Friends or colleagues do a show: you go to see it, and the show doesn't work. Is the diplomatic thing to say nothing? Certainly the politic thing is to say nothing. Is it helpful to try and give a reasoned analysis of what worked, or didn't work, and why? Are they going to hate you for it? Or, does stuff only get better if the audience and the artists really discuss the work?
I started this blog, in part, because I thought we needed a more open dialogue about work onstage, and working in the theatre. I write about film for the joy, as my niece would say. I don't expect everybody to agree with me. I welcome debate and dialogue.
Last Sunday, I went to see FREE AS INJUNS, Native Earth Performing Arts' production of Tara Beagan's new script. Freely adapting Eugene O'Neill's DESIRE UNDER THE ELMS, Beagan and her crew use O'Neill's play as a jumping off point to talk about land, ownership, property and race.
In theory, if you put a talented, award winning, young writer (Beagan) and a talented, award-winning director (Madoc-Jones) together, and you do a play about race and sex, you should get a great show.
I can see why Beagan was drawn to this material. The plot (which O'Neill lifted from PHEDRE, the great French tragedy by Racine, and Sarah Bernhardt's signature role) is sexually charged and seditious. A domineering father with three sons (and three dead wives, making him a sort of Bluebeard) brings home a nubile wife, young enough to be his daughter. She falls in love with the youngest son, they begin an affair, and plot to take over the family farm, wresting it from the two other brothers and the old man. The son, in this version of the story, does this to avenge his dead Aboriginal mother, whose land the white father ostensibly stole.
It's a premise that churns out sex, conflict and danger. It's "the mirror held up to Nature", both sides of Nature: as a life-giving force that grows good and nurtures (the mommy) and, as a brutal and pitiless weapon of wanton destruction (the daddy). There's an creative set, some interesting directorial choices and a game cast. It should have worked, but it doesn't.
This is in large measure due to a script that has two fundamental problems.
Problem #1: who is the protagonist?
Problem #2: what happens at the beginning, what happens in the middle, and what happens in the end? In short, what is the clear line of action taken, or not taken, by the protagonist to achieve, or not achieve his or her objective?
These are the two most basic things you have to accomplish in telling any story. I drill this into my writing students, and I make them rewrite until they get it straight. Any time a script doesn't work, it's usually because one of those two basic things falls apart.
O'Neill is all about Daddies. Freud would have had a field day with with him. Phedre is all about Mommy. Beagan wants to make this all about the kids, and what they inherit, or don't inherit from their parents.
So in this version, the protagonist is Even Cabot, the youngest son. In theory, it's not a bad choice. He's the one torn between avenging his mother, and being held in the terrifying thrall of his father. James Cade is a good, well-trained actor. It's not his fault we lose his character two-thirds of the way through the story. That fault lies squarely with the writer.
If Even is going to be the lynch pin of the action, then he has to drive the story all the way through. He needs to be the engine of the action start to finish. He isn't and this is problem #1 and #2 with this show.
As it is, there's no clear protagonist so no clear through-line of action in the play.
The script also has other problems.
There's the whole race/time period thing. What century are we in? In the 21st century, I have no problem believing a guy has had three different non-white wives. I'm from a generation where some men with power trade in wives like cars: a new one every 5 years. In this play, which seems to take place in the late 19th or early 20th century, I'm just not buying the whole three kids, three different races of baby mommas thing. I get it: we're talking about white male oppression. I'm a half-breed myself.
Here's the thing, assuming this is a period piece: in the late 19th and early 20th century women couldn't own or inherit property. We weren't people until the Persons Act. Women went from their father's house to their husband's. Land went from fathers to sons, eldest sons, usually. As to an Aboriginal woman's right to live on Aboriginal land, if she married a white man: Bill C-54 was a fairly recent piece of legislation. Aboriginal men were quite happy to embrace that particular aspect of white patriarchy. Was the whole country 1st Nations Land at one time? You betcha. That is not the argument being made here, or if it is, it is not being made very clearly.
I understand the mixed race sons as a metaphor, an idea: it just doesn't work as drama in this play as it is presently constructed. This is either a historical drama: in which case it needs to demonstrate some basic knowledge of history, of the law as it pertained to women, and property rights, or it is contemporary. If it's a fairy tale, it would need to be a whole lot less foul mouthed and prosaic.
I have no idea why the two brothers, when handed a bag of money, didn't just run off. It made no sense, and their continued presence did nothing to further the plot or advance the story. The two brothers aren't germane to moving the action of the play forward.
There's a lot of repetition of the same line for dramatic effect, but in most cases, it didn't work and just dragged down the pace of the show.
Then there's the problems of casting and direction. In a three way, there has to be credible sexual chemistry in both couples in the love triangle, not just one of the relationships. I buy the young lovers here, but the play is directed to make this a marriage with no sexual charge, and it can't be.
Jerry Franken is a fine actor but he is totally physically wrong for this, and the wrong age. In their sex scenes, he and Prudat just look embarrassed. In order to believe you have three grown men in the thrall of their father, he has to be a powerful and terrifying patriarchal figure: nature personified as a dark force. He's killed three wives with work or child-bearing. He's a brute and he has to dominate the stage when he's on it. He is the rapacious white 'civilizer" personified. Franken does his best in a role to which he is woefully unsuited.
