Review: ROBERTO ZUCCO

by Lynn on September 21, 2024

in The Passionate Playgoer

Live and in person at Buddies in Bad Times Theatre, Toronto, Ont. Playing until Oct. 5, 2024.

www.buddiesinbadtimes.com

Written by Bernard-Marie Koltès

Translator, Martin Crimp

Directed by ted witzel

Costume and set designer, Michelle Tracey

Lighting by Logan Raju Cracknell

Composer and sound by Dasha Plett

Cast: Samantha Brown

Jakob Ehman

Fiona Highet

Daniel Macivor

Kwaku Okyere

Oyin Oladejo

Challenging, dazzling, pretentious, compelling, thought-provoking.

The Story. Roberto Zucco is a challenging play by Bernard-Marie Koltès and it’s opening the season at Buddies in Bad Times Theatre.

It was written in 1989 by Bernard-Marie Koltès a celebrated French playwright who was dying of AIDS that would eventually kill him. In the meantime the play was a hit in Europe and elsewhere.

It’s about a cold-blooded serial killer named Roberto Zucco and it was based on a real serial killer in Paris and later Europe named Roberto Succo. Roberto Zucco has murdered his father and is in prison. He escapes right under the noses of the guards and goes home to collect his fatigues. His mother is there and is afraid of him, naturally. But he quietly gets his clothes from the laundry hamper then he strangles his mother because her angst and nagging annoyed him.

We follow him as he interacts with all sorts of people: a young woman he might have raped but who loves him; an old man who gets lost in a deserted section of a subway and they have an esoteric conversation bordering on the frightening, about being lost; a stylish woman and her son that ends badly and involves a stolen car.

Roberto Zucco is charming, forbidding, philosophical and dangerous. We are both horrified and impressed with him.

The Production. Buddies in Bad Times Theatre caters to LGBTQIA2S stories. The theatre company has had a troubling, contentious last few years with internal squabbling, losing their board, their artistic director etc.

And with Roberto Zucco Buddies in Bad Times Theatre is back with a vengeance with a new Artistic Director in ted witzel, a clear mandate and philosophy and a roster of plays beginning with Roberto Zucco, that will attempt to knock your socks off for many reasons.

Bernard-Marie Koltès apparently saw a wanted poster of the real Roberto Succo in a Paris subway and was intrigued by the handsome face and the horror of what he did. The play seems part hero worship and being intrigued by his many and various escapes from the authorities. There are other characters: the young woman he allegedly raped; her dysfunctional family, the too easy slide into prostitution. I think Koltès writes about this murky world without judgement and definitely compassion, as if Zucco was who he was because of society, his family etc. and not a born psychopath.

The production is dazzling.  It’s directed by ted witzel, the artistic director, and he obviously is making a statement. He packs his production with all the bells and whistles one expects of him. He’s a very compelling director. He has a clear vision of the dark world of the play.

So, Logan Raju Cracknell’s lighting is moody and startling with lots of shadows and blazing light. There are smoke effects, walls come down to reveal characters; Dasha Plett’s composition and sound design, underscore action with a subtly throbbing, pulsing sound. Michelle Tracey has designed a complex set in which set pieces of walls and props are moved and revolved to establish new scenes. There are moments of quiet that are heightened with the sense of impending doom that are beautifully established.

A scene in the deserted subway with Roberto Zucco (Jakob Ehman) and a smartly dressed older man (Daniel Macivor) is one scene in particular that is fraught with possible doom. The two men sit close on a short bench. Daniel Macivor as the older man notes the possibility of danger but also mixes that with a seductive impishness, touching Roberto Zucco’s leg often for effect. Jakob Ehman as Roberto for his part, plays along with the impishness, but there is more than a hint of danger because we know Roberto Zucco’s penchant for killing those who get in his way. Jakob as Roberto Zucco is never anything but compelling. He is soft spoken, seemingly almost wounded by an unjust world, but his cold-blooded behaviour suggests that he is without conscience. He disarms people because he appears shy, awkward, inquisitive and he shakes when he holds a gun to someone’s head. But of course we are also terrified of him.

Roberto says he squashes people in his way, because he doesn’t notice them. It’s a fascinating line from Martin Crimp’s fascinating translation.

There are lovely performances from: Fiona Highet who plays his frightened mother and a cool socialite; Samantha Brown plays an almost innocent young woman who loves him, but is calculated in her way; Daniel MacIvor also plays a witty prison guard along with Oyin Oladejo who has her own confidence; and Kwaku Okyere plays the young woman’s protective brother who coldly ‘sells’ her into prostitution when he learns she’s not as pure as he thought.

And while I do say the production is ‘dazzling’ something happened on opening night that also put the production in perspective.

Earlier, there was an accident in which the stage manager was hurt so the apprentice stage manager (ASM) had to step up and learn the whole show in a matter of an hour or so.

There was a delay in starting without explanation (except for those who review being told by a very efficient press agent) and the audience was in a holding pattern in the bar. Finally, after 20 minutes past the start time, there was the announcement and explanation that they needed to keep people safe and take the time to guide the ASM through the show.  At half hour past the start time we were let into the theatre by a circuitous route as a ‘part of the experience.’  

As I’m watching the show, seeing many stage crew scurry in the dark taking props on and off the stage, shifting set pieces, revolving walls, I realize that for all the production’s bells and whistles, the smoke billowing, the fans blowing for effect, the constant pulsing of the accompanying music, that the show is over-produced. Dazzling to be sure, and over-designed and over-produced. A director in the very center of the work, making a statement about his work.

I can appreciate that ted witzel wants to make a statement that Buddies in Bad Times is back with a vengeance, but in context the production is at times self-indulgent and dare I say it, pretentious.

As for Bernard-Marie Koltès’ play it reminded me of the “angry young man” type of work. It’s a fascinating story of a serial killer full of esoteric musings, philosophical comments on loneliness, money, commercialism, society, and class. There are witty literary illusions—to Hamlet for example.

Two guards (Daniel Macivor and Oyin Olaejo)  talk about guarding a prison, and one thinks he heard something and the other is not sure—it is a reworking of the first scene in Hamlet in which a noise terrifies the guard. In Roberto Zucco the playwright is being cute with a literary slant. Fine and dandy. That said, I also found swaths of the play self-indulgent with philosophical musings that slowed down the pace.

I was glad that the apprentice stage manager, Kayla Thomas, was brought out for the company bow at the end, but in truth she should have had her own bow separately from everybody else just so we know who she was. It’s the little things that make the difference.

So, Buddies in Bad Times Theatre is back with a vengeance. Buckle up.

Buddies in Bad Times Theatre presents:

Plays until Oct. 5, 2024.

Running time: 2 hours or so (no intermission)

www.buddiesinbadtimes.com

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Review: ROSMERSHOLM

by Lynn on September 21, 2024

in The Passionate Playgoer

Live and in person at the Streetcar Crow’s Nest, Toronto, Ont. Plays until Oct. 17, 2024.

www.crowstheatre.com

Written by Henrik Ibsen

A new adaptation by Duncan Macmillan

Directed by Chris Abraham

Set and props by Joshua Quinlan

Costumes by Ming Wong

Lighting by Kimberly Purtell

Sound by Thomas Ryder Payne

Cast: Ben Carlson

Beau Dixon

Virgilia Griffith

Kate Hennig

Diego Matamoros

Jonathan Young

Sturla Alvsvåg

Alicia Richardson

Norman Yeung

Beautifully directed and acted.

