Singing Schmuel Songs to Vetoed Productions

The Last Five Years is one of my favourite things ever written for the stage. In it, composer Jason Robert Brown shares a uniquely personal story of the 5 year relationship between him and his wife that ended in broken vows, a broken marriage and broken hearts. Standing in for their real life counterparts are the tangibly real characters of Jamie and Cathy: two of musical theatre's greatest creations in one of musical theatre's most poignant stories.

Cathy tells the story of the couple's five year relationship in reverse, beginning with her heartbreak in "I'm Still Hurting" and culminating in dramatically ironic and torturous hope in "Goodbye Until Tomorrow". Jamie tells the story chronologically from their first meeting, "Shiksa Goddess", to the day he decides on divorce in "I Could Never Rescue You". The audience sees every event in perspective-skewed detail twice: through the eyes of the suddenly successful writer desperate to enjoy his success, and those of the struggling actress who can't seem to catch a break.We see Jamie sweetly support Cathy's dreams and her resent his. We see Cathy put her heart in Jamie's hands and him smash it to pieces. We learn that Jamie "has to be in love with someone" and Cathy just wants to be loved at all. We see him support her until he can't anymore and her try to hold on to him until he won't let her anymore. We see her drive him away and him trample all over the vows they made until there's nothing left but hurt.

There has been great debate among contemporary musical theatre lovers over who is in the wrong in the story of The Last Five Years. One of the most knowledgeable thespians I know is determined that the play is meant to be Jason Robert Brown (aka Jamie)'s apology letter to his ex wife (aka Cathy), an outright admission of guilt and an explanation of his actions. Others believe that there are only so many "Schmuel Song"s one can sing and the play frames Jamie as the hero who tried all he could to rescue a damsel who was incapable of being rescued. But I think the genius of The Last Five Years is that neither is true; Jamie and Cathy are too complicated for black and white assignments of guilt. The Last Five Years shows us a relationship so real that I see people I know in every action or inaction Jamie and Cathy take. These characters are as complicated as the human beings they were inspired by. They both hurt and are hurt, love and are loved; there's nothing simple about it.

And for every complicated character motivation in The Last Five Years there's a brilliantly composed musical number every bit as complicated in itself. From hilarious and intellectual lyrics to the hardest vocals in modern musical theatre, the libretto of The Last Five Years matches every bit of the genius of its story and characters. Absolute instrumental mastery is required to pull off the challenging orchestration and a voice that can tackle the range of one of the two roles is a rare thing. Jamie and Cathy require actors who can make an audience laugh, cry and fall in love within the space of 90 minutes. They have to sell character selfishness and hopelessness, heroics and vanity while abandoning all vanity themselves to come down to the gritty human level of these supremely flawed characters. They have to let the audience hate them and demand that they love them.

A Last Five Years director is starring down the barrel of a gun the minute they decide to produce the play. They have to find actors up to the task then teach them how to do it with poignancy. A music director has to translate Brown's impossible score with precision on all fronts without losing the emotional resonance. A director has to navigate the play's troublesome structure without distracting from its low-frills core. The Last Five Years is simply an impossible undertaking.

So when Vetoed Productions, a new student-founded theatre company in Toronto, announced the undertaking I marked it down in my calendar as an event not to be missed. The emotional maturity and professional technique required for The Last Five Years made it a longshot for a student company success but if anyone could do it it would be Bishop Strachan School girls striking out on their own with the valuable support of their teacher Brandon Allen.

The production was a mixed bag of achievements that was ultimately a surprising success.

Despite some over-directed bits (air quotes, mimed jokes and emphatic hand gestures were a bit too prevalent), the direction was innovative and well thought out. First-time director Emily Kassie navigated the logistically difficult musical with great ease. The set, a large multi-layered round structure resembling a wedding cake, was functional and worked metaphorically with its clock-inspired markings contributing to the looming theme of inevitability in the play. It allowed for interesting movement and levels, played with shadows and encouraged fluid scene transitions. The lighting was simple but well executed and exactly appropriate to the piece (the one weak point being the heavy-handed use of a red gel for "Nobody Needs To Know"). The costumes and props enhanced the piece and characters without being distracting or cumbersome. Blocking generally kept the audience engaged, allowing the songs to tell their own story without over-complication. Some directed character moments were unconventional (and, arguably, detrimental) such as the quieter take on the usually boisterous ending of "I Can Do Better Than That", the early establishment of Jamie's seedy side with an overt sex joke in "Shiksa Goddess" and a sheepish rather than proud approach to "A Part of That". But overall, it was a cleverly directed piece.

The pit band, for the most part, stumbled through Jason Robert Brown's unimaginably difficult score with proficiency. However, the string section seemed lost at times, as if the talented players had underestimated the rehearsals necessary to master Brown's songs. Music director Scott Orr kept his band on track, in time and well balanced while, not perfectly, but competently, tackling the piano part himself. At times the weaknesses in the string section (particularly violin) or a fumbled piano solo detracted from the piece, but the pit has to be commended for managing the insane score at all; there were certainly times when they added brilliant layers to the action (the cello part in "Still Hurting", in particular, was beautiful).

But it was the hearts of the piece, Jamie and Cathy who ultimately determined my opinion of the production.

Julien Cyr, as Jamie, started off really weak. The part seemed out of his vocal and acting range, his performance laboured. As he struggled through Jamie's demanding first 2 songs "Shiksa Goddess" and "Moving Too Fast", he seemed outmatched; some phrases even had to be sung out of octave or speak-sung. However, once he reached Jamie's third number, the all-important "Schmuel Song", Cyr hit his stride. From there he held on and did a decent enough job through to the end, with a couple weak points throughout. Cyr struggled to balance Jamie's sincere sweetness with his darker side, often times missing the mark on both. But when he was on he was on, charming the audience fully with an endearingly goofy and honest "Schmuel Song" and tugging at heartstrings in the mournful "If I Didn't Believe in You" (in my opinion the two linchpin songs of Jamie's character). The production's low point, "Nobody Needs to Know", was a disappointment not entirely Cyr's fault with lights, direction, pit, vocals and acting all under-performing on Jamie's important last plea for understanding. He sounded spectacular on the occasional note that sat right in his comfort zone (the "na na na na"s in "Schmuel Song" and "hold on"s in "Nobody Needs to Know" stuck out as strong) but ultimately proved no match for the role (which, let me emphasize again, is one of the toughest ever written, hardly ever played completely effectively). In general, though he managed alright, Cyr seemed less comfortable in his role than his costar.