Finally there's the lovely young actress at the centre of this mess, PJ Prudat. She is completely untrained: not seated in her voice, doesn't build a credible emotional character arch, and badly miscast. She plays the young love stuff fine, but both husband and lover need to be held in her sexual thrall. She needs to be equally seductive with both of them. Moreover, she needs to be older for the whole Oedipal thing to really work. A woman with sexual and emotional power needed to anchor this show, and this young lady is just playing a pretty girl with the hots for the wrong boy. Her come-on to Cade reads like a girl in a nightclub, not like a woman seducing a boy. We needed a 35ish actress, a 50 something year old dad, and a 20-25 year old son.
Not one person I spoke to was sure what happened at the end of the play. The director made some nice stage pictures, but did nothing to clarify the story, or escalate conflict, or lead us to a satisfying, or even a clear denouement. Leaving the actress half naked for as long as she did was just weird: distracting, and, unnecessary.
There are a lot of good ideas in this draft, and I think Beagan has a better version of this play in her. It needs a page one rewrite that clarifies story, picks one protagonist, sticks with that choice, and escalates conflict to a bloody conclusion. Right now, it ends up feels like a badly conceived (all puns intended) kitchen sink melodrama.
Finally, I want to say this: it is pretty hard to take over the helm of a major theatre and mount two plays you've written in the same year, which is what Beagan has attempted to do this year. I suspect Beagan needed more time to focus on writing a script of this scope than she got. Hopefully her duties at the helm on Native Earth will be less onerous, and her next outing as a writer will get more of her time and talent.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Thursday, March 1, 2012
And now, ladies and gentlemen, an Oscar-winning fairy tale for grown-ups...
The run-away freight-train at last Sunday's Oscar ceremony was a silent, black and white film starring a bunch of French people no one on this side of the pond has ever heard of. THE ARTIST took best actor, best picture and best director.
The Oscars are irresistible to me. They are an issue of April Vanity Fair and September Vogue rolled into one. When the incredibly dashing Jean Dujardin, oozing Gallic charm and twinkle out of every pore leaped onto the stage and thanked both his partner (a woman) and his wife, I thought: " how bad can 90 minutes in a dark room on a rainy afternoon possibly be, if spent in the company of this man?" Besides, he beat both George Clooney (!) and Brad Pitt (!) and that is quite something.
Jean Dujardin ( channelling Douglas Fairbanks) plays Georges Valentin, a dashing, vain, handsome silent film star who has coasted by on charm and a great repertoire of hamminess until 1929 wipes out both his investments and his career with the advent of talking pictures.
It is the great gift of Dujardin's performance that he makes a selfish asshole a likable and sympathetic guy. It's no mean feat.
I'm not going to spoil the plot here, but the director is 45 and the film is a vehicle for his (at least 10 years younger) wife. The lovely and talented Berenice Bejo plays an ingenue who becomes a star and saves the dissolute Georges Valentin from himself, his pride, his wounded ego, his solipsism and the bottle. In short, it is another story about a man having a mid-life crisis being rescued by a younger, richer, prettier and more successful woman. As they say in French: "reve on colour", which means "dream in Technicolour". This is "Pretty Woman" for middle-aged men and at the height of a recession when way more women than men are working, I'm sure this story resonated for a lot of people.
As the appropriately named Peppy Miller, Bejo reminded me in face and manner of a young Lesley Caron. She's delightful, but saving arrogant drunks from their own foibles is a mug's game as anyone who has ever tried it can tell you.
The film is a loving homage to old movies and I can see why the Academy fell head over heels for it. Under all that lovely marzipan, especially the end musical number is a story that for this viewer is an old and poisonous fairy tale. You can't save anyone who doesn't want to be saved. I enjoyed it, as long as I didn't think too hard about the story.
THE ARTIST speaks one great truth: if you want unquestioning loyalty, no matter how badly you behave to those who care for you or how far your fortunes fall, get a dog.
The Oscars are irresistible to me. They are an issue of April Vanity Fair and September Vogue rolled into one. When the incredibly dashing Jean Dujardin, oozing Gallic charm and twinkle out of every pore leaped onto the stage and thanked both his partner (a woman) and his wife, I thought: " how bad can 90 minutes in a dark room on a rainy afternoon possibly be, if spent in the company of this man?" Besides, he beat both George Clooney (!) and Brad Pitt (!) and that is quite something.
Jean Dujardin ( channelling Douglas Fairbanks) plays Georges Valentin, a dashing, vain, handsome silent film star who has coasted by on charm and a great repertoire of hamminess until 1929 wipes out both his investments and his career with the advent of talking pictures.
It is the great gift of Dujardin's performance that he makes a selfish asshole a likable and sympathetic guy. It's no mean feat.
I'm not going to spoil the plot here, but the director is 45 and the film is a vehicle for his (at least 10 years younger) wife. The lovely and talented Berenice Bejo plays an ingenue who becomes a star and saves the dissolute Georges Valentin from himself, his pride, his wounded ego, his solipsism and the bottle. In short, it is another story about a man having a mid-life crisis being rescued by a younger, richer, prettier and more successful woman. As they say in French: "reve on colour", which means "dream in Technicolour". This is "Pretty Woman" for middle-aged men and at the height of a recession when way more women than men are working, I'm sure this story resonated for a lot of people.
