Every now and then we are presented with a play that encourages us to explore for ourselves the morality of the central characters. Such is the case with Shakespeare’s CORIOLANUS. Coriolanus is a fascinating study of the mother and son, rich and poor, powerful and powerless, and unfolds in a myriad of layers.

As the play opens we hear Volumnia (Colleen Wheeler) in conversation with Caius Marcius’s spouse. Marcius is a renowned, battle-torn general of the Roman army who has fought fearlessly in countless battles. In a dynamic twist that spins Oedipus on its head, director Dean Paul Gibson has cast the lead male role (and many of the others) as female (Moya O’Connell) and sent the dynamic in an entirely new direction. 

Through this mother/son-in-law conversation we quickly understand the powerful hold the mother has over her child, and the probable desire for the child to excel at the path that’s been assigned. When Volumnia states, without remorse, her preference for a heroic dead child over a cowardly one we clearly understand her determination in intervening to squash all lamentations from arising that might deter her child from the course she, the mother, has chosen. Volumnia’s domination over one to prop up another who serves in turn to prop her up in the public eye, is her main objective.

We are in the midst of a famine and the Volscian citizens on the outskirts of Rome have banded together to revolt against the upper classes in an attempt to gain access to the corn they believe is being hoarded in the capitol.
Good mediator Menenius is sent to reason with the citizens. He attempts to quell the rebellion through a tale where he likens the central government to the belly of a man that is tasked with the fair and equal distribution of nourishment to the citizen appendages of the body. He is dismissed with contempt and the Volscian citizens storm forward to the city of Corioli. As a response to their actions the Roman army is dispatched to the city to crush the rebels. Marcius leads the charge and later, somewhat unassisted, manages to vanquish the warring faction. 

A fiercely loyal and singularly focused soldier, Marcius is reluctant to accept a rewarded nomination to council after returning injured, yet victorious, from battle. Marcius is and will always be just a soldier, but forces align to push the malleable pawn in a new, more politically useful direction.
Marcius is given the added title of Coriolanus and asked to don the customary white robes and meet with the citizens to gain their approval for office. For Coriolanus battle is second nature. Politics and the customary cow towing for votes, a foreign language.

Here Volumnia intervenes again and manipulates her reluctant child into breaking convention and going against the focus that’s been taught in order to do her bidding and woo the masses. It is her reflective ego that is at stake so Volumnia does the unthinkable and kneels, pushing the only buttons she knows will trigger the response she requires. Coriolanus buckles and does as asked but meets the citizens with a demeanour so condescending and gruff that it only generates disdain. The citizens, side-by-side with two ill-advising tributes of the people, rise up to banish arrogant Coriolanus from the city. To effectively re-incite the hubristic wrath of Coriolanus the two tributes name her traitor, which floods the gates with ire. Her true nature confirmed, her fate is sealed and she is banished from the city. While the struggles of hindsight haunt the citizens, the mother laments more for the loss of servitude and honour than the loss of a child. There is mass destruction, war-enforced peace, but still no food for the hungry.

Coriolanus leaves the capitol and ultimately joins forces with Aufidius (Marci T. House), the leader of the revolt that was squashed mere months before. Together, fuelled by vengeance and hunger, they storm Rome, wreaking havoc in their wake, and are at the city gates when Coriolanus’s family is sent to plea for peace. 
Here the mother remonstrates for a third time. Coriolanus has been raised on loyalty and honour and is steadfast in holding her alliance to Aufidius until he mother, husband, and child kneel before her. Coriolanus holds fast for as long as possible before succumbing to emotions and laying down swords. There will be peace between the factions but at a cost she alone is aware of. This time Coriolanus names herself traitor and returns to the rebel hold where she is killed by Aufidius and her rebels. 
The child delivers and the mother wins the glory of martyred child. And still, the masses are unfed.

Coriolanus is an intricate story that stirs a lot of issues both ancient and contemporary. Director Dean Paul Gibson gives us even more to think about with his gender role reversal and by pulling much of the action into a contemporary setting. 
The characters of Brutus and Sicinius are inciters of riots and war, but their end game is up for interpretation. Coriolanus would have been a pawn at council. Did they eliminate the threat they perceived by banishing the messenger? 
Coriolanus fights for those she serves while Aufidius fights for the basic necessities of life. Who is the more honourable when it is ultimately the undefended who feel the bulk of the wrath of both parties on route to victory? Who gains and who suffers? Greed, status, honour, manipulation, want, need, anger, love. Where do they settle?