On the other end of the spectrum, one of Toronto's best young performers, Kate Ryan, outdid all the high expectations I had for her. Greatly matured since her early days in Toronto Youth Theatre (Lucky Stiff, Robin Hood), Ryan's brilliant voice has only gotten stronger and her acting has improved immensely. She was brilliant throughout the entire piece, belting out notes her small frame would never have suggested she could hit. Her acting and character sense shone right alongside her one-of-a-kind voice as she tackled Cathy's funny numbers ("Summer in Ohio", "I Can Do Better Than That"), tragic songs ("I'm Still Hurting", "See I'm Smiling") and every complex note in between. Heartbreaking acting in the small moments (especially the show-starting "I'm Still Hurting") easily made up for the occasional over-the-top performance (a pitfall of her earlier work). Ryan nailed the all-important "See I'm Smiling" crescendo and landed every note with precision, technique, character and strength, even when her blocking had her sitting and eating chips during one of the toughest songs in the show ("I Can Do Better Than That"). Unafraid of surrendering vain perfection to character poignancy, Ryan’s performance was an achievement character-wise as well as musically, a rarity among vocalists of her caliber.

Ultimately, the challenge of mounting The Last Five Years at all should earn Vetoed Productions (just now completing their first season in existence) some serious theatre cred. The fact that it was as well-executed as it was only serves to warn the Toronto theatre community of what's coming: a tribe of some VERY determined students who show no signs of ever backing down from a challenge.

The Last Five Years' final performances are Saturday May 29th at 2pm and 8pm at The Berkeley Street Upstairs Theatre.

A Different Kind of Theatre

In Defense of Faires as Theatre

or

I just can’t wait for Faire Season
by Jim Melo

For those of us who worship Hugh Laurie for his portrayal of Dr. Gregory House, I’m sure no one even considered for a second missing last week's episode. For those of you who don’t, I’ll explain.

Last week (not this past Monday, but the Monday before. I’ve been swamped with work) Dr. House treated a Renaissance Faire actor for a slew of problems, eventually diagnosing him with Anabolic Steroid use accelerated by being poisoned with Hemlock. When I saw the episode, I couldn't believe it. Two of my great loves, Dr. House (hey, don’t judge) and Ren Faires brought together at last! Then it occurred to me: most people either don’t go to Faires or don’t respect them in the slightest.

Fine, I thought, people just suck. While that’s probably true (people DO suck), there’s also a lot of people who just don’t know what a Faire is all about. In fact, there’s plenty of theater people who don’t even realize that Ren Faires are as much legitimate theater as any production of Shakespeare.

What most people think about Renaissance Faires is that they’re populated entirely by geeks and/or nerds, or people who are just too insane for everyday life and prefer playing dress up. Well, I’m sure that’s true for some people (personally, I’m both a geek AND insane), but most of the actors at Faires are extremely professional performers. In fact, I myself once acted in a Renaissance Faire, The Connecticut Renaissance Faire to be precise. The people that I met doing the Faire were all phenomenally talented actors, many of whom had been or still were active in regular theater productions.

Faires themselves are really just extended runs of shows that happen in various stages throughout the day. The actors rehearse for months, learn blocking, lines, and choreography of all kinds, and by the time the show goes up, it’s a highly polished, professional production. In fact, the only real difference between Ren Faires and regular Theater is the effect that they’re trying to create. In Theater, the effect that is being created is that there is a story unfolding in front of you, and you get to sit and watch it. With Ren Faires, there is a story unfolding around you, and you get to walk through it, look at it from different angles, and be a part of it.

For me, Faire season in the north east is the highlight of my year. My season usually starts in June with the Silver Kingdom Renaissance Festival, has a brief jaunt over to King Richard’s Faire sometime during September, and ends with the Connecticut Renaissance Faire in October. Of course, that season changes all the time depending on whether or not I’m acting in a Faire (I am this year), and the fact that the Connecticut Faire is now holding two festivals, one in the spring and one in autumn (I’m going to both).

I’ve been going to Faires ever since my family took me to one in middle school and said “Jim, I think we found your people.” I usually go with a group of my friends, anywhere between two people and ten, depending on how many we managed to rope into coming with us. Faires are a great way to get out, enjoy the weather on a beautiful day, dress up in funny clothes, and get to be someone that you aren’t for a while. And hell, it’s always great to step outside your comfort zone every once in a while, so why not do it somewhere where not only is it perfectly alright to carry a sword around, but where you feel slightly under-dressed without one?

For more information about the Faires I mentioned above, feel free to check out these links:

Silver Kingdom Renaissance Festival- http://www.kingdomfestival.com/

A Festival running two weeks in the middle of June.

The Connecticut Renaissance Faire- http://ctfaire.com/

A Faire which runs two festivals, one in May and one in October

King Richard’s Faire- http://kingrichardsfaire.net/

A large Faire running August through October

The Fantasy of The Queens

by Tessa Cernik

I must first admit that it took me a few days to gather my thoughts about Alumnae Theatre's production of The Queens by Normand Chaurette, translated by Linda Gaboriau. Upon my return to Toronto after a year of participating in the Halifax theatre scene, I was very excited to get the opportunity to start my summer of great Torontonian theatre with the Alumnae Theatre Company. Yet I was admittedly a bit thrown by their production; which I see now is exactly the intention of this play.

As I walked very speedily (I was running a tad late) towards the theatre (a beautifully converted firehall on Berkeley Street) I was a bit apprehensive: I have never read Richard III (the Shakespeare play The Queens expounds upon) and I am not overly familiar with the War of the Roses of 15th century Britain. I was afraid the play would be lost on me because of my lack of historical knowledge of the period. Yet the production, I quickly learned, is not about history. Yes, all the characters are historical figures and the underlying conflict is accurate, but the play, I found, is much more of a fantastical exploration of the human relationship to power than a historically accurate depiction of events. Mat Howard puts it beautifully in his director's note: "This is not Richard III - the Queens lurk in Shakespeare's margins, but are not the same characters...Just as Shakespeare spun his elaborate fiction from history, Chaurette weaves his play from the threads of story Shakespeare left untended, creating a play that is utterly new and compelling."