As the appropriately named Peppy Miller, Bejo reminded me in face and manner of a young Lesley Caron. She's delightful, but saving arrogant drunks from their own foibles is a mug's game as anyone who has ever tried it can tell you.
The film is a loving homage to old movies and I can see why the Academy fell head over heels for it. Under all that lovely marzipan, especially the end musical number is a story that for this viewer is an old and poisonous fairy tale. You can't save anyone who doesn't want to be saved. I enjoyed it, as long as I didn't think too hard about the story.
THE ARTIST speaks one great truth: if you want unquestioning loyalty, no matter how badly you behave to those who care for you or how far your fortunes fall, get a dog.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Spectacle and Substance on stage in Toronto
It's been ages since I've written.
My birthday was a few weeks back and I always regard that as the start of my personal new year. One of my goals for this year is to blog about film and theatre I've seen in the preceding week, every Friday. So to quote a rather famous line from a film, "I'm back!"
The past week was an embarrassment of theatrical riches. Over at the Royal Alex, Robert Lepage's production of his own play "The Blue Dragon" was closing and I went on the last afternoon.
Aesthetically, it was beautiful. A two-tiered set with English surtitles projected in the space between the levels, Chinese dance and wire work, calligraphy that was projected onto the wall as it was being painted on the floor: the protagonist is a visual artist in the centre of a love triangle and the set was lovely to look at.
Two damaged middle-aged people: a woman who is a careerist in manufacturing and an alcoholic and a man, a failed artist who runs a gallery, reconnect in China. Long ago, they were married but he, overwhelmed by the expectations of a domineering father fled the relationship and Quebec to pursue a career abroad.
His self abuse of choice is body art. The blue dragon of the title was inked onto him by a young woman, an ambitious visual artist who he has taken as a lover and a client. She is young enough to be his daughter and she is using him to advance her own career.
His ex-wife is in China to adopt a daughter. She has longed for a child all of her life and is now too old to have one herself.
Blue Dragon is in many ways, a sad play about lost hopes and failed ambitions. Like many depressed people, it seemed curiously without passion. The bed on the second level is pushed off to one side up top. In a love triangle, it seemed to me to need to be front and centre. The visual elements dominated and the relationships between the three characters suffered as a result.
There was fine acting but there was no credible chemistry between Michel and his former wife. Without that palpable sexual frisson, the story lost some of its zing.
I was very happy to have seen it. Lepage, even when he is flawed is always a master of stagecraft and some of the writing was sheer poetry.
February is the month for high romance in this part of the world and the COC poured it on in their exquisite production of LOVE FROM AFAR.
I've seldom seen a show where all the elements: music, libretto, performances, direction, choreography and set and lighting design were so marvelously in harmony, enhancing and supporting each other.
As the orchestra played the overture, a giant blue silk flew over the heads of the audience like a moving sky, pooled onto the floor of the stage and transformed it into a rippling sea. The sea vanished into a trap after the set representing the Prince's chateau in Aquitaine flew in. I felt my heart leap in my chest. I knew we were in for a night of pure theatrical magic.
Russell Braun and Erin Wall play the lovers divided by an ocean. He is a prince and a poet who longs for a woman he cannot find among the dissolute members of his court. His friend, the Pilgrim (exquisitely sung by the fabulous mezzo Kristina Szabo) tells him such a woman exists in Tripoli, a Countess. The Prince begins to write songs in her praise. When the Pilgrim goes abroad he visits the Countess and tells her of this love from afar, singing her some of the songs the Prince has written in her honour.
She says she is unworthy: in life she is not the woman he fantasizes about.
As he regales her with this tale, we see the Prince walking in the background dropping sheets of paper.
When the Pilgrim returns to France he lets the Prince know that the Lady is now aware of his passion. Angry at his friend for telling and then terrified she will reject him when he arrives, he undertakes the sea voyage and the stress makes him so ill, he arrives and dies in her arms. She takes the veil.
Ah opera! Is anything more romantic or less like life? The set by Jean Rabasse was the most fantastically beautiful I have ever seen onstage at a theatre. He has built three shows for Cirque du Soleil and designed films for the French film duo of Marc Caro and Jean-Pierre Jeunet. The synthesis of this theatrical, circus and cinematic experience was the icing on a near-perfect production.
For most of us "long distance relationship" like "military intelligence" turns out to be an oxymoron. For one perfect night, the COC and an international crew of stellar artists made a lovely dream palpable. For a few brief hours LOVE FROM AFAR set fire to our hearts.
My birthday was a few weeks back and I always regard that as the start of my personal new year. One of my goals for this year is to blog about film and theatre I've seen in the preceding week, every Friday. So to quote a rather famous line from a film, "I'm back!"
The past week was an embarrassment of theatrical riches. Over at the Royal Alex, Robert Lepage's production of his own play "The Blue Dragon" was closing and I went on the last afternoon.
Aesthetically, it was beautiful. A two-tiered set with English surtitles projected in the space between the levels, Chinese dance and wire work, calligraphy that was projected onto the wall as it was being painted on the floor: the protagonist is a visual artist in the centre of a love triangle and the set was lovely to look at.
Two damaged middle-aged people: a woman who is a careerist in manufacturing and an alcoholic and a man, a failed artist who runs a gallery, reconnect in China. Long ago, they were married but he, overwhelmed by the expectations of a domineering father fled the relationship and Quebec to pursue a career abroad.
