing of the audience and carefully measured for the maximum effect. When the people of the market are on their own, there is an ease and confidence in their body language, expressions, singing and joy. When they come under the watchful, judging gaze of the British there is a stiffness a reticence.

This is certainly realized when trouble starts to brew during the visit of a royal party from Britain to the area. There are references that native Nigerians became Christians during Pilkings’ stay, so one can assume pressure was put on them to convert. The Pilkings want to put on a good show and want everything to be uneventful for the royal visit. They organize a costume party for the occasion in which Mr. and Mrs. Pilkings (Graham Abbey and Maev Beaty) wear a sacred mask as part of the costume, completely oblivious of their disrespect to the Yoruba culture.

Added to this are Elesin’s (Anthony Santiago) intended suicide and the preliminary ceremonies before that. He has delayed the inevitable for so long with his own celebrations—earning the wrath of Iyaloja and the other women of the market—that it gives Pilkings the needed time to intervene and try and stop the ceremony. What Pilkings hadn’t considered is Elesin’s son, Olunde (Kwaku Adu-Poku).

Years before, against his father’s will and with the encouragement of Mr. and Mrs. Pilkings, Olunde was sent to England to be educated. He then trained to be a doctor. But with the death of the king, he knew that his father would soon traditionally follow his king to the afterlife. Olunde came home to bury his father.

Kwaku Adu-Poku as Olunde, every inch a formidable presence. Calm, confident, poised in a beautifully tailored brown suit, tie and shoes, the effects of a British way of life are clear. But Olunde is also a man of his people and he knows how to navigate both worlds. When he confronts Mrs. Pilkings in her Nigerian costume, he is polite but eventually pointed.  

He says to her: “You have no respect for what you don’t understand.” And he says of the costume party. ”…that is the good cause for which you desecrate an ancestral mask.” Again, rather than see her cultural blunder and apologize Mrs. Pilkings says to him, “So you returned with a chip on your shoulder.”

The play was written in the 1970s and I think it’s as timely today as it was then.  You don’t get the sense that attitudes have changed toward other cultures. And it’s interesting to note that Wole Soyinka was so observant about the differences in British and Nigerian culture.  (He wrote the play at Cambridge).

Mr. Pilkings didn’t share anything important about his work with his wife—no need for her to know. She was not treated as an equal in that marriage or was considered important in her husband’s work. She was someone to be a cordial hostess to the British upper classes, without learning about the people for whom the British were acting as ‘protectors.’

But in Nigeria those women of the market were fiercely independent and could and did stand up to the revered King’s Horseman and anyone else who challenged their way of life. I loved that juxtaposition.

For the Stratford production Tawiah M’Carthy and his creative team fill the Tom Patterson stage with the colour of the costumes (Sarah Uwadiae) and the bustle and energy of the market place–complete with mounds of spices, fruits, vegetables, music and dance. Kudos to Rachel Forbes for her set of the market place etc. that put the audience right in the centre of that energy.  

Before we hear the language of the play, which is dense and poetic, we hear the throb of the drumming. The subtle drumming is the heart-beat of the play; the conscience of the people. No less important in the cast of characters is the almost constant presence of drumming, composed by Adékúnlé Olórundáre (Kunle) and played by him and his fellow musicians.

The rhythms are so particular in the language of the play and the cast nails them. The cadence, pace and emotion just grip you. You get the sense of bursting life and pride in Elesin by Anthony Santiago’s performance. There is confidence, verve and a bristling energy in his delivery and an arrogance in his pride of place.

There is impish joy and beautiful singing by Amaka Umeh as Olohun-iyo—the Praise Singer. Umeh’s movement is as agile as her singing.

Akosua Amo-Adem plays Iyaloja-Mother of the Market and she is astonishing. There is power in her stillness as she stares down Elesin or anyone she thinks gets in her way to carrying out tradition or standing up for her culture. She quietly takes Elesin to task for his hubris and other ills. Formidable.  

