THEATRE NEWS:
Passe Muraille takes theatre to the streets

JOHN COULBOURN - QMI Agency
31 JAN 2012

TORONTO - While “found art” is a concept that has long been popular amongst certain arbiters of taste and style, Toronto is about to get a taste of found theatre too, it seems, in a new season announced by Theatre Passe Muraille’s artistic director Andy McKim.

McKim’s Beyond the Walls season launches in mid-September with a community street festival, to be held at the corner of Ryerson and Wolseley — and as it moves through a series of works for stage, radio and the Internet, it will continue to be informed by its community.

Among McKim’s plans are works, some of them of an interactive nature, that will examine the world of Toronto taxis, life on the 501 streetcar, and life on Queen St. West itself, among a host of other topics. In addition, TPM will focus on honing new work and in taking that work to the city at large, employing guerilla theatre artists to stage works around town.

For further information, visit passemuraille.on.ca.

THEATRE NEWS:
ShawFest suffers loss at box office

JOHN COULBOURN - QMI Agency
27 JAN 2012

There was a lot of glitter in the Shaw Festival’s 50th anniversary season last summer, but in the end, the 2011 season proved golden, everywhere but at the box office.

Despite an acclaimed production of My Fair Lady, which set an attendance record for the summer Festival, and shows like Topdog/Underdog and When The Rain Stops Falling, both of which were critically well received as well as box office hits, the Festival finished the year with a deficit of $1.5 million on revenues of $28.3 million. While that represents an increase in revenues of almost $700,000 over last year and reflects a 4% rise in ticket revenue and a 12% increase in fundraising, their success still stopped short of their financial goals.

In announcing the loss at the Festival’s 2011 annual meeting Friday in Niagara-on-the-Lake, Executive Director Colleen Blake cited overly aggressive sales and fundraising targets in the season’s budget as the problem and indicated that, with the full support of the Festival’s board, management has already made strategic operating decisions to address the deficit, including an internal restructuring and the introduction of plans to expand fundraising.

While this marks the second consecutive year the Festival has posted a deficit, the Shaw Festival Endowment Foundation manages investments valued at almost $19 million and artistic director Jackie Maxwell vowed to continue her efforts to keep the Festival “relevant, connected and an active leader in Canadian and international theatre today.”

THEATRE REVIEW:
CRUEL AND TENDER

JOHN COULBOURN,
QMI Agency
27 JAN 2012
R: 3/5

Pictured: Thomas Hauff, Arsinée Khanjian

While we all know that war — even a just war — is pure hell, we are less certain on whether those who make war are the sinners who have been consigned there or the devils who run the place.

In his modern day revisiting of Sophocles' Trachiniae, British playwright Martin Crimp echoes the Greek master's suggestion that those who make war are, in fact, a strange sort of amalgam of both, whether the war in question is conducted on an international level between political enemies or one waged on a more intimate, domestic front, between a husband and wife. His 2004 play, titled CRUEL AND TENDER, opened at the Bluma Appel Thursday as a production of Canadian Stage.

Where Sophocles concentrated his focus on the heroic Hercules, and his wars with the nation of Euboea and with his wife Deianeira, Crimp opts for a more modern view, setting his war somewhere in Africa, where The General (played by Daniel Kash) has gone to root out terrorism by becoming a terrorist in his own right. Meanwhile, his wife Amelia (played by Arsinée Khanjian), with no kindling from her husband, has grown weary of keeping the home fires burning, and sends their son, James (Jeff Lillico) off to the front to do a bit of paternal recognizance. James has no sooner departed, however, than she receives a strange shipment from The General.

Mixed in with the more conventional swag that comprises the spoils of modern war is the lovely young Laela (Abena Malika) — a simple refugee who, with her brother, was rescued from the carnage by her husband, Amelia is assured. But the loving wife becomes suspicious and with her suspicions confirmed, she resorts to dark arts to secure her husband's affections — with tragic results for all.