His self abuse of choice is body art. The blue dragon of the title was inked onto him by a young woman, an ambitious visual artist who he has taken as a lover and a client. She is young enough to be his daughter and she is using him to advance her own career.
His ex-wife is in China to adopt a daughter. She has longed for a child all of her life and is now too old to have one herself.
Blue Dragon is in many ways, a sad play about lost hopes and failed ambitions. Like many depressed people, it seemed curiously without passion. The bed on the second level is pushed off to one side up top. In a love triangle, it seemed to me to need to be front and centre. The visual elements dominated and the relationships between the three characters suffered as a result.
There was fine acting but there was no credible chemistry between Michel and his former wife. Without that palpable sexual frisson, the story lost some of its zing.
I was very happy to have seen it. Lepage, even when he is flawed is always a master of stagecraft and some of the writing was sheer poetry.
February is the month for high romance in this part of the world and the COC poured it on in their exquisite production of LOVE FROM AFAR.
I've seldom seen a show where all the elements: music, libretto, performances, direction, choreography and set and lighting design were so marvelously in harmony, enhancing and supporting each other.
As the orchestra played the overture, a giant blue silk flew over the heads of the audience like a moving sky, pooled onto the floor of the stage and transformed it into a rippling sea. The sea vanished into a trap after the set representing the Prince's chateau in Aquitaine flew in. I felt my heart leap in my chest. I knew we were in for a night of pure theatrical magic.
Russell Braun and Erin Wall play the lovers divided by an ocean. He is a prince and a poet who longs for a woman he cannot find among the dissolute members of his court. His friend, the Pilgrim (exquisitely sung by the fabulous mezzo Kristina Szabo) tells him such a woman exists in Tripoli, a Countess. The Prince begins to write songs in her praise. When the Pilgrim goes abroad he visits the Countess and tells her of this love from afar, singing her some of the songs the Prince has written in her honour.
She says she is unworthy: in life she is not the woman he fantasizes about.
As he regales her with this tale, we see the Prince walking in the background dropping sheets of paper.
When the Pilgrim returns to France he lets the Prince know that the Lady is now aware of his passion. Angry at his friend for telling and then terrified she will reject him when he arrives, he undertakes the sea voyage and the stress makes him so ill, he arrives and dies in her arms. She takes the veil.
Ah opera! Is anything more romantic or less like life? The set by Jean Rabasse was the most fantastically beautiful I have ever seen onstage at a theatre. He has built three shows for Cirque du Soleil and designed films for the French film duo of Marc Caro and Jean-Pierre Jeunet. The synthesis of this theatrical, circus and cinematic experience was the icing on a near-perfect production.
For most of us "long distance relationship" like "military intelligence" turns out to be an oxymoron. For one perfect night, the COC and an international crew of stellar artists made a lovely dream palpable. For a few brief hours LOVE FROM AFAR set fire to our hearts.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Amateurs, Armchair critics and Fringing in beautiful Victoria
I've been on the road for 6 weeks now. Edmonton which was frenetic and fantastic is well behind me and I am coming into week two at the VICTORIA FRINGE. It's my first time in this city and at this festival.
My darling eldest niece lives in this part of the world as does one of my oldest friends, the fine visual artist Maery Callaghan. Victoria is beautiful, I have a great tech,an idyllic billet and the weather is fine.
What's hard here: houses for the most part are small and the level of discourse online about the work at the festival is mostly painful.
There are 72 shows on here this week. I have yet to see a performance or flier a line-up that had more than 70 people in it. I hear there are people selling out and I hope it's true. It's nearly $600 to be in the festival. If you add the cost of flights or gas,food,posters,fliers,costumes and figure out what a performer makes when they play to 20 people a night you can easily see why some really talented people come here once and don't come back. It's the math - or rather just straight addition and subtraction.
As to the fifth estate: the reviewers in the Times-Colonist,the main paper are thoughtful and well-informed but there's only so many shows two people can write up in 10 days. Unlike Winnipeg the CBC doesn't seem to be giving the festival much coverage.
I arrived here off really good press in Edmonton from some tough pro critics in the dailies. I think Edmonton and Toronto have the toughest and some of the best theatre journalists in the country. I fear them and I often disagree with them, but I at least have respect for most of them.
I've been praised and slagged across the country for years now. I'll take a beat-down when I deserve it and try make the work better.
A problem in many smaller markets is that except for the dailies and hopefully the weekly arts journal reviewers, shows are being reviewed, in the main, by audience members and amateur critics online. These people mostly aren't paid and they mostly aren't pros.
You can have 6 months hard work dismissed in three lines by someone who reviews as a hobby, informally for nothing with no real background in your artistic discipline or any related education.
What this usually means is our audiences read critiques devoid of any real discourse about plot,character or structure: no consciousness of direction,rarely if ever any talk about design,pacing or heaven forbid,a discussion of the play in a historical or literary context.
"I liked or I didn't like the character" isn't a review. It's an opinion with no context. You aren't supposed to like Iago.
Plays are literature, word made flesh. I am all for online reviews. I would just really like to raise the standard of the writing about theatre online. Comments by audience members are NOT reviews, they are remarks. Good and bad, they need to be read the same way you'd take chat in a bar.
