Tag: theatre reviews

Workshop West: “The Mighty Carlins”

The return of Workshop West from financial oblivion was much heralded in the media, and I am certain the title of their current series, “True Grit”, is as much a reference to the company’s resurrection as to the content of their productions.

Piqued by the choice of Mill Woods as the setting of The Mighty Carlins, I asked Mack to join me for a pay-what-you-can showing on Tuesday night. From the website:

“On the anniversary of his wife’s death, Leo Carlin and his two adult sons come together for their traditional night of drinking until they can’t stand, reminiscing until they can’t remember, and accusing each other of horrible things until they are bonded together as a family once again.”

Walking out of this play, Mack immediately commented on the amount of yelling that had taken place, while I was glad to be out of a space surging with testosterone – the three men were relentless in their display of aggression, one-upsmanship, and macho behavior. It was clear that Carlins is not for the faint of heart – between the language, the drinking, and continuous references to sex, this wasn’t a play for everyone. That said, such a framework couldn’t be avoided; this was the reality of relating to each other for these men. An undertone of blame and guilt was a subtext of the entire play – with Leo’s son Mike in particular questioning his father’s role in his wife’s death. The resolution, albeit tinged with a sad truth, was all too brief given the build-up towards the confrontation.

What small misgivings I had about the script were more than made up for by the stellar performances, however. Veteran John Wright as the snarky father was a presence and force to be reckoned with throughout: stalwart, stubborn and feisty. James Hamilton (who reminded me very much of Chris Fassbender in this role) was fantastically vulnerable and pathetically spineless, and displayed to a T all of the internalized mannerisms by the bullied, picked-on member of the family.

While set in Mill Woods, this could have taken place in any suburb in any major city, with the reference to the “hour long bus ride” and numerous drive-by shootings seeming more like a gimmick than anything else. And oh the drinking – Mack and I wondered how the men were able to avoid running to the bathroom after opening and “consuming” at least fifty cans of beer over the course of the show.

This was my first Workshop West show, so if The Mighty Carlins is any indication of the content they gravitate towards, its productions are a departure for my admittedly narrow theatre experiments. Of course, I will still keep my eye on their schedule, and at the very least, offer them the congratulations they deserve for giving up-and-coming playwrights a platform for expression.

Roxy Theatre Performance Series: “BitchSlap!”

After reading numerous interviews with the stars of BitchSlap!, I was more excited than ever to see the show. So on Saturday night, Dickson and I joined a near full house at the Roxy Theatre for a remount of the 2005 Fringe hit. From the website:

“Joan Crawford (The Movie Star) and Bette Davis (The Actress): the ultimate Screen Goddesses. Too bad they hated each other so much! In this real-life showbiz feud, Crawford and Davis battle royally (like Queens) over roles, top billing, Oscars and MEN.”

Reading the brief history of the women as told in the program before the show began really helped anchor the story for me, but I’m certain I would have understood even more of the references if I was actually familiar with the actresses and their work (I kept wondering whether Davis actually spoke with such punctuated silences, or if Crawford was so appreciative of her fans). Still, a lack of prior background knowledge didn’t infringe on a general enjoyment of the play, as there were enough puns and zingers (Trevor Schmidt, as Davis, got to deliver most of them, “[Crawford]’s slept with every man at MGM except Lassie” or “You can lead a whore to culture but cannot teach them to think”) among other comedic funniness to keep me entertained.

The acting was first rate – there was an undeniable chemistry between Schmidt and Darrin Hagen (as Crawford), but more than that, the two actors seemed to be having the time of their lives sparring and one-upping the other. Their scenes together were undoubtedly the most enjoyable. Even though the Whatever Happened to Baby Jane filming sequences felt a bit long, they provided some of the best moments of the play – Crawford’s deliberate hunch while wheelchair bound, and Davis’s building fury in a climactic confrontation between their screen characters.

The closing dialogue tracing the death of both stars’ careers (appropriately delivered by the reporter, Hedda Hopper, played by the always reliable Davina Stewart) was ultimately melancholic in tone, but necessary. No matter how popular or respected they were, in the end, it didn’t matter – as female entertainers, they were treated as disposable commodities – easily replaced once past their prime by the next new up and comer.

Despite the good acting, the laughs, and the story of a feud between two legends of the silver screen, there was something missing from BitchSlap! I have no doubt why it was a hit during the Fringe, but as a full-length, theatre season play, I was expecting more.

