review. The Encounter @ Barbican London (via Live Stream) - Complicité

I often rant on about how theatre can be magical. This is a difficult rant, because for most people, the experience of truly magical theatrical experiences is just a myth. They've heard tell of it, but never truly been encompassed and transformed in the way that theatre has the capacity to do for us. 

This can change. 

Complicité are known for their genre-defying, technically stupendous work, so it is not surprising that when they set out to create an immersive play out of sounds, for which you sit with others but wear headphones, they succeeded in creating something truly magical. Written and performed by the company's leader, the astounding Simon McBurney, The Encounter is an audio experience -- but that doesn't do it justice. It is an overwhelming sensory experience, a new way of feeling a story, not just hearing or seeing it. It is a man and sound; nothing more. I won't say a ton, other than to let you know that you will not soon encounter anything quite like this. 

Lucky for us, The Encounter isn't limited in space and time; thanks to technology, you can stream the recorded live stream from The Barbican in London for a week via Complicité's Youtube channel. 

Do yourself a favour. Put on the headphones, turn everything else off, and immerse yourself for the 2 hours of The Encounter. I assure you, you will not regret it. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ghc-DM1TVWU

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.

review. Nirbhaya @ Harbourfront Centre presented by Nightwood Theatre

Yaël Farber's stunning play is one of the most challenging things you will experience. Beginning with  the real life attack and killing of a young woman who innocently boarded a bus in Delhi. From this horrific event, Farber and the cast of women (and one man) created a truth telling wherein the audience don't simply watch, but rather bear witness to the individual stories of objectification, abuse, and fear from each of these individuals. The bravery of the performers not only in sharing their truth, but in the sheer physical and emotional exertion of the performance is matched by the magical staging Farber provides, in which space and time conflate, objects come alive, and we are confronted with the loss of the joy in childhood and youth, which is the result of these terrible events.

The play is difficult to watch. The stories are graphic, and are not staged gingerly; rather we are reminded that these things happen around us, no matter where we are. Interestingly and with great effect, the stories initially are all in India however one of the last takes place in Montreal, a stark and shocking reminder that innocence and hope are at risk of being lost no matter where we are.

I strongly recommend that you seek our a production of this play. Thank you, Nightwood, for bringing this to Toronto.

A brief video is available here:  https://vimeo.com/110472670

review. This Is How We Die by Christopher Brett Bailey @ The Theatre Centre (For Progress Festival & Forest Fringe)

Toronto's Progress Festival hosted a number of performances from Edinburgh's Forest Fringe over a two-day period at The Theatre Centre in late January. With only limited time, I managed to squeak in one show on the recommendation of some friends in the UK, and was certainly not disappointed.

The stage space is mainly dark, with just a desk and microphone, with a script sitting on the desk. What follows is a stream of consciousness story-poem assault on the senses. The story weaves in space and time and focus, meandering through thoughts and ideas and most importantly, memories. Brett Bailey is a captivating performer, and his ability to use words (just words, no movement or set or props) to build an arch are outstanding. Without going too much away, the pace of the story races forward until it crashes into darkness, out of which emerges a meditation of sorts; in the dark with lights facing the audience and almost unbearably loud music, the audience sit. And think. And continue to sit and think and think.

Stunning stuff.

I do feel that the stories themselves could have been slightly more concise, just to trim slightly before the final, beautiful and unsettling moments.