Rhinoceros @ Almeida Theatre

Omar Elerian may just be the most exciting theatre director working these days, at least in London. His interpretation of Ionesco’s 20th century satire, Rhinoceros, is searingly relevant. A play about mass hysteria, groupthink, and the refusal to surrender, Elerian’s production is whimsical from the start, creating a world that is playful and silly, where tables float and people are caricatures of self interest. Where Berenger (an outstanding Șopé Dìrìsú) doesn’t fit in; he doesn’t look the same, know the choreography or where to stand, doesn’t understand the “rules”. This creates the perfect platform for the devolution of society; everyone else is playing by the rules, even the interlocutor (a brilliant Paul Hunter), moving in choreography, sharing opinions, movements, thoughts. And suddenly, only Berenger and Daisy remain….alone, isolated in their sanity. Sound like the way many of us feel right now?

Elerian’s updates to the text are seamless — only the giant Ionesco nerds like myself would notice the differences — and provide just the right balance of old references and new so that it doesn’t feel like we’re watching an “update” despite the clarity of commentary on 2025 Western civilisation. And I’d be remiss not to mention the exquisite choreography of the production; every movement and breath choreographed beautifully, so that the cast function as a living, breathing unit, of which Berenger sits outside. They are the Rhinoceros. We all are.

Manhunt @ Royal Court Theatre

Note - I saw this in early previews ahead of press night.

Robert Icke’s first original commission, and first appearance at the Royal Court, is a violent investigation of the true life story of a man in the North of England who was wanted for assault and murder, resulting in the longest manhunt in UK history.

In spite of its ties to real life, Icke’s production exists initially in a no-space; there is concrete and sliding doors reminiscent of a prison, but the space is stark white, wide open, and containing only collapsible furniture. It evokes feelings of a world you can’t trust, wherein characters and timelines overlap, move in and out of space, and even the furniture isn’t solid enough to trust. This quickly becomes potent when the central character Raoul (a brilliant Samuel Edward-Cook) loses control of his temper, throwing furniture across the space. The eruption of violence from this man is what we’re meant to expect — but Icke’s clever creation of an uncertain and untrustworthy physical space causes us to question the conditions that created this man.

That isn’t to say that the misogyny and violence of the central character is excused - indeed it is on display like a zoo animal at feeding time, ready for us to consumer and consider, but from a safe distance. Icke has Edward-Cook address the audience directly at times, quite surprisingly and as an affront, a consistent reminder that we’re watching this play out. We all know how it ends, yet are here to watch. Simple yet effective use of camera footage on specific heightened moments remind us of how our experience of these events is normally mediated, through a screen.

In a time when the conversation is ever more focussed on how society is failing young men by allowing them unfettered access to the dreaded “manosphere” and a dearth of positive role models and relationships, in the face of increasingly positive outcomes for their female counterparts, this play is necessary, it is urgent. While Netflix’ adolescence interrogates the knock on effects on those around a young boy who commits such an act, Manhunt holds more than the immediate family accountable — it is society as a whole who need to improve, yet Manhunt suggests no simple solutions. This play does not sit back and safely assess, but rather dives into the deepest end, without a life jacket. Well worth watching, but more importantly, worth reckoning with as individuals and as a wider society.

ECHO (Every Cold-Hearted Oxygen) @ Royal Court for LIFT Festival

Where does performance happen? What does it mean to be present in a space? Nassim Soleimanpour’s latest play, ECHO, digs at these questions. Using the convention of an actor who hasn’t read the script before performing live which Soleimanpour used with great success on White Rabbit, Yellow Rabbit, this play pushes that technique further. Not only is the actor contending with a script they haven’t seen, but with technology, projection, and more. This play asks big questions; about who we are, what ties us to a place or a memory, and importantly about what it means to move away from home and family, living as an immigrant in another culture divorced from your own but unable to separate yourself.

I won’t say more as to not steal the surprise — but suffice it to say that the images and questions this play ask have been looming over me since seeing it. That’s not easy.

Samuel Takes a Break by Rhianna Ilube @ The Yard Theatre

…in Male Dungeon Number 5 After a Long But Generally Successful Day of Tours

Yes that’s the whole title. And the mouthful of a title hints at the darkly serious yet funny play that marks the debut of Rhianna Ilube at The Yard Theatre. The play tells the story of a tour guide, Samuel, and his colleague, Orange, and the cast of individuals who come to take a tour of the Castle in Ghana where humans were held as captives before being shipped to North America as slaves. It tells us a story of modern times reckoning with the long reach of colonialism in a deeply insufficient way. It tells us a story of contemporary humans grappling with the depths of the distant, and not-so-distant past.