The Story. It’s a year after John Rosmer’s wife has died by taking her own life. John Rosmer was a pastor at the local church but he left it because he lost his faith. He felt that his loss of faith led his wife to end her life. He is also the heir to his family’s dynasty. The Rosmer family is one of the leading families in the area. But trouble is brewing. Rebecca West was Rosmer’s wife’s companion when she was dying and Rebecca stayed on in the house after the wife died. She has become very close to John Rosmer and rumours are flying. There is also an impending election about to happen and the divisions in loyalty are forming. Rosmer intends to support the newly elected government following a reformist agenda and not the staid conservatives. But when he announces that to his brother-in-law Andreas Kroll, Kroll is enraged and this defection of the ruling class ideas. Kroll is quite firm in how the classes should behave. Rosmer and Rebecca are haunted by the memory-ghost of Rosmer’s wife; by their love for each other and the guilt they experience because of it; what people will think and the need to move forward but being thwarted.

The Production. Joshua Quinlan’s set takes up the whole room of the theatre. The configuration is similar to Uncle Vanya. The audience sits on four sides of the space. There is little furniture: a large table, a chair etc. On one side are huge glassed doors that look out onto a bridge, a river and scenery. Curtains are on either side of the large glassed doors.

Chris Abraham directs with his customary attention to detail and nuance. There is a heightened emotion to the whole enterprise, indicating the stakes in any instance are high and usually fraught. Governor Andreas Kroll (Ben Carlson) establishes this sense when he arrives in a swirl at Rosmersholm. As Andreas Kroll, Ben Carlson is precise in his clipped speech, commanding and completely confident. Class distinction rules everything he does and with whom he interacts. He holds staunchly to his beliefs and feels that Rosmer has to as well because of his stature in the community. Equally as impassioned is John Rosmer, played with conviction by Jonathan Young. He is also riddled with guilt about the death of his wife and because he loves Rebecca West (Virgilia Griffith). Rebecca West is played by Virgilia Griffith with regal composure, clarity and a steely calmness. She too has strong ideas and holds them close. She also convinces Rosmer to share those ideas. For much of the play there are tugs of war between the ideas and convictions between characters as well as the internal struggles of characters to come to grips with their fears and concerns.

Director Chris Abraham has the confident ability to keep the pace whizzing while subtly ramping up the emotion until the explosive last scene.

That said, I thought that last scene a bit confusing. Something is happening near the bridge and the river and can be seen from the double doors at Rosmersholm. Governor Andreas Kroll bursts into the room looking for Rosmer and can’t find him. He looks around the room and then leaves by another door. I can’t recall him looking out the double doors to see if perhaps Rosmer is there. Without him looking, seeing and being startled by what he is witnessing, the power of that final scene is deflated. I thought that odd-that it didn’t look like Kroll looked out the doors to see what was happening.

Henrik Ibsen wrote Rosmersholm in 1886. It’s interesting how timely the play seems because it talks of an important election coming up and how rancorous it seems, just like our modern times. And there are people in the play who staunchly believe there is only one way to think, just like today. And there is much wisdom too as in Rosmer saying: “Let the people hear all sides” of an argument. There is also this line: “Can’t we disagree without bloodshed?” Wise words ignored because of ignorance.

Comment. I wonder if the people seated in the section beside the wall that has the glassed doors can see anything that happens there. I can see fine. I wonder about the folks in the section to my right—what can they see?

I love the echoes of similar themes in Ibsen, especially the heartfelt belief, trust in people to do the right thing. Rosmer believes that people will see his way of thinking and will support the radically new government. He is emotionally shattered when that doesn’t turn out to be true.

I’m reminded of other trusting Ibsen characters. Nora in A Doll’s House is totally trusting that her husband will take the blame for her forgery when he finds out why she did it. He doesn’t take the blame and she is shattered, is not sure of anything any more and decides to leave him until she finds out who she is first. She closes the door and seeks a new, open life. Note she does not “slam” the door as has been said for the more than 100 years since the play first appeared. The stage direction says “closed the door.” I reckon some disgruntled man, writer, “critic” ranted out that Nora “slammed” the door when she left and that stuck. It’s wrong. She closed the door. She doesn’t need to slam anything to make her point.

Hedda in Hedda Gabler firmly believes she will have all the things and servants that money can buy because she was brought up to expect it. Boy, did she get that wrong. Dr. Stockmann in An Enemy of the People realizes that the town’s water supply is polluted and expects that the people will shut down the new spa because of it, never mind that the town needs tourists. Stockmann believes he will be hailed a hero for it. Boy, did he get that wrong. All these trusting, decent people (for the most part) live in a dream world when it comes down to it. Still Ibsen keeps writing about them. He’s a fascinating playwright and this production of Rosmersholm is a good indication why.

Crow’s Theatre presents:

Plays until Oct. 17, 2024

Running time: 2 hours 30 minutes (1 intermission)

www.crowstheatre.com

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Live and in person at the CAA Ed Mirvish Theatre, Toronto, Ont. playing until Oct. 6, 2024.

www.mirvish.com

Based on the novel by Yann Martel

Adapted for the stage by Lolita Chakrabarti

Directed by Max Webster

Set and costumes by Tim Hatley

Lighting by Tim Lutkin and Tim Deiling

Sound by Carolyn Downing

Composer, Andrew T. Mackay

Video design by Andrzej Goulding

Puppetry and movement by Finn Caldwell

Puppet design by Nick Barnes and Finn Caldwell

Cast: Divesh Subaskaran

Kazeem Tosin Amore

Antony Antunes

Bhawna Bhawsar

Ameet Chana

Fred Davis

Daisy Franks

Akash Heer

Katie Kennedy-Rose

Aizah Khan

Chand Martinez

Mohit Mathur

Mark Matthews

Goldy Notay

Riya Rajeev

Kate Rowsell

Lilian Tsang

Peter Twose

Vinesh Veerasami

A stunning and magical theatrical rendering of Yann Martel’s celebrated book about story-telling, imagination, savagery, humanity,  faith, belief, and the truth.

The Story. It starts in 1978, in Mexico in a hospital room. Piscine Patel is 17-years-old. He is the lone survivor of a shipwreck in which his family and all the other people on the ship perished. He survived 227 days on a lifeboat, often without food and water, and investigators for the shipping line want to know what happened. Patel then begins to weave the many and various stories that have brought him to this place. He begins with his name. Because cruel schoolmates deliberately mispronounced his first name to sound like an insult, Patel changed his name to “Pi.”

NOTE: FROM WIKIPEDIA: “The number π; spelled out as “pi” is a mathematical constant that is the ratio of a circle‘s circumference to its diameter, approximately equal to 3.14159.  It is an irrational number, meaning that it cannot be expressed exactly as a ratio of two integers. 227 Consequently, its decimal representation never ends, nor enters a permanently repeating pattern.”

Pi is a perfect name (metaphor?) for Pi Patel because on one level his never-ending stories seem irrational, fantastical and are never repeated, just like an ‘irrational number.’