And how compelling it was! As the lights dim, the audience is hit with the power and tension of Rick Jones's original score, sung by the three Chorus members (Danielle Capretti, Kat Lai and Kat Letwin), who were accompanied by a synthesized brass quartet. As a person who has studied Medieval and Renaissance music, I was shocked by the dissonance and unsettling feeling the music evoked; quite a departure from the feeling of traditional music of the period. But as the play began, I saw how necessary it was for Jones to compose a score with the same intensity and menace as Chaurette's words. The Chorus sang Jones's intricate and difficult harmonies beautifully, adding an invaluble element to the production. Heather Schibli's costumes coupled with Jen Rovinelli's makeup, hair and millinery design were stunning, which again added to the incredible production value of the show.

However, it was the acting that was most compelling for me as an audience member. As a stage manager, I am well aware of how little recognition the behind-the-scenes crew receives from an audience when compared to the amount of work and dedication they have put into a show. But without a good crew holding the technical aspects of a show together, action on stage cannot be affective for an audience. Thus I commend director Mat Howard, producer/assistant director Catherine Driscoll, assistant producer Christine Leung, stage manager Lynda Yearwood and all other members of the production team for enabling me to become so engrossed by the words and emotions of the actors.

The Queens boasts an impressive ensemble cast, composed of women ranging in age and experience but all brilliantly capable in their ability to present their characters. It was obvious in their on-stage interactions that these women have formed a strong bond as a cast, for which I congratulate them, as the evident respect for each other added a lot to the integrity of the show. The high degree of dimension in each character was also evident, especially in Meghan McNicol's portrayal of Anne Warwick and Janice Tate's Cecily, Duchess of York. Both women had exemplary expression and energy that permeated the audience. I was absolutely stunned by McNicol's beautifully delivered openning monologue, which presented the perfect mixture of young naivete and cruel ambition, as well as set the tone of the play and a high level of expectation for the rest of the performance. Nonnie Griffin delivered well placed comic relief and palpable emotional turmoil as Queen Margaret and Elaine Lindo gained my utmost sympathy for her Queen Elizabeth. Jessica Moss, a fellow King's Theatrical Society member, was both nervous energy and exploding passion as Isabel Warwick and when Patricia Hammond as the mute Anne Dexter spoke for the first time in act two, I was stunned by her ability to convey such raw, true human emotion.

When I left the threatre, I truly did not know if I had liked The Queens. It was not until I sat down to write this article did my feelings come to a head: I loved this play. And the fact that I have been thinking about it for two days straight proves to me that the play itself and the production put on by Alumnae Theatre are both fantastically compelling. Howard writes that "The Queens asks us to suspend our disbelief and trust in the magic of the theatre", and the Alumnae Theatre Company's production helped me to do just that.

Welcome to Stratford

The summer will soon be upon us and that means many things. It's baseball season, Dream in High Park starts (relatively) soon, al fresco dining is back within the realm of possibility. But most important of all, it means the start of a new season at The Stratford Shakespeare Festival, my personal favourite destination for theatre in the whole world. I'm hoping to see every play on their roster this summer and my annual Stratford weekend with fellow My Theatre writer Tessa is already in the works. This year's season is as follows:

The Tempest
As You Like It
The Winter's Tale
Two Gentlemen of Verona
Peter Pan
Dangerous Liaisons
Do Not Go Gentle
King of Thieves
Jaques Brel is a Alive and Well and Living in Paris
For the Pleasure of Seeing Her Again
Kiss Me Kate
and
Evita

Click Here to watch an excellent ad for festival student discounts that shows you everything I love about Ontario. It starts in Toronto and takes you to Stratford where you see the theatre store, balzac's cafe, foster's inn and the famed festival theatre- the greatest place on earth.

Shakespeare is more amazing than you give him credit for

Much Ado About a Midsummer Night’s King Macbeth IV Part 2

or

Remembering William Shakespeare

On this most auspicious of days, April 23- Shakespeare's birthday, I thought that I might take a moment or two to remember one of the greatest men who ever lived.

Shakespeare was, both in my opinion and in the opinion of most of the intelligent people in the world, the most brilliant writer who ever put pen to paper. As a theater buff, actor, and director, I find it almost impossible to find any writer that even comes close to measuring up to the immortal Bard. So, that being said, let’s get on to the actual point of this rant—giving you REASONS that Shakespeare is, in fact, better than you will EVER be.

1. Shakespeare invented words. Lots of them.

You know the term “eyeballs”? Yeah, Shakespeare invented that expression. The verb “to ensnare”? Strait out of Othello. The word “fashionable”? Shakespeare. Yeah, that’s right. Shakespeare either invented or was the first to write down more words than any other author in the history of the English language. By some accounts, he invented more than 1,700 words and phrases. Yeah, this one old English guy made up more words than most high school students are even capable of putting down in an essay (and that’s including repeating “a” as many times as they possibly can).

2. Shakespeare died at the rich old age of 52.

Shakespeare was recorded to have died at the age of 52 (on his birthday, by the way). Generally, it’s accepted that Shakespeare’s theatrical career began sometime in the 1580s, and that it ended around 1613. So he was writing for (quick math here)...about 30 years, give or take. In the course of about 30 years, he churned out 38 plays. For those of us who AREN’T mathematically impaired, that’s more than a play a year, and almost all of them are masterpieces (Comedy of Errors excepted). In the amount of time that it takes some people to pay off their college debt, Shakespeare wrote some of the greatest works ever written.

3. If it’s been done, Shakespeare did it first.

If anything has ever been done by anyone, Shakespeare’s already done it. I DARE you to think of one thing that’s been done by anyone ever that Shakespeare didn’t in some way write about first. For example, let’s pick one of the most (pathetically) modern things I can think of: the “your mom” joke. Surely that’s a modern thing that Shakespeare had never even...oh wait, Titus Andronicus. And I quote:

“Demetrius: Villain, what hast thou done?