In such an intense play it was good to find places to breathe. There are several moments where the delivery of the lines offer humour and sanctuary from the grimness of events and thought. In place of a few of the traveller/servingmen scenes we find condensed/altered dialogue and a beautiful original song penned by composer Alessandro Juliani and performed by Sara Vickruck. The set design (Pam Johnson), coupled with the projection design (Jamie Nesbitt) are a little DW Griffith in design but work so well with the performances it makes the set changes feel like film cuts. The battle scenes and choreography (Lisa Stevens, Robinson Wilson) are inventive and clever, utilizing actors in multiple roles without leaving the stage. 

Moya O’Connell is stellar in the lead role as Coriolanus and Marci T. House stays right up there with her pound for pound. Both women are incredibly articulate, visually expressive, and both listen so closely to everything around them you almost feel like you’re right beside them on stage understanding every nuanced tone of the performances. 

Coriolanus is one of the most interesting and thought provoking plays to hit Bard on the Beach in a long time. If you see one play this year make it Coriolanus!

For a link to tickets click HERE.

It’s present day New York City and struggling actor Harry (Michael Germant) has just landed a theatre job as understudy to blockbuster, three-line insta-star Jake (Drew Henderson) in Franz Kafka’s epic play THE TRIAL. Jake, still mid leap to fully fledged fame, is an understudy himself to the hugely successful, eight figure demanding Bruce. Bruce couldn’t care less about theatre, nor the people who work there, and uses it as a holding ground between films. Jake clings desperately to Bruces coattails while Harry clings to his and they hold on fast until opportunity breaks the weakest link.

Harry is the first to arrive at the theatre for rehearsal and promptly misplaces a central prop during a flippant account of Jake’s most recent film. Jake arrives on scene, discovers the mishap, and incites a hierarchical battle of wits between the men that is only appeased with the arrival of Roxanne (Sarah Boes), the feisty, no-nonsense stage manager. 
Roxanne has her hands full with Laura the vacuous light operator, the fickle Bruce, and the money grubbing producers. With the discovery of Harry as the newly cast team member things only get worse for she and he have a history: a convoluted, unresolved history.
 
We are two weeks away from opening night and the actors are still working out the bugs. As understudy to an understudy it is highly unlikely that Harry will see the lights from centre stage but that doesn’t stop him from delving into the underbelly of the text. 
As Harry digs deep, the personal plight of the performers is laid parallel to the complexities of the scenes they are rehearsing. As Kafka’s text filters through to their own lives it is here where they are awakened to a new understanding of what it means to be vulnerable, under valued, and powerless.
We never get to meet the volatile Bruce nor the colourful Laura but we see them as vividly as if they were standing before us and we know who they are and how they adversely affect the others. 

The Understudy is nuanced in its observation of the business of show business and asks the audience to listen closely. It is humorously fresh in its calling to mind of popular scenarios, and poignant once it gets you there. 

The Understudy runs at the PAL theatre until August 10, 2019. Click HERE for a link to tickets.

Offering a unique and challenging perspective, co-directors Johanna Wright and Rohit Chokhani have staged their rendition of ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL in India during the chaotic end of British colonial rule.
 
We open in a quiet house attended to by a staff of young women. One by one each character transitions from performing mundane chores to a lively dance choreography depicting a brief and welcomed distraction for the workers in an otherwise bleak house of mourning (choreographer Poonam Sandhu).

SHAKESPEARE IN LOVE is a rollicking tale of love, inspiration, and daring to follow your dreams.

Marc Norman and Tom Stoppard’s screenplay is adapted for the stage by Lee Hall, adding fresh dialogue and altering scenes to the betterment of the story. The gifted and hilarious director Daryl Cloran truly brings the story to life with his insightful and inventive approach and attention to detail.
 