The Production. Director Max Webster’s production is inventive and eye-popping in its creativity. There is a constant swirl of seamless activity as the story shifts from Pi in the hospital room telling his story, and then back to the past, where the story is enacted.

It begins in India where Pi lives happily with his parents and sister. His father is the manager of a zoo and some of the animals are: a hyena, a zebra, an orangutan, and the prize among them is a huge, forbidding Bengal tiger.

All the animals and later fish and a turtle are portrayed by puppets. Kudos to Nick Barnes and Finn Caldwell who are the puppet designers and Finn Caldwell for the puppetry and movement. Puppeteers manipulate and maneuver the puppets around the stage in lifelike movement. With respect to the tiger a puppeteer is inside the structure manipulating the front legs with others maneuvering the back legs, while another might operate the tail. Each puppet has its distinctive movement and ‘personality.’ The audience has a good chance of observing how the puppeteers create the movement and actions of each animal until they just forget those people are there and what they are really looking at are a live hyena, zebra, orangutan and Bengal tiger on stage.

As Pi, Divesh Subaskaran gives a towering performance for this complex character. Pi is a boyish, inquisitive 17-year-old. He is curious about the world and in particular the existence of God, to the point that he looks not only to his Hinduism for signs of God’s existence, but also investigates Christianity, Islam, Judaism and Buddhism for ways that those religions believe as well. He quietly notes that to pay respects to those religions he goes to church, the mosque, the synagogue and temple to worship daily.   Interestingly, when Pi is suffering horribly from thirst and hunger over those 227 days at sea, he prays to God (no other name) for solace and hope.  

In both the hospital and negotiating the small lifeboat at sea, Divesh Subaskaran is agile, athletic and almost balletic. He is joined on the boat by the hyena, zebra, orangutan, and suddenly from beneath a tarpaulin, the fearsome Bengal Tiger. Negotiating space with what might be called savage animals requires all of Pi’s wily intelligence and humanity. Eventually, there is only Pi and the forbidding tiger.

Designer Tim Hatley’s set is both simple and efficient. When the storm comes that capsizes the ship on which Pi and his family and the animals are travelling, the ‘walls’ of the ship are rolled away and other parts are slid on to form the lifeboat that is bobbing precariously in the choppy sea along with Pi and the terrified and terrifying animals. Andrew T. Mackay’s video design of a swirling sea and pelting rain are evocative of the challenges that Pi endures.

When the scenes return to the hospital room and Pi weaves his stories, they take on a mystical aura. While he does not discuss the existence of God directly, there is a discussion of believing in something one can’t see. He questions the investigators about his stories, their belief in them and references to faith. And finally, when the investigators need and want to know what really happened at sea, on that boat, Pi gives them two stories to ponder. One is of jaw dropping savagery and the other is a kind of humanity, and deciding which is which is not cut and dried or what you expect.

The Life of Pi is an eloquent and elegant metaphor. Lolita Chakrabarti has taken Yann Martel’s stunning book and adapted it for the stage with sensitivity, muscularity and breathtaking poetry.   

Comment. The Life of Pi is a complex, challenging story of faith, tenacity, cherishing life in all forms and resilience. It is also a dazzling piece of theatre that grabs the imagination and never lets go even until the final, stunning and moving moment.

Mirvish Productions present:

Plays until Oct. 6, 2024.

Running time: 2 hours and 10 minutes (1 intermission)

www.mirvish.com

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Girls Unwanted

Live and in person at the King Black Box Theatre, 1224 King St. W., 3rd Floor, no elevator, Toronto, Ont.

Playing until Sept. 29, 2024.

https://www.thekingblackbox.com

Written and directed by George F. Walker

Production design by Sophie Ann Rooney

Costumes by Madison Caan

Cast: Louis Akins

Alexandra Floras-Matic

Ziggy Schulting

L.A. Sweeney

Marline Yan

Vintage George F. Walker: marginalized characters trying to get by in a production that grabs you by the throat and doesn’t let go until the final curtain.

The Story. Hanna, Kat and Ash are three women living in a half-way house, trying to exist in their troubled world. They are supervised by Maddy who has her own problems. When one of Maddy’s co-workers is murdered no one in the halfway house is safe from suspicion.

The Production. Bravo to the feisty, young company of The King Black Box Theatre who reached out to George F. Walker for a play and he not only ‘offered’ them Girls Unwanted, but he also directs it as well.

George F. Walker is one of the stalwarts of Canadian theatre and yet for all he has contributed to the theatre and keeps on writing, he is rarely produced these days in Toronto. That is a disgrace. You can also add Brad Fraser to that group of playwrights not produced in this city. Disgraceful squared. So, bravo to the gutsy King Black Box Theatre who know and respect their theatre history and the people who create it.

The theatre is on the third floor of a building on King Street just west of Dufferin, in Parkdale. There is no elevator. The space is small—seating about 40 seats. The staff, to a person, is charming, helpful and accommodating. Seeing a play here is an adventure and Girls Unwanted is a wild ride and worth every breathless moment.

The three women who live at the halfway house all have their issues. Hanna (Ziggy Schulting) is abrasive and combative. Kat (Alexandra Floras-Matic) was adopted but then abused by her adoptive parents and left that life to live on the streets. Ash (Marline Yan) is damaged and delusional. Hanna and Kat have a particular animosity towards each other and are usually wrangling over some slight or other, never letting the other get away with anything. Interestingly, Kat is the most compassionate of all the characters and suggests an ability to change, while the others are stuck in their ruts.

Maddy (L.A. Sweeney) is the supervisor of the house. She has her own issues as well. And Max (Louis Akins) is a surprise visitor, being the long-lost brother of one of the women. There has been a murder of one of Maddy’s colleagues and all the people in the house are suspect.

George F. Walker’s dialogue is taut, combative and forceful. His characters have to think quickly on their feet and never let a moment catch them unawares. These women are wily, smart, fierce abrasive and fearless in their dealings with each other. While Hanna and Kat go after each other at every opportunity—bravo to the Ziggy Schulting as Hanna and Alexandra Floras-Matic as Kat—the acting of the whole cast is terrific.

George F. Walker directs with the same energy and grip as his dialogue. Characters are up close in those tight quarters. There is a finesse to maneuvering Sophie Ann Rooney’s functional, seedy set and this cast does it with style.  

The King Black Box Theatre presents:

Plays until Sept. 29, 2024.

Running time: 90 minutes (no intermission)

www.thekingblackbox.com

FIERCE

Live and in person at the Alumnae Theatre, Toronto, Ont. Produced by Moss Theatre Collective and Alumnae Theatre. Playing until Sept. 21, 2024

https://mosstheatrecollective.ca

Written and directed by George F. Walker

Set by Douglas Tiller

Costumes by Fabiana Mercurio

Sound by Shannon Farrell

Lighting by Daniel Shiels

Cast: Liz Best

Elizabeth Friesen

George F. Walker’s production and the acting are indeed fierce but some of the situations in  Walker’s script stretched credulity. Still, it’s a George F. Walker play written and director by Walker and that’s cause for celebration.

