Definitely not a musical

>> My Mother's Courage is no movie of the week either

by AMY BARRATT

"It's going to be depressing."

"No, look. It says here, it's a black comedy"

"That means depressing. I only like the light stories. Like the last one we saw?"

"You mean that Lips and Teeth something?"

"No, no. Jerusalem."

"Oh, the musical."

"Yes, I liked that one. I like a musical."

--overheard in line for My Mother's Courage

I worried about these ladies all through the opening night performance of My Mother's Courage. Would they find it depressing? Yes. Upsetting? Definitely. Amusing? Maybe. Would they recognize themselves in the title character? Probably not.

And yet George Tabori's "black comedy" is about a very ordinary 60-year-old lady with good manners, a mended glove and a fondness for plums who gets caught up in the gruesome sweep of history. The unfortunately titled My Mother's Courage (sounds like a movie of the week) is the true story of the playwright's mother's close brush with Auschwitz. That's "true story" in quotes, because Tabori is very aware that in telling his mother's story, he is distorting it.

The form of the play is stylized: a narrator represents the playwright speaking in the present and an actress playing the mother, supported by three actors taking various roles, acts out events in flashback. Theatrical convention allows the mother to talk to the narrator, frequently correcting his version of events.

Tabori's tale takes place on a sunny day in Budapest, in the summer of 1944. Unlike Jews in neighbouring countries, those in Hungary--although forced to wear the yellow star--had been otherwise untouched by Nazism. Thus when Elsa Tabori goes to play cards at her sister's, it never enters her mind that she is in danger of being arrested. That is exactly what happens, however, and she enters the all-too-familiar (to the audience) nightmare of fetid cattle cars bound for what looks like certain death. Yet, she doesn't die. That her survival isn't attributable to bravery or cunning or much more than dumb luck is what makes My Mother's Courage unlike other Holocaust stories we've seen.

The title is an obvious reference to Brecht's Mother Courage and Her Children (Tabori, now in his 80s, also wrote the play Brecht, on Brecht and was one of the first to translate that playwright's work into English). It is also at least partly ironic. Elsa Tabori is not typical heroine material; even her son admits that he always thought of her as sweet, but a bit dim. Where Brecht's Mother Courage is a prototype of a mother's animal fierceness, Tabori's mother is more a prototype of maternal silliness. Elsa is--literally--almost terminally polite. At 60, she still believes that if she is an obedient little girl everything will turn out all right. Nevertheless, when her moment of truth comes, she reaches deep inside herself and finds the strength she needs.

Elizabeth Shepherd is, as expected, wonderful as the mother. However, Jon Michaelson is an unfortunate choice for the son, partly because he is too young. He seems almost young enough to be Elsa's son circa 1944, whereas, to establish the sense of flashback, the narrator should be about the same age as the mother. Worse, Michaelson creates less a character than an attitude. He delivers his lines in the same self-consciously sarcastic drawl, and stands with his feet wide apart and palms out as if he's about to break into song.

Minda Johnson's set design relies on a few pieces that move about and Eric Gingras's lighting helps create ominous effects. Anonymous human-shaped wire outlines and shadow figures backlit onto screens populate the stage in this production, directed by Jennifer H. Capraru. Bruce Davies, Margaret Lamarre and Alon Nashman are all strong in various supporting roles.

Those who like only light comedies and musicals will enjoy some of the minor characters but overall are bound to find My Mother's Courage depressing. Others, like me, may find little to laugh about but a good deal to think about in this unusual and troubling play.

My Mother's Courage continues until May 10 at the Theatre of the Saidye Bronfman Centre for the Arts