Shakespeare/Will (Charlie Gallant) is having trouble getting his thoughts onto paper. In the opening scene, supportive onlookers surround Will as he struggles to write the next line of his play, Romeo And Ethel The Pirate’s Daughter. “Shall I compare …” he writes then stops, having drawn a blank. His rival and good friend Kit Marlowe (Austin Eckert) encourages Will offering him “…thee to…” and later “… a summer’s day.” In an hilarious contradiction of alliances with rivals they form some of the most memorable lines of the play, generating the first drops of fuel to Shakespeare’s creative tank.

Meanwhile, the scoundrel Henslowe (Scott Bellis) has been caught and tortured for debts unpaid but manages to save his skin by offering Will’s latest play to his captor Fennyman (Warren Kimmel) as payment for his release. Bellis is up to his usual zany shenanigans and garners copious laughs with his quirky rendition of Henslowe but he has his work cut out for him keeping pace with the superbly talented Charlie Gallant who, without hesitation, steals the show at every turn as the love struck, prose challenged William Shakespeare.
 
On the other side of town another theatre company, headed by Burbage (Andrew McNee), has stolen one of Will’s earlier plays and casts a dog, which catches the attention of Queen Elizabeth I. The exquisite Jennifer Lines arrives on stage as HRH and is given raucous applause when she turns to us in her full splendor. Cory Sincenne pulls double duty as both costume designer and set designer and wows the audience with her magnificent creations.
There is a dog. The dog is cute. Dogs are lovely. Enough about the dog.
 
Back at a luxurious estate the lovely Viola de Lesseps (Ghazal Azarbad) longs to be an actor on the stage, a privilege allowed only to the men. She disguises herself as Thomas Kent and auditions for Will’s latest play, still a work in progress. Azarbad is fabulous as the restless de Lesseps but doesn’t quite hit the mark when she transitions to Thomas Kent. She doesn’t stay there long so we hardly notice and the auditions are some of the funniest bits in the play.
 
As the story unfolds and Will taps into his muse we find him love-struck and tongue-tied with rival Kit beneath Viola’s window/veranda. Here Kit assists Will once again writing and subsequently wooing the lady of his dreams. The physical antics the two men provide during this scene are hilarious icing to an already fabulous piece of work.
It’s worthwhile to take a minute to talk about the transitions in the play. There are three major story lines with overlapping information: a lot of information that could, in the wrong hands, easily interfere with the flow of the play. In this instance however, instead of ending a scene and swapping out the set for the next bit of action, the dialogue continues unhindered and transitions into the next location as if transported in time. Brilliant idea because quite frankly, we’re having so much fun we don’t want to be pulled out of this for even a flash second.
 
Back at the theatre for rehearsals we find Will perfecting the art of the kiss. Bard newcomer Jason Sakaki steals this scene with one carefully timed physical gesture that has the audience in hysterics.
Anton Lipovetsky plays the no-nonsense Frees, the lord of Wessex, who conspires to wed Viola and her money in exchange for his title. It is a decidedly humourless role but Lipovetsky pulls small gems out of his hat like few can do. Bard has a couple of comedic jewels in its hat with Sakaki and Lipovetsky.

As we roll up to intermission we perhaps stay a little too long on the text of Romeo and Juliet but if you must have it, then minutes before we head down for a drink is as good a place as any.
 
In the second half of the play the cast is clearly enjoying the opportunity to deliberately overact and when Will finally goes up against Frees in a sword fight, the results are bust-a-gut magnificent.

The boy gets the girls then loses the girl, then gets her again, sort of. It all ends well. Even Queen Elizabeth I is happy. The performances are great, the direction even greater. It is a seamlessly knit play with some unforgettable moments.
Take the family, treat a friend. You’ll be glad you came.
 
For a link to tickets click HERE.

Bard On The Beach’s 30th season got off to an interesting start with Shakespeare’s The Taming Of The Shrew.

Director Lois Anderson had her hands full shaping this antiquated tale into a palatable rendition for the twenty-first century.
 
In its complete form Shakespeare’s play is a tale of abuse of power, manipulation and control aimed at both sexes.
A local Lord happens upon a drunkard sleeping on the cold, hard ground and conspires to mess with his mind in order to manipulate him into behaving in a manner that is both pleasing and entertaining to all who witness. Once he is sufficiently controlled he is then subjected to endure a theatrical performance of a tale where its female protagonist is placed in a mirrored position of objectification. The drunkard, rather than finding mirth in the protagonist’s predicament, is stultified and bored, and promptly falls asleep. He is awoken and urged to follow the tale more closely and it is here where the Lord’s jest comes to light: ridicule of the downtrodden is a tolerable pastime for the privileged alone.
 