Aaron: That which thou canst not undo.

Chiron: Thou hast undone our mother.

Aaron: Villain, I have done thy mother.”

Yeah, that’s right. Shakespeare was making jokes about your mother’s promiscuity before your great great great grandparents were born.

4. Shakespeare died in 1616

1616! As in the early 17^th century. As in 394 years ago. So nearly 400 years after his death, we’re STILL talking about just how awesome Shakespeare was. You know what people are going to probably say about me 400 years after my death? I imagine it going something like this:

“Person 1: So, have you heard of this Jim guy?

Person 2: No, who’s that?

Person 1: No idea. [long pause] What were we talking about again?

Person 3: Hey guys, want to take a day trip to Mars?”

Yeah. No one’ll be talking about how awesome I am 400 years from now, and yet here we are continuing to say how much of a genius Shakespeare was. I mean, the fact that we know his name 400 years later is pretty awesome, considering that there were kind of a lot of people in London in the early 1600s.

5. Dick Jokes.

Jokes about guys named Richard (ala Richard III) and jokes about the male anatomy. And female anatomy. And all things dirty, raunchy, and otherwise inappropriate for discussion in front of your grandmother (in case you couldn’t tell, I like making fun of your ancestors).

Anyway, Shakespeare wrote more dick jokes than possibly any other famous dead white guy. In fact, the entire plot of one of his most well known works, Romeo & Juliet can be boiled down to a series of off-colour jokes about how the two main characters just really want to do each other. Hell, even the priests get in on the fun-- Friar Laurence and Romeo have a great conversation about how the good Friar suspects he spent the night with Rosaline rather than sleeping.

So, let’s go ahead and consider that for a minute. Shakespeare is great. Greater than anyone else who has ever written, and pretty much anyone who will ever write. So, on this most auspicious of days, let us raise our glasses to the immortal bard, and remember him for the incredible plays that continue to be popular even 400 years after his death.

Happy Birthday Shakespeare

Yes, that's right kids, it's April 23. Which means that it's Shakespeare's birthday! It's also Shakespeare's deathday (spooky, I know) but that's depressing, so we're going to focus on the fact that it's his birthday.

In honour of this most prestigious of days, I offer you a list of my 15 favourites from the illustrious 38.

15) Titus Andronicus: my good friends the Calliope Players recently tackled this troublesome piece with dignity and artistry, thus redefining it for me.

14) Othello: though plagued with the least sympathetic hero ever, this story finds redemption in well-played Desdemonas and Emilias and the knowledge that it is "Othello's tragedy, but Iago's play".

13) Henry 4th part 1: prince Hal just might be the most human of all history play characters. I've met many a prince Hal in my time and liked them all. Add a little Hotspur and a lot of Falstaff and you've got yourself a mighty fine play.

12) A Midsummer Night's Dream: the Athenian lovers never fail to entertain and when played correctly the fairy court can be incredibly moving. This play is also open to great artistic interpretation. But that act five, I never quite can get over how stupid it is.

11) Twelfth Night: this beautifully melancholy, outrageously funny piece is weighed down only by the annoying fact of its convenient twin plotline. As the first Shakespeare play I ever studied and the first professional production I ever saw (The Stratford Shakespeare Festival, 2001), Twelfth Night will always hold a special place in my heart.

10) Hamlet: some brilliant themes, complex characters and classic lines make this the most famous thing in the world. A reason to like it I'm sure but also the reason I tend to think it's both brilliant and overrated. Especially hard to play because of the hero's wordiness, Hamlet is a rare Shakespeare that I believe works better on the page than the stage.

9) The Tempest: there's an ethereal magic about The Tempest that draws me in every time. The 2005 production that I saw in Stratford, ON was the great William Hutt's last role, something I will forever be grateful that I witnessed.

8) Much Ado About Nothing: there are few things I love more than banter. I also like smart people, strong people and fiercely loyal people. Much Ado's got all that. A delightful film version with the two actors born to play Beatrice and Benedick (Emma Thompson and Kenneth Branagh) doesn't hurt.

7) Julius Caesar: last season's Stratford production was my first true introduction to this remarkable piece and it is not one I will soon forget.

6) Merchant of Venice: I firmly believe that this is a tragedy not a comedy and that Shakespeare intended it to be so. I firmly believe that if Shylock's forced conversion at the end was intended to be taken lightly, Shakespeare never would have let him speak such humanizing lines as "if you prick us do we not bleed?". The incredible humanity that exists in these characters is unparalleled, it is a rare and remarkable glimpse of characters who live completely in the grey area between hero and villain.

5) Richard III: a favourite of college professors, Richard III exists on my bookshelf in at least 7 different volumes. And each time I study it I'm taken even further aback by its complexity. As a piece of Tudor propoganda, as historical fiction, as a humanizing character study, as a guide to oratory and poetic device, Richard III works.

4) Romeo & Juliet: over-exposure and belittling interpretation has made this play mockable, but in it the unpretentious examiner will find some of the greatest love poetry ever written, characters so unique that actors flock to them even if they only speak 30 lines or appear in the first 2 acts, and a human story of extreme beauty and folly.

3) Macbeth: my love of Macbeth most likely stems from a highschool production, to this day one of the best I've ever been a part of. But the captivating spiral of darkness, the terrifying allure of the main antiheroes and the intense watchability of this piece keeps me on my toes every time I see it.

2) As You Like It: the only Shakespeare with a true heroine at its core, As You Like It is an ode to the non-ingenue young woman. Liberated from the court that ties down so many other Shakespearean characters, those in As You Like It are free to frolic gaily in the woods and fall madly in love at a moment's notice. They banter sweetly, are not punished for pretention or simplicity and live in a world where one can write poetry on trees and break spontaneously into song. Depth and profundity live in a pretty pastoral box that brings the audience happiness against all odds.

1) King Lear: so much to say, so little space. Perhaps one day I will expound upon this, the greatest play I have ever known.