Shadow Theatre: “Almost, Maine”

I’d been looking forward to Almost, Maine for quite some time. Standing in somewhat for Teatro la Quindicina while I await the release of their new season, Shadow Theatre, also based at the Varscona Theatre, offers similar, if not just as quirky fare. From the website:

“Set in a mythical New England small town, Almost, Maine is a witty, insightful, delightful exploration of loves lost, found and mislaid.”

I had heard that this play was one sweet confection, almost overly saccharine, and they weren’t mistaken. But not every one of the eight vignettes were sentimental, so overall, I’d say Almost, Maine was for me, the equivalent to a warm cup of cocoa on a cold day.

The play is perfect for someone with a short attention span, as the scenes didn’t last longer than fifteen minutes or so. I loved the visual metaphors for love – pillows in the scene titled “Getting it Back,” quantified the ‘amount’ of love one gives to another, and in “They Fell,” the literal act of falling to the ground accompanied the epiphany of realizing one’s true emotion. It was great to see Jeff Haslam in a role that was genuinely less kooky than usual, and one that didn’t require the wearing of a tight shirt (he’ll be in the Edmonton Opera’s H.M.S. Pinafore as well!). He was especially good in “Sad and Glad”; my heart broke for him as he encountered his ex for the first time – at her bachelorette party. The music was also a notable achievement – Chris Wynters’ score delicately supported the beauty that is love, and could easily have a place amongst media larger than a community stage (my only nitpick – I could have done without the overly obvious “ding” that indicated the scene’s turning point).

Almost, Maine was a lovely play – no pun intended.

Grant MacEwan Theatre Arts: “Little Women”

After dinner, the three of us proceeded to John L. Haar Theatre for Grant MacEwan’s production of Little Women. From the website:

“Set in New England during the Civil War, Little Women follows the adventures of four sisters – Jo, Meg, Beth, and Amy March – as they grow up. After their father leaves for battle and under their mother’s guidance, the girls must rely on each other for strength in the face of tragedies both large and small. The story will captivate audiences of all ages while telling of the sisters’ progress into womanhood with the added strains of the romance, illness, the pressures of marriage and the outside world.”

The success of this musical wholly depended on a charismatic and talented Jo, and here, the casting was pitch-perfect. Alissa Keogh had a believable headstrong, tomboyish charm, and vocal abilities that put her stage mates to shame. I mean the following as nothing but a compliment: her voice is made for the wholesome songs of the Disney canon, and I have no doubt she has a bright future ahead of her.

As for the rest of the cast, the choice of Yemie Sonuga of African descent was an inspired choice for Marmee (with the backdrop of the American Civil War), but it was a shame that her acting was uneven and forced. Jaclyn Nestman as Beth and Kristy Neufeld as Meg were quite good in their roles, however, and Matthew Van Boeyen did his best to play with dignity a man at least thirty years his senior.

As for the rest of the production, I have an admitted difficulty avoiding obvious comparisons with other adaptations, and in this case, it would be with the 1994 Winona Ryder film. While the play’s Amy was able to redeem herself, and win over the audience (unlike in the movie), I sorely wished for the impossible appearance of a young Christian Bale to reprise his role as Laurie. As in the movie, I still find Jo’s “hasty” marriage to Professor Bhaer an unbelievable, unsatisfying ending. Though Jo’s happiness in finding a connection with someone literary, who challenged her and supported her work as an author is understandable, I can’t believe this happy ending would come so quickly.

For a student production, Little Women was quite good, and it was a treat to watch Alissa Keogh perform, undoubtedly a star in the making.

Theatre Network: “A Beautiful View”

My first show of this theatre season was Theatre Network’s A Beautiful View, showing at the Roxy Theatre (with newly renovated bathrooms!). Website synopsis in a nutshell:

“Two nameless women come together, drop out of each other’s lives, and meet again to the realization that some things are impossible to give up.”

The two women were played by Davina Stewart and Caroline Livingstone, and were the principal reason behind why I decided to see this play. But even now, after some reflection, I’m still not sure what to make of it.

The play began on a laboriously slow note – without any speaking for the first few minutes. And between the dim lighting and soundtrack of crickets, May and I struggled to keep up. The set throughout was very much bare bones (something I am not used to seeing at the Roxy), almost to the point of Fringe-like simplicity. This did ensure that the audience would not be distracted from the two leads.

The constant repetition of the phrase “nothing is enough” (whether it is interpreted as nothing can ever be sufficient, or to have nothing is fine) was and interesting thread throughout, especially as the women traversed jobs, marriages, and deaths in the family.

At the crux of it, I did resonate with the central message of the play – questioning society’s constant need to label everything (e.g. “couple”, “heterosexual”) because I know I am sometimes guilty of jumping to naming as the easy conclusion. I could see that for these women, whether they were friends and/or lovers really didn’t matter – their connection, and only the connection that they felt with one another without judgment or expectation was important.