The Story. Jayne is an angry, unrepentant druggie who was hit by a truck while she was high. She just walked into traffic, oblivious of the oncoming truck and was hit.  The judge in the case has sent Jayne to see Maggie, a psychiatrist, for assessment to see how to proceed. When they meet there are fireworks. Jayne is perceptive, knows how to zero into a person’s weaknesses and to work them to her advantage. She knows secrets about Maggie (she’s looked her up and done her research). Maggie fights back finding out secrets about Jayne that reveal the cause of her anger. Both women are fierce in their combative wrangling with each other.

The Production. Bravo to Moss Theatre Collective and Alumnae Theatre for having George F. Walker direct Fierce, one of his unpublished plays. Douglas Tiller’s set of Maggie’s office is simple, tasteful and calming.

Jayne (Elizabeth Friesen) wears sweatpants and a stained sweat shirt. Perhaps the stains are blood from her accident.  Her pinky/purple hair is disheveled and unwashed. She stands sizing up Maggie (Liz Best). Jayne is watchful and susses out a situation and people. Jayne thinks the judge was hiding something and is insecure because she used too much makeup. She has looked up information about Maggie’s past and holds that up to her, again, challenging her power. Jayne toys with Maggie about what really happened on the night of the accident, why she takes drugs, and what happened in her life. Maggie struggles to break down Jayne’s defenses, to get to the truth.

Both actresses are fine. Elizabeth Friesen as Jayne is angry, feisty, belligerent, wounded and hurting. Liz Best as Maggie is uptight, self-contained but easily broken. When both actresses wrangle and argue it is ‘fierce’ of course, as expected. When they both try LSD their defenses seem to disappear, as Maggie has a bad trip and Jayne does not.

Director George F. Walker guides the two actresses to their explosive revelations—occasionally as does happen the dialogue is so fast one wonders if the two characters are listening to each other in order to answer. Always a tricky proposition.

 Comment. Playwright, George F. Walker is a champion of the marginalized, not just the underdog. His characters are on the edges of society, but they function well in their own way with their demons. Jayne and Maggie are two such typical Walker characters. Jayne is haunted by a death in her family and is mysterious about revealing who or what that was to Maggie. She obviously has a heart as we see in her dealings with her students when she was a teacher.  Maggie has her own demons she has to live with and has tried to overcome them by moving on and becoming a psychiatrist.

In a way, Jayne hanging on to her rage through drugs and not wanting to let go of her demons is the fiercer of the two. While Maggie should be the one in control of the situation—seeing a patient in her office for counselling—because of her training, it’s really Jayne who is calling the shots and controlling the proceedings. It’s Jayne who makes a suggestion about their relationship that Maggie seems to go along with.

That’s my problem. I don’t believe the situation in that psychiatrist’s office, or that Maggie is so inept in dealing with such a manipulative, wily character as Jayne. I don’t believe that she would go along with Jayne’s incredible suggestion at the end of the play.

If Jayne can break down her psychiatrist so easily, how is it possible the judge recommended that Jayne see Maggie of all people? If Jayne can find out such details about Maggie’s background as if it’s a secret, how can we believe no one else wouldn’t know? Are we also to believe that no one else would have known about Jayne’s troubled family life before she saw Maggie, her psychiatrist? Sorry, I just don’t believe this.

If there is disbelief in the truth, credibility of the characters, then the whole structure of the play collapses. Truly, what am I supposed to glean from Walker’s play and his fierce characters? Troubling questions, but I’m still glad to have seen this play by this celebrated playwright, who always gets me thinking and pondering.

The Moss Theatre Collective and Alumnae Theatre presents:

Plays until Sept. 21, 2024.

Running time: 2 hours (approx.) (no intermission)

https://mosstheatrecollective.ca

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Qalb (a journey of the Ego) had a short (one week) run at the Tarragon Theatre and closed Sept. 14 but it warrants comment. Any show created and performed by Dawn Jani Birley is worthy of comment.

1S1 Production, co-presented by Why Not Theatre. Presented in ASL and spoken English.

Written by Salla Fagerström, Debbie Z. Rennie, Deb’e Taylor and Dawn Jani Birley.

Directed by Debbie Z. Rennie

Set by Maryam Hafizirad

Costumes by Giedrius Šarkauskas

Lighting by André du Toit

Cast: Dawn Jani Birley

Deb’e Taylor (and Taiko Drummer)

Here is the website blurb in total: We have been asked to quote the language exactly so I am using the whole website blurb about Qalb – A Journey of the Ego-

“Qalb means “heart” in Persian, the native language of the beloved 13th century poet, Rumi. Diving into his world of thoughts and poetry, 1s1 Theatre’s latest production Qalb – A Journey of the Ego is about heart and resilience. Inspired by Dawn Jani Birley’s life as a Deaf person facing audism, her struggle for equity is relatable to all dealing with oppression. Birley turns to the philosophy of Rumi to transform her isolation, anger, and frustration into a force of love in the world.

A completely new and original work, Qalb creates a dynamic communication space for everyone, bringing ASL (along with spoken English) to the stage, celebrating the richness of this vivid, visual language. Following its 2023 ground-breaking debut production, Lady M, 1s1 Theatre continues to forge a new Deaf-led theatre movement in Canada. Their latest work offers Deaf audiences access to Rumi’s poetry in their native language and presents both Deaf and hearing audiences new ways of seeing and understanding the world. Together, following the wisdom of Rumi, we work to become reflections of our true selves and create a world in which we all wish to live.”

One must also note Dawn Jani Birley’s explosive appearance on the Toronto stage in Prince Hamlet, Why Not Theatre’s compelling reworking of Hamlet in which she played Horatio and signed the performance. Horatio became the centre of the production. Birley was magnetic, vivid and arresting in her energy in expression in the part.

While the explanation of Qalb – A Journey of the Ego-is fascinating and conjures how Birley’s isolation, anger and frustration are transformed into a force of love in the world, the actual show is not as convincing.

Anger certainly does drive the show. The despicable phrase “Deaf and dumb” opens the show—describing a person who can’t hear or speak. Birley signs and Deb’e Taylor (who plays Ego) says clearly that she is not ‘dumb.’

One does imagine this old cliché haunting Birley and other deaf people years ago, but one questions its use today, when we are so sensitive to language, definition and application and try scrupulously to ease the way, through respectful language today. Naïve of me? Perhaps, but a valid question. Would an insensitive cretin who would use such a phrase be in this audience? If the phrase is used today it’s clear that the user of the phrase is the ‘dumb’ one. Was its inclusion for the ‘converted?’

There is a scene at a dinner table with family in which the lone deaf person—Dawn Jani Birley—is isolated because the others who are not deaf are not including her because they refuse to learn sign language. This is called the Dinner Table Syndrome.  I found this troubling because Dawn Jani Birley is third generation deaf. Her family would all know American Sigh Language. Is this scene supposed to represent those deaf people in which the family refuses to learn sign to communicate? Shouldn’t that be made clearer? It suggests that Birley experienced that and considering her background, that scene seems disingenuous.

There was a wonderful comment at the beginning of the performance about ‘signing’ and that most of the audience wouldn’t understand it. In fact most of the audience in that last performance were able to understand it because almost all of them were signing in the lobby. I reckon only three of us didn’t understand the signing—it was refreshing to be in ‘the minority’ in this case.

