Collin Doyle Makes Me Cry Again - Terry and the Dog at Edmonton Actors Theatre

Collin Doyle likes to make me cry. I am pretty sure that's what he think about when he sits down to write a play. Well, maybe not me in particular, but someone like me. Someone like you, probably too. When I saw Let the Light of Day Through I was sobbing at the end. While I was not sobbing at the end of Terry and the Dog, I was softly crying, and he did it in a way that literally snuck up on me...

It's a beautiful piece of theatre. A solid play. A real play. The kind of play I think we've gotten away from with projections and political messaging and ticking boxes. It's about real people. People who are not perfect, but ones that you can imagine living next door, or being in your family, or even possibly being you. The script is the starting point, and add in the truthful performances of Robert Benz, Maralyn Ryan, and Kyle Humeny under Dave Horak's direction and you have real magic.

I don't want to get into too much, because I don't want to give anything away, and I want you all to experience the Terry's story the way I did. It is about addiction, particularly alcoholism, so be prepared for that. It made me think a lot about how difficult it is for an alcoholic to live in our world and stay sober, and how we might judge someone in their most vulnerable time when really that is the time they need the most understanding. I'm going to be thinking about this for a long time.

It's here now and we can see it. It's a pretty perfect little play. I hope to see it get produced across Canada. It deserves to be.

Terry and the Dog runs at the Studio Theatre at Fringe Theatre Adventures until May 19. Click here for more information or to purchase tickets.

Burning Bluebeard... If we spirits have offended...

There was a moment in Edmonton Actors Theatre's production of Burning Bluebeard at Theatre Network where I experienced a flashback.  In high school I did a lot of volunteering both onstage and backstage at Keyano Theatre in Fort McMurray. When I was in grade 10, I was working running crew on Aladdin, the Christmas Pantomime.  I had just placed my *rock* onstage and was waiting backstage for the end of the scene when I heard a loud bang onstage.  I was instantly worried that my rock had fallen over so I rushed to the stage door and opened it to the sight of smoke and fire and the Music Director rushed out of the smoke yelling, "Get out! Get out!" The set was on fire.  I helped lead the orchestra out the stage door (they had been located upstage in a burlap tent) and exited the theatre out the back loading dock. Outside on the loading dock, in December in Fort McMurray were the dancers and actors from the show. There the girls in their tights and sequinned bodysuit stood, shivering in the cold as we waited to find out what happened. This was the moment I recalled as John Ullyatt (as the Stage Manager) described lifting 6 dancers up through the coal chute onto the chilly Chicago street outside the burning theatre. For the Iroquois Theater it was stage lighting and hanging scenery and a stray spark, for us it was the pyro, used in the cave scene, a stray spark ignited the hanging backdrops.  The loud bang was the fire curtain dropping.  The actress playing Aladdin had to jump into the audience and exit with them through the front doors of the theatre. It was the second show of the run. Some people blamed the ostrich feathers that were used in the show (I saw an ostrich feather onstage in Burning Bluebeard too, and my breath caught), someone wondered if the Scottish play had been mentioned (it happens) or if someone had whistled backstage, most understood that pyros and burlap (even fire-proofed burlap) don't always mix well.

I thought a lot about that fire as I watched the show.  We were lucky - no one was hurt, and the worst thing that happened was the show was cancelled. For the 1903 audience of Mr. Bluebeard in Chicago at the Iroquois Theater, it was much, much worse.  The audience of Burning Bluebeard, however, was treated to a wonderful show - funny, irreverent in places, sad, and magical. It incorporated the audience without alienating them. It felt modern and fresh despite being about something that happened in 1903. It's use of low-tech magic was whimsical.  The cast of 6 (John Ullyatt, Amber Lewis, Braydon Dowler-Coltman, Vincent Fortier, Stephanie Wolfe and Richelle Thoreson) was a brilliant ensemble - multi-talented, all clearly in the same world, performing with an infectious joy and an undertone of sadness, and totally embracing the aesthetic. Dave Horak's direction is imaginative and playful.

Over the past few years I have been able to see quite a bit of theatre around the city.  Some companies I find hit and miss - I like one show, but the next I go 'meh'. What I am finding with the Edmonton Actors Theatre is that even if I am not totally a fan of the play or the message of the play, the company never fail to impress me. I always leave thinking about the show I have seen for some time afterwards. With Burning Bluebeard, I really liked the play and the show, so I double-lucked out, and I am still thinking about it...

Fatboy... Hard to Describe... Harder to Stop Laughing...

I took in the ridiculous and excessive Fatboy by John Clancy (not to be confused with the author of The Hunt For Red October) directed with controlled abandon by Dave Horak and presented at Theatre Network by the Edmonton Actor's Theatre. This is not a show for the faint of heart. It's rude, and bawling and lusty and violent and irreverent and full of more curses per minute than any of show I have seen in my life. I will admit, at first I wasn't sure what I was watching.  The show starts with a belligerent bang of a shouting match between Fatboy (Frederick Zbryski) and his extremely buxom wife, Fudgie (Melissa Thingelstad). It's over the top - not in a Broadway musical kind of way - but in a nightmarish, twisted circus of lechery and violence.  Once acclimatized to the phenomenal patter of cursing interspersed with cries for Sausages!! and Pancakes!! I just held on and went for the ride. They are joined by a multitude of characters played brilliantly by Ian Leung, Tim Cooper and Mathew Hulshof.  The entire cast is incredible.  This kind of piece only succeeds with 100% commitment to the choices and, boy, do they commit.  There were so many times while watching that I marveled at how good they all were.  The world was so complete and there was never a glimpse of the real person beneath the white pancake make-up on their faces. It was as though they had been doing this show for years.  Zbryski's patter is both frightening and hilarious. Thingelstad is marvellously brash.  It's all complimented by a delightfully tilted and distressed set designed by Scott Peters and costumes that are whimsical and macabre designed by Melissa Cuerrier.

The tale is a twisted reinterpretation of the scandalous Ubu Roi (1897) by Alfred Jarry - famous for opening and closing on the same night and causing a riot in the theatre. A comment on the excess of our world, and on the inherent selfishness of humankind, particularly those in power.  It's a little mind-blowing at the end.  I am personally not quite as cynical as the play is in it's final moments.  I can't see the world quite in the way that is suggested by the wrap up.  What can I say? I'm an idealist. But after the roller coaster of violence and ridiculousness is over, the closing comments are what you'll be talking about with your friends for hours afterwards. Depending on where you sit on the spectrum of political and social belief, I think you will come away from this with a completely different reaction. It's really whether you can see Fatboy in Kim Jong Il or perhaps  Rob Ford or your Next-door-Neighbors or even yourself that will tell just how you see the world.

I'd say this is a must-see for those that can handle the language and violence (the violence is all very comical, but for the faint of heart...).  If you are an Edmonton theatre aficionado you simply
have no excuse.  If you are a drama student at either of the two Universities I would be appalled if you missed it. It's a masterclass. Give yourself permission to laugh, and buckle-up for the ride!

Photo credit: Ryan Parker