The cast is rounded out by two actors who play all of the couples making the visit; all 4 are directed superbly by Anthony Simpson-Pike, who creates a physical and intentional space which allows the audience to be taken in and not question the jumps in space, time, and reality. All 4 actors are equally exceptional, and the production as a whole was thoughtful, yet felt dangerous and at the edge of acceptability.

An absolutely incredible play, production, and set of performances. One can only hope for a remount.

What The Constitution Means to Me - Heidi Schreck (recorded)

I watched this on Amazon Prime, where it continues to be available. It is a filmed performance from 2019 when the show was performed on Broadway, directed by Marielle Heller.

I have been excited about this play since I first heard Heidi Schreck talk about it on Brian Koppelman’s podcast, The Moment. There is an energy about the way she spoke about the play, and the awe with which Brian described it, that intrigued me. Framed around Schreck’s real life story of travelling around the US debating on the constitution to win prize money to pay for college, what begins as an almost too-real personal confession, quickly spins into a deep and scathing indictment of the treatment of women throughout American history.

Schreck’s performance is singular in its simplicity. She rarely feels performative, even when we see her as her 15 year old self. She is raw and honest in her storytelling. The convention for how the story is told shifts repeatedly, peeling back layers of artifice until we reach the final third of the play which is no longer a play, but a live debate of ideas between two fierce debaters. So rooted in the ancient Greek agon, this is simultaneously the most and least theatrical aspect of the play.

The design is simple, the space does not change but instead the people within the space change and modernize, a stunning metaphor for the old structures which we moden humans must live within, outmoded, but still what we’ve got — the perfect setting for a debate on whether we should continue, or burn it down and start again.

This is a timely watch.

Pass Over by Antoinette Nwandu - Recorded @ Steppenwolf, Chicago

I watched this on Amazon Prime, after the stage production @ Steppenwolf Theatre Chicago was recorded by Spike Lee and released for viewing. This was recorded in 2017.

Spike Lee sets up the recording of this play beautifully, putting it in the framed context of a group of people travelling by bus, from the neighbourhood where the play takes place, to the theatre. Immediately it is a reminder of the proximity and distance between these two worlds. Danya Taymor’s production gives Antoinette Nwandu’s words space to play. The set (by Wilson Chin) is sparse, wide, dim - yet littered with objects. In this space, the empty street corner, we meet two young men, trapped and isolated, yet surrounded by reminders of the outside world, whether through the objects on the stage, the buzzing streetlamp to indicate day or night, or the more confrontational sounds of gunshots. Despite these reminders, the pair dream and plan, aiming to find a way to a new life. They want more but are aware of the challenges of this world — anxious to start and yet wholly unable to do so. Frozen in their moment.

This is interrupted, however, when the white character arrives - first reflective of seemingly well-intentioned white liberals, careful to choose their words, but ultimately, when it comes down to it, seeking to retain his power and therefore the subjugated position of the two black men. The air itself seemed to change when he entered — the reactions of the two more guarded, more careful, and the possibility of danger more imminent than when bullet sounds threw the pair to the ground. When he leaves, nothing is the same again. Later interactions become increasingly violent — the next white character who enters is a police officer, whose racism is overt, but somehow less sinister than that of the well-intentioned liberal. The two white characters keeping the same name, and are played by the same actor. The elbow of oppression present in all white faces we see on the stage, no matter their stated intentions.

Pass Over weaves together a re-think of Beckett’s Waiting for Godot with biblical imagery, and a bold depiction of the true state of power and racism in today’s world. Despite movement forward, ultimately this story ends worse than it began, and with power in the same place. This was written in response to Trayvon Martin’s death, but could easily have been about the events of the past few weeks.

The manner in which Lee films the stage production makes you feel as if you are a fourth, silent character, sitting behind the street lamp. We are there, we are bearing witness, yet we sit there and do nothing. The complicity is a palpable call to action.

(O)Phelia - Saucy Gal Productions @ RMTC ShakespeareFest

Leigh-Anne Kehler seems to step up to the task each year of the Master Playwright Festival, writing a thoughtful and well researched response to the playwright’s work. This year, she seems to have topped herself again, writing a 45 minute play expanding on the experiences of the two women in Hamlet - Ophelia, and Gertrude.