Graham Abbey as Simon Pilkings has that haughty, distracted air about him when dealing with people he feels are lesser. And there is also a sense of worry that this new trouble might be something he can’t control with arrogance. And Maev Beaty as Jane Pilkings has that arrogance as well although in a subtler version.

Comment. Death and the King’s Horseman might be an odd choice of a play for the Stratford Festival,  but here is an effort to acknowledge classics of another culture, in this case the Yaruba culture of Nigeria, and this play by Wole Soyinka, a Nobel Prize winning author. The Stratford Festival was a partner with Soulpepper in producing the audio version a year ago June.

Rather than look at a play from ‘our’ culture and our point of view and how it compares to us, Death and the King’s Horseman makes us look at it fresh, anew, from the Nigerian point of view. Their people, culture and traditions were being ‘managed’ by the colonizing British and the Nigerian’s were standing up and ‘pushing’ back to protect their culture.

Something happened during the opening that was wonderful in experiencing the play with a definite mixed audience in which many people were in traditional Nigerian dress. We all experience a play and production in our own, different way, and it’s important to embrace that difference as a learning, educational experience. Often when a character took the British to task with a truth, many in the audience murmured and snapped their fingers in approval.  We all need to hear that and learn about another way of experiencing the play.

At one point Pilkings demands that this ritual suicide be explained to him and a quiet voice in the audience asked, “Why?” Part of the audience also murmured quiet approval of that question. We all need to hear that comment and learn about another way of experiencing the play.

That can’t happen if we are separated into segregated audiences, which happens occasionally with some productions. This bracing experience of listening to another way of appreciating the play, proves it’s best when we are all together in a room, as a community, experiencing a play in many different, respectful ways.  

Loved this production.

The Stratford Festival presents:

Plays until: Oct. 29, 2022.

Running Time: 2 hours, 40 minutes.

www.stratfordfestival.ca

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Live and in person at the Shaw Festival, Festival Theatre, Niagara-on-the-Lake, Ont. Until Oct. 8.

www.shawfest.com

Written by Bernard Shaw

Adapted by Diana Donnelly

Directed by Diana Donnelly

Set by Gillian Gallow

Costumes by Rachel Forbes

Lighting by Michelle Ramsay

Sound by Ryan deSouza

Cast: David Adams

Jason Cadieux

Sharry Flett

Katherine Gauthier

Alexis Gordon

Nathanael Judah

Claire Jullien

Allan Louis

Michael Man

Johnathan Sousa

Sanjay Talwar

A bold, even daring interpretation of Shaw’s play, reflecting our quickly changing times dealing with medical issues that affect us all. At times the design—both set and costumes– muddy the interpretation.

Background. Bernard Shaw’s The Doctor’s Dilemma premiered in 1906 at the Royal Court Theatre in London, England. Director Diana Donnelly has updated the play to reflect our world of 2022. She has cut a character, amalgamated dialogue of another and changed the gender of the character of Sir Patrick Cullen who is now Dr. Patricia Cullen. She has also changed Dr. Colenso Ridgeon from just having been knighted to having received the Nobel Prize, because she has moved the play out of England to the ‘here and now.’ (Being knighted and getting the Nobel Prize have both occasionally come with their own questionable baggage).  The language has also been updated. With all the changes, Diana Donnelly is firm that she has served the spirit of Shaw in his play.

The Story. If you were a doctor with a new cure for a disease but were only able to take on a limited number of patients on whom to give the cure, how would you decide what patient to select for the cure?  Would you choose a gifted artist who, alas, is a lying, cheating, womanizer, or would you choose a poor hard-working doctor who caters to the downtrodden, but is unremarkable except for his devotion to his patients? Such a dilemma is facing Dr. Colenzo Ridgeon when Jennifer Dubedat comes to plead the case of her ill husband, artist, Louis Dubedat. Dr. Ridgeon is struck by Mrs. Dubedat’s conviction and her husband’s talent. To make matters more complicated Ridgeon has fallen in love with Mrs. Dubedat. Dr. Ridgeon meets Louis Dubedat. Ridgeon finds Dubedat to be arrogant, pompous, a cheater and a thief. His art work is impressive but Dubedat is horrible. What does Dr. Ridgeon do?