As a producer friend of mine pointed out in a recent conversation, when theatre is discussed as "entertainment" by random bloggers, restaurant,rock music and movie reviewers and other people who are really don't have an informed or qualified opinion, it cheapens and diminishes the whole process. Trust me, I'm not writing about hockey or opera here for a reason. I don't know enough about either to make informed commentary.
I did get well-written reviews from real journalists in Edmonton in the Sun and the Journal and I was grateful that someone thought hard about my work, because God knows I thought hard when I wrote it. Not all my fellow artists were so lucky. One friend of mine had his brilliant, dense cowboy musical full of references to Greek tragedy reviewed by the Journal rock critic who couldn't see the allegorical aspects of the fine script because she clearly lacked the literary education to be able to discuss the text in an informed fashion.
Yes there are amateur actors and neophyte playwrights out here. They only harm themselves when they are shoddy. Bad amateur critics harm everybody. They keep audiences away from good shows and damage the reputations of artists who deserve better writing and informed and lucid discourse, not tossed off opinion about their work.
Some shows I have seen and liked currently playing here:
JEM ROLLS IS PISSED OFF - because Jem can write,he's intelligent ,lucid,passionate and he is a great performance poet.
GRIM AND FISHER - you are unlikely to see a better physical theatre performance or a more moving and affecting show this year anywhere.
HOUDINI'S LAST ESCAPE: because Monster Theatre has tackled a great piece of theatre history with warmth and style and Bange and Travis bring seasoned performances and great stage chemistry to this artful creation, ably directed by Ryan Gladstone.
THE DONNELLY SIDESHOW: Jeff Culbert acts, he sings, he writes, he illuminates a dark corner of Canadian history in a lyrical and understated fashion and Jason MacDonald who directed is a very talented theatre creator.
LIMBO: Andrew Bailey is a brilliant writer and this is one of the most moving pleas for compassion for an outsider and one of the most beautifully written plays I've seen this year.
AN INCONVENIENT TRUTHINESS: Well written look at the dark side and the benefits of fandom.
THE SPARROW AND THE MOUSE is charming and Melanie Gall is a fine singer. I am going to see BREMNER DULTHIE do KABARETT 33 because you couldn't get a ticket in Winnipeg and I loved his Weimar cabaret in Edmonton. PHONE WHORE will take you for a walk on a sexual wild side with a searing set of stories you won't soon forget. THE HYSTERIC is a charming and clever parody of Victorian melodrama, stylishly performed and written. THE SEMINAR from Edmonton is a scalpel sharp critique of the "beauty" industry performed by a fine crew of young actor-writers from Edmonton. Miss Rosie Bitts is a burlesque artist who makes every reveal a lovely tableau. I have seen all of these performers and I can assure you they are well worth $11.00.
I'm planning to check out BURNING BROTHELS and anything else I can squeeze in on the days I'm dark.
Many of these artists have also had good press in the mainstream media.
What the hell do I know? I've been in this business since I was 3 1/2,I have a degree in theatre,I'm an award-winning writer,I see over 50 shows a year and for the most part,writing, acting and teaching people to write is how I make my living. I've been involved with the Fringe as a writer, producer and a performer since 1999.
By the way most venues have hard seating. Bring a pillow. If you were after a numb brain and a comfy duff you'd be home on the couch in front of the telly, wouldn't you?
My darling eldest niece lives in this part of the world as does one of my oldest friends, the fine visual artist Maery Callaghan. Victoria is beautiful, I have a great tech,an idyllic billet and the weather is fine.
What's hard here: houses for the most part are small and the level of discourse online about the work at the festival is mostly painful.
There are 72 shows on here this week. I have yet to see a performance or flier a line-up that had more than 70 people in it. I hear there are people selling out and I hope it's true. It's nearly $600 to be in the festival. If you add the cost of flights or gas,food,posters,fliers,costumes and figure out what a performer makes when they play to 20 people a night you can easily see why some really talented people come here once and don't come back. It's the math - or rather just straight addition and subtraction.
As to the fifth estate: the reviewers in the Times-Colonist,the main paper are thoughtful and well-informed but there's only so many shows two people can write up in 10 days. Unlike Winnipeg the CBC doesn't seem to be giving the festival much coverage.
I arrived here off really good press in Edmonton from some tough pro critics in the dailies. I think Edmonton and Toronto have the toughest and some of the best theatre journalists in the country. I fear them and I often disagree with them, but I at least have respect for most of them.
I've been praised and slagged across the country for years now. I'll take a beat-down when I deserve it and try make the work better.
A problem in many smaller markets is that except for the dailies and hopefully the weekly arts journal reviewers, shows are being reviewed, in the main, by audience members and amateur critics online. These people mostly aren't paid and they mostly aren't pros.
You can have 6 months hard work dismissed in three lines by someone who reviews as a hobby, informally for nothing with no real background in your artistic discipline or any related education.
What this usually means is our audiences read critiques devoid of any real discourse about plot,character or structure: no consciousness of direction,rarely if ever any talk about design,pacing or heaven forbid,a discussion of the play in a historical or literary context.
"I liked or I didn't like the character" isn't a review. It's an opinion with no context. You aren't supposed to like Iago.