Anderson has made significant changes to the text, altering the storyline to reflect a more contemporary outcome. The action is set in the 1870s where the Italian city of Padua shifts to the American Wild West. Her rendition eliminates the storyline of the drunkard and opens with the theatrical performance as a freestanding play. It is a risky choice as with no male counterpoint the focus rests on the struggle of the female protagonist alone. It is a choice that will require ingenuity to keep it from falling into cliché.

With the exception of the implementation of gunfire and campfires the story starts off the same. Scholarly Lucentio (Kamyar Pazandeh) arrives in town with his trusty servant Tranio (Chirag Naik). With one glance at the beautiful and flighty Bianca (Kate Besworth) Lucentio is smitten and singularly focused on winning her favour.
However, Lucentio isn’t the only one lusting after the attentions of fair Bianca. Gremio (Scott Bellis), an older gentleman, and the much younger Hortensio (Anton Lipovetsky), wage a war of material one-upping until the arrival of Lucentio changes the game and fresh tactics are required.
In a fit of exasperation Bianca’s mother, Madam Baptista (Susinn McFarlen), locks Bianca away until her elder, cantankerous sister Katharina/Kate (Jennifer Lines) can first be married. Until that happens the only people allowed access to Bianca are her tutors.
 
Enter Petruchio (Andrew McNee). Here Petruchio is no longer a rich, manipulative world-travelled heir in search of a worthy wife, but a quirky, penniless vagabond in search of a wife with a dowry and an attractive temperament. Petruchio encounters his old friend Hortensio and discovers his predicament. He is both eager to help Hortensio win his beloved Bianca, and enchanted with the notion of winning such a virulent woman as Kate for himself. Anderson switches out the malevolent manipulation of Kate for a raucous and amusing battle of wits when Petruchio naively pits himself against the sharp-tongued Kate.
 
Meanwhile, in an attempt to gain access to lovely Bianca, Lucentio conspires with Tranio, Hortensio with Petruchio and, in typical Shakespearean fashion, identities are altered as suitors become tutors. Once secured inside the homestead Lucentio and Hortensio rally to outsmart each other. Lipovetsky provides much of the comedy as the hapless Hortensio and is so fluid with humour that when he legitimately has trouble with his moustache on stage, he manages to fit the struggle into the mannerisms of the character to the audience’s great amusement.
Eventually both women are well matched and partnerships are earned rather than taken. The story is a bit convoluted, and at times scattered, but the moments that work, work well. Anderson has clearly changed the tone of the play but it is her reconfiguration of the infamous ending that lassos the outcome of its heroine and ties off the storyline with an inspiring twist.
 
The Taming of the Shrew runs until September 21, 2019.
Click HERE for a link to tickets.

It should be an awesome show. Right down your alley.
I know, right?!
Opening night fast approaches and we touch base again.
K, I’m out in front of the venue.
Me too.
I can’t see you.
I’m right here beside the main pillar.
That’s crazy. I’M right beside the main pillar. I’ve been here for 10 minutes. Wait, are you invisible?
There’s a pause. In unison we lean back and in a puff of imaginary smoke, magically emerge on either side of the grand illusion to appear face to face less than two feet apart. We share a laugh at the shenanigans and head into the show.
 
My magician friend and I settle into our seats with our collective note pads. Mine for this review, his for ideas to explore for future shows.
When writing a review for a show such as this it is difficult to do so without completely ruining it for future audiences. So much of what makes this show a jaw-dropping experience involves secret spoiler details that are essential to the orchestration and awe of the illusions. What a let down it would be to know it’s actually a relatively tame, domesticated lion they let loose on the audience, right? No one should mess with that adrenaline pump.
​
The show offers the incredible talents of five extraordinary illusionists: Colin Cloud (The Mentalist) who works with numbers, logic, and intuition; Adam Trent (The Futurist) who makes things shift to and from impossible places; An Ha Lim (The Manipulator) who is a world master of slight of hand; Darcy Oake (The Grand illusionist) who freezes time and makes things appear out of thin air; and Jonathan Goodwin (The Daredevil) who temps fate with hair-raising Houdini-esque feats.  
 