Director Debbie Z. Rennie and her creative team created a beautiful, evocative theatrical production. Surtitles of Rumi poems were projected on a screen in large letters and dissolved with stylish flourishes. I just wished that by the last performance the focus on the projections was sharper so they could be read easily. How could that have been missed? And why Rumi? He is a wonderful poet, but why him for the journey through dealing with the world’s ideas on deafness? I’d love a bit more context.

There were scenes of Dawn Jani Birley and Deb’e Taylor as Ego were intertwined on the floor or danced in connected unison illuminating the wonderful connection of self and ego and the difficulty of separation.

Deb’e Taylor not only vocalized what Dawn Jani Birley was signing, she is also a Taiko drummer and accentuated moments with the amplified drumming. The difficulty was often hearing what she was saying because the drumming drowned her out. We are there to hear, experience, listen and appreciate. Isolating part of the hearing audience? I don’t want to believe that was the intention.

Dawn Jani Birley is a force of creation and a great spokesperson for the deaf community. She has travelled the world and been celebrated for her artistry. One doesn’t doubt the tremendous difficulties she and other deaf people have endured to get to where they want to go. And she got there in spite of insensitive cretins in the way. I appreciate her work. I will always want to see it. I just wished that Qalb -A Journey of the Ego- told a clearer, more genuine story, with more attention to the technical glitches.

The show closed Sept. 14 after performing for a week.

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Live and in person at Here for Now Theatre, at the Stratford Perth Museum, Stratford, Ont. Playing until Sept. 28, 2024.

www.herefornowtheatre.com

Written by Nick Green

Directed by Kelli Fox

Set by Darren Burkett

Costumes by Monique Lund

Cast: David Keeley

Rosie Simon

Jan Alexandra Smith

Bracingly written, exquisitely directed and acted. A play about legacy, being remembered, celebrity and the truth.

I first saw a version of Dinner with the DUCHESS in 2019 at the Next Stage Festival in Toronto. Nick Green has rewritten, expanded, solidified and refocused his play since then, and the difference is marked. The result is gripping, layered in subtext, and delves into the world of music and celebrity with precision and keen observation.

The Story. From the programme: “Fame. Power. Sexism. At the end of a storied career, a violin virtuoso Margaret gives her final interview to Helen, a young, savvy reporter. Aided by her ever-charming husband, David, Margaret must confront secrets and ghosts of the past to face the impossible question: how will she be remembered?”

The Production. Classical violin music plays as the audience files in. I assume it’s one of Margaret’s records playing, which is dispelled when the play starts. Margaret says she never plays music in the house and doesn’t own any of her records. We learn that’s not true.

As Margaret, Jan Alexandra Smith enters quickly, a bit agitated, flipping her perfectly coiffed hair back in nervous gestures. She wears a stunning black neck to toe dress/coat of sorts. It looks like she’s cocooned in it, protecting her against the outside world.  She nervously lights a cigarette, takes a few puffs and puts it out when she goes to meet Helen. Kudos to Monique Lund for the costumes which beautifully complete the characters.

The interview takes place in the condo Margaret (Jan Alexandra Smith) shares with her husband David (David Keeley). Margaret gives Helen (Rosie Simon) a tour of the condo, as if this is a very informal situation, friendly even. Hmmm. Margaret is trying to ease Helen into liking her, her home etc.

Darren Burkett has designed a very chic, minimalist set of the dining room/kitchen; a round glass table with black placemats is off from the kitchen, with three black candleholders with white candles.  There is a colourful bold painting on the wall of the ‘dining room.”  A grey bank with black high chairs separates the kitchen from the rest of the room. I assume people can eat at the ‘bank’ as easily as the round table.

Margaret’s speeches are peppered with little darts of comments that are self-deprecating, playful and very telling as the play goes on. David enters wearing beige linen: a loose shirt and comfortable pants. As David, David Keeley is buoyant, charming, watchful of Margaret and liberal with some snide remarks. Margaret shoots back a barb, with a smile. It’s the kind of cutting conversation that makes the observer suck air and hold on tight to something sturdy, as these two bait each other.  This is not the example of a loving couple that Margaret wants to convey to Helen.  

As Helen, Rosie Simon is smartly dressed in a top, skirt and stylish flat shoes. She has a notepad and tape-recorder. (Note: Rosie Simon also played in the previous production of Dinner with the DUCHESS that I saw in 2019. Her performance has grown and it was terrific in 2019.) Rosie Simon as Helen is also watchful of the situation, assessing what is going on with a clear eye. Helen has done buckets of research and knows deep background on Margaret that she might want to keep private.

To continue this up-close-and-personal-let’s-get-to-know-each-other tack, Helen is invited to dinner that is store bought but David will add his little touches, lemons and their zest factor. Margaret has snide comments about that too.

Helen has pitched the idea to her editors to do this interview. With no fanfare, announcement or celebratory party, Margaret is retiring from performing both in the orchestra where she is first violin and performing solo etc.

Margaret is assuming the interview will be easy and unchallenging but with questions that veer away from the usually banal, “how did you get started?” etc. We soon learn Helen has other ideas. Helen is very cool, confident and focused. She is not an easy pushover. She asks Margaret uncomfortable questions. At the top Helen asks: “How did she get the nickname “The Duchess”? Margaret is startled by the question and won’t answer it. Margaret’s demeanor becomes wary and cold. We are therefore curious about what is beneath Margaret’s charming veneer. Margaret is hiding a lot of secrets. She feels that she has fought tooth and nail against the men for her position in the music world. She feels she has been slighted and not given her due. This is a bitter woman who wants to control the agenda for this last interview about her legacy and Helen won’t let her.  

Kelli Fox has directed an exquisite production that is sensitive yet bristling with shimmering emotions, bitterness, regret and the search for the truth. While Margaret and Helen challenge each other in the interview, David Keeley as David is in the kitchen, but he is riveting as he watches the arguments. His stillness is compelling. The subtle touches of a character’s side-long glance at something being said speaks volumes.

Jan Alexandra Smith plays the part of Margaret with sleek sophistication and classiness that slowly gives way to the cracks in her veneer. This is a character driven by perceived slights and humiliations, both real and imagined. Her arguments about a woman in a man’s world are convincing, but the play goes deeper. But when Margaret goes into rapturous ecstasy in describing a piece of music and her playing of it, Jan Alexandra Smith takes her character into another world of musical perfection.  

As David, David Keeley is a charming man who is not timid about lobbing a well-placed cutting remark. As I said, all is not rosy in that relationship. Rosie Simon is quietly fierce as Helen. She senses a story there—a virtuoso musician retires without fanfare, is a story that goes deeper than credits and recordings. Rosie hears rumours about Margaret and hunts down the sources and the truth. The truth drives Helen, but she is not without compassion.

Nick Green has fashioned a fascinating story of an artist obsessed with playing and making music and what she had to endure to get to the top. His dialogue is bracing. He writes about the artist and the glorious music they make. He also makes us question if we can separate the glorious music from the less than generous, bitter person who makes it; and their lack of acknowledging that they might also be responsible for their situation.

Nick Green’s development of his play is a powerhouse work about art, music, beauty and the harshness of the truth. It is both eloquent and elegantly written. Terrific.

Here for Now Theatre presents:

Plays until September 28, 2024.

