THEATRE REVIEW: DANCING WITH RAGE


Pictured: Mary Walsh

JOHN COULBOURN, Special to TorSun
07 MARCH 2013
R: 4.5/5

TORONTO - If you thought a few broken ribs and two shots of pneumonia would slow Mary Walsh down — or even mellow her out —  you’ll be disappointed. Which will likely set you apart from audiences at the Panasonic where a show called DANCING WITH RAGE — a wholly-Mary-Mother-of-Codco theatrical affair that, in true Walsh style, gleefully eschews the comforting of the afflicted in favour of the afflicting of the comfortable — opened Wednesday. 


After the aformentioned medical problems scrubbed it from the TPM season last year, it became the final instalment in the inaugural off-Mirvish season. Written and performed by Walsh, it features a cast of her iconic characters — everyone from Marg Delahunty and her alter-ego, Marg, Princess Warrior, through to the lecherous Dakie Dunn, the salty-tongued Mrs. Eulalie, the sugar-rushed Connie Bloor and a host of others.


Under the co-direction of Walsh and long-time collaborator Andy Jones, they are slotted into a single storyline that is the life of Marg, from cradle to the grave decision to be reunited with her Expo 67 lovechild before her vision is destroyed by encroaching macular degeneration — a condition from which Walsh herself suffers. Indeed, there is much of Walsh’s own life caught up in the weave and (perhaps more especially) the warp of Marg’s tale, whether it be in the faux children’s tale of The Girl Who Grew Up Next Door to Her Family, or her colourful career as a student at a Catholic school for girls or Marg’s late life realization that alcohol and anger are a lethal cocktail.


The story is set on the Rock, of course, although there is a brief and hilarious side-trip to Ottawa where Marg fears she might have inadvertently given birth to the conservative resurgence in Canada. But Walsh’s love for the province she calls home is clear not only in the way she occasionally waxes poetic on its beauty, but also in the loving, if acerbic, way she portrays its people.
None of of which gets in the way of Walsh’s penchant for taking the rich and powerful down a peg and everyone from Moses Znaimer, Garth Drabinsky and yes, even Rob Ford to Stephen Harper is skewered in the style fans have grown to love (although it is safe to say that Ford, John Baird and a few of her other targets have rarely looked as good as they do in one particularly funny scene where Walsh explores naked emotion.)


Like a skilled juggler, Walsh is absolutely engaging as she hits the stage, creating, then changing characters before our eyes, spinning things faster and faster (with the help of a strong and effective video component) as she hypnotizes with her highly-refined if none-too-subtle mix of comedic dexterity and social commentary.
 Of course, there comes a point when it all comes crashing down, but happily Walsh, so adept within the short comedic skit, settles into the  90-minute format well, letting us down slowly and sending almost everyone — including a few of her targets, one suspects — out of the theatre dancing with joy.