The Production. Director Diana Donnelly has adapted the play to include modern references and place the play in the “here and now.” She has made Dr. Colenzo Ridgeon’s (Sanjay Talwar) honour the Nobel Prize and not a knighthood in order to shift the play away from England and make it more universal. Sanjay Talwar plays Dr. Ridgeon with a lovely sense of himself, but is not arrogant about it. Talwar gives a lovely performance.  

Designer Gillian Gallow has created a sleek setting to suggest the modernity of the vision. Act I takes place in Dr. Colenso Ridgeon’s condo (and not his consulting room as per Shaw’s stage directions). There is a long, bluish backdrop window? Screen? Spare furnishings that don’t look too comfortable or conducive to welcoming company.

Dubedat’s studio in Act III in the program is listed as “The Dubedat’s studio/loft. Now that can’t be right because the studio here is down a flight of rickety stairs, past two small windows high on a wall, to the basement and the actual area for painting is away from any useful light around a corner and over there. There seems to be a bedroom or some kind of room off from this. So the Dubedat’s live in a basement? Louis Dubedat (Johnathan Sousa) paints in a basement with little light? I don’t think so. A bit of an eyebrow knitter there. A working (?) toilet is under the stairs. The walls are full of lashings of paint, unreadable printing on the walls—the light is terrible, on purpose—(Michelle Ramsay does the lighting). There is a throne-like-chair up in an alcove presumably where Louis paints. Gillian Gallow is a wonderful designer. This design of the studio makes no sense.

Rachel Forbes costumes are at times arresting and other times, odd. Dr. Colenzo Ridgeon is conservatively dressed in shirt, jacket and pants and smart shoes. Sanjay Talwar as Dr. Colenzo Ridgeon is both humbled with his new honour—all sorts of friends come to congratulate him—and a bit harried. His housekeeper Emmy (Claire Jullien) wants him to see a woman about her sick husband and Ridgeon refuses.

Emmy is a long-time employee. She has worked for Ridgeon for years and treats him like a young son to be bossed. But the costumes for the character confuse the issue. Claire Jullien as Emmy notes the character is old, but she’s dressed in jeans, a work shirt and high-top sneakers. The dress and the dialogue don’t go together. Claire Jullien plays her like an irreverent teen. Whether it’s a director’s decision or an actor’s choice, it’s interesting but ultimately doesn’t work to clarify the point.

As Dr. Patricia Cullen, Sharry Flett is sleek, stylish, and always watchable. I loved that director Diana Donnelly felt that in the “here and now” one of the doctors should be a woman and that she chose that Dr. Cullen should be changed from being a male character to a woman. Dr. Cullen is the smartest, most intelligent most knowing character in the play. She knows ‘bs’ when she hears it, and Sharry Flett never leaves in doubt how Dr. Patricia Cullen feels about anything.

As the other characters arrive and spout about their ‘discoveries’ there is Dr. Cullen watchful and slightly critical at the stupidity and blinkered ideas of her colleagues. Sharry Flett is always understated, never obvious or overplayed, but always compelling. Dr. Cullen had seen it all before, knows her history and how these ‘discoveries’ were always coming back to embarrass the newest ‘discoverer’, who obviously didn’t know their medical history or what came before them.

I found the juxtaposition of Dr. Cullen’s frequent references to how old she was and the way that Rachel Forbes costumed the character to be interesting, but at odds—modern skinny pants, trendy shoes, an elegant top and fashionable hair cut with the natural hair colour of the actor. It was as if the character’s fashion sense and Shaw’s words some how had a slight disconnect. 

Dr. Cutler Walpole (Allan Louis) enters next. He is supremely confident about his abilities—he believes if anyone is sick it’s because of blood-poisoning and the nuciform sac should be removed at once. No matter the symptoms, for Dr. Walpole the cause is always blood-poisoning and the solution is to remove that (non-existent) nuciform sac.