There is a lot of audience participation as guests are woven into intricate guessing games with hidden treasures. Live audience participation can be a tricky venture and require a strong ability to think on your feet as it can offer up pretty much anything. It takes a cool head and a magical wit to make lemonade from many of the lemons tossed out at will. It is here, however, where the illusionists shine the brightest. The magical feats are extraordinary, no doubt about that, but it’s the humor that threads them together that props up the show and keeps it moving in an entertaining and enjoyable manner. Without the quick wit of Adam Trent and Colin Cloud we’d have an entirely different show. At one point in the show the couple sitting behind us murmur sentiments about one of the super scary daredevil acts going a bit too far. They are physically uncomfortable with what they are watching, which of course is the effective intent of the piece. Fortunately for them a few minutes later, during the following act, the intelligent humor of Adam Trent, coupled with his ability to connect to the audience, pulls them out of their nervous predicament as he fields comments from the audience and lobs back spontaneous punch line suggestions that have us all in stitches.
One of the most impressive acts of the evening involves Grand Illusionist Darcy Oake and a number of doves. That’s all you get. We try incredibly hard to work out how he is doing what he is doing, watching him like a hawk. Nope, no such luck. The guy sitting next to me is a freakin’ magician for crying out loud. I should have an in to all of this. His jaw dropped.
Throughout the show a couple of the illusionists offer up answers to some of the illusions, allowing us to see how easy some of the “tricks” are to perform. Timing is everything.  We’re pretty savvy by the end of all this but time and again, just as we’re getting a bit too big for our britches they blow our minds with some absurd, impossible ending that leaves us blinking in wonder.
The visuals that accompany a few of the acts are spectacular and the performers have mastered the cues to split second timing. The supporting performers are essential to the show and deliver the goods with conviction and aplomb.
The show is flawless and breathtaking and offers a night to remember for a very long time. There are some scary bits indeed, but if you remember that this is a night of illusions, it is definitely a wonderously fantastical night for the entire family.
 
Click HERE for a link to tickets.

It’s astonishing to consider the impact musicians Carole King and Gerry Goffin had on the music industry when they first began writing together in the late 50s/early 60s.

Few musicians can lay claim to the enormity of their success and prolificacy in an industry renowned for its flux and volatility.
In their day, King (classically trained pianist and lyricist) and Goffin (lyricist) made a lucrative living penning music and lyrics for some of the most popular bands on the charts and created some of the most memorable hits to come out of that era. Their music enhanced and enriched the careers of iconic performers from The Drifters(Up On the Roof) to The Monkees(Pleasant Valley Sunday), Aretha Franklin(Natural Woman) to Dusty Springfield(Some of Your Lovin’).

It’s the mid 70s and we find ourselves in an auditorium with Carole King at the piano. As her first song comes to a close she shares a personal insight with the audience, setting the tone for the show. “When things don’t go as expected, sometimes you find something, Beautiful.” This is the story of Carole King and the beauty she found at every bump and turn in her life.
We travel with her from the age of 16, when she sells her first song to record producer Don Kirshner, to her solo performance at Carnegie Hall in 1971. The list of musical accomplishments is astonishing as we move from one hit to the next (Will you Love Me Tomorrow - for the Shirelles, The Loco-Motion - for Little Eva, to name only two). Judging from the liveliness of the audience there was a sizable portion that were familiar with the music, but there were several occasions, peppered with gasps of awe, where it was clear they were only now discovering the true authorship of the tunes. “She wrote that?” Devine!

King’s and Goffin’s best friends Cynthia Weil and Barry Mann are an equally impressive song writing duo who travel with us from start to finish. King is portrayed as a gentle but determined soul to Goffin’s loving but reckless playboy. Weil is strong-willed and confident while Mann provides the comic relief with his Woody Allen-esque neuroses.
We move from King’s home to the studio, where she works with Goffin, to the clubs where their music is played. We see King’s and Goffin’s life together form and grow as their careers flourish, and then crumble around them as they grow apart. The personal story is not an extraordinary one (It’s nothing like the exercise in perseverance that is Frankie Valli): in this rendition Goffin is not an asshole, King isn’t taken advantage of by greedy record executives nor does she sabotage her livelihood. This story is all about the music. The personal stuff is more of a thread through the tapestry of King’s journey, this visual version of her iconic album.
 