Plays are literature, word made flesh. I am all for online reviews. I would just really like to raise the standard of the writing about theatre online. Comments by audience members are NOT reviews, they are remarks. Good and bad, they need to be read the same way you'd take chat in a bar.
As a producer friend of mine pointed out in a recent conversation, when theatre is discussed as "entertainment" by random bloggers, restaurant,rock music and movie reviewers and other people who are really don't have an informed or qualified opinion, it cheapens and diminishes the whole process. Trust me, I'm not writing about hockey or opera here for a reason. I don't know enough about either to make informed commentary.
I did get well-written reviews from real journalists in Edmonton in the Sun and the Journal and I was grateful that someone thought hard about my work, because God knows I thought hard when I wrote it. Not all my fellow artists were so lucky. One friend of mine had his brilliant, dense cowboy musical full of references to Greek tragedy reviewed by the Journal rock critic who couldn't see the allegorical aspects of the fine script because she clearly lacked the literary education to be able to discuss the text in an informed fashion.
Yes there are amateur actors and neophyte playwrights out here. They only harm themselves when they are shoddy. Bad amateur critics harm everybody. They keep audiences away from good shows and damage the reputations of artists who deserve better writing and informed and lucid discourse, not tossed off opinion about their work.
Some shows I have seen and liked currently playing here:
JEM ROLLS IS PISSED OFF - because Jem can write,he's intelligent ,lucid,passionate and he is a great performance poet.
GRIM AND FISHER - you are unlikely to see a better physical theatre performance or a more moving and affecting show this year anywhere.
HOUDINI'S LAST ESCAPE: because Monster Theatre has tackled a great piece of theatre history with warmth and style and Bange and Travis bring seasoned performances and great stage chemistry to this artful creation, ably directed by Ryan Gladstone.
THE DONNELLY SIDESHOW: Jeff Culbert acts, he sings, he writes, he illuminates a dark corner of Canadian history in a lyrical and understated fashion and Jason MacDonald who directed is a very talented theatre creator.
LIMBO: Andrew Bailey is a brilliant writer and this is one of the most moving pleas for compassion for an outsider and one of the most beautifully written plays I've seen this year.
AN INCONVENIENT TRUTHINESS: Well written look at the dark side and the benefits of fandom.
THE SPARROW AND THE MOUSE is charming and Melanie Gall is a fine singer. I am going to see BREMNER DULTHIE do KABARETT 33 because you couldn't get a ticket in Winnipeg and I loved his Weimar cabaret in Edmonton. PHONE WHORE will take you for a walk on a sexual wild side with a searing set of stories you won't soon forget. THE HYSTERIC is a charming and clever parody of Victorian melodrama, stylishly performed and written. THE SEMINAR from Edmonton is a scalpel sharp critique of the "beauty" industry performed by a fine crew of young actor-writers from Edmonton. Miss Rosie Bitts is a burlesque artist who makes every reveal a lovely tableau. I have seen all of these performers and I can assure you they are well worth $11.00.
I'm planning to check out BURNING BROTHELS and anything else I can squeeze in on the days I'm dark.
Many of these artists have also had good press in the mainstream media.
What the hell do I know? I've been in this business since I was 3 1/2,I have a degree in theatre,I'm an award-winning writer,I see over 50 shows a year and for the most part,writing, acting and teaching people to write is how I make my living. I've been involved with the Fringe as a writer, producer and a performer since 1999.
By the way most venues have hard seating. Bring a pillow. If you were after a numb brain and a comfy duff you'd be home on the couch in front of the telly, wouldn't you?
Sunday, July 10, 2011
SEX, RELIGION and OTHER HANG-UPS: Time in Dating Purgatory is Pure Fringe Heaven
It was CHRIS GIBBS day for me at the Fringe yesterday. I saw both shows he's associated with in Toronto on Saturday: "Sex,Religion...." which he directed and THE SOAPS in which he was a participant.
"Sex,Religion..." is a young man, James Gangl talking about his quest for love. He starts the show by saying he's looking for a girlfriend.
Mr. Gangl then goes on to explain he's been raised as a devout Catholic. St. Genesius, the Patron Saint of Actors must certainly be smiling down on him.
Mr.Gangl is an extraordinarily gifted performer,both hilariously funny and deeply affecting. His script rises head and shoulders above most of the material I've seen in this genre,which I refer to as "the relationship show". He and Mr. Gibbs have given the play a sturdy structure,a wonderful series of emotional twists and turns and some terrific sight gags. The marriage of their talents is match made in well, Heaven.
I usually avoid plays on this topic like the plague. I have plenty of my own horror stories from the dating trenches. However,I liked this so much I'm going to take others back to see it: assuming I can get a seat. "Sex, Religion..." is in a small theatre. Get a ticket while you still can. Mr. Gangl has spun the dross of his love life into Fringe Gold.
THE SOAPS certainly also benefited from Mr. Gibbs considerable gifts for improv comedy last night. The premise: a theatre company at the Shawford Festival is a good one. This is a charming trifle of an amusement created nightly by NATIONAL THEATRE OF THE WORLD, an adept company of improv comics. The sold-out house was eating out of their hands.
"Sex,Religion..." is a young man, James Gangl talking about his quest for love. He starts the show by saying he's looking for a girlfriend.
Mr. Gangl then goes on to explain he's been raised as a devout Catholic. St. Genesius, the Patron Saint of Actors must certainly be smiling down on him.
