Plays with bite

A gothic horror tale, a crazed elevator
ride and a stage classic

DAMNED DAMSEL: Stéphanie Bernard in Dracula

By NEIL BOYCE

Frances Balenzano’s direction of Dracula benefits from the high ceilings and stone walls of the basement Monument National Studio, giving the design team a rich setting on which to go wild in this technically-heavy production—a fun, blood-splattered evening among coffins, garlic and pointy dental work.

Operatic flourishes abound in the Fallen Angel production with dramatic sound cues, long gossamer curtains wrapped around swooning damsels, and characters either storming the stage or being restrained and dragged off.

Paul Van Dyck is a carnivalesque Dracula, wheezing with laughter as the aged Vampire entertains the hapless Harker (Dan Jeannotte) in Transylvania, then dashing about, blood-sated and rejuvenated, in London.

Melissa Paulson is lovely as the flirty and doomed Lucy, the newest recruit in the Count’s vampire harem, while Brad Carmichael plays Dracula’s minion Renfield with an entertaining mix of curious intelligence and fly-eating, bat-shit craziness.

Alison Louder nicely carries the part of Mina—Drac’s love interest—clicking when she speaks of her undead transformation as “an insurrection in my soul,” an emotional counterpart to the cerebral vampire hunter, Van Helsing (Shawn Baichoo).

Balenzano handles the lengthy exposition and multiple settings with dexterity in rapidly switching tableaus on the main stage and balcony, diving into a story that merges historical romance, steampunk medical procedurals, and cautionary Catholic morality play.

The religious elements in the iconic Bram Stoker novel—glossed over in most movie versions—are sharpened in Steven Dietz’s adaptation. Dracula even gets a promise of redemption in the end. Turns out the poor guy was led astray, just like the rest of us sinners.

* * *

Ned Cox’s Hellavator had great buzz: a clever title and a staging inside the freight elevator of an old building on the Main.

The capacity crowd—all 25 of us—lined up in front of the industrial venue for this relationship-gone-sour story with a significant twist. More an extended sketch than a fully realized piece, Ned Cox’s story gives everything to the character of “funny-foreigner” maintenance man José, with great torrents of dialogue for Neil Napier to chew on and sweat over.

Al Goulem directs as Napier pours body and soul into a performance big on sound and fury, and signifying mainly an entertaining display of spittle-flying hellfire damnation, while mismatched couple Wendy and Ted (Alexandria Haber and Michel Perron) look on aghast.

* * *

Having seen newer works from so many great young companies recently, it’s easy to forget how powerful old school, kick-ass theatre can be. Take the transcendent writing in Tennessee Williams’ Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, full of wisdom and deep observation about conflicts in the family dynamic. Employ a cast of mature, experienced actors to take the material to new heights. And most of all, find a director who can juggle the subtleties of Williams’ story—its leaps of action and simmering tensions—and you have heaven on stage.

Standouts in a great cast include Severn Thompson as a heartbreaking Maggie the Cat; Sharon Bakker, a magnificent and tragic Big Mama; and Todd Sandomirsky as the lurching, alcoholic Brick. But striding the show like a colossus is Barry Flatman, outstanding as Big Daddy, the dying plantation owner whom everyone wants a piece of.

Greg Kramer directs the Segal production with great style and confidence—so much are we engrossed in it, the lengthy play passes in a flash. Brilliant.

DRACULA TO NOV. 8, MONUMENT
NATIONAL (1182 ST-LAURENT)
HELLAVATOR, TO NOV. 16, THE OLD
WARSHAW BUILDING
(3861 ST-LAURENT)
CAT ON A HOT TIN ROOF, TO NOV. 16,
SEGAL CENTRE FOR PERFORMING
ARTS AT THE SAIDYE
(5170 CÔTE-STE-CATHERINE)