Studio Theatre: “Without You”

May and I met up on a chilly Tuesday to watch Without You at the Timms Centre, the latest Studio Theatre production. From the website:

Without You is a witty and charming, contemporary search for The One – a search we all can recognize. Gabriella and Scott are in love…they’re pretty sure anyway. She’s a musician pursuing a dream; he’s an academic in pursuit of a career. The wedding is in six months. Somewhere between chicken or beef, colour schemes and groomsmen, Scott develops a secret and Gabby makes plans to leave. While he is holding on with everything he has, she is letting go.”

This play hinges on two things – the audience’s belief in “The One” (or True Love), and the likability of the characters (tied closely with how well the audience can relate to them). For the most part, I didn’t buy the True Love premise of Gabriella’s ball-rolling psychic reading, and worse, I couldn’t stand Gabriella’s character. Throughout most of the play, I found myself rooting against her, and wondering why Scott stayed with her at all – for someone as fiery as she was supposed to be, she lacked a core sense of self (which, I suppose is what the second half dealt with).

Due to the frustration I felt on Scott’s behalf, my favourite part of the play was the climactic, relationship-ending fight. It was satisfying, and in my eyes, something Gabriella entirely deserved. Both actors (Samantha Duff and Matthew McKinney) held their own in that scene, and Duff even redeemed herself from some more uneven work earlier in the production. I will also give Duff credit for a solo acoustic performance where it seemed she was pushing her artistic boundaries.

Though I was expecting more from the script, playwright Nicole Moeller did do a great job utilizing her supporting characters for comedic relief. So much so that chameleons Blythe Haynes and Vincent Forcier stole the show.

I also loved the simple set – I’m a sucker for versatile/multi-function ottomans – but the window-panelled centrepiece, which extended the horizontal length of the stage, was a beautiful, visual reminder of the limitlessness of young life.

Without You runs until December 6.

Theatre: “After the Fall”

With The Crucible and Death of a Salesman as evidence, I thought Arthur Miller’s last play, After the Fall, would have had similar oomph. Boy, was I wrong.

From the Studio Theatre website:

“Miller’s After the Fall (1964) is a strongly autobiographical work, which deals with the questions of guilt and innocence, examining failed relationships, false American values and broken principles amid larger political and social failures like the aftermath of the Holocaust and the McCarthy communist witch hunt. One of the central characters, Maggie, is clearly modeled on Monroe, although Miller always denied this.”

After reading an interview with director Stefan Dzeparoski, I wholly give him the credit that he deserves in attempting to unpack this challenging play, as at intermission, Mack and I both had no idea what was going on.

Between the too-busy set (the textured backdrop, giant wardrobe, theatre seats, overhead screen, and rolling bed in the second half), and projected visuals (Quentin’s conscience, ghosts, and wife Maggie), it was a battle to pay attention to the words alone. The fragmented narration, with characters popping in and out of Quentin’s life, was too difficult to follow. I also wasn’t able to reconcile the first half of the play, with storylines involving the House of Un-American Activities Committee, Quentin’s mother, and his first two wives, with the second half that centered on Quentin’s tumultuous relationship with his third wife. “Strongly autobiographical,” I’m convinced that only Arthur Miller himself would truly be able to tell us what he intended of this play.

That said, I thought Melissa Thingelstad’s performance as Louise was a bright spot in the play, while Mack liked Meredith Bailey’s turn as Maggie.

Beyond that, I don’t have much else to say, except that the audience’s stunned silence following the end of the production, and subsequent delay in applause, said it all.