Mr.Gangl is an extraordinarily gifted performer,both hilariously funny and deeply affecting. His script rises head and shoulders above most of the material I've seen in this genre,which I refer to as "the relationship show". He and Mr. Gibbs have given the play a sturdy structure,a wonderful series of emotional twists and turns and some terrific sight gags. The marriage of their talents is match made in well, Heaven.
I usually avoid plays on this topic like the plague. I have plenty of my own horror stories from the dating trenches. However,I liked this so much I'm going to take others back to see it: assuming I can get a seat. "Sex, Religion..." is in a small theatre. Get a ticket while you still can. Mr. Gangl has spun the dross of his love life into Fringe Gold.
THE SOAPS certainly also benefited from Mr. Gibbs considerable gifts for improv comedy last night. The premise: a theatre company at the Shawford Festival is a good one. This is a charming trifle of an amusement created nightly by NATIONAL THEATRE OF THE WORLD, an adept company of improv comics. The sold-out house was eating out of their hands.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year to be Random
Toronto is a very special Fringe for me. The first play I ever wrote got done here 13 years ago. I've since produced, directed and performed in the Toronto Fringe many times. I'm currently remounting WONDERBAR! a show I performed at the Toronto and Winnipeg Fringes in 2008, preparing to take it to Edmonton and Victoria. What this means is, like hundreds of thousands of other people this year, I'll be at the Toronto Fringe 2011 as a mere spectator. I'm really looking forward to it.
Two articles appeared in the Toronto Star this week highlighting some shows their arts writers thought might be worth checking out and giving some guidelines on how to pick the good from the bad in a festival with over 130 plays on offer.
Off the top of the Fringe, I'll see my friends' shows and I'll run in people I know who will flier me for their shows. This is mostly how I will choose shows for the first 5 days.
I am lucky enough to know talented performers here from all over the world. My director, Laura Anne Harris is also no slouch as an actress and is bringing PITCH BLONDE, her 5 star show about Judy Holliday and the McCarthy trials to Toronto. My friend Allan Girod is here all the way from Australia with WHEN HARRY MET HARRY, which was a hit in Ottawa last week and did well in Winnipeg last year. A very funny young lady,Sharilyn Johnson is doing AN INCONVENIENT TRUTHINESS about her life as a fan of Colbert and its unintended consequences. I saw it in previews and really enjoyed it. Chris Craddock is here and he's always worth seeing. Paul Hutchison and Sharon Nowlan have teamed up to do CANUCK CABARET which I know will be cheeky, naughty and fun. I'm going to see DESPERATE CHURCH WIVES by Diane Johnston because she's a fine actress and Laura Ann directed.
This year, I'm going to also be random. I'm going to stick my finger in the program and go see something my hand lands on that I know nothing about. I'll go see a show because I like the costume the person is wearing when they flier me (that's how I saw Ryan Paulson the first time) or because we have a nice chat in the beer tent or in a line-up.
Every year, I make a point of seeing someone who is here for the first time from somewhere else in the world. I saw MC JABBER that way a few years ago: he is a wonderful beat poet. I'll go see a clown show - just because I can. I'll go see something at 11:00 pm in the middle of the week because I know that performer will have a small house and will appreciate the business. That's how first encountered Mump and Smoot. I'll go see someone with wildly mixed reviews because I know it will be an interesting, if flawed show.
When performers do the Fringe, they gamble, often with their own money. They enter a lottery and hope and pray to be drawn. I know people who tried for 10 years before they were randomly selected for Toronto. Performers spend years honing their skills and months creating shows they hope will connect with you,the audience.
My ex, the very talented veteran Fringe performer John Huston used to say "without audiences, actors are just lonely people talking to themselves in an empty room."
Why not do the Fringe like a performer? Open your heart and your mind and your wallets and take a gamble this week. Stick your finger in the program. Walk into the next show after the 5 star hit . Go see someone who got no press, who you've never heard of who hands you a flier in a line-up. I've seen some great shows that way and I bet you will too.
Two articles appeared in the Toronto Star this week highlighting some shows their arts writers thought might be worth checking out and giving some guidelines on how to pick the good from the bad in a festival with over 130 plays on offer.
Off the top of the Fringe, I'll see my friends' shows and I'll run in people I know who will flier me for their shows. This is mostly how I will choose shows for the first 5 days.
I am lucky enough to know talented performers here from all over the world. My director, Laura Anne Harris is also no slouch as an actress and is bringing PITCH BLONDE, her 5 star show about Judy Holliday and the McCarthy trials to Toronto. My friend Allan Girod is here all the way from Australia with WHEN HARRY MET HARRY, which was a hit in Ottawa last week and did well in Winnipeg last year. A very funny young lady,Sharilyn Johnson is doing AN INCONVENIENT TRUTHINESS about her life as a fan of Colbert and its unintended consequences. I saw it in previews and really enjoyed it. Chris Craddock is here and he's always worth seeing. Paul Hutchison and Sharon Nowlan have teamed up to do CANUCK CABARET which I know will be cheeky, naughty and fun. I'm going to see DESPERATE CHURCH WIVES by Diane Johnston because she's a fine actress and Laura Ann directed.
