Fucking Stephen Harper: How
I Sexually Assaulted the 22nd
Prime Minister of Canada and
Where It Got Me
First off, the title doesn’t live up to the hype. Written and acted by Rob Salerno, an erstwhile young journalist for Toronto-based Xtra!, a queer issues weekly, the play is part screed, part reminiscence of his quest to track down and interview the PM during the latest election cycle. Never mind that this Prime Minister barely ever grants interviews, or that he exercises the tightest of muzzles on cabinet members and MPs and that anything he says would be pablum—Salerno, admittedly naively, stalks him at press conferences and photo ops determined to ask the tough, powerful questions. The result is mildly entertaining and generates a few laughs, and Salerno lists with righteous rage the slurs Harper and his cronies have heaped on the queer community over the years. But when it comes, the piece’s money shot isn’t as sexy as advertised. (MainLine Theatre, 3997 St-Laurent)
—PATRICK LEJTENYI
Figure Skating Is for Little Girls
What could be more symbolic of an emasculated man than presenting a slideshow of his figure skating career in a hockey arena on a night when there isn’t any ice?
Liam Dougherty rollerblades across McGill’s thawed McConnell Arena, his voice booming and echoing from the rafters, in a powerplay performance reliving his ill-fated figure skating career. His resulting woe from two decades of masculine misuse is cheerfully interwoven with farcical backstage insights into his various partners’ battles with bulimia and his ever-present dealings with bad tailors and foppish costume design.
Dougherty’s constant rollerblading, however, made me a little anxious and the echo, which couldn’t be helped, eliminated the possibility for subtlety. (McConnell Arena, 3883 University)
—CHRISTOPHER OLSON
Dance Animal
Director/choreographer Robin Henderson and her cast of critters make good on their promise of being the world’s first comedy dance tribe. The high-energy dance performances combine jazz, swing, tap and even some bunny burlesque to create entertaining and captivating routines. The dance pieces are interspersed with witty character-driven monologues, full of Montreal references, detailing how each member came to find their place in the tribe. The polished routines and priceless characters make this show truly a delight to watch as you fight to keep from dancing in your seat. In the words of Dance Gekko, “It’s sex and love rolled into awesome.” (Just for Laughs Studio, 2109 St-Laurent)
—BRITTNEY DRYSDALE
Penumbra
Craigslist brings together three disparate—and desperate—lovers from across the street in a tale of lust triumphing over love, and then feeling icky and returning to whence it came—and sadly couldn’t come.
Paul Van Dyck directs Penumbra, a play by Katherine Dempsey, starring such talented actors as Catherine Bérubé, Michelle Boback, Howard Rosenstein and Christopher Moore, all but one of which take turns simulating sexual arousal in silhouette as well as in a few pared down excursions an inch or two in front of the audience.
Kudos to two MacBooks for the dramatic stage lighting, and to the cast, who make being easy look easy. (MAI 3680 Jeanne-Mance)
—CHRISTOPHER OLSON
Awkward Centaur
While the highly anticipated improv show Awkward Centaur was not the fit of hilarity I had hoped for, its subtle humour was solidly funny in places (there’s nothing better than a centaur running) and they kept the crowd laughing more often than not. The group worked well together and did a good job of weaving along a coherent story, but I felt they didn’t live up to the lofty description of “Calvin and Hobbes after renting Arrested Development.” Bear in mind, however, that each show is completely different, with a new centaur every time, so they have free reign to make everything I’ve just said a complete lie. (Club Lambi, 4465 St-Laurent)
—BRITTNEY DRYSDALE
Dracula in a Time of Climate Change
Pure blood is hard to come by for Dracula these days, especially in Transylvania. But when Dracula samples the blood of a vegetarian Montrealer, he cannot believe what he’s been missing. “I have not tasted this since pre-industrialization,” he said, “it must be because of the vegetables.” With that, Dracula and his henchman head off to La Belle Province, to seek out the purest blood of all, a vegan. The story, however, loses focus when Dracula falls for an eco-activist, who is busy protesting a giant polluting corporation. With references to Wikipedia, Skype and the Twilight series, the play is meant to feel hip, but comes off a bit stale. Dracula, his henchman Renfield and chirpy activist Flow, however, are standouts. (MainLine Theatre, 3997 St-Laurent)
—ADAM AVRASHI
Cabaret l’Amour Fou!