The set design if fluid and operative, blending and switching sets with minimal effort. It’s worth noting this as an ineffective set transition can pop you right out of the moment. The song performance choreography is worth noting as well for a couple of reasons. Firstly, it was well designed and orchestrated. It often rode the tail of a previous scene, which gave the action a more immediate sense of time travel back to the era. Secondly, it was a brilliant reminder of how something simple and clean can have such a profound visual/emotional impact. How could you not love a song that was coupled with smooth precision moves? Bruno Mars anyone?
The writing is pretty good too. King is given a few catchy one-liners. My favourite in the entire show has to be early on when King addresses her perception of the shape of her body with, “I have the right amount, it’s just not organized properly.” King’s mom delivers a few good ones too and Mann finds a delightful balance between anxiety and stability. Goffin makes us love him through his betrayals and Weil is planted solid and strong. The record executive Don Kirschner is a little nice for what we typically understand of record execs but the show isn’t about him. It’s about an extremely gifted ordinary woman doing extraordinary things.
King’s career is enormous, stretching from the late 50s to present day and this show covers but one slice of the musical pie. She has had so many hit songs it would be impossible to cover them all in one evening. Still, BEAUTIFUL is a show that offers a glance into the life of a remarkable songwriter and is sure to delight audiences of all ages. If you have a chance before the show, be sure to check out King’s album Tapestry. It is a must listen to treasure that is sure to make your experience with the show all that more pleasant.
 
Click HERE for a link to tickets.

The Book of Mormon: a hilariously colourful tale of black and white missionaries.

The Book of Mormon is a no holds barred tale of a group of young Mormon men who branch out on their inaugural missions to spread the word of God (of the Latter Day Saints). Hyper confident Elder Price (Kevin Clay) has waited his entire self-assured life for this moment when he will be paired up with someone equally magnificent and sent to the promised land of Orlando Florida. When Price is instead scheduled for a dreary corner of Africa with the meek and diffident Elder Cunningham (Conner Peirson), he is utterly flabbergasted. Price’s bewilderment is ebulliently countered by Cunningham’s amusing ardor and the two set off on their fantastical journey into the great unknown.
 
Our protagonists arrive in war-torn Uganda and settle into a small village that has managed to keep itself under the radar of the neighbouring, female castrating warlord. But it’s not just the locals who are hiding. In a cleverly orchestrated piece called, “Turn It Off” we discover everyone has something they’re keeping under wraps.
 
The story is a journey of truths. It’s a huge poke at Mormonism, but it is also a clever commentary on the human condition, and no one is safe here. The writers (Trey Parker, Robert Lopez, Matt Stone) unabashedly send pretty much everyone up river paddling a leaky boat. But no one drowns in this story. They’re all sent out a lifeline of some sort and rescued from themselves. And it is themselves they need rescuing from.
 
The Book of Mormon cradles a social statement blanketed in comedy. What better way to evoke the horrific truths that continue to date when their persistence and familiarity have rendered them blasé? The writers take very serious matters (poverty, female castration, sexual abuse, hopelessness, to name a few) and spin them with comedy, making people laugh out loud only to cover their mouths at the realization of what’s just transpired. Signed, sealed, delivered.
It’s a brilliant and effective methodology to inspiring a dialogue that provides a poignant layer to the otherwise superficial journey of our main characters.
 
People are people are people. We follow the characters as they trudge through the familiar quagmires of selfishness, desire, and callousness, to emerge on the other side better educated and more compassionate toward one another.  
 
As for the orchestration of the show itself, the X-ray scene was the only scene that fell a little flat but even that got a few laughs once we realized what we were looking at. The set design was great for the most part, especially the spooky Mormon hell dream. But the biggest laughs came from “I Believe.” There is comedy in contrast and the actors milked this to the max for huge laughs. Kaya Pecchioni as the impossibly named Nabulungi steal our hearts with “Salt Lake City,” and her baptism, under the nuanced guidance of Elder Cunningham is worth the price of admission.
 