Running time: 1 hour 20 minutes (no intermission)

www.herefornowtheatre.com

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Review: INFINITE LIFE

by Lynn on September 13, 2024

in The Passionate Playgoer

Live and in person at the Coal Mine Theatre, Toronto, Ont. Playing until Oct. 6, 2024.

www.coalminetheatre.com

Written by Annie Baker

Directed by Jackie Maxwell

Set and costumes by Joyce Padua

Lighting by Steve Lucas

Sound by Olivia Wheeler

Cast: Brenda Bazinet

Ari Cohen

Kyra Harper

Christine Horne

Nancy Palk

Jean Yoon

Annie Baker’s latest play, Infinite Life, is challenging since the silences, pauses and side-long looks are as important as the dialogue. It’s a play about blind faith, trust and camaraderie.  Annie Baker makes you look, see and listen.

The Story. Five women and one man have come to a healing spa in Northern California to fast in order to cure their constant pain. The source of the pain and the intensity of it is individual to each person, but there is a sense of competition among the participants as to who is suffering the most. They all have faith in the elusive Dr. Urken that his prescribed process of fasting, drinking only water or juice in a few cases, will cure their cancer, mysterious ailments and various reasons for the pain. For some this is a repeat visit when their illness returns.

The Production. Jackie Maxwell’s direction is scrupulous in adhering to playwright Annie Baker’s languid, slow pace. As the participants fast over several days, the pace gets incrementally slower because they are weaker. It is so beautifully subtle and real.

Joyce Padua’s set of several pastel blue lounge chairs set against a pastel peachy coloured wall with lush foliage above, sets us in sunny California. The chairs are obviously outside where the various women and the man come out to lounge on the lounge chairs, sleep and feel the warm sun on their skin. Joyce Padua’s costumes a variation on sweat pants with a stylish scarf etc. for a little flamboyance. One gets that warm sun sensation from Steve Lucas’ lighting, and the facial expressions of the various loungers. It’s an expression that reflects the bright light and the position of the head is tilted to get the most of the warm sun.  

Each character has their own battles with pain and their reasons for being there. Sofi (Christine Horne) is the first to enter the space. She has to cope with more than pain. Her marriage is in trouble—she keeps calling her husband, demanding, pleading he answer her texts, e-mails and messages. She also calls another person with a different tone—seductive, teasing, sexual. She is reading a thick book which turns out to be “Daniel Deronda” by George Eliot. I note that not only is there a book mark in the place she left off reading, but the page is also turned down. Anal? Meticulous? Playwright Annie Baker always gets one to think about everything. Is Sofi’s choice of book symbolic? Is she a stand in for Gwendolen, the heroine of “Daniel Deronda”? Hmmm.

Eileen (Nancy Palk) arrives next. She is obviously in pain. She walks slowly, almost limping. Later in the play as her pain worsens, she will use a cane. Eileen is gracious and welcoming. She greets Sofi and strikes up a conversation.

Elaine (Brenda Bazinet) and Ginnie (Jean Yoon) arrive with their own stories and disappointments. Yvette (Kyra Harper) arrives next with such an extensive litany of ailments, operations, physical challenges and the many and various drugs she’s on, that it’s comic relief. And Kyra Harper is so upbeat and also matter of fact that she plays Yvette with such optimism though the reality makes one’s eyebrows knit.

Nelson (Ari Cohen) is the only man and often appears when the others are nowhere in sight. He is laidback, perhaps from his extensive fasting or from the ‘weed’ he smokes as an aid.

The women bond over their shared experiences. They are concerned for each other. In one aching scene, Eileen says to Sofi that her sore hips are relieved when her legs are raised. Her husband raised her legs when she was home. Here Sofi sits on the ground in front of Eileen’s lounge chair, Sofi’s back to it, and elevates Eileen’s legs by positioning them on her shoulders. The look on Nancy Palk’s face (as Eileen) is blissfully at peace. As Sofi, Christine Horne is sensitive and caring when she holds Eileen’s legs still on her shoulders. As she holds them Christine Horne’s thumb strokes Nancy Palk’s ankle. Is that the character showing such compassion or is it the actress showing care to a colleague—and does it matter because it works so well for the scene?

The acting is wonderful and subtle. What is interesting as these characters go through this process together, is that one doesn’t question what is happening in the ‘therapy’ of the pain. Is this a scam of vulnerable people, desperate for a cure of their pain and this doctor Urken is starving the pain out of them through fasting? They don’t question it? But again, Annie Baker got me wondering.  

Comment. Annie Baker challenges her audiences to stay the course with watching characters do seemingly ‘boring’ repetitive activities. In The Flick, her Pulitzer Prize winning play about an old-fashioned cinema, we watched sweepers slowly and methodically sweeping popcorn over the course of The Flick for several minutes at a time. Some dismissed it outright as boring, thus missing the subtle point. The sweeping illuminated the diligence and tenacity of the sweepers to do a responsible job for the place they loved.

In Infinite Life we are watching characters getting weaker and weaker from fasting (starving??) to cure their pain. The movement gets slower and slower from scene to scene. The conversation becomes more and more laboured, the voices weaker from the exertion of talking. We become invested in their lives and a hope for a cure. Challenging and compelling thanks to all involved. Typical Annie Baker.

The Coal Mine Theatre presents

Plays until Oct. 6, 2024.

Running time: 1 hour, 45 minutes (no intermission)

www.coalminetheatre.com

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Fall for Dance North’s 2024 Festival Lineup:

Homecoming: 2024 Signature Programme
Sept. 26 & 27: 7:30pm at The Creative School Chrysalis (43 Gerrard St East)

In his final festival, Artistic Director Ilter Ibrahimof curates Homecoming: 2024 Signature Programmewith a tryptic of works by choreographers whose careers were nurtured at FFDN. Featuring:

islands by Emma Portner, performed by The National Ballet of Canada
Feel no more by Anne Plamondon, performed by Ballet Edmonton
The Last Song by Daileidys Carrazana, performed by Malpaso Dance Company

Tkaronto Open II
Sept. 28: 12-5pm at Union Station’s Outdoor Plaza (65 Front Street West)
Co-presented by Union Station

Tkaronto Open returns to Union Station as a free festival programme. This powwow style competition will feature two categories: Women’s Jingle Dress and new this year: Men’s Fancy War vs. Women’s Fancy Shawl. Co-produced with Indigenous artists Freddy Gipp (Lawrence, KS) and Thunder Jack (Ontario).

8-COUNT: Short Dance Film Series
Sept. 29: 1pm at The Paradise Theatre (1006c Bloor St W)

8-COUNT returns to the festival for its third edition with a special one-night-only premiere screening on the big screen featuring a collection of exciting short dance films by national and international creators. Curated by a distinguished Selection Committee including Lisa La Touche, William Yong, Cara Hagan (NYC) and Milana Glumicic.

Autobiography V98 + V99 by Wayne McGregor, performed by Company Wayne McGregor
Oct. 1 & 2: 7:30pm at The Creative School Chrysalis (43 Gerrard St East)

Autobiography is multi-award-winning British choreographer Wayne McGregor’s exploration of the ‘body as archive’, a developing series of unique dance portraits inspired and determined by the sequencing of his own genetic code.

