The Real Housewives meets Molière in GBTS’s hilariously delightful The Learned Ladies

Ensemble. Set & costume design by Brandon Kleiman. Lighting design by Siobhan Sleath. Photo by Cylla von Tiedemann.

 

The George Brown Theatre School (GBTS) graduating class opened its 2019-20 season at the Young Centre this week with a hilariously delightful take on Molière’s The Learned Ladies, translated by Richard Wilbur, directed by Sue Miner and choreographed by Bob McCollum. It’s The Real Housewives of Paris meets Molière as the translated text combines with a contemporary backdrop in a razor-sharp send-up of attention-seeking celebrity rich people and the famous poseur artists they fawn over. Plus ça change…

We are introduced to the characters in etalk red carpet style, complete with director (a hyper-efficient, clipboard-bearing Amelia Ryan), and self-involved celebrity hosts Joshua (sunglasses-wearing cock of the walk Jack Copland) and Salique (Siobhan Johnson, with runway model fetching fierceness). The parade of artifice and authenticity gives us a glimpse at the nature of the people we’re about to meet as they walk, stroll and pose across Brandon Kleiman’s colourful pink explosion of a set (think Barbie meets Dr. Seuss).

Left behind the glamourous clamour is the bespectacled, introverted Clitandre (an adorkably sweet turn from Barry McCluskey), trying to catch up with his sweetheart and intended bride Henriette (played with vulnerable resilience and independence by Cait MacMullin). When Henriette meets with her more popular older sister Armande (a hilariously vain and self-absorbed performance from Hannah Forest Briand) in a café, we learn that Clitandre was once smitten with Armande, who has sworn off traditional relationships like marriage in the interests of academic and artistic learning, and rejected his love.

Of course, the young intended couple have barriers to overcome, chiefly Henriette’s overbearing, judgmental mother Philaminte (a domineering Kardashian-esque philosopher turn from Jessica Pellicciotta), who boasts a small army of “learned ladies” in a self-directed academy of their own making: Arganiette (wacky, woo bottle carrying Ilona Gal), expert in Health and Health Trends; Violette (an imperious, verbally agile Renisha Henry), expert in Government and Justice; Dorimene (a fastidious, unforgiving librarian-esqe Amy Leis); and Lucillia (a spacy, star-gazing Lauren Merotto), expert in Stars and Other Worldly. They are joined by Philaminte’s sister-in-law (her husband Chrysale’s sister), self-proclaimed heart-breaker Aunt Belise (played with outrageously funny, delusional panache by Jane Neumier).

On Henriette and Clitandre’s side are her brow-beaten father Chrysale (played with goofy cowardly lion kindness by Kareem Mark Vaude) and his other sister, lawyer Aunt Ariste (Nastasia Pappas-Kemps, with brilliant, level-headed good sense and wide-eyed energy). Rounding out the group are Chrysale and Philaminte’s household servants: Martine the maid (a cheeky, forthright and irreverent Iris Hallman) and Butler Lepine (Ian Williams, with a combination of uptight decorum and the enthusiasm of one who’s swallowed the poseur Kool-Aid).

Philaminte has other plans for Henriette, choosing celebrity boy wonder poet Trissotin (a hysterically classic, physical poseur artist turn from Brian Le) as husband for her youngest daughter. Trissotin has his eye on someone else; and problems of his own, when his talent and reputation are challenged by poetry performance power couple, lovers Vadius (Sansom Marchand, in a proud, haughty cypher turn) and Mademoiselle Fosina (an intimidating, sensual turn from Jacqueline JD Plante). Adding insult to injury, Philaminte gives her blessing when the jealous, attention-seeking Armande decides she wants Clitandre back!

Finally finding the gumption to stand up to his bossy wife, Chrysale hatches a plan with his sister Ariste to make it right for Henriette and Clitandre. And, as this is Molière, things have a way of working out—in some unexpected, surprising and wacky ways.