Rachel Forbes dresses Allan Louis in a vibrant red suit, shirt, and tie and equally striking shoes. The suit says “Look at me!” It accentuates the arrogance of this blinkered doctor. Dr. Ralph Bloomfield Bonnington (David Adams) arrives next to congratulate Ridgeon and to expound on his theories. In this case Dr. Bloomfield Bonnington believes that the cure for all disease is to stimulate the phagocytes and they will do the rest. In this case Rachel Forbes dresses Dr. Bloomfield Bonnington in a light blue suit that has a wild pattern of what looks like clouds or something as attention grabbing but just as improbable. In both cases, the costumes indicate in neon that these two doctors are blowhards and dangerous. Ok, but I thought that was laying it on with a trowel. Surely the audience can figure out these doctors without the neon focus? Nice acting from both Allan Louis and David Adams.

Matters ratchet up when Jennifer Dubedat (Alexis Gordon) arrives to plead her husband, Louis’, case to be saved by Dr. Ridgeon. Alexis Gordon as Jennifer Dubedat is impassioned, determined and singled-minded when trying to convince Dr. Ridgeon to save her husband Louis Dubedat. She extols his virtues, his keen intelligence and his brilliant artistry. By the end of her pleading Ridgeon, Walpole and Bloomfield Bonnington are affected. Even Dr. Cullen is touched. Ridgeon has ulterior motives regarding Dubedat—he’s smitten by Jennifer and if Dubedat dies, Ridgeon can move in. He thinks.

When we meet Louis Dubedat (Johnathan Sousa) one does one’s own assessing of the importance of art, the creation of beauty and living a good, helpful if unremarkable life, and what is more important.

Louis Dubedat is a self-absorbed, narcissistic scoundrel. He is a womanizer—there is a wronged-wife who appears unbeknownst to Jennifer. Louis and his wife are invited to a dinner party hosted by the doctors, and valuables begin to go missing and Louis is the culprit.

Johnathan Sousa plays Louis Dubedat like a preening, impish spoiled teenager. He knows how to work a crowd, charm people and not show he cares what people think in the least. He creates art and that is the most important thing to him. His facility with arguing and proving his point is both impressive and frustrating—he will never ever admit that he might be wrong or a louse.

In her effort to make the play more modern and timely, Diana Donnelly gives Louis Dubedat a showy scene in which Sousa riffs on the contradictions that are Shaw. He is a feminist, a vegetarian and an anti-vaxxer! The verve in which Sousa gives this speech is impressive, but truth to tell, I think it really goes off topic—interesting thoughts though.  

Comment. Diana Donnelly has made the segue from terrific actor to compelling, fascinating director. In the productions I have seen her direct, she has a clear vision of the heart of the plays she works on. Her sense of imagination is vivid and how to tell the story in an inventive way is impressive. Her ideas for The Doctor’s Dilemma are bold, arresting, indicate a keen intelligence and a solid confidence. I do agree gladly with some of her decisions and disagree with some of her conclusions and the presentation, but her work is always so full of imagination and brains, and that includes this production too. The fun is listening to Shaw’s bristling play and in seeing what works and what doesn’t in Diana Donnelly’s production and why.

The Shaw Festival Presents:

Plays until: Oct. 8, 2022

Running time: 3 hours (1 intermission)

www.shawfest.com

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Live and in person at the Stratford Festival, Tom Patterson Theatre, until Oct. 29, 2022.

www.stratfordfestival.ca

Written by William Shakespeare

Directed by Scott Wentworth

Designed by Michelle Bohn

Lighting by Louise Guinand

Composer and sound designer, Paul Shifton

Choreographer, Adrienne Gould

Cast: Sean Arbuckle

Peter M. Bailey

Nigel Bennett

Wayne Best

Michael Blake

Ben Carlson

Jon de Leon

Allison Edwards-Crewe

Jordin Hall

Jessica B. Hill

Kim Horsman

Hilary McCormack

Seana McKenna

Irene Poole

André Sills

Ryland Wilkie

And others…..

A thoughtful, beautifully created production about finding one’s way, growing up, facing the truth and finding love.

