California dreaming

The Montreal Theatre Ensemble doesn’t let the Depression get them down—at least not during rehearsals—in Steinbeck’s Of Mice and Men

WORKING STIFFS: Adam LeBlanc as George
Milton (L) and Peter Vrana as Lennie Small

By NEIL BOYCE

This kind of thing,” says Terry Donald, gesturing around the rehearsal room, “is extremely good for the continued training of young, inspiring actors.” Started by John Abbott College graduates for that very purpose, the Montreal Theatre Ensemble has taken off with the help of a sympathetic theatre department and a bunch of former students and other professionals anxious to promote good work.

A former director of Black Theatre Workshop (and recipient of its Martin Luther King Jr. Achievement Award this year), Donald now teaches theatre at the Sainte-Anne-de-Bellevue college and is developing the company as its artistic director.

Their fourth production, John Steinbeck’s Of Mice and Men, is the unforgettable, cherished tale of two friends, down-and-out “bindle-stiffs” on the road and looking for work in depression-era California.

“There were a lot of young actors expressing interest if we did a project,” says Donald, who directs the piece. “I just told them, ‘If you want to be in it, you’re in it.’”

This year also marks the start of the MTE Stage Two series, a mentor initiative that brings theatre students in on the cast and crew of a professional production for hands-on experience.

Bill Fletcher, who plays the end-of-the-line ranch hand Candy, sets the scene. “Even the smallest part has a lot in it,” he says. “You look at this work and you see what a really, really good writer can do. The words are perfect—not that we can remember them in the right order.”

When asked where they’re at in rehearsals, the director shrugs, “Well, I think we should be able to open around December. No, we’re doing all right.”

There’s a sharp contrast to the relaxed and wisecracking group as they run through a particularly moving scene in rehearsal; everyone snapping into focus, defying the film-making saying that a fun shoot makes a lousy picture.

“Part of the philosophy I always had,” Donald says, “is that an actor is a chameleon, and often young actors don’t get a chance to do parts they don’t ‘look’ like, whatever that means. But you don’t get good stuff when people are cautious—it’s when you try to stretch and push yourself.

“The other thing,” he adds, “is to provide work here. As English-speaking residents of Quebec, I find that we’re very timid, we don’t make much noise. A lot of talent leaves the province, but why not stay? You know, this is our home.”

Rebecca Croll, playing Curly’s Wife, the catalyst for the fateful story, says, “We all had Terry as a teacher at one point or another and we all wanted to work with him again. We started collectively harassing him until he said yes. I think every single one of us feels blessed to be a part of this project.” “I have a lot of people fooled,” Donald replies.

Another teacher in the burgeoning John Abbott theatre department, Andrew Cuk, is directing Quixote, following a well-received workshop, at the Portuguese Association for a two-week run. This approach to Cervantes and his most famous creation combines text with stylized physical movement and masks: a “visually based non-linear theatre.”