Directed by Atom Egoyan, the work is ostensibly set in a safe house in which Amelia is held, presumably to protect her from the her husband's bad press while he wages his ongoing war on terror — a locale set designer Debra Hanson, (in collaboration with assistant Michael Gianfrancesco) imbues with all the intimacy of an operating theatre, its cavernous expanses lit by the too-often flickering lighting of Michael Walton.

And while Nigel Shawn Williams, Thomas Hauff, Cara Ricketts, Brenda Robins, André Sills and Sarah Wilson all make strong contributions in supporting roles, they simply can't cut through what proves to be CRUEL AND TENDER's major flaw. For, while it initially proves easy to embrace Egoyan's hugely operatic take on Crimp's polemic, it finally only serves to underline that his leading lady can't carry this particular tune.

Seemingly fascinated with a newly-discovered gift of wrist and finger articulation, Khanjian follows her over-active digits around the stage, more concerned with diction than with such minor considerations as the emotional arc of her character. Where Crimp's script asks that we witness Amelia's descent from complacent security to paralyzing insecurity, Khanjian refuses to share the ride, oblivious, it seems, to the fact that it is what her audience is feeling and not what she feels that will drive the show.

Kash, for his part, is riveting when he finally appears, although he seems to be in mighty fine shape for the shape he is supposedly in, turning in a hugely athletic performance as a dying man. As the couple's son, Lillico too is superbly assured. But, finally, Crimp's play and Egoyan's production, which runs through Feb. 18, proves to be a lot more cruel than tender, leaving the troubling impression that war isn't so much hell as Bedlam. 

THEATRE NEWS: Kim's Convenience
re-opens in May

JOHN COULBOURN - QMI Agency
27 JAN 2012

For the convenience of anyone who couldn't get tickets to the current run of Soulpepper's much-heralded production of Kim's Convenience, the show will be paying a return visit to the Young Centre May 17 to June 9.

The extension of Soulpepper's season-opener written by Ins Choi and directed by Weyni Mengesha, was announced Thursday by artistic director Albert Schultz. Tickets for the additional performances are currently on sale at 416-866-8666.

THEATRE REVIEW:
PENNY PLAIN

JOHN COULBOURN,
QMI Agency
25 JAN 2012
R: 4.5/5

Pictured:
Geoffrey, Penny Plain


TORONTO - For all of mankind’s accomplishments, it is pure hubris to assume that the end of the world and the end of mankind will occur simultaneously. And if you’re still in enough of a snit over David Suzuki’s Santa musings that you refuse to take his word for it, you might want to lend an ear to Ronnie Burkett.

Or more specifically, to Ronnie Burkett’s marionettes, for as anyone who has been following the Ronnie Burkett Theatre of Marionettes for the past quarter century will tell you, Burkett’s creations may often be off-the-wall, but when it comes to telling universal truths, they are rarely off the mark. And the way they tell it in PENNY PLAIN, a remarkable new show that opened a Toronto run on the Factory Theatre mainstage Tuesday, the end of mankind and the attendant end of civilization might be just the tonic the world needs — sort of a toxin cleanse for planets, if you will.

Penny Plain of title is a dear old blind lady who, despite her disability, runs a boarding house in an unnamed Canadian city — a city that like the rest of the world is threatened by the apocalyptic happenings reported, news-reel fashion, at the outset of the show. In their wake, we meet Penny, sharing biscuits with her faithful companion Geoffrey, a dog whose duties have, over the years, expanded considerably from your average guide dog. But in the face of a looming apocalypse, Geoffrey hungers for a chance to spread his wings in the broader world and explore his human side.

His departure launches a search for a new dog for Ms. Plain, and after a few unsuccessful-but-very-funny auditions, that position is filled by a young girl, orphaned when the rest of her family beats the clock in a round of murder/suicides. But where everyone around them fears the end of the world, Penny and her new companion embrace its rebirth, despite the madness that surrounds them.

And that’s a lot of madness: a serial killer, driven to distraction by overheard cell-phone conversations, a pair of American survivalists who can’t seem to make up their mind between rapture here ’n’ now and rapture in the hereafter, a profane old woman with an unhealthy obsession with bodily functions, a depressed but still world-famous puppeteer and a tragic woman who doesn’t want to face death with a biological clock ticking like a time bomb.