The ending was another story entirely, and one that felt to me like a cop-out. But I am willing to admit that I may simply not have understood or appreciated the possibility of it coming across as beautifully simple.

A Beautiful View wasn’t the best way to start off the new theatre season, but then again, it can only get better from here.

Live & Let Fringe: Wrap-up

It was a year of many Fringe firsts for me, including the purchase of a Frequent Fringer pass, Die-Nasty, a deep-fried chocolate bar, and more plays than I’ve ever seen over the course of one festival. I also continued my role as a Fringe Evangelist, exposing two more newbies to the wonders of indoor productions (I’ll do a better job of pre-screening plays for my sister though, else Felicia may never again return to theatre). And of course, who could forget the controversial changes to the ticketing system? It was high drama scrutinized in the media, in line-ups, and on stage.

Despite all of this, Live & Let Fringe left me unsatisfied. It could have been the concentration of great plays I saw at the opening of the festival (as opposed to this weekend), or the consistently grey weather throughout, but there was just something missing from 007.

For those who haven’t gotten their fix, holdovers start this Wednesday. Although I’m disappointed that my pick of the Fringe, Madagascar, was left off of the schedule, I’d recommend The Power of Ignorance (which might play better to a larger crowd in the Arts Barns).

Only 355 days before the madness begins again – see you next year!

Live & Let Fringe: Day 10

After brunch, May and I headed down to the Fringe site to catch Chance Moments (Stage 11). One of the few productions I picked based on its written description in the program, the play catalogued a series of snapshots integral to the rise – and fall – of a couple’s relationship. The script and direction themselves weren’t bad (the use of everyday objects as scene starters was a nice touch), but the acting was simply not there. Kyle Schroter in particular was flat, emotionless, and couldn’t grasp the concept of pacing and beats. The production ran ten minutes short of its advertised show length, indicative of an all-too rushed delivery, and the actors’ inability to embrace poignant pauses. As a whole, the story was one that I have seen done better elsewhere (last year’s 52 Pick-up, for example), and with anaemic acting, Chance Moments ended up being one of my weakest picks this Fringe.

To round out the festival, I met up with Dickson for his selection of El Muchacho (Stage 1). A musical primarily starring teens, the plot had been adapted from Gilbert and Sullivan’s The Mikado (whatever that meant). A complicated “love story” involving an executioner, a blood-thirsty president, his guitaristo son, and a chica nicknamed Dum-Dum, the ninety minute production seemed to go on and on. There were also a number of offbeat pop culture references (including a snipe about Ryan Smyth) that Dickson didn’t appreciate – he felt they distracted from the play as a whole. A few days ago, I came across a review of this play in the Journal, and although I didn’t read the text of the article, the headline stuck in my mind – “Easy on the eyes, but often hard on the ears.” Too true. Lead male singer John Tribiger, as the tale’s Romeo, could not hold a note, and more often than not, was inaudible. Thankfully, the lead female, Katherine Carleton, could sing, but with her talent, it’s a wonder how she was cast opposite Tribiger. All this being said, I guess I shouldn’t be too hard on this group of kids; I can’t imagine getting up on stage to act, let alone sing. So bravo for their effort…but the onus will simply be on me to avoid amateur musicals in the future.

Live & Let Fringe: Day 9

Before lining up for our play on Friday night, I convinced Mack to join me in another Fringe first – a deep fried chocolate bar. Battered then fried, I can best describe it as a “corn dog gone wrong.” Biting into it, the coating suggests that there was to be something of substance on the inside, while in reality, only a mass of melting chocolate greets you. In the end, the combination of salty, sweet and oily tastes didn’t make for a very pleasing treat. Mack claimed that it was “disgusting,” but said in between mouthfuls of the delicacy, I didn’t believe him. For me anyway, this was both a Fringe first and last.

Mack picked Out of Pocket (Stage 7) as his play of choice this year, a story involving an expectant couple and a pair of homeless people who panhandled on the street in front of their apartment. With the help of a hat and a scarf worn multiple ways, Mark Jenkins and Vanessa Sabourin played all of the characters involved. Sabourin in particular (on the heels of her exceptional performance in Madagascar) seamlessly transitioned from one role to another, and was quite good as the comically nasal mistress Jesse. Mack found the plot to be a bit routine (going the “just desserts” path), and I had to agree. Not a bad play on its own, but compared to the productions I had watched earlier on in the festival, Out of Pocket was just average.