The Story.  Bertram is the son of the Countess Rossillion whose husband has recently died.  Helen is the orphaned daughter of a renowned doctor who worked in the court of the Countess. In a way the Countess raised both Bertram and Helen. Over time Helen came to love Bertram as a future husband. Growing up, Bertram looked on Helen as a playmate, but not as a wife. Because Bertram’s father has recently passed away the King of France became his guardian. Bertram had hopes of going to see the King to get permission to then go to Italy and enlist in the service of the King of Florence. The King of France wanted Bertram to wait another year. This did not sit too well with Bertram.

At the same time, the King of France suffered from a debilitating fistula that none of the court doctors could cure. Helen felt that with her father’s tutelage in medicine she could help him. She went to the court, cured the King and as a reward was told she could choose her husband from any of the courtiers there. Helen chose Bertram. Bertram was aghast and refused. Was it because she was not of the same class as he was? Was it because he wanted to chose his own wife? Was it because he was not ready to marry? No matter. The King was adamant that Bertram and Helen marry, which they did, but Bertram ran off before they could consummate the marriage. He left a cryptic note that said when she got a sacred ring off his finger and became pregnant by him, she could consider him her husband, the implication was that these two things would never happen. Helen was not to be deterred. She set off after Bertram to change his mind.   

The Production. Director Scott Wentworth has envisioned a spare, elegant production. To that end designer Michelle Bohn has lined the thrust stage of the Tom Patterson Theatre with 12 beautiful matching chairs. One could imagine them in the Countess’s (Seana McKenna) dining room.

Michell Bohn’s  costumes are somber but rich looking—since the Count Rossillion has recently passed away, the whole court would still be in mourning, hence the somber costumes. In the case of Parolles (Ryland Wilkie), Bertram’s foppish, blustering, older companion he is dressed in flashy colours with contrasting colored sashes and ribbons. As Parolles, Ryland Wilkie postures and preens until he gets his comeuppance.  

The play is about the folly of youth (hello, Bertram (Jordin Hall) and the wisdom of the older characters (the Countess and the King of France (Ben Carlson)) who do their best to guide the immature folk to grow up. It’s about the maturity and patience of Helen (Jessica B. Hill) to show Bertram the error of his ways in thinking she is not worthy of him. In a tangential story, there is the character of Diana (Allison Edwards-Crewe) who Bertram tries to compromise but in a bit of trickery, doesn’t compromise her. As Diana, Allison Edwards-Crewe stands her ground when facing Bertram. Could one be sexist and say that the young women in the play have more maturity and smarts than this privileged, immature, irresponsible young man? The play does argue the case.

And there are echoes of other plays in All’s Well That Ends Well. The Countess Rossillion gives Bertram sound advice as he sets off for the Court of the King of France:

                                    “Be thou blest, Bertram! And succeed they father

In manners, as in shape! thy blood and virtue

Contend for empire in thee, and they goodness

Share with thy birthright! Love all, trust a few,

Do wrong to none; be able for thine enemy

Rather in power than use, and keep thy friend

Under they own life’s key; be checkt for silence,

But never taxt for speech….”

As played by Seana McKenna, the Countess is loving to Bertram. She obviously will miss him terribly. She is not hectoring in her advice but is thoughtful, gracious and is trying to pass on the wisdom of being a decent human being, mindful of his father as a perfect example of how to behave in the world. There is a quiet, compelling grace to this Countess as played by Seana McKenna.

Compare this sound advice with that of Polonius (in Hamlet) to his departing son Laertes:

                                    …There, my blessing with thee,

And these few precepts in thy memory

Look thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue,

Nor any unproportioned thought his act:

Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar;

….Neither a borrower nor a lender be,

For loan oft loses both itself and friend,

And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry:

This above all, to thine own self be true,

And it must follow, as the night the days,

Thou canst not then be false to any man.”

This advice is sound too, but because Polonius is frequently depicted as a silly man, we are more mindful of his silliness than the intelligence of the advice.