For those familiar with Burkett’s work, it will come as no surprise to learn that the show is beautifully designed and executed, with Burkett receiving flawless assists from Kevin Humphrey’s exquisite lighting and John Alcorn’s deeply affecting music and sound design. What may surprise however is the limited role Burkett himself plays in the show, refusing in the main to mix and mingle with his creations and instead concerning himself with their animation.

They might also be surprised at the hidden depth here, for while “dark and apocalyptic” is certainly familiar turf for this artist, he uses his puppets this time out to go deeper into the human psyche than is his wont, underscoring the fact that when it becomes a dog-eat-dog world, anthropomorphism might prove to be a two-way street. Mind you, this is still Ronnie Burkett, full of irreverent humour and more inclined to go over the top than Nicholas Cage in a prison break movie, whenever he gets the chance, finally demonstrating his full contempt for editors in this show. But its also a new Ronnie Burkett, stepping out of the limelight on occasion and offering a pensive, pretty PENNY for your thoughts. 

THEATRE REVIEW:
CAROLINE, OR CHANGE

JOHN COULBOURN, QMI Agency
25 JAN 2012
R: 5/5


Pictured: Arlene Duncan, Michael Levinson

TORONTO - It could, one supposes, be the theatrical debate of the decade, if not the century -- Is CAROLINE, OR CHANGE the perfect musical for people who really hate musicals? Or is it, in fact, the hottest ticket going for people who absolutely adore the medium?

But save such discussions for later, because finally, the important thing now is for people from both camps (and everybody in between, I suspect) to get down to the Berkeley Street Theatre to catch the beautifully staged version of the Tony Kushner/Jeanine Tesori collaboration that opened Monday, a co-production of Acting Up Stage and Obsidian Theatre Companies.

As musicals go, CAROLINE, OR CHANGE is admittedly a strange beast -- a slice-of-life affair set in 1963 Louisiana , a story where very little happens between the story's two protagonists, while a lot happens to the world around them.

The Caroline of title is Caroline Thibodeaux (played by Arlene Duncan), the long-serving black laundress and sometimes-maid in the Gellman household, where young Noah Gellman (Michael Levinson) still mourns the death of his mother. So too does his father (Cameron MacDuffee), for that matter, even though he is trying to incorporate a new wife (Deborah Hay) into the troubled household to serve as stepmother to his distant son.

Less-than-enthralled with his new family, young Noah initially sees the woman who rules his basement laundry room as something akin to an all-seeing goddess, but trouble flares when the boy's well-meaning but beleaguered stepmother tries to teach him to empty the change from his pockets before he puts his clothes in the laundry. It's a small thing, but in a world of the Vietnam War, the assassination of John F. Kennedy and the rise of Martin Luther King, little things can and do get blown out of all proportion as that world teeters on the cusp of revolution.

But it is also a world of small joys and minor triumphs, of happiness and sorrow -- a world populated by a singing washing machine (Londa Larmond) and a steamy clothes dryer (Sterling Jarvis), a world where the radio comes to life in the impressive forms of Jewelle Blackman, Alana Hibbert and Neema Bickersteth (the latter of whom also hangs around in the evening hours as a haunting moon).

It's an extensive cast, and together, under the assured musical direction of Reza Jacobs, they tackle a songbook that overflows with everything from jazz to blues to gospel to klezmer, without missing a beat. Meanwhile, director Robert McQueen keeps an assured but unobtrusive hand on the storyline, incorporating stylish choreography from Tim French, and drawing beautifully centred performances from his entire cast.

In the title role, Duncan is a revelation, a living, breathing monument to the power of human dignity, perfectly balanced by Levinson's beautifully and hugely disciplined performance, blessedly as long on humanity as it is short on cute. That humanity is echoed by the youthful Derrick Roberts and Kaya Joubert Johnson, cast as Caroline's sons, while, as their big sister, Sabryn Rock provides even more balance with a powerful demonstration of her considerable talent.