This year, I'm going to also be random. I'm going to stick my finger in the program and go see something my hand lands on that I know nothing about. I'll go see a show because I like the costume the person is wearing when they flier me (that's how I saw Ryan Paulson the first time) or because we have a nice chat in the beer tent or in a line-up.
Every year, I make a point of seeing someone who is here for the first time from somewhere else in the world. I saw MC JABBER that way a few years ago: he is a wonderful beat poet. I'll go see a clown show - just because I can. I'll go see something at 11:00 pm in the middle of the week because I know that performer will have a small house and will appreciate the business. That's how first encountered Mump and Smoot. I'll go see someone with wildly mixed reviews because I know it will be an interesting, if flawed show.
When performers do the Fringe, they gamble, often with their own money. They enter a lottery and hope and pray to be drawn. I know people who tried for 10 years before they were randomly selected for Toronto. Performers spend years honing their skills and months creating shows they hope will connect with you,the audience.
My ex, the very talented veteran Fringe performer John Huston used to say "without audiences, actors are just lonely people talking to themselves in an empty room."
Why not do the Fringe like a performer? Open your heart and your mind and your wallets and take a gamble this week. Stick your finger in the program. Walk into the next show after the 5 star hit . Go see someone who got no press, who you've never heard of who hands you a flier in a line-up. I've seen some great shows that way and I bet you will too.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Pirates of the Caribbean - On Stranger Tides
I am the honourary aunt of the delightful Miss Fields: Kimia,10 and Merzhad,12. We spent last afternoon in the land of pirates and mermaids, at the latest installment of the "Pirates of the Caribbean" franchise.
I had only seen "Pirates" I on television some years back. My older nieces love this franchise, and after yesterday's pleasurable outing, I can see why. Johnny Depp as Jack Sparrow is a 21st century swashbuckling hero: a Douglas Fairbanks Jr. to this generation of young ladies.
Jerry Bruckheimer and his cohort have thrown money around here like gold in Ponce de Leone's lost ship. The lavish outlay allows viewers to be treated to fabulous art direction, fantastic duelling sequences and a great international cast of actors, including the likes of Dame Judi Dench (as a grande dame with a great one-liner) and Keith Richards("does this face look like it's seen the Fountain of Youth?"). The first alluring and dangerous mermaid to float siren-like to the surface is none other than Vogue regular Gemma Ward. Classy.
In this chapter, Jack Sparrow escapes the gallows, only to be abducted by a purely evil pirate, Blackbeard (Ian McShane looking like Rasputin)and his lovely and dangerous daughter (Penelope Cruz). Blackbeard, the British Crown, (headed by a hilarious Geoffrey Rush, as a pirate trying to "go straight" and work for the King) and the Spaniards are in a three way race to the legendary Fountain of Youth.
The film churns out action, excitement and witty one-liners. Underpinning all this merry mayhem is a not uninteresting meditation on fate and mortality.
There's a lovely secondary story involving a missionary, Philip(Sam Clafin) and a mermaid (Astrid Berges-Frisbey) about the true nature of faith and love. Some have suggested Philip comes to an unhappy end with his beloved Serena but I believe the Paradise in his heart was his in her arms.
The kids I was with enjoyed this enormously. I think most grown-ups will find more than enough diversion in this well-made entertainment. It's a perfect way to spend a rainy afternoon or better yet,a drive-in night over the school holiday this summer.
The ending suggests Jack will be back for further adventures. I've no doubt the young ladies and I will return to the theatre for more pirate fun.
I had only seen "Pirates" I on television some years back. My older nieces love this franchise, and after yesterday's pleasurable outing, I can see why. Johnny Depp as Jack Sparrow is a 21st century swashbuckling hero: a Douglas Fairbanks Jr. to this generation of young ladies.
Jerry Bruckheimer and his cohort have thrown money around here like gold in Ponce de Leone's lost ship. The lavish outlay allows viewers to be treated to fabulous art direction, fantastic duelling sequences and a great international cast of actors, including the likes of Dame Judi Dench (as a grande dame with a great one-liner) and Keith Richards("does this face look like it's seen the Fountain of Youth?"). The first alluring and dangerous mermaid to float siren-like to the surface is none other than Vogue regular Gemma Ward. Classy.
In this chapter, Jack Sparrow escapes the gallows, only to be abducted by a purely evil pirate, Blackbeard (Ian McShane looking like Rasputin)and his lovely and dangerous daughter (Penelope Cruz). Blackbeard, the British Crown, (headed by a hilarious Geoffrey Rush, as a pirate trying to "go straight" and work for the King) and the Spaniards are in a three way race to the legendary Fountain of Youth.
The film churns out action, excitement and witty one-liners. Underpinning all this merry mayhem is a not uninteresting meditation on fate and mortality.
There's a lovely secondary story involving a missionary, Philip(Sam Clafin) and a mermaid (Astrid Berges-Frisbey) about the true nature of faith and love. Some have suggested Philip comes to an unhappy end with his beloved Serena but I believe the Paradise in his heart was his in her arms.
The kids I was with enjoyed this enormously. I think most grown-ups will find more than enough diversion in this well-made entertainment. It's a perfect way to spend a rainy afternoon or better yet,a drive-in night over the school holiday this summer.
The ending suggests Jack will be back for further adventures. I've no doubt the young ladies and I will return to the theatre for more pirate fun.
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