The Learned Ladies, George Brown
Ensemble. Set & costume design by Brandon Kleiman. Lighting design by Siobhan Sleath. Photo by Cylla von Tiedemann.

The razor-sharp satire pokes great fun at the fond and foolish rich people who become celebrities for no apparent reason other than for their over-the-top antics and ridiculous wealth; and those among the art and media glitterati who achieve fame with their mannequin good looks and artiste du jour popularity. And it rips into those who are slavishly and superficially dedicated to learning, their noses stuck in books and their heads up their asses—intolerant of and excluding those who don’t meet their unforgiving, idiotic standards. Through the red carpet galas; spa days; poetry tableaux; and yoga classes that are part yoga, part Tai Chi, part voguing—we see how artificial and disingenuous these idle rich folk are. Thankfully, authenticity, acceptance and inclusion win the day.

The Learned Ladies continues at the Young Centre until November 16; advance tickets available online or by calling the box office at 416-866-8666 or 1-888-898-1188.

Check out GBTS’s 2019-20 season, and keep up with this year’s graduating class on Facebook.

 

Living with ghosts of crimes past in the haunting, darkly funny, immersive The Good Thief

David Mackett. Photo by Allison Bjerkseth.

 

Fly on the Wall Theatre presents Conor McPherson’s The Good Thief, directed by Rod Ceballos and running at the Dora Keogh Irish Pub (141 Danforth Ave., Toronto, east of Broadview). Featuring an outstanding performance from David Mackett, this haunting, darkly funny, immersive piece of solo storytelling goes to Heaven and Hell and back again before it lands solidly in Purgatory. Part personal anecdote, part confessional, a low-level thief recounts numerous past sins, brief glimpses at redemption and the ghosts that haunt him to this day.

Order a pint, pull up a chair and hear The Narrator (David Mackett), a low-level criminal specializing in thievery and intimidation, tell his tale of life, love, criminal misadventure, narrow misses, crazy good luck and heartbreaking tragedy as a standard scare job goes sideways—and he ends up on the run with the target’s wife and young daughter. Suspecting that he’s been double-crossed by his powerful boss Joe Murphy—now the boyfriend of his ex Greta—and betrayed by his partners in crime, he finds himself being pursued for kidnapping. Trying to keep himself, Mrs. Mitchell and Neve out of harm’s way, he finds sanctuary in the country with the help of his buddy Jeff, the three have a moment of respite. Until all Hell breaks loose again.

good-thief-promo-shot-1_orig
David Mackett. Photo by Allison Bjerkseth.

Mackett gives a compelling, entertaining and poignant performance throughout, playing all the notes between black and white of this deeply flawed, irreverent but sympathetic character. Haunted, torn, conflicted and resourceful, our scrappy thug of a Narrator is a charming rogue of a fellow; recognizing his flaws, he’s candid—sometimes brutally so—circumspect and self-aware. Trying to do the right thing, even as he’s committing a crime, and thwarted by forces beyond his control, he’s faced with the double-sided coin of good luck and bad luck as he savours rare moments of beauty and tranquility, and mourns the senseless moments of violence and loss.

As The Narrator looks back on his life, and his part in these events, he finds he must eventually face up to what he’s done—for better or worse—and find a way to live with the ghosts and regrets, and try to make up for it somehow.  And, to varying degrees, the same could be said of us all.

The Good Thief continues at the Dora Keogh until October 29; advance tickets available online. It’s an intimate venue, so advance booking or early arrival recommended; box office opens a half hour before show time.

Getting real at the movies in the intimate, entertaining, immersive The Flick

Durae McFarlane & Amy Keating. Set & lighting design by Nick Blais. Projection design by Nick Bottomley. Costume & lobby design by Anahita Dehbonehie. Photo by Dahlia Katz.

