(no subject)

Jul 26, 2005 13:33

I've been spending a lot of time at this year's Fringe theatre festival and thought I might as well post reviews I've written of some of the shows I've seen:

Call me Kirk: The Star Trek Adventure

"I'm no starship captain..." remarks Michael Schaldemose at the end of this lively one-man show. "...but you can call me Kirk." Shaldemose's over-the-top impersonation of Captain Kirk is excellent, and his transitions between Kirk and every other well-known charater - and some not so well-known - make for a fast-paced and generally engaging show.

There are only two real downsides to this show: A strong familiarity with classic Star Trek is a prerequisite for following the jokes, and those who are familiar with it basically already know what the show is going to be: one guy impersonating every Star Trek character and poking fun at all of show's quirks and cliches.

Girl's Guide

Working as a dominatrix is not necessarily empowering, not often glamorous and not always sexy, discovers Eleanor O'Brien, star of Girl's Guide. It is, however, usually hilarious.

It's not entirely clear if this material is truly based on her real life experiences, but if the truth truly is stranger than fiction, I'll have to assume Girl's Guide is totally fact-based. A one-woman show, Girl's Guide starts off as a monologue, but quickly - and seamlessly - changes gears as O'Brien switches seamlessly from one bizarre character to another.

The only real caveat with this show is just how frank it is. There's enough dirty talk to make the cast of Sex and the City nod in approval, and even a little nudity thrown in for good measure. But the mixture of sex, humour and heart made this show one of the high points of my Fringe experience.

S.M.I.L.E. While You D.I.E.

Call center humour in Winnipeg? That's like shooting fish in a barrel, I mused, before seeing SMILE while you DIE. I honestly didn't see how this premise *couldn't* work, or be anything other than hilarious.

And work it does. And hilarious it is.

Rachelle Fordyce is a deliciously naive, heart-breakingly sweet customer service representative who really just wants to enjoy working at a job where she gets to help people. Until, of course, the heartless mechanisms of working for a big corporation threaten to crush her spirit.

Fordyce wrote and stars in the play, but it's not a one-woman show in the truest sense. Instead, the play is a combination of her performance and various audio and video clips. This combination is effective at both keeping the play interesting to watch, and conveying the often impersonal nature of its theme.

"Write what you know" and "it's funny because it's true" are two popular axioms in comedy, and SMILE While You DIE is the epitome of both. The theatre appeared to be a near sell-out on the night I attended. To say that Fordyce has struck a chord with the "faceless cogs" toiling in the call center-dominated workplaces of our city would be a rather large understatement.

Exiting the theatre, my call center-experienced companion remarked, "that was practically a documentary." Sure, he was joking. But like Fordyce's message in SMILE while you DIE, it was the element of truth that made it hilarious.

An Unfortunate Woman

Haunting beauty, amazing versatility, intriguingly subtle narrative and understated humour made this show one of the most memorable that I've seen at this year's Fringe. The range of facial expressions Nicola Gunn shows off in this one-woman show is enough to make Jim Carrey envious, and when it was over, I could hardly believe I had only been watching one performer for the entire 60 minutes.

"I don't like happy stories," remarks Gunn on her website, and despite the frequent laughter emanating from the audience, the show does have a distinctly melancholy mood. An Unfortunate Woman is actually the tale of several tragic characters whose lives have apparently intertwined in some not-so-obvious ways. The only real downside to this show is it requires a lot of attention to Nicola's mannerism's to follow the story. And if you're the sort of person who gets depressed watching Mr. Bean, you may want to skip this show. On the other hand, if you're in the mood for a truly unforgettable performance that defies description, missing An Unfortunate Woman would be...unfortunate.

Teaching Witchcraft

In this unusual one-man show, Keir Cutler is a 15th century doctor/priest/scientist/inquisitor determined to expose the conspiracy of witchcraft that lies all around us. Cutler's delivery is his strongest suit, remaining absolutely straight-faced throughout his lecture, pointing out how to identify witches, the dangers of witchcraft, and driving home the importance of his work.

Cutler is also capable of improvising during the play; for example, my friend's coughing was pointed out and made into part of the act. We were left wondering what would have happened had we named someone as a witch, as Cutler often urged us to do.

The material is a bit long-winded, and the jokes are a bit too few and too far between, but the funny stuff truly is funny, and Cutler's distinctive and unusual stage presence certainly makes it a worthwhile show.

The Doctor's Duty

The Doctor's Duty is one of the lesser-known plays from well-known Italian playwright Luigi Pirandello. Despite being first performed in 1913, the play's central theme is a timeless one: the difficulty a doctor faces in deciding between what is truly the right thing to do, and the obligations of his profession.

This play is very well cast, and the performances are of high quality. Meghan McNicol plays central character Anna Corsi, forced to deal with both her husband's near-fatal injury and her disapproving mother. I admit to being a fan of McNicol, but her work here is certainly comparable to her best efforts in other plays. Robert MCorrister as Tommaso Corsi did not come across as quite grave enough, given his unusual situation, but his performance is still quite strong overall.

The show is only really lacking in two areas: length, and overall "Fringe-ness". This is a traditional drama, and as such is a bit out of place amongst the quirky one-person shows and oddball comedies that seem to dominate the Fringe. And at only 30 minutes, it's tempting to just skip it in favour of some of the longer shows. Nevertheless if you've a desire to take in one of the few truly fine dramas at the Fringe, do your duty and attend this one.

Over Coffee

Over Coffee is a straightfoward "relationship drama" that suffers from a weak script and some average performances from its cast. Todd Cooney and Katherine Supleve play Jeff, a 32-year old lawyer, and Katy, the young college student/waitress he's having an affair with. Mat Gilroy plays Derek, Katy's best friend since childhood and Michelle Karasinski plays Laura, Jeff's wife. It's a young cast, and Over Coffee feels like the work of a very young playwright (Lisa Nelson both wrote and directed the play). This is largely its undoing.

Gilroy and Supleve appear to be playing themselves (i.e. young university students), and they aren't necessarily bad at that. Cooney as the married lawyer has the most difficult role to pull off, and he can't quite manage it. The dialogue is weak to begin with, but the casual, abrupt delivery of most of it certainly doesn't help it to resonate either. Supposedly Katy and Jeff are a pair who have an obvious and immediate connection between them. That's a reasonable premise, except for the fact that Cooney and Supleve have absolutely zero chemistry to work with. These two really do not look like they could be a couple at all, especially not a couple born out of a passion so intense that Jeff doesn't think twice about cheating on his wife.

The script offers up a few laughs as well, most of which are intentional, but also some that could not possibly have been, given the context in which they appear. The play feels as if it's moving inexorably towards an obvious conclusion, and when it does arrive, it doesn't offer any surprises or insights into the characters or the whole business of cheating. Jeff in particular offers little explanation for his actions: "Hey, I'm a jerk, too bad" basically sums him up. Few people in real life - even lawyers - would hardly be so one-dimensional. Affairs are serious business, both for the married, and unmarried people involved. Over Coffee's treatment of this subject is much too loose and casual for it to really be believable. Playwright Nelson needs to develop a stronger ear for dialogue, and a stronger grasp of character motivations for this to work on any kind of dramatic level. Over Coffee will appeal mainly to a late teens/early twenties audience, and they might enjoy it. Older Fringers should probably pass.
Previous post Next post
Up