by AMY BARRATT

Sometimes you need to get back to basics. To step back from the razzle-dazzle of expensive sets and gala openings, and realize that the best theatre can be made by a couple of actors in a black box creating something out of nothing. That’s why last week I schlepped out to Concordia’s Loyola campus to watch a rehearsal.

Renegade Productions’ Lawrence and Holloman opened at Studio 303 last Friday, too late for my deadline. But I’d been hearing about this little company for about a year, was impressed with the way they presented themselves in publicity material, and didn’t want to let another show of theirs go by without some coverage. I contacted Manuel Verreydt and Jory Berger, the two Concordia theatre students who founded Renegade, and asked for a sneak preview, which they graciously provided. (Note: I don’t intend to make a habit of attending rehearsals. Please see end of article for tips on getting coverage for your show).

Lawrence and Holloman is a recent work by B.C. playwright/actor/director Morris Panych (Vigil, 7 Stories). It continues the all-Canadian track record established by Renegade with their inaugural production, George F. Walker’s Criminal Genius, and continued last spring with Daniel MacIvor’s Never Swim Alone. The Walker is probably the most “realist” of the shows so far, but they all have in common that they are character-driven, and excellent showcases for the actor’s art.

Berger and Verreydt play Lawrence and Holloman, respectively, in this production that they’ve also co-directed. Despite the lack of lighting and sound cues in the rehearsal situation, it was a pleasure to watch these two actors portray the evolution of the relationship between two men who work in the same office building.

Berger’s Lawrence is short and compact, dressed in the snappy suit befitting an up-and-coming suit salesman, and strides around with the unquestioning self-confidence of a no-brighter-than-he-needs-to-be born optimist. Verreydt’s Holloman is quieter, darker, tall and stooped in ill-fitting clothes. At the beginning, Lawrence appears to have everything going for him, but over the course of the play he is transformed into a modern-day Job, suffering every affliction and deprivation imaginable. Though he claims not to be a religious man, Lawrence, like Job, refuses to curse his fate, insisting that things could be worse, only to see them get worse in the very next scene. Through it all, the sad-sack Holloman stands at his side. Why?

Find out for yourself this weekend at Studio 303.

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Note to production companies: Deadlines for theatre and other arts columns in this newspaper are a full week before publication. In other words, the copy that you are reading theoretically got to the editor’s desk on Oct. 31. Since most major shows open on Thursday nights, I occassionally file reviews on Friday mornings when necessary. This means that a show must run at least two weekends in order to get a review, and shows that open on Tuesdays and Wednesdays have a better chance of getting reviewed in the next week’s paper. Friday and Saturday night openings are just too late. The deadlines are similar at all of the city’s weeklies.

Also, if you have a show coming up, please send press releases to the Mirror well in advance of opening (say four weeks), and also e-mail me at amytheatre@aol.com. :

Lawrence & Holloman, Nov. 8–10 at Studio 303
(372 Ste-Catherine W., 3rd floor).
Tickets $10–$12. Box office: 285-2702

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