Live & Let Fringe: Day 4

I took my sisters to Strawberries in January (Stage 6) today. There was quite a bit of buzz surrounding this romantic comedy before the festival even began (directed by Mieko Ouchi, starring real-life couple Chris Bullough and Jana O’Connor), so I had high expectations going in. There was just something missing about the production, but what I can’t quite put my finger on. Bullough (as Francois) was solid, Patrick Howarth had his usual presence, and I really have no complaints about the female cast members, but besides a few tender moments (Bullough’s laundromat confession of loving Sophie’s flaws was touching), the script felt empty. Besides Francois’ pleas, I never really saw the evidence I needed to want to see him united with his beau, and because of that, the ending was abrupt and smelled more than a little of deux ex machina. Strawberries in January is far from being a bad play, but one I just can’t recommend.

With the return of the work week, I’ll be giving the Fringe a rest for a few days. But I’ll be back for a handful of plays before the close of the festival.

Live & Let Fringe: Day 3

My third day at the festival was a morning-to-night affair. While many of the Fringing public prefer wandering the grounds in the evening, I can honestly say I like arriving on site early. To grab a coffee and a paper, walk the alleys before a single vendor has opened, and appreciate the quiet before the storm has become a personal tradition for me. I haven’t been as fanatical this year about needing to secure those coveted front-row-centre seats, but I do remain tied to lining up somewhat early alongside fellow die-hard Fringers.

My first show of the day was The World’s Wife (Stage 2), which features two of my favorite actresses – Davina Stewart and Leona Brausen. Adapted from poems by award-winning Carol Anne Duffy, the play cycles through solo vignettes of wives of famous figures throughout history. I have never before seen a Fringe production with such elaborate costumes; the price of admission is easily recouped based on the wardrobe changes alone (Stewart’s showstopping Medusa gown garnered a few gasps from the audience). Beyond aesthetics, the perspectives on sacrifice, love, sexual power, and subordination are portrayed perfectly by the three women (Brausen’s incredibly astute Mrs. Darwin was my hands-down favorite). Trevor Schmidt’s direction was notably creative – casting Eurydice (Orpheus’s tragic love) as a stand-up comedian complete with a laugh track was inspired. A likely candidate for the post-Fringe holdovers, The World’s Wife is a fun and intelligent play.

Later that afternoon, I headed to Stage 6 (Catalyst Theatre, and in my opinion the best of the Fringe venues) for Madagascar. It is without question the best play I have seen at the Fringe so far this year, and one that I almost don’t want to write about for fear that I will not do it justice. The premise, as presented in the program, is simple, “three Americans find themselves alone, in the same hotel room overlooking the Spanish Steps in Rome.” Operating on different timelines, it took some time to piece together the story, but believe me, it is worth the effort. Haunting, sad, tragic – Madagascar asks difficult questions about family, identity, relationships, and personal needs in beautiful prose illuminated by the exceptional ensemble of Vanessa Sabourin, David Ley and Coralie Cairns. Sabourin and Ley in particular shone – the audience felt their pain, confusion and frustration on every step of their journey. I will stop there, but like Esther’s Hands and The Bone House from Fringes past, Madagascar has left an indelible impression on me.

That night, I met up with a friend to watch David Belke’s The Head Shot of Dorian Grey (BYOV C). As my friend remarked, Belke’s productions are reliable, his name nearly synonymous with “romantic comedy” at the Fringe. This incarnation involves two young actors (Jesse Gervais, Katherine Fadum) who first meet at an audition, but don’t discover their chemistry on stage until a joint reading of Romeo & Juliet. Setting the play in the world of theatre allowed Belke to share his inside observations gleaned from personal experience, but it seemed to get out of hand at times – the one hundred minute play felt long, with each crazy audition coming off like filler and like another stall tactic to keep the two would-be lovers apart. Gervais has never blown me away before, but here he was very natural, good humored, and likable. And oh, that gaze – did I ever want to be on the receiving end of that stare. Also a Belke standard, the supporting characters, or in this case, the supporting actors cast in multiple roles, were superb. So much so that the play could have germinated from a decision to test the deft versatility of Linda Grass and Glenn Nelson in a series of quirky but forgettable characters. Overall, Dorian Grey is cute, but not as memorable as many a Belke play.

We ended the evening with a quick bite at Murietta’s. The high ceilings might be nice to look at, but had an echo-chamber effect, with the room reaching a surprisingly-high volume. I ordered the portabello mushroom ravioli, and while it reached our table in no time at all, the dish itself was nothing special. The slightly pricey menu matches the elegant setting, but I’d much rather head to the more casual Dadeo’s or Cafe Mosaics anytime.