The “wangled teb” of perception in the darkly funny, thoughtful, poignant The Play About the Baby

Judith Cockman, Will King, Nora Smith & Scott McCulloch in The Play About the Baby

If you have no wounds, how can you know you’re alive?

Seven Siblings Theatre opened their production of Edward Albee’s The Play About the Baby, directed by company co-founder Erika Downie, upstairs at The Rhino to a sold out house last night.

The Boy (Will King) and the Girl (Nora Smith) are young, big time in love and just had a baby. Their blissful, sexy times reverie is interrupted by a mysterious Man (Scott McCulloch) and Woman (Judith Cockman), who appear unannounced in their living room. Trickster shenanigans and cryptic pronouncements turn serious when, pressed to reveal what they want, the Man tells the young couple that he and the Woman are there to take the baby.

Solid and genuinely connected work from the cast—no mean feat in a story that travels into Albee bizarro land. King and Smith have great chemistry as the adorably wide-eyed, carefree innocents. For a couple of new parents, the Boy and the Girl are remarkably energetic and horny. King is hilariously randy as the Boy—who seems to have a constant boner, either physically or on the brain—the performance balanced by a child-like vulnerability and need for comfort. Smith’s Girl is sweet and good-natured; extremely patient with the Boy, the Girl manages to divide her time between her two babies, as mother and wife. A good sport but no pushover, the Girl has no trouble setting boundaries with her overly enthusiastic husband.

McCulloch and Cockman are deliciously mischievous as the Man and Woman, the trench coat clad agents of shenanigans—or are they? Cynical and callous, McCulloch’s Man has with a wry-witted, cocky bravado about him; the Man has the heart of a philosopher and likes getting to the point in his own way, even if he must be cruel to be kind. Cockman’s Woman is the perfect ‘good cop’ foil to McCulloch’s Man; a delightful, nice woman who enjoys tripping off into day-dreamy, fanciful recollections, the Woman is a fond memory raconteur—and decidedly gentler on their mission than her partner.

Albee’s bizarre, darkly funny and thought-provoking play goes to the core of identity and perception. As we define ourselves in terms of our roles—gender, age, job, relationship status, parenthood, etc.—memory can be a tricky thing. And ‘reality’ is often a function of need. The nature of the Boy and Girl’s meet cute and subsequent courtship is the stuff of modern-day fairy tale; and are set in interesting contrast and parallel to the Woman’s romantic exploits. And in the second act, varying versions of reality make the Boy and the Girl, and even the audience, question what’s really going on here.

The “wangled teb” of perception and that which makes us stronger in the darkly funny, thoughtful, poignant The Play About the Baby.

The Play About the Baby continues up on the second floor at The Rhino till May 21; for advance tickets, scroll down on the show page to place an order. Advance booking strongly recommended; it’s an intimate space (and you can order a drink downstairs and bring it up with you)—and this is an exciting company to watch out for.

Toronto Fringe: Privacy and identity in the digital age in sharply funny, edgy Cam Baby

cambaby.groupfunny.beaudixonbrandoncoffeychristinehorneashleybottingandrewcameronkarlang - cam babyJessica Moss and Theatre Mischief get into the guilty pleasures and discomfiting side of social media consumption and interaction in Moss’s new play Cam Baby, running now on the Factory Theatre Mainspace for Toronto Fringe. Directed by Charlotte Gowdy, assisted by Taylor Trowbridge, Cam Baby is the 2016 Toronto Fringe New Play Contest winner.

Joseph (Andrew Cameron) and Matabang (Karl Ang) are bros and business partners, running an Airbnb business with a little something extra on the side called Cam Baby, where the guests become the show. Joseph’s conscience gets the better of him when his crush Natalie (Christine Horne) moves in after breaking up with her boyfriend. Meanwhile, guest Clara (Ashley Botting), in town for three months while taking a course, is navigating a burgeoning romance with Tim (Brandon Coffey). Things all go to hell when new guest Ezra (Beau Dixon) outs the Cam Baby operation. Schadenfreude, voyeurism, commodifying other people’s lives – for money or social currency – and issues of identity on and off screen all play prominently, as does the meaning of connection in an age when our devices become an extension of ourselves.

The sharp social commentary, which shifts between hilarious and discomfiting, is delivered with lightning speed by an outstanding cast. Ang is a manic, despicable sleazebag as Matabang; a slick fast talker with an amoral sensibility – as Tim mentions at one point, he is Red Bull personified. Cameron does a great job with Joseph’s inner conflict; the good guy to Matabang’s bad guy, his hands are just as dirty. He wants to come clean, but does he have the balls to walk the talk? Botting does an awesome job with Clara’s see-sawing between self-possession and low self-esteem; articulate and smart, she’s basically a good person, but even she crosses the line at times. Horne is delightfully quirky as the conflicted, self-absorbed Natalie; the “beautiful one” of the female guests, she is happy to consume and use the lives of others, but does little with her own life. Coffey is adorkable as the sweet, sensitive Tim; he is the most genuine of the bunch, but even he’s not entirely innocent, as he gleefully watches videos of people taking a bad tumble. And Dixon brings a lovely, child-like innocence as the lonely, socially awkward Ezra; he’s a troubled guy, but is he dangerous?