There are echoes of the immature, young nobleman and his buffoon older friend in both All’s Well That Ends Well and Henry IV, Part 1. In All’s Well That Ends Well Bertram is devoted to the unfaithful buffoon, Parolles, a posturing, posing Ryland Wilkie. In Henry IV, Part 1 Prince Hal is devoted to the blustering buffoon, Falstaff. In both cases, the young men mature and realize they were dazzled by their flashy and funny older friend, and come to their senses.

The real strength of this production is the acting. Bertram seems such an immature young man, but as played by Jordin Hall there is a courtliness in his bearing that adds a layer to the performance. Again and again Bertram is given an opportunity to do better, but gives in to temptation and lying—his refusal of Helen, his denigrating the character of Diana. But there are so many other people around him with intelligence who do have faith in him, that we can’t discount him outright.  Only when he is faced with the terrible consequences of what he has done to Helen does he grow up and be worthy of Helen.

Jessica B. Hill gives her performance of Helen a maturity and regal bearing. This is a wise, thoughtful performance of a character who is intellectually nimble and able to think on her feet. Ben Carlson plays the King of France with a furrowed brow full of the pain of that fistula, but also mindful that he is the King and has to conduct himself as a ruler, no matter how sick he is. When the King is cured, Carlson is robust, energetic and forceful in his decisions.

Lavatch is the Sexton and a comic character. As with any comic character in Shakespeare they speak the truth. As Lavatch, André Sills gives such a brash, bold buoyant performance that it shimmers with energy. The comic truth is spoken with conviction and without apology. Sills’ acting with the elegant, regal Seana McKenna as the Countess Rossillion is to watch two masters sparring with barely concealed delight. Stunning work.   

Comment. All’s Well That Ends Well is one of those problem plays that often makes you wonder if indeed it did end well. Under Scott Wentworth’s careful direction and his committed cast, there was no doubt in my mind.

Stratford Festival Presents:

Playing until: Oct. 29, 2022.

Running Time: Approx. 3 hours, (1 intermission)

www.stratfordfestival.ca

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Live and in person at the Young Centre for the Performing Arts, Distillery District, Toronto, Ont. Co-produced by Native Earth Performing Arts and Soulpepper Theatre Company.  Playing until July 24, 2022.

www.soulpepper.ca

NOTE: I received the following e-mail ( Sunday, July 3) from Native Earth Performing Arts and Soulpepper who are producing Kamloopa, written and directed by Kim Senklip Harvey, which I saw July 2: 

 

 

“THANK YOU FOR COMING TO SEE KAMLOOPA!

Dear Lynn,

Thank you for coming out to the theatre to see Kamloopa by Kim Senklip Harvey, co-produced with Native Earth Performing Arts! We sincerely hope you enjoyed the show – and if so, would appreciate your help in spreading the word in getting people back out to live theatre! Join the conversation on social media using #spKamloopa or simply tell your friends what you thought of the show!

We are especially grateful to you for coming to support live theatre and we hope to see you again soon!

— Everyone at Native Earth & Soulpepper”

Hmmmmmm. Troubling and confusing. Those few of us who still write reviews were in fact asked not to write reviews of Kamloopa by writer/director Kim Senklip Harvey, via the press offices of both Native Earth Performing Arts and Soulpepper Theatre company. Press tickets would not be given, as is the norm, in exchange for a review.

As per this e-mail from both Native Earth Performing Arts and Soulpepper press offices:

“Regarding reviewing the show, we are not inviting critics to review Kamloopa. In this way, we are not giving typical media accreditation for review at the opening but would still love to invite you to come and engage with the work as an audience member on any other performance date. There is no requirement, expectation, or traditional ask for a review with this invitation.

We will be focusing instead on uplifting and highlighting the audience’s experiences and responses – particularly that of the Indigenous audience to the show.”

Hmmmmm. “…focusing on uplifting and highlighting the audience’s experience and responses….” But isn’t that what a review is, at its simplest? And isn’t a theatre critic really an ‘embedded member of an audience’ already? Seems like a lot of mis-information of what a review actually is, who it’s for and who writes it.