Oh The Thinks You Can Think!

Last weekend BU on Broadway premiered their spring mainstage production: a lighthearted and uplifting musical, a favourite of mine, Seussical. Though plagued with the occasional flaw, the production was for the most part absolutely wonderful and easily one of my favourite things I've seen in my time in Boston.

Seussical itself, written by Ahrens and Flaherty, is a joyful romp of a show that leaves you smiling no matter what. Filled with memorable characters like Horton the Elephant and Gertrude McFuzz, beautiful ballads like "Alone in the Universe" and "Solla Sollew" and wonderfully kitschy dialogue that strictly adheres to Dr. Seuss' famous rhyming couplet format, Seussical is really a wonderful play. Right off the bat with the raucously great opening number "Oh The Thinks You Can Think", Seussical inhabits a colourful world filled with cats in hats, sour kangaroos, trouble-making monkeys and birds of a single feather. The world of Seuss is one where the "smallest of small" and the "largest of all" can be friends and anything can happen if you "just think".

If the play has a problem, it's that it significantly longer than the story can support. Though filled with show-stopping wonderful songs like "Oh The Thinks You Can Think", "It's Possible", "Alone in the Universe", "Notice Me, Horton" and "Solla Sollew", Seussical is polluted by no fewer than 32 other musical numbers. Dull duds like "Circus McGurkus" take up time and barely move the plot forward, basically serving as a platform for some of Seuss' quirky but neglected characters to show make their mark on the play. But ultimately, the adorable wonderfulness of Horton, Gertrude and Jojo's journeys overshadows any tedium and keeps the audience on board the cooky coupleted ride of Seussical the Musical.

BU On Broadway's production perfectly encapsulated what Seussical is all about. As directed by the company's resident ingenue Sarah Jill Bashein (whose recent credits include Belle in Beauty and the Beast, Janet in Rocky Horror and Woman #1 in Songs for a New World), Seussical was appropriately bold and colourful, sweet and poignant, goofy but smart. The Seuss illustration-inspired set allowed for great levels and a good sense of location with trees on wheels to represent the Jungle of Nool and little Who houses to be wheeled in when the action moves to Whoville. The costumes were sweet and representational- no wings, no trunks, but rather animal ears and feathered dresses paired with character movement that struck the delicate balance of a personified animal in child-inspired detail. The audio levels needed a little more refining but the orchestra and vocals, music directed by wunderkind Jonathan Brenner, were standout.

Overall, the story and characters were represented well. The choreography, though simple, was beautiful and the lighting stunning. The blocking was well thought-out and the characters well defined.

The crucial role of Horton was played by the always excellent Matt Lerner, who's beautiful tenor voice was in fine form this week alongside his incomparable charm and emotional commitment. Easily one of my favourite performers of the company, Lerner will be missed once he graduates this spring after a run of leading roles including The Baker in Into the Woods, Jimmy in Reefer Madness, Seymour in Little Shop of Horrors, Brad in Rocky Horror and Man #2 in Songs for a New World.

Also in fine form was relative newcomer Colleen Martorano who brought great energy to the role of Mayzie LaBird. Jessie Kavanagh's Jojo was charming and well executed, while one of OB's newest superstars Stephanie Gray stole most of the Whoville scenes as Mrs. Mayor with her stunning soprano and never-failing animation. The highlight of the stellar chorus was OB Vice President Matt Cobb in typically enthusiastic fashion.

Tavia Merchant's Sour Kangaroo was brash acting-wise but her vocal chops proved enough to temporarily make you forget to keep breathing. Liz Furze, as Gertrude McFuzz, was one of the few castmembers to struggle with her vocals (much of "All for You" was lost to inaudible high notes) but she was so thoroughly charming and sounded so beautiful on the notes that were in her range that she was still a resounding success in the role.

Basically Seussical comes down to the audience. You can be that person, who sits there and laments every simplistic musical theme, cheap pun or missed note. But if you're not, if you're someone who can enjoy the theatre for all its imperfections, Seussical, especially Bashein's BU On Broadway production, can be the happiest show on earth.

*This article has been edited to exclude a mildly negative mention of a performer who wishes to not appear on the website.

"Portrait of a Psychopath"

I have this friend who has played many of Shakespeare's greatest roles, heroes and villains alike. He's tackled Aaron the moor and Richard III, Oberon, Lear and Hamlet among others. But just the other night he said something that struck me as strange, "I've never had any desire to play Mackers". Now, there are jokes to be made here, theme songs to be sung: "call me superstitious or cowardly or meek, but I'll never play a character who's name one dare not speak... I'd be crackers to take on Mackers, you see I'm skittish about the Scottish Tragedy" and Slings and Arrows episodes to be quoted . But it's the very same darkness that Slings and Arrows attributes to Macbeth that intimidated him.

Our beloved television show spends much of season 2 wallowing in the play's darkness. They call it "a portrait of a psychopath", say it's "extraordinarily difficult to stage effectively" and revel in it's infamous curse. They call the character a tyrant, label the play as overly bloody and present the idea that it teaches the audience nothing. When Geoffrey suggests a bit of stage business that would create pathos for the character, identify him as human and vulnerable, he is given seemingly endless grief for it.

But I think Geoffrey's right. I think Macbeth is human and vulnerable. If not deserving of pathos then at least recognizable in his vulnerability to darkness. I think the most powerful Macbeths are good guys, ambitious and flawed but good nonetheless. The play is all the more scary for every bit of themselves an audience member can find in Mackers.

As for the suggestion that Macbeth is a uniquely bloody play, it's really not that accurate. Sure, blood is a recurring allusion, a metaphor for so much that comes back in the text scene after scene. But in terms of body count Macbeth isn't that bloody, or disturbing in terms of what gets done. Let's start with regicide, the atrocious murder at the center of the play: it happens offstage, and there are shockingly few Shakespeare plays in which the king isn't killed. Then there's a pretty standard murder: Banquo, followed by two more shocking ones in the innocent Lady Macduff and her son. Then there's a little off-stage suicide (Lady M), a battle death (Young Siward) and the final triumphant beheading (Macbeth himself). Though atrocious and incredibly meaningful in terms of character development and personal/political ramifications, these deaths lack an element of the grotesque that permeates so much of Shakespeare's work. If Macbeth is "a portrait of a psychopath", how come the raping and maming happens in Titus Andronicus? Richard III threatens one child and kills two more for power. Othello smothers his innocent wife out of blind rage. Lear has eye-gouging! Macbeth is a dark play, full or murder and death, but it's certainly not uniquely so.

