The naked truth

>> Stockholm(e) starts strong but needs work

by AMY BARRATT

A naked man emerges from behind a scrim and begins to dance. One by one, he pulls down maps--of Africa, of the Caribbean, of Europe, of North America--to form the backdrop for the piece, Stockholm(e). Then he performs an interpretive dance representing each place, to appropriate music (the classic head-banger stuff and bar dancing representing North America gets a big laugh).

By the time this opening sequence ends in blackout and Boogie Marshall (Bryan James) returns to the stage, now wearing white pyjamas, to announce, "This is not a deep show," he's got me in the palm of his hand.

What a shame then that he spends the next I-don't-know-how-long-but-it's-too-long explaining the significance of that opening sequence. It starts out funny but gets annoying because, as the man said, it wasn't that deep. We got it the first time. A further digression about how this Torontonian came to be performing his one-man-show at Black Theatre Workshop in Montreal, and all that wonderful momentum of the beginning has been lost.

Stockholm(e) is made up of reminiscences of growing up a "Club Z Kid." That's Marshall's term for people whose roots don't so much form a line as they zigzag; people for whom the question "Where are you from?" is always problematic. He was born in England, to West Indian parents, and moved to The Big Fridge (Canada) as a teenager. He also confesses that, as a black child in a white society, he only ever wanted to be "normal," which to him meant white.

So, about that title. You've probably guessed that it's a reference to Stockholm Syndrome. If you don't know what Stockholm Syndrome is going in to the theatre, you're lucky. If you do, it'll seem like a pulverized metaphor by about halfway through this play. If Marshall is really committed to it, he should consider spelling it "Stockhomey," because that's how it's meant to be pronounced.

Despite having won a Dora award in 1996, Stockholm(e) is apparently still a work in progress. Stuff is being tried out on the Montreal audience, and that's okay. What's less okay is that the show wasn't ready for opening night. James literally needed to be prompted from the back several times, and the sound and lighting cues were a mess. Those things probably improved over the first weekend, and by now Stockholm(e) is doubtless looking more like a show than a rehearsal.

James is a very likeable performer and a terrific storyteller. When he's on, he can evoke reactions from shock to delight and characters from somebody's Jamaican mother to a dumb-as-dirt British skinhead. Funny.

All roads lead to Derome

It's always risky trying to describe the work of Nathalie Derome, because she never does the same thing twice. Solo theatre, performance art, spoken word, vocal installation; all of these terms come up, but there's really no telling what she'll do next. Her latest show, titled Du temps d'antennes, is described as interdisciplinary, and a "low-tech solo." It's billed as an exploration of the idea of "territory" using the voice, both speaking and singing. Derome once again collaborates with Bernard Grenon, the sound guy who produced her Les 4 ronds sont allumés CD, and Maryse Poulin as répétitrice.

Stockholm(e), through May 6 at the MAI,$10-15. Box Office 932-1104 or 982-3386

Du temps d'antennes, through May 6, excluding Mondays and Tuesdays, at 813 Ontario E (what used to be the Centre d'artistes Copie-Art)