Small crime, big action
SideMart Theatrical Grocery brings their top game with Morris Panych’s absurdist black comedy Gordon
by NEIL BOYCE
October 7, 2010
FAMILY DRAMA IN THE HAMMER: Chip Chuipka, Annie Murphy and Graham Cuthbertson in Gordon
Photo by Alexander Ross-Hogg
The new production from SideMart Theatrical Grocery arrives with the air of a big deal about it. The company’s first outing with a Morris Panych play, The Dishwashers, was a modest affair staged in a restaurant kitchen three years ago. Now, they’re the resident company at the Segal Centre, they’re doing the world premiere of Panych’s new work, Gordon— rehearsed with the playwright in attendance—and have opened their season. No pressure, though. The play starts with a crash—a crash with broken glass everywhere, in fact, as the lights come up on a skinny, twitchy little dude having just hurled himself through the kitchen window of a rundown hovel somewhere in the seediest, emptiest nether regions of Hamilton.
Carl (Patrick Costello) opens the door to let in Dierdre (Annie Murphy) and her guy Gordon (Graham Cuthbertson), the mastermind of this tiny gang. Just out of jail, the boys have emerged with new skills and renewed vigour. This time, they’re going to conquer the world. All they need is a base of operations to build their criminal empire, so why not Gord’s childhood home?
Soon, Old Gord (Chip Chuipka) wanders in. He’s holding both sides of a conversation with an invisible friend as he discusses the advantages of moving to Arizona, then searches for a rope with which to hang himself: a series of actions having the look of a well-trodden routine in the average day of this perpetually drunk former steel worker. And though seemingly a simple man, Old Gord’s a wealth of sharp observations and surprisingly literate turns of phrase. Staggering around the kitchen, he sees Dierdre emerge from hiding and greets her appearance like this: “What brings you to these smouldering shores of Acheron?” (which, as fans of Greek mythology in the audience will know, is the “river of woe” flowing through Hades). Then this exchange:
“Are you an angel?”
“I’m from Oshawa.”
“I didn’t know there were any angels in that part of Ontario.”
Panych’s script is a wonderful, absurdist black comedy poking among the entrails of a broken family—their pathetic lives, their grandiose plans.
At one point, thinking he’s killed his father, young Gord’s curled in a ball beneath the kitchen table, going through some “primal emotional issues” worthy of Oedipus, or “Oed-i-fucking-puss,” as he screams to the ever-confused Carl. Meanwhile, Dierdre sings distractedly to herself, so disbelieving of where life has taken her that she seems to look upon it from a distance.
When Old Gord comes to realize that “ours isn’t a family tree, it’s a weed … and we’ve got to pull this fucker up by the roots,” the story is turned up to 11, leaving reality altogether for a giddy, bloody, fantastically crazed finale.
Director Andrew Shaver accelerates the scene transitions, pacing the piece like a runaway train where the increasing absurdity of the play matches the actors’ growing energy. The sharp cast seem drunk on Panych’s great language and tight story, while Shaver directs the mayhem with the confidence and snark of a born wise-ass.
As we wade through the Stygian rivers washing over the rest of the theatre year, SideMart have opened with a crack production that feels like a dare to other Montreal companies. Can anyone else match them? ■
GORDON TO OCT. 16 AT THE STUDIO, SEGAL CENTRE FOR PERFORMING ARTS (5170 CÔTE-STE-CATHERINE). TICKETS AND INFO: (514) 739-7944, SEGALCENTRE.ORG
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