The Book of Mormon is not to be missed. It is a hugely entertaining show that is sure to stay with you for a long time. If you’re wondering whether to bring the children, watch an episode of “South Park” first. This should offer you a pretty good gauge.
 
Click HERE for a link to tickets.

​Once again, Bard on the Beach branches out beyond Shakespeare. This year we are treated to Aristophanes’s infamous, and contemporarily relevant, Lysistrata.

The women in this play have something to say and they want to be heard. This is the central theme of the experience of Lysistrata.
There is a clever juxtaposition between the central theme and the modified opening of the play. We are here to listen to what is being said: to hear the voices on stage deliver their message. “Are we being heard?” they ask. Are they?
The play opens with a series of dialogue free actions that set the tone for the theatrical battle of wits and yet no one is listening. Not the people in the play, the audience who have paid to watch it. It took a solid ten minutes and the arrival of Bard artistic director Christopher Gaze to alert the audience to the fact that the action was under way and it was time to listen. Keenly poignant, and yet hardly anyone seemed to notice. Score one for the director.
It is the year 411B.C. and with little to no political power, nor means of protest, Lysistrata tells the light-hearted tale of women who use the abstinence of sex to manipulate their men into drawing a truce and putting an end to the war at hand. If you want a man to listen you’ve got to find a way to grab his, um, attention and hold on tight until the fat lady sings. Lysistrata clamps down tight with the one asset the men are hard pressed to ignore.
Director Lois Anderson and playwright Jennifer Wise have reconfigured Aristophanes’s play to add authority to the voice of women and the plight of the environment. While the story may be old, the rendition is undeniably new right down to the last drop of bottled water.
In an era where public discussion is voiced through the theatre, it can be a powerful thing to hold centre stage. An all women version of Hamlet is set to open when the theatre is urgently taken over by an unrehearsed troupe of women who feel they have a more important message to deliver about their warring cities. Set against a contemporary backdrop of saving Vanier Park from construction destruction, the women make their case for affecting actual change through their messaging, as opposed to trudging through a hapless, floundering Hamlet.
The play is cross-pollinated with contemporary First Nations land issues and the desecration of the earth, and peppered with myriad references to the passed over abilities and accomplishments of women, including a hilariously orchestrated real life reference to an exceptional theatrical accomplishment of one the main characters.
Some things work better than others. The costumes are side-splittingly exquisite. Since the eclipsing troupe is apparently unrehearsed and without costumes, all outfits are supposedly thrown together at the last minute with whatever materials happened to be around. Without spoiling the surprise, it has to be said the royal entrances drew raucous applause from the crowd, and this was not your typically biased opening night crowd we’re talking about, but a month into the season. Having said that, the costumes could have easily fallen flat if not for the commitment and choices of the actors involved. No one struts quite like actor Marci T. House.
The performances are what effectively knit the story together in a comprehensible manner and thread the contemporary with the antiquated.
In the second half of the play, just as you’re going, “Wait, what? Singing?” the songs take over and it feels like they’ve been singing all along. Luisa Jojic is an absolute pleasure with an angelic voice.
On the flip side, one character uses graffiti as a means of being heard and rallies the masses against the police who come to arrest the lone woman. It falls flat because it comes off as downtrodden female entitlement. Not a fair balance to breaking the law. The VPD policemen, however, restore the balance and draw the audience into their evolution of thought as they break down their personal experience of the story unfolding on stage. 
The audience participation section is slow and tedious but some of the viewers seemed to like the involvement just the same. Some.
Although the final monologue was difficult to hear, it wasn’t too difficult to decipher.  The story threads are tied together nicely at the end and we are left, hopefully, with something to think about.
One disclaimer, there is nudity and several hilariously scaring sex-related visuals. If you can deal with that then Lysistrata is a fabulous night at the beach. Enjoy.
 
Click HERE for a link to tickets

​There’s an awful lot jammed into Shakespeare’s shortest tragic tale of greed, guilt, and murder, murder, and (big breath) more murder.