Working on a multi-layered set created by Michael Gianfrancesco and lit by Kimberly Purtell -- both of whom do the show and themselves proud, as does costume designer Alex Amini -- McQueen creates a memorable, thought-provoking production that sidesteps musical theatre cliches as adroitly as the writer and the composer did in its creation. So, in the end, it is unimportant whether you love musicals or hate them --if you're one of those who like theatre that risks much and wins big, CAROLINE, OR CHANGE is a must-see before it closes Feb. 12.

FEATURE THEATRE INTERVIEW:
Ronnie Burkett returns to town with Penny Plain

JOHN COULBOURN - QMI Agency
24 JAN 2012

At 54, Ronnie Burkett finds himself at an awkward age -- and quite frankly, he's enjoying it. Sitting in his bright and airy West Toronto studio -- a storefront, just downstairs from the home he shares with musician John Alcorn and their two dogs -- Burkett discusses the joys, and the vagaries, of aging with something akin to good humour.

"I'm not young enough to be the new kid or the saucy bad boy," he says, his raucous laughter indicating he remembers well being both. "And I'm too young to be revered and iconic." That said, it seems, nonetheless, that Burkett is right where he wants to be. For openers, he is celebrating the 25th anniversary of his company -- The Ronnie Burkett Theatre of Marionettes -- with Penny Plain, a new show that's already drawn rave reviews in Vancouver and Edmonton in advance of its Toronto opening at the Factory Theatre Tuesday.

Even for Burkett, who's been known to tackle thorny subjects like Nazis, AIDS, homophobia, and a host of other tough topics, this is a dark one, set as it is at the end of the world and starring a blind old lady named Penny Plain. "It is what it is," Burkett says, with an enigmatic smile. "The premise is that it is the last three days for civilization and there is no 11th hour reprieve. It's dark, but it's really funny. Everything we're seeing is beautiful and it's not hopeless. The world would survive and regenerate if we just get out to the way."

And speaking of getting out of the way, there's an element of that in Penny Plain too, although it is Burkett himself who is getting out of the way of his celebrated marionettes. It's a direct result, he says, of his work in Billy Twinkle: Requiem to a Golden Boy, the loosely autobiographical and largely acclaimed work that preceded Penny Plain on Burkett's dance card. It cut close to the bone, he admits.

"The thing that saved me from having a therapy session up there is that I've never told people what's real up there and what's bullshit. There are performers," he concedes, "who go out there and tell their true stories, but they are only really telling you one half of their story and the truth lies somewhere in the middle."

But Burkett came face to face with some major truths during Billy Twinkle -- some, like winning the Siminovitch Prize for stage design, were for the good, others, like the death of his adoptive father, who died during the building of the show, and of his adoptive mother, who died during the run, a little less so. "The one thing that Billy left me feeling was I felt really prone and I really questioned being that visible," he recalls. "I think I'd forgotten the magic of puppets doing the work and just getting out of the way."

So, even though he wasn't sure he could do it, he set out to make a show that kept the focus squarely on his marionettes, and, as a result: " Eighty-five percent of this show, you're watching the puppets," he reports with quiet pride. "It's been thrilling," he adds, with a sense of rediscovery. "I didn't fall in love with puppets to be in the light. Puppetry, for me, was limitless."

There's a bit of irony there, for while puppetry has made Burkett an international sensation in the past 25 years, it hasn't done much for his reputation as a well-rounded performer, which is, after all, what led him into show business, as a kid from Medicine Hat, Alta.

Does he ever dream of deserting his celebrated coterie of marionettes to build a character the way other actors do? "Constantly," he says with a philosophic shrug, acknowledging the fact that he's seen as a puppeteer, not a performer. "You'd need a theatre full of directors who realize that I've been acting all these years. It's the same with design..."

Indeed, Burkett was deeply touched to be honoured in the field of design by the Siminovitch jury that finally awarded him that prestigious prize after several nominations. "I'm one of the few who could be nominated in every category," he says simply. "Not that I'm complaining," he adds with a laugh. "I do know my place -- at this age." Rarely has an awkward age ever seemed so downright, well, comfortable.