Finally, by definition, psychopaths are lacking in remorse and guilt. Macbeth is almost entirely based on remorse and guilt. Even before he panics and gets even more blood on his hands, Macbeth is haunted by the murder he commits. It tears at him, drives him to the brink of sanity and is his eventual downfall. You want to talk psychopath, let's talk Othello's Iago, about whom another friend and I had a long conversation the other day in which we realized that much like the Joker (from Batman), Iago just wants to watch the world burn. He gives ever-changing explanations for his behaviour, unable to land on a single honest and sympathetic motivation for the havoc he wreaks. Or what about Titus Andronicus' Aaron, who repeats over and over that his only regret is not having committed a thousand more crimes. Or King Lear's Edmund, Reagan or Goneril who's crimes are perpetrated against their own fathers, the people who are supposed to love them the most. Of all Shakespeare's villains, I would argue that Macbeth is disturbingly human and scarily relatable instead of psychopathic.

Instead of criticizing it for its darkness, Macbeth should be praised for its affecting intensity. It's terrifying, challenging and emotionally draining. Instead of listening to Oliver and Nahum's assertion that the play is "a portrait of a psychopath", if we're looking to Slings for the key to what Macbeth is all about, I think we should listen to Geoffrey. He said that Macbeth is a man and about the play itself and the process of tackling it, he said "There will be struggle. There will be sacrifice. There will be tears, there will be the occasional fistfight. And in the end, there will be transformation" and that, to me, seems like something worth braving the curse for.

Something You Should Read

 Readers of this blog may notice a pattern. We at My Theatre are very fond of quoting, referencing and generally expressing our love for something called Slings & Arrows. In case this has confused you greatly, I'm here to clear it up. Slings is a Canadian TV show about a Shakespeare company. It's "a comedy about drama" if you will. Starring stage greats Paul Gross, Martha Burns and Stephen Ouimette and based on The Stratford Shakespeare Festival (my personal favourite classical theatre hub worldwide), Slings finds a way to be relevant to almost any Shakespearean discussion that pops up on My Theatre. Luckily for you, My Theatre is part of a larger organization, My Entertainment World, which has a television component far more developed and established than this. My TV is the place to go for the low down on what Slings is all about so Click Here to read and article I wrote on the subject many moons ago (Feb, 08) and read our coming posts with nods of recognition instead of glares of confusion.

The Diary of an On-Stage Rapist

“Oppose not Scythia to Ambitious Rome”

or

How I played Demetrius and Kept My Soul

by James Melo

So, we’re two days into a run of a play that we’ve been working on for the better part of the last five months. Now, that’s a long time, considering that the last play I was in went up in thee months. Anywho, we just put up William Shakespeare’s Titus Andronicus, and I have only three words to describe it.

Holy. Bloody. Hell.

The play itself is a really heavy piece. Add to that the intense staging that our directors came up with and it gets to the point of ridiculous. People break down and cry. And in the middle of it all is something that my character, Demetrius, did.

Demetrius is a rapist.

Not only that, but he’s also a murderer and a mutilator, and a psychopath. He is, pound by pound, the worst character that I have ever played. He is just plain evil. And my god, it was amazing. I’ve never played a character that was so anathema to myself, and I’ve played some strange parts over the years.

So, this was a particularly difficult part for me to play. I mean, I like to think that I’m a pretty good guy, for the most part at least; so playing someone who was so clearly NOT a good guy was a real challenge for me. I’d go so far as to say that the hardest part of acting is two fold. On the one hand, you have to be completely aware that you are not portraying yourself when you step out on stage, because you’re an actor, and that’s what you do. On the other hand, in order to do it well, you have to internalize what your character would be feeling given whatever blocking or lines are happening on stage, and you have to become the character for the two or three hours that you are up on stage. That’s what sets actors apart from other people—anyone can get up on a stage and recite lines, but only an actor can make the audience believe that they are saying those words for the first time, ever. Yes, I did in fact happen to steal that particular bit of wisdom from a TV show, but that doesn’t make it any less true. That was my greatest challenge with the role—coming as close as possible to becoming the character, without crossing the line into being something that I couldn’t stand.

The ability to do that came from this simple fact: Demetrius isn’t actually the bad guy of the play. He isn’t as he seems, just evil to the core, but he becomes what he is because of what he’s had to go through. He was forced to watch as his older brother (or sister, as in our production) was dragged off by Romans to have his (her) limbs hacked off and be set on fire, as a sacrifice for Roman soldiers killed in a war with the Goths. That is what pushes him past the point of no return, and he is aimed toward what he actually does by Aaron, the only character in the play who is truly evil.

Of course, that isn’t even to say that the Goths are ultimately the evil side of the play. The simple fact of the matter is that there are no “good guys” in Titus Andronicus. Even the titular character, Titus, who is cast throughout the play as the long suffering hero of Rome that is beset by enemies, is actually a bad guy. In act 5, scene 2, he has the two sons of his enemy, Tamora (one of which is Demetrius) bound, and he explains to them how he plans to kill them, butcher them, grind their bones to paste, and make two pies out of them which will be fed to their mother as an act of vengeance for what has happened to his family. That is not the act of a good guy. The good guy would simply kill the two brothers in vengeance, rather than effectively torturing. The closest thing that Titus has to a “good guy” is Lavinia, the victim of the rape, but even she isn’t so much a “good guy” as she simply is a “victim”.

So, I guess what I’m saying here is that the way that I managed to play this horrible, terrible human being, and sell the role at all without completely falling apart is that I was able, on some level, to humanize him. In one way or another, all characters are real people, with real reasons for doing what they do, especially in Shakespeare’s works. By finding those reasons, I was able to connect with my character on a personal level, and internalize the terrible things he was doing, because I was able to understand the reasons for his actions.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I played Demetrius, the rapist, and managed to keep my soul intact.