It’s an epic task taking on an infamous play and an even grander task finding a way to successfully engage and hold an audience when the lion’s share of what you have to work with is doom and gloom. There’s not as much flexibility finding freshness in such a colossal downer as Macbeth as one might find in the comedies, and not all the choices director Chris Abraham offers pan out. Having said that, a lot of them do. 
A little bit about the story:
Macbeth and fellow soldier Banquo, fresh from battle, encounter three forest hags who prophesize Macbeth’s rise to power from soldier to Thane of Cawdor and ultimately King of Scotland. The hags then, paradoxically, add that Banquo’s heirs too will be kings though he himself will not. Macbeth is hesitant to believe his good fortune but when he is later given the news he has been named Thane of Cawdor he begins to dream of a future when he might be king.
Macbeth may be willing to wait out the course of events but Lady Macbeth is an impatient, manipulative piece of work. She convinces Macbeth that in order to ensure his ascension to the throne, and subsequently speed things up, he must murder the present ruler, King Duncan. Macbeth does her bidding but collapses in remorse spurring Lady Macbeth to complete their plan.
She drugs and frames King Duncan’s two chamberlains with the crime, placing the bloody daggers in their hands as they sleep. Early the following morning, when the chamberlains are emerging from their stupor, Macbeth arrives with Macduff, the Thane of Fife and catch them red-handed. Before the chamberlains have a chance to protest their innocence Macbeth kills them in a feigned fit of anger at their dastardly deeds. King Duncan’s two sons then flee for their lives and the deal is sealed: Macbeth is king.
Macbeth is a better soldier than cold-blooded murderer and his mind slowly unhinges. Manically intent on keeping his crown he grows increasingly unstable and wary of everyone, especially his good friend Banquo and his kingly heirs. In a fit of madness he sends soldiers to murder him and his sons. Macbeth’s plan to murder the other prophesized kings is only partially successful and he returns to plead with the hags to elaborate on their ramblings so he might steady his course. They oblige, which leads Macbeth further down the murderous rabbit hole, only this time it is he and Lady Macbeth who meet their own bloody end.
 
The play seemed doomed from the start, which I suppose could be interpreted as a good thing for a tragedy. The stage filled with most of the main characters and all were vibrating with a captivating foreboding until one actor broke the fourth wall to smile and nod at a friend in the audience (pop! Bubble burst). Not the best start.
The action picks up though when Macbeth and Banquo encounter the hags. Kate Besworth (Witch 2) sets the bar for the other two hags with her commitment to character. The dialogue, though convoluted as Shakespeare can get, is articulated clearly and the actors (Craig Erickson, Ben Carlson) are well versed in translating that through their physicality. Later when Macbeth struggles with his conscience Carlson draws us in to his vulnerability as he reaches the breaking point.
The ability to articulate when nothing is being said, or better, when what is being said is largely un-comprehensible without a translator or prior knowledge of the text, cannot be overstated. Job well done.
On the flip side of this, it is frustratingly difficult to take advantage of these skills when the volume is so incredibly high. Holy smokes! There were times when we leaned in close to make the connection only to be blasted back by either thundering, dialogue or the relentless boom, boom, boom, of performance squashing drums. It took our breath away, and not in a good way. If humans can’t breathe they either die or pass out. I don’t think anyone died but a couple of people were definitely blasted out of their seats never to be seen again after intermission.
Things were intense throughout most of the play, in fact, so doggedly intense that at the end when King Duncan’s son Malcolm is declared king his reaction was met with muffled laughter. There was nothing in the performance to pull this from the audience, rather it read more like a nervous reaction to being chained to ruination for the previous two hours.
Abraham did manage to break the tension once early in the first half of the play with a vamped up a drunkard who broke the fourth wall (it worked here) and made us giggle. This was a good choice, probably the only place for Abraham to inject a little humor and it was well received.
Regardless of what didn’t work (and that’s entirely biased) so much more of Abrahams choices did. Macbeth is a play worth watching. The actors are dedicated and professional, the costumes are magnificent, and the methodology is fascinating. A suggestion for those who are new to the play: it’s Shakespeare’s shortest, coming in at roughly 21 – 24 pages long, a quick read, well worth the effort, and sure to make you experience with the Bard a lot more enjoyable.
 
For a link to tickets click HERE.