In the end, we’re all culpable; judging by appearances and gossiping about others online and in person to gain attention and social standing. And maybe if we stopped being such lookie loos and turned our gaze inward more often, we’d see that we’re all so much more than the sum of our likes and followers, and more than our body shape, job title or hotness rating. Maybe we might get a better idea of who we really are – and who our friends really are.

With shouts to set/costume designer Brandon Kleiman for the trippy, modular set – the apartment spaces delineated in part by a structure of boxes painted with a QR code design, which carries over into the chairs.

Who are we when others are watching? When nobody’s watching? Do we even know? Privacy and identity in the digital age in sharply funny, edgy Cam Baby.

Cam Baby continues at the Factory Theatre Mainspace until July 10; definitely book ahead for this one, folks. For ticket info and advance tickets/passes, check out the Fringe website.

Charmingly funny, moving & thought-provoking insight on identity & culture in Mahmoud

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Tara Grammy in Mahmoud – photo by Nir Bareket

Why Not Theatre’s 2015 edition of the RISER Project continued its programming last night at the Theatre Centre with previews of its two final shows – I saw Mahmoud.

Produced in partnership with Pandemic Theatre, written by Tara Grammy and Tom Arthur Davis, directed by Davis and starring Grammy, Mahmoud is a one-person whirlwind of storytelling – the highs, lows and in-betweens of three seemingly disparate characters that eventually cross paths.

Iranian electrical engineer turned Toronto taxi driver Mahmoud is a congenial host in his cab, keenly interested in people and always up for a conversation, especially when it comes to talking about his homeland. His love for home is palpable – he adores Persian culture and poetry, and misses the food. But it’s been 25 years since he’s been there, and the Iran he longs for no longer exists – and past events, the ones that brought him to Canada, continue to haunt him. Emanuelos is a fabulously flaming gay Spanish perfume salesman with a hot Iranian boyfriend, Behnam, who’s currently back home in Iran on a family matter. It’s a complicated relationship, as Behnam’s family is very traditional – and more conservative than Emanuelos wants to admit. And we see self-described Iranian-Canadian Tara go from an awkward, earnest tween aspiring actress to a driven young woman working to establish a career in the industry.

Identity, and cultural perceptions of women, sexuality and relationships play strongly in Mahmoud – each character is conflicted and layered in such a way that you can never tell the whole story from just looking on the surface. Assumptions and stereotypes are highlighted. Emanuelos’ feelings for Behnam, his own personal Prince of Persia, feed off the sexy and erotic draw of the exotic other. Tara wants to distinguish herself as an actor – and not as a doctor or some other white-collar profession that her parents would like her to be – but also just wants to blend in with her more western-looking peers. Her perceptions of outward beauty – blonde and hairless – are turned upside down when an agent wants to capitalize on her “exotic” natural look. And Mahmoud’s conservative views towards women and relationships may seem at odds with an educated man who has the heart of a poet, but his values ground him and help him to make sense of an otherwise senseless world.

Grammy is a delightful and engaging storyteller, shifting in and out of each character with style and clarity – and, above all, with truth and respect. No one is perfect – and that’s definitely the case with her three characters, which each have a delightful quirkiness of his or her own. And in each character’s individuality, she shows us the commonality – all want to be loved, work, belong and connect.

Mahmoud is a charmingly funny, moving and thought-provoking look at identity and culture.

Mahmoud continues its run at the Theatre Centre Incubator space until May 24. Check out the RISER Project and it’s exciting 2015 program. You can get advance tix online here.

 

 

 

A young woman’s journey of love & healing – Felicia Guy-Lynch’s Time For Healing

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As in her poetry collection Scattered Thoughts: A Stream of Consciousness, Felicia Guy-Lynch offers everyday personal wisdom in her novella Time For Healing. Based on a true story and written in the first person, the book reads like part journal, part internal monologue as the reader follows a young Jamaican-Canadian woman, Lydia, on her search for identity and “innerstanding” (love that word).

A first generation Canadian of Jamaican parents living in Toronto, and leaving a childhood trauma behind in the city as the family moves to the suburbs, Lydia navigates the complex and challenging social scene at school as she and her family – with its shifting structure and personal dynamics – struggle to make ends meet in a rough neighbourhood. But, despite these circumstances, she never gives up pursuing her goals of education, independence and finding love, and of walking the path of openness and transparency – and, ultimately, true strength.

All of this is not done on her own. Lydia actively builds – and processes – relationships with family, both biological and chosen (including friends and lovers), and with God; all play a part in helping her find her genuine self. The storytelling is deeply personal in tone, and while Lydia’s perceptions and experiences as a creative, curious and sexual “melinated” (black) woman striving to keep true to her cultural identity are very specific to this young woman’s world, the universal desire and search for connection and belonging – with other human beings and with a higher power – is strongly evident. Like Guy-Lynch’s poetry, the language in Time For Healing is evocative, true to the mark and even playful, with words like “innerstanding,” “melinated” and “politricks” providing insight into Lydia’s thoughts and character.

Always mindful of keeping an open mind and heart, Lydia reminds us that we must first and foremost be our true selves, and conduct our lives with truth and honesty. And never stop learning.

You can find Time For Healing on amazon.com – with shouts to illustrator Bradley Roy Lindsay and designer Seanre Bennett for their work on the book.

You can also pay Felicia Guy-Lynch a visit at her Twitter and YouTube co-ordinates.