Big Time Miss by Alyssa Martin, performed by Rock Bottom Movement
Oct. 2-4: 7:30pm at Betty Oliphant Theatre (404 Jarvis St)
Oct. 5: 2pm at Betty Oliphant Theatre (404 Jarvis St)

Set within a shape-shifting cloud of theatrical potential, Big Time Miss is an absurdist dreamscape rooted in Rock Bottom Movement’s signature approach to unbridled, athletic contemporary dance theatre.

The Mars Project by Travis Knights, directed by Travis Knights and Lisa La Touche
Featuring live music
Oct. 4 & 5: 7:30pm at The Creative School Chrysalis (43 Gerrard St East)
Oct. 6: 2pm at The Creative School Chrysalis (43 Gerrard St East)

‘Waiting in the Wings No More’ by Propeller Dance
Oct. 4 & 6: 2pm at Betty Oliphant Theatre (404 Jarvis St)
Oct. 5: 7:30pm at Betty Oliphant Theatre (404 Jarvis St)
Co-presented by The Disability Collective

‘Waiting in the Wings No More’ combines two distinct but connected works created by internationally recognized inclusive dance choreographers Lucy Bennett and Renata Soutter. Leave your expectations of what dance can be at the door, and step into the beautiful world of Ottawa’s Propellor Dance.

Burn Baby, Burn by Guillaume Côté, performed by Côté Danse
Oct. 5: 7:30pm at The Fleck Dance Theatre (207 Queens Quay W)
Oct. 6: 2pm at The Fleck Dance Theatre (207 Queens Quay W)

Flames are beautiful and tragically compelling – can we succeed in lighting an intentional backfire before global warming spirals out of control? The latest creation from Guillaume Côté, which will make its Toronto debut at FFDN 2024.

NIGHT/SHIFT
Oct. 3-5: 10pm at The Citadel: Ross Centre for Dance (304 Parliament St)
Co-presented and produced by Citadel + Compagnie

Programmed by distinguished dance artists Olga Barrios, Rachana Joshi and Samantha Sutherland, the 2024 edition of Night/Shift celebrates the many dance forms explored and practiced by Ontario-based movement makers. Featuring:

Programme 1 (Oct. 3)
Millina Fletcher
Neena Jayarajan
Eilish Shin-Culhane

Programme 2 (Oct. 4)
Sarah Di Iorio
Speakeasy
Priyanka Tope

Programme 3 (Oct. 5)
Marvel Itemuagbor
Carmen Romero
Logan Whyte

A variety of free in-person and digital ancillary events will also be offered throughout the festival, including the fifth season of FFDN’s podcast Mambo; workshops for both professionals and non-dancers; and artist talks. For FFDN ticketing, package information, and full festival details, please visit: ffdnorth.com

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Live and in person at the Stratford Festival, Stratford, Ont. until Oct. 2, 2024.

www.stratfordfestival.ca

Based on the novel by Margaret Laurence

Text by Vern Thiessen with Yvette Nolan

Directed by Krista Jackson with Geneviève Pelletier

Choreography by Cameron Carver

Set and lighting by Bretta Gerecke

Costumes by Jeff Chief

Composer, Andrina Turenne

Music director, arranger, additional composition and sound designer, MJ Dandeneau

Cast: Christopher Allen

Gabriel Antonacci

Dan Chameroy

Caleigh Crow

Allison Edward-Crewe

Jesse Gervais

Jonathan Goad

Josue Laboucane

Julie Lumsden

Irene Poole

Anthony Santiago

Tyrone Savage

Sara Topham

A beautifully rendered adaptation of Margaret Laurence’s classic novel, beautifully directed and acted.

Background: The Diviners is based on Margaret Laurence’s award-winning last novel, which she wrote in 1974. It’s been adapted for the Stratford stage by Vern Thiessen with Yvette Nolan.

It’s a world premiere. It’s considered a classic of Canadian literature and has been taught across the country. It’s also one of the most banned books as well for its subject matter, depictions of racism, sex, class, colonialism, isolation and struggles of being an immigrant, a Métis and an outsider.

The Story.  It begins in 1972 and takes place in both Ontario and Manawaka, a fictional small town in Manitoba. It’s about the life and struggles of Morag Gunn. She’s struggling with excessive drinking and trying to write. Her adult daughter, Pique has announced that she’s leaving to go west to find her father and to learn the truth about her heritage because Morag never really told her. Pique’s father is Jules Tonnerre, a Metis and Morag’s on again off again lover. This conjures all sorts of memories for Morag.

Morag’s life was not easy. She was orphaned when she was young—her parents died of polio. She was raised in Manitoba, by Christie Logan, an army friend of her late father. Christie was a proud Scots.  He maintained the local dump and was therefore ridiculed by the town’s people. Christie was loving and kind to Morag and encouraged her in her life’s path. She loved reading and writing. She went to university to be a writer. She had an affair with her much older English professor, Brooke Skelton and eventually married him envisioning a life of writing and having children. That was not the plan of Brooke who treated Morag with disdain. He did not want children as much as he wanted someone to take care of his home. That’s when Jules Tonnerre re-appeared in her life—he was a traveling troubadour of sorts—and the result was Pique.

The Production.  Vern Thiessen and Yvette Nolan have adapted Margaret Laurence’s book beautifully with sensitivity, vision and a boldness to bring this tough story to the stage. Vern Thiessen and Yvette Nolan have created a work of wonderful collaboration. Yvette Nolan is Indigenous and a wonderful writer. Vern Thiessen is not Indigenous and is also a wonderful writer and together they created the world of the book for the stage. They don’t shy away from the vicious racism of the book and yet for all the brutality of the story, there are moments of breathtaking tenderness and heartbreak.

For example, Jules Tonnerre’s sister Piquette died in a fire and no one helped. The town’s folk called her all sorts of despicable names when she was alive, but when her father pulled her out of the fire, dead, all he did was scream, “my daughter” “my daughter.” For all those terrible words we’ve heard describing the missing Indigenous women and girls, they are at a basic level someone’s daughter, sister, niece and friend. The spirit/ghost of Piquette (played with quiet dignity by Caleigh Crow) followed Morag’s daughter Pique (Julie Lumsden) as if to protect her. It’s a lovely image that bonds the Indigenous world and the white world together.

The Diviners is directed with vivid imagery and creativity by Krista Jackson with Genevieve Pelletier. While the production flips back and forth in time, you are never in doubt what time we are immersed in. Bretta Gerecke has designed a wonderful set and evocative lighting for the production. Floating above the stage is a mass of stuff, a sleigh, children’s stuff, toys, etc. In a sense these are Morag’s jumbled but distinct memories that keep coming back to her which leads to another memory. Krista Jackson and Genevieve Pelletier establish the relationships of characters with sensitivity.

Morag is played by Irene Poole with a fierceness that is impressive. When she is writing she is focused and formidable. The fingers fly over the typewriter keys like some possessed demon. This is a perfect way to depict the need to write. Irene Poole realizes all the conflicting aspects of Morag’s life: loving Christie but wanting to get out of that small town and see the world; wanting to be loved as a wife but wanting to be a mother, and most important, wanting to write. Irene Poole clearly illuminated the obsession with writing and the frustration when the words didn’t come. Wonderful work.