A Theatrical Televisual Moment

It's a rare occurrence when two of my great loves come together: Television and Shakespeare. The best example is the comedy Slings &Arrows, about the antics of a Canadian Shakespeare company. PBS airing Ian McKellan's King Lear as part of their "Great Performances" series and his subsequent Emmy nomination is another wonderful example. When Hey Arnold did Romeo & Juliet, when Mr. Feeney taught Hamlet or when President Bartlett went to see The War of the Roses I was similarly thrilled.

This week's Saturday Night Live monologue by Jude Law played right into my anxiously awaiting hands as he recapped his days on Broadway as Hamlet. In perfectly timed, brilliantly satirical, theatrical in-jokey fashion, Law delivered a hilarious monologue that both showed off his comedic chops and gave the audience a glimpse of his potential in the world's most famous role as he spouted the first few lines of 3.1's "To Be or Not To Be" soliloquy.

See the video above for the full performance. My personal favourite moments included:

 "Hamlet rails against his mother 'frailty thy name is woman' he says, plus many other lines that are less famous and harder to memorize"
and
"I come back onstage and Ophelia's dead, don't know what happened there, I never watched act four"

Remembering the Pride

Last week I saw the touring production of The Lion King at The Boston Opera House. It was okay. I say it was only okay not because it was anything less than a thoroughly enjoyable musical experience but because the piece itself is capable of being so much more. During its extended stay in Toronto a few years back, I saw The Lion King on two different occasions and each time came away with the same feeling of grandeur, spectacle and amazement at what I had just seen. The Lion King, with its innovative (read: genius) artistic design and translation from film to stage and its beautiful musicality, is the type of show that really makes an impression on its audience.

In the sitcom Sports Night, when Dana (Felicity Huffman), a theatre cynic, returns from seeing The Lion King for the first time, she exclaims with amazement "I didn't know we could do that". That's what The Lion King did to me the first times I saw it. I didn't know we could turn human beings into strangely realistic representations of the animal kingdom's most complex beasts like lions, cheetahs, antelope, hyenas, buzzards and baboons. I didn't know we could make Hamlet into a children's movie, not to mention making a children's cartoon into a thought-provoking stage spectacle for all ages. I didn't know some of the most haunting musical theatre ballads ever written could be the work of an aging popstar. I didn't know that we could stage a stampede in a proscenium arch or make a ghost appear reflected in a pool of water or bring a life-sized elephant down the aisle of a theatre. I didn't know we could do that. But The Lion King, as envisioned by the unparalleledly innovative director Julie Taymor, showed me that we could. But it wasn't just that. The Lion King begins with a solo voice as powerful as thunder, Rafiki summoning the animals. Mustafa lives and breathes kinship, standing tall with incredible warmth mixed with power. The beautiful African-influenced choreography is executed with perfect synchronization; each note of the libretto is hit with perfect vocal technique and character detail. The animal realities become incidental as the story of the characters themselves takes centre stage.

But what I saw last week at the Opera House was something different. It was just as beautiful, the colours vibrant, the iconic costumes in tact. The music was all there, as beautifully orchestrated as ever. And the story was the same: all poignance wrapped in rough and tumble fun. But the production lacked the vibrancy of the previous one. The Rafiki understudy was shrill, her notes too big for her voice and her acting simply caricature. Mustafa was short and tough, lacking the natural kingly charisma the role requires; his "lion walk" taking precedence over his integral character and his voice, though strong, lacked the wisdom needed for a convincing "They Live in You". Young Simba lacked grounding, pouncing around the stage on spindly legs. His older counterpart fared better, making a pitch-perfect entrance at the end of Act One as Hakuna Matata sends the audience out to intermission. But he faded as the production wore on, stumbling under the weight of some of his more demanding vocals like "Endless Night". The dancing, though always impressive, lacked verve, as did the animal chorus in general. The hyenas, Zazoo, Timon, Poomba and Scar were all par for the course in generous roles geared for audience appreciation. But overall, the cast lacked the pizazz needed to support such a wonderful story, expert libretto and perfect production design.

The shining light in the cast was Nala, both young and old. The young Nala brought energy and a wonderfully fun sense of false maturity to the first act, dragging a simpering young Simba up with her. Grown Nala's arrival in the second act brought further lovely surprises as she proved to be both the most engaging actor and the most soulful and capable singer of the lot. She masterfully handled the prideful ballad "Shadowland", some of the hardest vocals in the whole production, then went on to highlight audience favourite "Can You Feel The Love Tonight" with strength and energy unparalleled by her costars. She brought up the level of verve on the stage whenever she entered and even reinvigorated her Simba with wonderful stage chemistry.

Overall, the touring production of The Lion King is a weak shadow of what a great company could do with it. But at the end of the day it's still The Lion King. It's still spectacular, awe-inspiring and momentous in itself, regardless of what the company does with it.

Lukewarm Comedy of Obnoxiously Unrealistic Errors

My Theatre is thrilled to introduce its newest author, James Melo. A Shakespeare buff and general theatre-lover, James has a bone to pick with one of the Bard's lesser-known comedies.

“I to the world am like a drop of water

That in the ocean seeks another drop,”

or

Why William Shakespeare’s Comedy of Errors is a Terrible Play

by James Melo

Ok, so let me just go ahead and get this out of the way right at the start. I LOVE William Shakespeare. In my opinion, he is the single greatest author to ever grace the English language, and his equal has never been seen nor will ever be seen. If I had a time machine, I would go back in time, meet him in a pub, strike up a friendship, and see where it went from there.

That being said, Comedy of Errors is just an absolutely horrible play.

I was fortunate enough to see a performance of it by the Connecticut Repertory Theatre Troupe recently, and it was actually pretty good. I say pretty good, and not excellent, because the play itself has so many issues.