And as we gladly embrace a world of inclusion, unity and diversity, I must confess that …”focusing instead on uplifting and highlighting the audience’s experiences and responses—particularly that of the Indigenous audience to the show” seems counter to “inclusion, unity and diversity. It seems like preferring one audience at the expense of the other. Now that can’t be right. Why aren’t both audiences embraced equally? Who speaks for ‘the other audience’?

I think of the elegant program note (for Kamloopa) of Native Earth’s Artistic Director, Keith Barker who wrote: “Indigenous stories are vital to the cultural narrative of this country, and Native Earth remains dedicated to sharing the Indigenous experience through live performance. Like the Two Row Wampum Treaty, we believe the only way to move forward in a good way, is side by side, together. These relationships allow us to better understand each other in meaningful ways….”

I felt that the fairest, most equitable way of expressing my opinion, ‘spreading the word’ if you will, was to buy a ticket (not to opening night) and write my review of what I experienced at Kamloopa. Here’s the review:

Written and directed by Kim Senklip Harvey

Set by Daniela Masellis

Costumes by Samantha McCue

Sound and composition by Alaska B

Lighting, video and projection design by potatoCakes_digital

Choreography and movement director, Aria Evans

Cast: Yolanda Bonnell

Samantha Brown

Kaitlyn Yott

A raucous, free-wheeling, wild story of sisterly love, of buying into the clichés held by others and being tweaked by a Trickster to embracing ones’ identity.

The Story. Kilawna and Mikaya are sisters living together in an apartment. They experience the usual sibling frustrations. Kilawna is the older sister, more serious, seems to be the neater of the two and always picks up after Mikaya. She works in an office. Mikaya is irreverent, is a student but often misses class, much to the consternation of Kilawna. Both sisters lament insensitive comments they receive as Indigenous women: Kilawna from her white supervisor and Mikaya from her ‘liberal’ course instructor of Indigenous studies. (While Kamloopa was published in 2018 and won the Governor General’s Award in 2020, I wonder when playwright Kim Senklip Harvey has set the play since the comments from Kilawna’s supervisor would not be tolerated within the last three years, and a white liberal would not be accepted as an instructor for an Indigenous course within the same time period.).

The sisters decide to have an evening out where they meet the mysterious ‘Indian Friend # 1 (also known as ‘the Trickster) who appears in their apartment the next day. The Indian Friend #1 tells the sisters that she is going to instruct them in how to be a proud Indigenous Woman. This involves a road trip (with Kilawna driving) to Kamloopa, the name of the largest powwow in Western Canada just outside Kamloops, B.C.—a celebration of dance, song and Indigenous ceremonies of joy.

The Production. The play opens with Mikaya (Kaitlyn Yott) sleeping on the couch. The kitchen is at the back (set by Daniela Masellis). Stuff is strewn on the floor. Kilawna (Samantha Brown) enters with a laundry basket, sees her sister sleeping on the couch, sighs, and begins to pick up stuff on the floor to tidy. This seems to be a regular routine. Mikaya wakes suddenly from what doesn’t seem to be a restful sleep. Over the course of the play she will also have breathing issues that are more symbolically present than indicate health issues. The breathing issues can be seen as Mikaya being at odds with her Indigeneity until she fully embraces it, and she breathes easier.

As Kilawna, Samantha Brown is serious, resigned at having to pick up after her sister and perhaps burdened by what is happening at work. Kaitlyn Yott plays Mikaya with a lively prickliness as the younger sister. There is a real sense of impatience between the interplay of the sisters as Kilawna tries to rouse her sister to go to class and be more responsible and Mikaya balking at her sister’s nagging.