Jesse Gervais, as Jules Tonnerre is a mix of boyish charm and shyness. There is a quiet grace about this performance that brings out the kindness of Jules. Jules Tonnerre loved Morag and never wanted to crowd her or force her into the role of wife and what a mother should be. Instead he respected her need for independence and let her get on her journey. He was also a proud father—although he rarely saw his daughter Pique, but when he did, they bonded. As Christie Jonathan Goad is a rough and tumble Scots, proud of his heritage and of his work at the dump. He’s a man who can’t be put down. And his fatherly love of Morag is lovely. “Go be who you are” is his wonderful advice to her as she leaves home to study English and writing. The cast is very fine. Everything about The Diviners is exquisite.

The play did get me thinking about recent accusations of appropriation of one’s culture and voice. Margaret Laurence was not Indigenous, yet she felt she could write a Métis character without being Métis. I can’t recall any objections to that.

History is full of writers who have imagined other lives without having experiencing it first hand and been successful.  Canadian playwright, Judith Thompson wrote a blistering play about Indigenous characters in their world in Crackwalkerand she’s not Indigenous.

Louise Fitzhugh wrote “Harriet the Spy” and “The Long Secret” about two white girls, but then wrote “Nobody’s Family is going to Change” about a Black middle class family in New York. Louise Fitzhugh was not Black. But she was a brilliant writer.

Of late the thought vigilantes believe that only a person who has experienced something can write about it. Gays should only write about gay issues; people of colour should only be the people who write about that experience etc.

This idea is blinkered and refuted soundly by such works as Margaret Laurence’s The Diviners because it’s the work of a gifted writer, which in turn is adapted by Vern Thiessen and Yvette Nolan, also two gifted writes.

Wonderful production.

Comment. I think The Diviners is both a classic and a target for banning for the same reasons, Margaret Laurence’s book is about Canada; it’s about the cultural divide in some cases: about being Métis and ostracized; being considered ‘other’, whether it was Jules Tonnerre for being a Métis or Christie Logan for working in the town dump and smelling all the time as a result. It’s about the sexual awakening of a young woman who lived outside the rules and was reprimanded for it. It’s about being independent, breaking rules for conduct, class consciousness, being Indigenous and what that entails, especially dealing with the judgements of one’s neighbours.

And of, course the thought and language vigilantes feel they must govern what people read and consider in matters of sex, society, cultural divides, independent thinking people and free spirits.

And I think it’s a classic because Margaret Laurence so captured the independent drive and spirit of Morag; her obsession to write; and Margaret Laurence also captured the sense of being other, because she was probably echoing her life to a certain extent in the novel. A treasure.

The Stratford Festival presents:

Plays until Oct. 2, 2024.

Running time: 2 hours 20 minutes (1 intermission)

www.stratfordfestival.ca

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Live and in person, produced by Bowtie Productions, at Theatre Passe Muraille, Toronto, Ont. Playing until Sept. 7, 2024.

www.bowtieproductions.ca

Text by John Cameron Mitchell

Music and lyrics by Stephen Trask

Directed and choreographed by Meredith Shedden

Music director, Ethan Rotenberg

Set, props by Quynh Diep

Costumes by Irene Ly

Lighting  by Niall Durcan

Sound by Parker Merlihan

Projections by Alex Grozdanis

Cast: Jessie James/James Petrasunias

Luca McPhee

The Band: Ethan Rotenberg, music director/keys

Michael Ippolito, bass

Steven John Dale, guitar

Nazariy Zymbovych, percussion

Irreverent, but strangely relevant today, considering the gender issues that are illuminated.

The Story. Hedwig was a ‘girlyboy’ born Hanschel in East Berlin (The Berlin Wall was still up). He always felt trapped: trapped in that section of the divided city, trapped in a man’s body when he considered himself something else and dressed that way; trapped in a society who did not accept this situation.

Hanschel had encounters with men. Tommy was one of them, a young man who wanted to be a rock star. Hanschel helped Tommy write many hit songs (without credit as it turned out). Tommy went on to rock stardom and left Hanschel behind.   Then Hanschel met and fell in love with Luther, a GI who wanted to marry him/her and take him/her back to the States. A little operation that would change Hanschel to Hedwig was necessary before they could to that. The operation was botched leaving “one angry inch” of what was once Hanschel. The result is Hedwig, described by book writer John Cameron Mitchell ‘as not a trans woman, but a genderqueer character.’ Hedwig is a person sheathed in glitter and sarcasm.

Hedwig tells her story with all the gory, angry bits kept in. She is her own kind of rock star and is aided by her long suffering “husband” Yitzhak.

The Production. Bowtie Productions is a gritty, fearless company that was formed in 2019 to produce theatrical and multimedia experiences for young and emerging artists. Hedwig and the Angry Inch certainly has its challenges and the company does very well with this tricky piece.

Quynh Diep has designed a grungy-looking set to depict the grungy world of Hedwig. There is a wall at the back (The Berlin Wall??) with graffiti on it with words like “Freedom” and “Trans”. “Trans” is a nod to our present day with our many and various gender references.  

Hedwig (Jessie James/James Petrasunias) makes her appearance in a burst of rock music and a blast of light above the stage. She wears exaggerated eye-make-up, an extravagant wig, a skimpy tied up vest, a skirt cut up to here revealing lots of leg and she wears chunky high heels. It’s a startling look and Jessie James/James Petrasunias plays it for all it’s worth. Hedwig is dripping in attitude and arrogance.

Jessie James/James Petrasunias as Hedwig is sassy, flirty and knows how to play an audience. And he sings in a strong, urgent, rock and roll voice.

Yitzhak (Luca McPhee) is a diminutive, androgynous creature with wild hair, baggy clothes, quiet rage and patience who is Hedwig’s stage hand, butt of her jokes and ‘husband.’ In ‘his’ quiet way Yitzhak makes known his contempt for Hedwig with some well-placed expletives and side-long glances at the audience that speak volumes. And since ‘he’ is played by Luca McPhee who is a powerful singer.

The mainspace at Theatre Passe Muraille is not a large space and often the band (especially the percussion) drowns out the singing. Hmmmm.

Director/choreographer, Meredith Shedden has a keen director’s eye and has created a raunchy, deliberately vulgar production with moments of touching sadness. It’s about loneliness with attitude to cover it up.

 Comment. When John Cameron Mitchell’s 1998 show first played Off Broadway in New York it was considered edgy, irreverent and bold. In 2024 at times the show seems dated with its references to the time of the Berlin Wall, and with some plays on words and phrases, instead of laughter, the reaction was silence. Perhaps it’s a generational thing.

But Hedwig and the Angry Inch isn’t just a raunchy romp; it’s a show about being ‘other’, not fitting in and trying hard to do so. It’s about politics, displacement, gender issues, androgyny and rock and roll. The run is short. The cast is hard working. Check it out.

NOTE: While Bowtie Productions is a newish company on the theatre scene, they get full marks for seeking out reviews to spread the word and their program is an example to even the most experienced of companies. First of all, there is a physical program!It lists everybody in the production and crew with  bios. There is a note about the show, the company and thoughts from the director. Most important to me is that the cover page has all the info one needs to know about the production: the title of the show and who wrote it; where it’s playing; the dates of the run; who is producing it; and how one can get tickets with a link. Now that is classy. Bravo.

Bowtie Productions presents:

Plays until Sept. 7, 2024.

Running time is 90 minutes (no intermission)

www.bowtieproductions.ca

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