Victoria’s secrets

A (nearly) all-female cast subverts
English history in The Age of Arousal

BEHOLDING THE REMINGTONS:
Clare Coulter and Alison Darcy

By NEIL BOYCE

Apparently, there’s a weird ripple of interest here in subverting stuffy English historical drama. And why not. From the Edwardian sexual games in last week’s Tryst, we move further back, to the Victorian age—where corsets and morals were even looser—with Linda Griffiths’ witty and snappy play, Age of Arousal, underway at Centaur theatre.

It’s 1885, and a curious population imbalance leaves England with half a million more women than men. Mary Barfoot, an ex-militant suffragette, and her lover Rhoda launch a fight for women’s rights in helping her female students master the technology of a male-dominated workplace.

On stage, Clare Coulter, Alison Darcy, Leni Parker, Diana Fajrajsl and Gemma James Smith—a multigenerational all-star team of Montreal actresses—are working through the text-heavy, cue-filled piece.

I’m sprawled across a couple of seats in the larger of the two Centaur theatres, an interloper given a glimpse at the start of a week of rehearsals before opening night.

“It’s the first day on deck,” says director Sarah Garton Stanley, “so we’re feeling our way around.” She runs up on stage then back to the seats for a view of how it’s all looking as she chews gum furiously. Everyone has questions.

“Should I walk this far?” “What if I help push the typewriters out?” “Do we have time for one last run-through before lunch?”

As she retakes a scene, pauses to move a prop, or confers with the half-dozen interested parties looking at her, you begin to see how important the organizational aspect of a director’s job is: it’s how to let everyone working on the project—actor, stage manager, designer, assistant director, publicist—do their thing without it quickly devolving into chaos, and with everyone tugging at your sleeve.

Darcy (Rhoda) walks up to the front and stage-whispers, “Look at this set! It’s pretty, isn’t it?” pointing out the panelled, telescoping walls that recede to glass doors at the back in an imposing monochrome. “Wait until you see the costumes—to die for...”

Having seen these women in a ton of performances—delivering great work for years, even decades—the estrogen-centric story (there’s a lone male actor, Julian Casey) offers a rare chance to see them all interact, and they’re making the most of it.

Coulter and Darcy are at the back of the stage, nodding and gesturing towards an unwieldy trolley stacked with three heavy-looking antique typewriters. They suggest a change in blocking to let the thing roll out neatly in front of them on cue—preferably without toppling over and breaking their legs—in time for Coulter to announce with a flourish, “Behold the Remingtons!”

While Stanley talks over a line of dialogue with Parker, Coulter and Darcy are now at the far edge of the stage throwing punches at one another. It’s not in the play, they’re just fooling around, but it’s still disconcerting to see Coulter, a dignified actress “d’une certaine age,” as she snaps back her head—clapping hands for the sound effect—while Darcy socks her with an enthusiastic right hook.

Soon, it begins once again. Music is cued up, the sound of gunfire is heard, and the trolley emerges, flying across the stage and stopping neatly in front of the actors.

“Behold the Remingtons!”

From my seat, I mouth the words, “Are you having fun?” Darcy looks at me for a moment with incredulity and says, “How could you not?”

THE AGE OF AROUSAL TO APRIL 19 AT
CENTAUR THEATRE (453 ST-FRANÇOISXAVIER).
TICKETS (514) 288-3161