Strung together with high spirits and the loose narrative thread of lovers lost at sea, the show is a jostle of boisterous klezmer and rock, visual art, dance and theatre. Our narrator, a Jack Sparrow with boobs, poses questions like: Will our heroes’ love run out like potable water? Will they get “scurvy of the heart?” Amateurish in a good way, the show’s best feature is its intimate, deconstructed tech; mood is implemented with flashlights, a projector provides shadow-puppetry illustrations. It gets kitschy at moments (what do you expect from a cabaret about pirate love?) but the band’s cover of the Beatles’ “I Want You (She’s So Heavy)” and their synchronized tap dance to “Another One Bites the Dust” alone make the show well worth your while. (Cabaret Juste Pour Rire, 2111 St-Laurent)
—DAVID LEVITZ
Lysistrata
Aristophanes’s classic is tackled with gusto by four British females, who’ve also taken on Oscar Wilde’s The Importance of Being Earnest this year. There’s a bit of boob-fondling and phallus-wearing in this bawdy tale of women withholding sex from their warring men in Ancient Greece, but verbal comedy rules, with rhymes and puns and double entendres that are genuinely clever and funny. Infusions of contemporary humour and a serious anti-war interlude appropriately sweeten and sour the deal, and the performances (particularly by the multitasking Carly Tarett) are exceptional. (Association Portuguaise du Canada, 4170 St-Urbain)
—LORRAINE CARPENTER
The Importance of Being Earnest
One of the classiest shows to appear at the Fringe—with only one chair, four actresses and a flowerpot—Earnest is simply delightful. Jack and Algernon live secret double lives, acting vicariously through their fictitious alter egos who live in London and the country. When it comes time for Jack to marry, he is frantic to discover that his love, Gwendolyn, loves him mostly because of his professed name, Ernest. In fact, Gwendolyn admits the name “induces vibrations” within her, while the name Jack repulses her in its commonness. The swift production of Oscar Wilde’s play is made all the more enjoyable by its cast, with their practically perfect pronunciations and fine-tuned comedic timing. A must see. (MAI, 3680 Jeanne-Mance)
—ADAM AVRASHI
How Does a Drug Deal Become a Decent Third Date?
In this play about the many mishaps of the dating scene, the central character of “Girl” recounts the few highs and many lows of her lovelife with three not-necessarily-eligible bachelors (all played by the versatile Paul Constable) in between hefty monologues which break the fourth wall for a more intimate feeling. How Does a Drug Deal… manages to ably combine most of the things you’d want from a romantic comedy; funny in places, touching in others, bordering on cheesy from time to time, but always in an endearing way. Reminiscent of Bridget Jones’s Diary, this is a great pick for a girls’ night out, with a surprisingly fresh version of happily ever after. (Hour Stage, 4247 St-Dominique)
—BRITTNEY DRYSDALE
Dancing in My Unbirthday Suit
Winners of last year’s Spirit of the Fringe Award, Inertia Productions’ new show is a short and sweet and slapstick dance performance, a half-hour of goofy, cute, flexible gals engaging in childish tantrums, absurd smut and fun with props. Silent, save for a few key tunes, the show is balanced beautifully by the trio of Concordia contemporary dance grads, whose comedic skills and girlish charms match their physical prowess. (Tangente, 840 Cherrier)
—LORRAINE CARPENTER
A Line in the Sand
This collection of three short works by Edmonton choreographer Laurel Roppelt takes an unlikely source for inspiration: her province. With titles like Where the Barley Grows and As the Dust Settles, we get a hint of what’s to come.
For me, the strongest piece was .STBL.SYS. This trio alludes to the “over-sized machinery that work relentlessly and tirelessly in sync and in rhythm to extract the covetted black gold from the tar sands of the Athabasca.” Roppelt does a great job conveying this signature Albertan image. The dancers move mechanically to an electronic score, repeatedly bending forward like stiff woodpeckers, flexed feet and turned-in wrists, movements both sharp and interesting. (Tangente, 840 Cherrier)
—MARITES CARINO
Puck Bunny
Lisa (Joanne Sarazen) used to date Peterborough’s star hockey player but now he’s dating her BFF—or rather ex-BFF—and Lisa has been demoted to Puck Bunny. Packed into the women’s washroom, the minimal audience (we totalled 15) is witness to Lisa’s (one-sided) confrontation with her rival, who’s cowering in a stall while, outside, the Peterborough Petes battle for the Memorial Cup.