First of all, the entire premise is absurd. The whole thing only works if the most unlikely set of circumstances occur. Admittedly, very few of Shakespeare’s works are actually “likely”, but Comedy of Errors pushes it just far enough to make it beyond ridiculous. For those of you who are not familiar with the plot of Comedy of Errors, it boils down to this: there were these two people, a man and a woman, who loved each other very much. They had children, twin boys, and as luck would have it, someone else in their town had twin boys as well, so they bought the other twins to be servants to their twins. Now, this isn’t so absurd just yet. But here’s the kicker: apparently, these wonderful parents couldn’t think of more than two names. So, they called both of their sons Antipholus, and both of the servant twins Dromio. Would those who see the problem with this please raise their hands? No? Still a few who don’t see it? Ok, fine...

As though fate (or a hackneyed plot device) had preordained it, the two sets of twins are separated (along with the mother and father), so each Antipholus gets a Dromio, and they are sent on their merry ways. Years later, one Antipholus (Antipholus of Syracuse) and his Dromio, not knowing that they are actually twins, ends up being mistaken as the other Antipholus (and other Dromio) by everyone that the other set knows, including the other Antipholus’s wife, sister in law, and business acquaintances. The two Antipholi (yeah, I wanted to call them that since the beginning of the article) manage not to meet until the final scene, where everything is explained by their father (who just happens to be the prisoner of the Duke of Syracuse) and their mother (who happens to be a nun in Syracuse who one of the Antipholi sought sanctuary with). And so, everyone lives happily ever after, blah blah blah.

Now, I’m not saying that I didn’t enjoy myself. I’ve never not enjoyed myself at the theatre. This particular play is funny, but only because some of the jokes are clever and the director is given a LOT of leeway by the text for entertaining bits of blocking. In other words, I enjoyed the play not because the play itself was good, but because the director did a great job of bringing the whole thing together.

Even with its absolutely ridiculous premise, Comedy of Errors is actually sort of funny. The problem is, though, that if you strip out the mistaken identity bit, there’s nothing all that funny going on in the text itself.
The play is only funny based on something that makes absolutely no sense, which sort of puts a damper on the play itself being funny. So, I’m going to have to say that although I admittedly enjoyed the staging of it that I saw, it is not even close to making my list of my top 10 favorite plays that William Shakespeare wrote.
And I swear to whatever god you want to make me swear to, if I EVER have twin sons, I’m naming one Bob, and the other Greg.

The Best Wedding in Town

In fact, the best SHOW in town, and perhaps the greatest thing I've seen in quite some time, is called My Mother's Lesbian Jewish Wiccan Wedding. Playing now at the Panasonic Theatre in Toronto, MMLJWW is the latest great product of the Toronto Fringe Festival, the same festival that started The Drowsy Chaperone on its way to success. The funny, charming and moving musical premiered last summer at the Fringe, where it was spotted by theatre poohbah David Mirvish, who quickly brought it to the Panasonic for all to enjoy.

The one act musical, written by David Hein and his wife Irene Carl Sankoff, is the true story of Hein and his mother(s). A remarkable cast, led by Hein himself and the brilliant Lisa Horner as his mother Claire, give great life to the unmistakably beautiful story and catchy libretto. MMLJWW is one of those lovely modern musicals that's both smart and funny, touching yet light, meaningful and thought provoking but never preachy.

Hein serves as the comforting narrator, much like The Drowsy Chaperone's "Man in Chair", but more successfully in my opinion. The audience likes him immediately, from the moment he steps prematurely through the curtain to usher the final latecomers into their seats. He then takes his place on a stool stage left with his band, from where he narrates, sings harmony and plays the guitar while he waits for the point in the story when he can take over from the actor playing "Young David" (Kyle Orzech). David, the character and the actor, in all his "straight, white male"-ness is uncompromisingly ordinary; extroardinary only in the endearingly compassionate way he deals with life changing revelation after life-changing revelation thrown at him by his ever-growing set of parents.

David is joined by an equally charming set of characters, each of whom garners enough pathos to fuel an entire show just on their own. Claire, whom the story is really about, is wonderfully neurotic as she worries about how her choices will affect her son. David's father Garth is no less of a good guy for being the supporting player in a messy divorce story. David's wife Irene (originally played by Irene herself before she moved over to premiere the new role of Michelle, giving the part of Irene to Lori Nancy Kalamanski) also serves as a fun yet grounding force in the story. But the real crux of the piece is Claire's partner Jane (the remarkable Rosemary Doyle). Without the warm and earthy character of Jane, Claire's entire arc would seem random and unlikely. As expertly written by Hein and Sankoff and portrayed by Doyle, Jane becomes someone the audience falls for right alongside Claire, thereby actively involving us in her emotional journey.

Simple direction and a clever sense of self-awareness pairs with the beautiful story and quick wit of the writing to make for an incredibly pleasant evening at the theatre. Canadians will love the many in-jokes about Beaver Tails, Toronto's Don Valley Parkway and Ontario's "wet cold" as well as the eye-opening song "A Short History of Gay Marriage in Canada". You'll sway along, smiling, to "Wiccan 101", fall in love with "You and Me" and laugh until your sides hurt when you hear "Feelings are Important", "You Don't Need a Penis" and "Hot Lesbian Action". You'll fall in love with David, laugh awkwardly alongside a mother-smothered Irene and pine for a love as true as Jane and Claire's.

My Mother's Lesbian Jewish Wiccan Wedding will make you laugh, make you cry and make you sing in celebration when the characters learn of Ontario's decision to "legalize love".

Welcome Theatre Fans

Let me introduce you to "My Theatre" a new theatre blog and the newest addition to "My Entertainment World". Fans of "My TV" will be familiar with the format of this new blog. Here myself and other hand-selected theatre lovers will share our thoughts on the latest in the world of theatre, be that criticism of recent casting news, reviews of current touring productions, theoretical discussions of our favourite plays or praise for a local college production.

We'll cover everything from the Toronto Fringe Festival to Broadway's biggest hits to Boston's Actor's Shakespeare Project and everything in between. You can read about our all-time favourite Eponines, the challenges of translating Hamlet from the page to the stage, our thoughts on what we've seen recently (student, professional and all other types of productions) and even screen adaptations of our favourite shows.

So, welcome all to "My Theatre". Please turn off your cellphones, avoid using flash photography and enjoy the show.

Onward ho!