There are countless interpretations of Hamlet, and although some re-think the relationship of Hamlet to the women (or at their worst, conflate the two women into one), it is rare to see the relationship between these two women explored. Enter Kehler’s (O)Phelia, which is written brilliantly in verse, and provides insight into what may have transpired between the women that allowed Gertrude to have knowledge of Ophelia’s death, while also helping us to understand the motivations of these two women, whose choices may otherwise be easy to judge. The piece is performed thoughtfully and intelligently by Kehler and Melissa Langdon, whose Ophelia is fiery yet sensitive.

I strongly recommend checking out this new work. It deserves a bigger audience, and future productions.

Review. Inner Elder by Michelle Thrush @ Nightwood & Native Earth

My cheeks hurt. Michelle Thrush shares her beautiful, sad, funny, wonderful personal story in a lovely, winding way. While there are moments of tension, and beats of the story that hearken back to one another, it would be challenging to describe it as “dramatic” in the usual sense of the word…and that’s all for the better. Thrush shows us women of many ages and experiences, from the plucky young girl who “raises” her parents, to the hilarious elder who leads a dance party. Each character is unique physically and it is pure delight to watch Thrush transform from one character to the next. The script was filled with pop culture references spanning a lifetime, with a distinct commentary on the bodies we see and hear from, and whose stories are typically told.

The staging used the space beautifully, similarly transforming seamlessly to create multiple spaces.

Honestly, I don’t even know what else to say. It was just wonderful. Go see it.

D'Arcy Symposium - First Annual Pop-Up Art Show - May 26

Sweet Mama and the Salty Muffins is getting a one-night remount! We are pleased to be invited to share the play as part of the first annual D'Arcy Symposium Pop-Up art show. The show will bring together installations and performances from a variety of artists in a 120 year old house in downtown Toronto. The show runs throughout the evening on May 26 and is PWYC. More details here. 

Alumnae Theatre's 100th Season, and 30th New Ideas Festival

I am extremely excited to share that I am directing the world premiere of Ciarán Myers' new play Sweet Mama and the Salty Muffins as part of the New Ideas Festival at Alumnae Theatre. 

More on the play later...but before that, the festival are looking for volunteers! Alumnae are now in their 100th season, fuelled by members and volunteers, bringing new work to the stage. 

Stage Managers review this link  

Actors review this link for auditions
 
Rehearsals will begin January 30th and thereafter for the productions March 7-25. There are a plethora of ages, genders, types, etc to audition for across staged readings of longer works in development, and full productions, so plenty for actors to chew on. This is a non-union opportunity, but a great group of people. All auditions are for all plays, actors are grouped by age and gender so that directors can sit in on the groups relevant for their casting needs.

I am specifically looking for a female performer over 30 (really anywhere over 30 works, if it is the right person!) for a demanding one-hander that will be in full production. 

review. Hedda Gabler @ Canadian Stage

Full disclosure: I love this play. It is probably my favourite play, or at least in my top 5 favourite plays. Without hyperbole. This means my experience of it is tinged with an absurd over-drawn understanding of the characters and relationships, and of course coloured by my own experiences playing and understanding Miss Hedda. 

That all said, my feeling is that this production was, on the whole, disjointed. Cara Ricketts was outstanding. Her portrayal of Hedda was nuanced and playful; her Hedda was every bit as wicked and as childishly lovable as we expect Hedda to be. Unfortunately, I felt that the other actors, though fine performers, were almost in a different production of the play. While with Hedda, one could see the magnetism of Lovborg, unfortunately in other scenes his work felt flat. Tesman was lovely and charming, but somehow didn't feel at all connected to Hedda. And the choice to de-sexualize Judge Brack left those scenes feeling empty. By time we reach the climax of the play (for in this play, the denouement is so short as to almost not exist) we hardly felt the tension needed to understand Hedda's choices, so that instead of feeling trapped and powerless, we felt she had lost her mind. 

I do wonder at the choice of setting the play in the 1950s. Although this modernizes it somewhat compared to the original, our contemporary feeling about the period is still one of snobbish superiority; women can work now, and can leave their husbands without (much) scandal, so look how far we've come? While the 1950s provided an opportunity for beautifully stylish sets and costumes, I do think that the distancing of time enabled the audience to remain distant from this woman and her choices, ultimately limiting our ability to comprehend her final choice. To be truly daring (to borrow Hedda's words) I would love to see a Hedda Gabler set today. Despite how far we have come, there are still considerable pressures on women to marry, and have kids -- except now the pressure is to have a career too! The "Have it all" mentality is today's Hedda, and I think a far more interesting and fruitful place for us to look at her now. 

Photo: Cara Ricketts in Hedda Gabler. Photo by Dahlia Katz.