"Your problems are, what is that word you taught me? - dinky."
So says Christian, the only real grown-up in the room as he leaves the over-heated loft of Marrell and Tom, the thirty-something couple and their friends Jane and Alan in THIS, an articulate, well-acted, well-designed but unsatisfying exploration of the beginning of mid-life, currently on at The Berkley Street Theatre at Canadian Stage.
Let me begin by saying this production is worth seeing for the uniformly fantastic acting, the inventive re-design of the space by Astrid Janson and the cerebral direction of Matthew Jocelyn which is both one of the production's strengths and part of its problems.
The script, which while witty,
articulate and well-observed was full of people I couldn't warm up to. The acting made me care. The
writing didn't. THIS is admirable to watch, but not easy to love.
Jane (a wonderfully angst-ridden and awkward Laura Condlln) is a poet and educator, recently widowed and left to raise a daughter we never see, though they have a scene together. Jane's best girlfriend since college, Marrell, decides Jane needs to "get over it" and her solution is to set Jane up with a guy she herself finds hot, Christian, a buff, French, single doctor who works for Doctors Without Borders.
The problems here is Marrell wants to sleep with Christian as the sex in her marriage has gone down the toilet since having a baby that wakes up every 15 minutes. Yanna McIntosh made her character's sexual, emotional and professional frustration palpable.
Her husband Tom wants to sleep with Jane. Jane wants to sleep with her gay best friend Alan, an alcoholic singleton with a career based on an eidetic memory, Alan has the hots for Christian. Christian cops to being bisexual but finds Alan's solipsistic wit and drunkenness "irritating".
The problems with this play began, as they so often do in life, when actual sex rears its selfish and ugly head.
I really wish the one sex scene, so germane to the plot of this play, if
you can use the word plot this loosely, hadn't taken place on stage, for
all kinds of reasons.
As Tom, a self-pitying and selfish asshole of an
underachieving husband, Jonathon Young makes a meal of playing a really
unlikeable guy with a big chip on his shoulder. The articulation of his desire for Jane was far more
electrifying, dangerous and sexy than their awkward tryst. I am no prude about sex onstage. There was plenty of it last week in ARIGATO TOKYO but is intrinsic and felt natural. Last night, I felt sorry for the actors having to do that in front of us . It felt unnecessary and almost exploitative. I sat there thinking some things really are better left to the
Then there are the things I wish Jocelyn had let happen on stage. I really wish that baby had screamed
every 15 minutes in every scene it was in until the end. I wish the writer had made the sullen, grief-stricken 9 year old an
Once you have kids, you have to grow up. You either give up being selfish
or you become a really shitty parent. That is the real struggle I see most of
my late thirty-something friends engaged in, besides failed career
expectations and overwhelming debt. I sure didn't see that struggle on stage in any substantial way last night. It gets hinted at, but never really happens.
Melissa James Gibson, the much-awarded writer said in the program notes she initially thought she was writing about infidelity, but really she was writing about mortality. THIS is a little about both, but really, about nothing much.
Maybe I'm too old for this kind of thing. Or maybe it's too hard to
watch a play about an affair in a group of friends when I've seen
Pinter's BETRAYAL brilliantly done a few times.
I've had friends die too young. I dated a man whose best friend committed suicide. When he spoke of him, more than 20 years later, stone-faced and dry eyed, I felt the pain of his loss and his guilt for surviving, as though the death had happened last week.
There needed to be a hole in the room
where Roy, the departed husband, used to be. He needs to be the elephant in the room and he is hardly there in the play. Neither Roy, nor the hole
left by his absence is made palpable by the writer until the end. It was
and Nashman's thankless task to try and deliver a pay-off emotionally
that isn't on the page. They did a terrific job.
When I got home, I
wished I'd had a copy of GHOST or TRULY, MADLY,
DEEPLY or hell, BLITHE SPIRIT to watch. I found myself craving something about death where the writing was as good as the acting.
I was very glad to have seen the play for the wonderful acting, some of the inventive directing and the terrific set. As for great writing: I got that from Daniel McIvor last weekend.