Created and performed by Lisa Gilroy, Mark Little, Natalie Metcalfe, Christian Smith and Kevin Vidal, The Adventures of Tom Shadow takes us on a multi-genre, super fun musical comedy ride—just the thing to relax you after a long, hard day.
Story time turns into a real-life adventure when fiercely determined cop Bev (Metcalfe) and sensitive, nerdish lit professor John’s (Little) kids Martin (Smith) and Angeline (Gilroy) disappear after they’ve been tucked in. What the distraught parents don’t know is the two kids have gone off on a hero’s journey with Tom Shadow (Vidal, think Peter Pan meets Willy Wonka) to his magical kingdom in the clouds.
Things go downhill for Bev and John, as the stress and public’s suspicion over their missing kids takes a toll. John joins a gang of skater kids called the Runaway Boys, led by John’s teen pal (Vidal). And Bev tries to get into the mind of a psychopath in hopes of finding a clue to where her kids are, turning to convicted cannibal/murderer Diane (Gilroy, as a female Hannibal Lector). Meanwhile, the police chief (Smith, of the wicked Jack Nicolson-esqe facial expressions) is tired of being labelled a loser, and assembles an angry mob of jealous neighbours and townspeople to arrest Bev and John!
Combining physical comedy with music and genre-bending themes, the cast kicks it at high speed, rolling out moment after moment of big-time LOLs.
Fairy tale meets crime procedural meets romantic dramedy as music and hilarity ensue in the magical, imaginative The Adventures of Tom Shadow.
The Adventures of Tom Shadow runs in the Factory Theatre Studio till October 22. Get your advance tickets online or by phone at 416.504.9971, or in-person at 125 Bathurst Street (at Adelaide).
Theatre Lab opened its production of Jonny Sun’s Dead End, directed by Michael Orlando, on Thursday night in the Factory Theatre Studio, where I caught it last night, along with a post-show talkback with Sun and Orlando.
Set in an isolated and claustrophobic fourth floor corridor of an abandoned high school during the zombie apocalypse, we’re introduced to the world of Dead End via voice-over (by Ceridwen Kingstone) – and in darkness. A wry, matter-of-fact, school announcement vibe, we’re told we’re lucky to be in the high school, which aside from being run-down and neglected, has largely escaped the ravages of the apocalypse. Unlike the neighbouring middle school, which was not so lucky. But even so, this hallway was once the sad and sorry student path to the math classrooms – and for some of us, that is pretty scary in itself.
Stumbling into this space, two young men (Christian Smith and Chris Wilson) fumble about with flashlights, searching the darkness for possible danger. For a while, they are contented that they are safe and zombie-free. But not for long. They are joined by a lone zombie (Kingstone), which is now blocking their way out. One man (Wilson) has a gun. But it only has one bullet left. Dark hilarity ensues as the two men try to come up with a plan to evade the zombie and get to safety. Oddly, the zombie appears to be disinterested in them.
This three-person cast does a remarkable job within the span of about 65 minutes, where discussion and debate ranges from death, attraction, sexual preference, gender, the five second rule – and, especially, the nature of zombie life. As the man with the gun (the characters have no names here), Wilson is the sharp, cynical dominant of the pair; edgy and quick to jump to conclusions, there’s a soft centre under there somewhere. Smith brings a whimsical, at times goofy, philosophical vibe to man without gun; not wanting to take things at face value always, he’s continually questioning the status quo and what they think they know. And Kingstone’s zombie is a masterpiece of sound and movement; with the character based on movement and groan directions in the script, she’s created a distinct personality – bringing humanity to an otherwise wretched and solitary, perhaps even lonely, creature.
Is a zombie an “it” or does it retain its human gender identification – and if the latter, how would you know? And, of course, you can’t speak of monsters without addressing the nature of humanity. And who is that last bullet for?
The show was followed by a short talkback, where we learned that playwright Sun got into theatre when he discovered he missed it while he was in engineering school; he’d been really involved in high school and got into writing sketch comedy at U of T. Dead End came from an exploration of anxiety and depression – particularly internal anxiety versus external stress – Sun found that comedy was a good way to work through stuff; and the last bullet decision is a metaphor for this exploration. Dead End started as a sketch, and Sun realized that there was more to say, so it went from five pages to the 65-minute one-act script we see today. A question about character names and gender came up; the zombie is played by a female actor, but is referred to as “he” (by man without gun, called No Gun in the script) or “it” (by man with gun, called Gun). The characters were written without names, just descriptions, and with no set gender in mind; gender is pretty much irrelevant. One audience member noted that the dialogue is “sporadic and naturalistic” in rhythm and tone, and wondered how much of the play is improv. The cast is strong with the improv force, so Orlando let them riff around the structure of the script, creating a different dynamic every time, but still hitting all the cues (which was a relief to SM Heather Bellingham, I’m sure).
With shouts to the creative team for their amazingly creepy, eerie atmospheric work on this production: Megan Fraser (SPFX) and Valentina Vatskovskaya (production makeup/hair), Melissa Joakim (lighting), Jason O’Brien (sound), Roselie Williamson (costume) and Louisa Zhu (fight director).
Sympathy for the devil and debate on the nature of humanity in darkly comic, thoughtful Dead End.
Dead End continues in the Factory Theatre Studio space until October 23; advance tix available online. Come on out for some good, creepy pre-Halloween fun with two guys and a zombie.