The sisters seem united in their concern of what white people think of them as Indigenous women. They feel the pressure of what others think of them and all Indigenous people, no matter what the stereotype. Mikaya is the one to suggest a night out. The next morning they discover Indian Friend #1 (The Trickster), a fearless, irreverent Yolanda Bonnell, who takes charge and tells the sisters she is going to teach them how to be true Indians. (Of course, the Trickster is exactly that—a spirit that fools people into believing one thing that might not be true). Most of the robust, raw humour is supplied by an animated Yolanda Bonnell. But this Trickster is a true Indian Friend #1 and also speaks truths to the sisters. She tells them they are going on a road trip (actually about one day’s travel with a camping stop at night) to “Kamloopa, to learn about their Indigenous culture.  Indian Friend # 1 tells the sisters late in Act II they have to stop tearing each other apart and that seems to be the catalyst that sets them on the road to healing, finding their Indigenous roots and embracing the symbolic animals and ancestors on the way. 

Kudos to potatoCakes_digital for the video and projection design. Images of a coyote (Senklip) a grizzly bear and a raven are projected on screens at the back of the set as the three women drive through the beautiful land on the road to Kamloops. Indian Friend # 1 refers to Kilawna as “Grizzly Bear and that image becomes part of Kilawna’s identity as she goes deeper into her cultural discovery.” Mikaya is the coyote with similar melding of images. Yolanda Bonnell as Indian Friend #1 holds out her arms and gracefully turns her body embracing the image of the raven who oversees everything.

Kim Senklip Harvey’s play is rich in Indigenous ancestral images, reference to sacred animals, lines occasionally given in ǹsǝⅼxciǹ are not translated in the play but are translated in the text of the play, which I bought and read before-hand. (The text also has essays about protocols and intention which I didn’t read. The play should make the playwright’s intentions clear to all viewers and their various life experiences.)

The play is dense with irreverent jokes, songs, frequent moments of animosity to settlers and the sisters’ perceived assumption that the settlers are constantly trying to keep them down all the time. Fortunately, Indian Friend # 1 acts as the voice that one hopes takes both sisters away from that constant blaming of others for their insecurity and forward to accept their Indigeneity with pride. Still at 2 hours and 20 minutes with an intermission, Kamloopa could do with cutting to tighten the story.

Comment. The coyote (senklip) is sacred to Indigenous culture (as are all animals) and Kim Senklip Harvey got the idea for the play when she was driving on her traditional Syilx territories and accidentally hit a coyote. The play evolved from there as a celebration of Indigenous women. Kim Senklip Harvey also writes in her programme note: “Crashing into my animal (the coyote) was a calling from the other worlds to help keep Indigenous women alive and that’s what Kamloopa: An Indigenous Matriarch Story is. It is my humble offer to ignite the power that lives within Indigenous women and peoples. This play…is my love letter to Indigenous women who deserve spaces and stories that honour the multidimensional nature of our very existence…”

Mention must also be made of those on whose sturdy shoulders Kim Senklip Harvey and emerging playwrights are standing—the Indigenous playwrights and artists who have been giving space and voice to Indigenous women and people for at least 40 years (through Native Earth, Soulpepper and other companies): Tomson Highway, Marie Clements, Drew Hayden Taylor, Monique Mojica, Jani Lauzon, Yvette Nolan, Cheri Maracle, Columpa C. Bobb, Daniel David Moses, Tracey Nepinak and Tara Beagan, to name only a few.

The clear focus of this production of Kamloopa is that it is intended for Indigenous women without explanation to other audiences. The group of Indigenous women at my performance were given a shout-out and considered “Honoured Guests” by the cast.  But as with all theatre that is very specific, universal aspects are evident as we reflect our own cultures and life experiences by watching the play. I note there are other cultures that seem to perceive themselves as constant victims of oppression by others as Kilawna and Mikaya lament their lot in life to the oppression of settlers, until Indian Friend # 1 tells them to embrace their Indigeneity.  

Considering that the play is meant for an Indigenous audience I wonder why the play is performed in the rigid confines of a theatre, looking only forward in ‘rigid’ seats, instead of in an inclusive, embracing, fluid circle where, according to my readings and teachings by elders, Indigenous storytelling is told.  

Co-produced by Native Earth Performing Arts and Soulpepper Theatre Company:

Playing until: July 24, 2022.

Running time: 2 hours, 20 minutes, (including 1 intermission)

www.soulpepper.ca

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