Full of teenage insecurities, personal revelations and hockey stats, this one-woman monologue would’ve benefitted from a more contemporary outlook (the character’s reliance on boys felt repetitive and old fashioned; aren’t sisters doing it for themselves?). But Sarazen’s energetic and emotive performance pulls it off. (Bain St-Michel, 5300 St-Dominique)
—SACHA JACKSON
Fringe to the max
A brilliant British ranter, pulling one over
on immigration, SportsSexDeathPorn and
a surreal family drama
PROUDLY PRESENTING HIS FLOPS: Jem Rolls
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by NEIL BOYCE
We’re off to a sleepy start at the Fringe as acts warm up to new venues and opening nights. The common factor: it’d be great to see these shows further along the tour, once they’re polished and shiny. It’s only natural, as Montreal is one of the earliest stops on the North American Fringe circuit and it’s where the kinks get worked out.
For his seventh Fringe, British performance poet Jem Rolls picked out work from each of his previous tours to make the modestly entitled Leastest Flops. Pacing the floor, Rolls spat out “Jems” like I Am Clanger Man, The New English History Syllabus (aka WeWonWeWonWeWon) and We Broke Up Cos the Sex Was Too Good. While years have mellowed Rolls into something shockingly similar to a happy man, they’ve also honed his delivery and between-poem banter. An engaging, nostalgic hour that could easily have run longer. (Hour Stage, 4247 St-Dominique)
Wasted Theatre Education, a well-rounded bunch from NYC’s Tisch School of the Arts, staged SportSexDeathPorn, a half theatre, half dance story centred around the art of the con game: The Inside Man, The Outside Man, The Twist and The Mark are all laid bare. In their first performance in Canada, the company showed flair as they combined theatre-like scenes, monologue, tap, modern dance and sleight-of-hand to quickly establish the mood of their story—really more of an artistic sketch—through word and gesture. (MAI, 3680 Jeanne-Mance)
Susan Jeremy shone under Mary Fulham’s direction in the piece they co-wrote, Brazil Nuts, about a gay New York gal who arranges a sham hetero marriage for her Brazilian lover so they can stay together. To stick it to the Man even more, the dude in question is a gay cowboy go-go dancer (with a “nine-inch johnson”). Jeremy played all parts with gusto—Fabiana, Jackie, Ron, a cat, a vacuum cleaner, even an asthmatic pug. Jeremy’s so comfortable on stage, she’ll take a sloppy sound cue and improv it into the story (“Can we keep the music on longer? I just started dancing!”). Beautiful. (Cabaret Juste Pour Rire, 2111 St-Laurent)
Like a lot of Fringe acts, if Extensive Enterprises had a few more dollars, the show could have been better. Though Cobra: The Musical III: The Return of the King ... of Kings! was a fitting send-off to the evildoers of G.I. Joe world, you can’t have unmiked performers competing with a karaoke soundtrack and expect good results. The show suffered, but not through any fault of choreography, singing or general sleaze—all of which was good. (Just for Laughs Studio, 2109 St-Laurent)
In AfterLife, Candy Simmons’ portrayal of three women in distinct eras is a linked-together, “karma is a bitch” story: there’s an Appalachian black widow who bumps off prospective mates until she finds one who’ll get her pregnant; a too-bubbly ’50s housewife who discovers yoga; and a miserable modern business exec ready to explode. The accents worked and the writing was sharp, but it felt a mite long and laboured. (Espace Berri, 4001 Berri)
Graham Cuthbertson’s Pre/Intervention used a banal family drama as a starting point for his flights of fancy. Actors commented on the play, stepped in and out of character—or left the story altogether—as they looked for a mis sing daughter on moving day in a clever, pointed and surreal story. (Association Portuguaise du Canada, 4170 St-Urbain)
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