 

Outside the March and Crow’s Theatre join forces to present Annie Baker’s Pulitzer Prize-winning love letter to the 35mm movie theatre in The Flick, directed by Mitchell Cushman, assisted by Katherine Cullen and Rebecca Ballarin, and running in the Guloien Theatre at Streetcar Crowsnest. Intimate, entertaining and immersive, workplace shenanigans, friendship, loyalty and personal demons emerge in the world of a run-down dive of a neglected movie house and the lives of three people who work there for minimum wage.

When you enter the Guloien Theatre, the audience seating faces rows of empty movie theatre seating, with a raised projection booth up centre. As the lights go down, the projector comes to life in the booth (projection design by Nick Bottomley), accompanied by Richard Feren’s sound design, giving you the full movie theatre experience—from a different perspective from the one we’re used to experiencing—including production company theme music and movie soundtrack snippets that play along with the light show.

2000_TF-Website-ColinDoyle-DuraeMcFarlane
Durae McFarlane & Colin Doyle. Set & lighting design by Nick Blais. Projection design by Nick Bottomley. Costume & lobby design by Anahita Dehbonehie. Photo by Dahlia Katz.

It’s Avery’s (Durae McFarlane) first day on the job at The Flick Cinema, a run-down endangered species of a 35mm movie house in Massachusetts run by absentee owner/manager Steve (who we never meet). Veteran usher Sam (Colin Doyle) shows him the ropes of the walk-through—sweeping up and collecting trash in between screenings (and even waking up the occasional sleeper: Brendan McMurtry-Howlett). Rose the projectionist (Amy Keating) is working up in the booth; and despite Sam’s enthusiastic attempts to catch her attention, she’s not having it.

Avery is a college student, working there as a summer job; and he’s a big-time movie nerd and six degrees of separation savant, as Sam soon learns, much to his amazement. Sam’s broad tastes in movies include more popular, mass appeal films; and Avery is a serious film snob. And while Sam pursues the attentions of Rose, Rose seems to be interested in getting to know the new guy Avery.

As the relationship and workplace dynamics unfold, the three gradually and selectively reveal themselves to each other—and to us. Avery is dealing with some heavy psychological and emotional shit, including family issues. Sam is resentful that younger, less experienced staff are being promoted over him; and he keeps his family life close to the chest. Serial monogamist party girl Rose thinks there’s something wrong with her. And rumour has it that Steve may be selling The Flick; and in an age where 35mm is being replaced with digital, this means it will likely be updated with a digital projector—something that film buff Avery can’t abide. Various levels of privilege are highlighted; while Avery is Black, and having a professor father means a free ride to college, he’s the most likely to get blamed (by their racist boss) for screw-ups at work. Sam and Rose enjoy white privilege, but their familial and financial circumstances mean heavy student debt or no college at all, and a struggle to survive with minimum wage jobs. In the end, friendship and loyalty are put to the test as revelations and consequences emerge.

2000_TF-Website-ColinDoyle-DuraeMcFarlane-AmyKeating
Foreground: Amy Keating. Background: Colin Doyle & Durae McFarlane. Set & lighting design by Nick Blais. Projection design by Nick Bottomley. Costume & lobby design by Anahita Dehbonehie. Photo by Dahlia Katz.

Remarkable work from this outstanding cast, each creating a sharply-drawn, authentic and flawed character that we all end up rooting for; and like in real life, they’re all putting on a show of sorts, wearing the public masks we all don on a daily basis—and occasionally, the masks are lifted and things get real. Doyle is endearing and entertaining as Sam; there’s a combination of grumpy old man and chill young dude that masks Sam’s discouragement at being personally and professionally rejected. He’s in love, but can he bring himself to say so? McFarlane is an adorkable delight as Avery; highly intelligent, socially awkward and longing for a friend, there’s a lost little boy quality about Avery that hints at a deeper internal conflict. Keating brings a lovely combination of fire and vulnerability to the high-octane, free spirit Rose; as much of an extrovert as Avery is an introvert, Rose is a free spirit whose desires are expressed in brief and intense sexual relationships. Even though Rose does what she likes and likes what she does, she wonders about the long term—and if something is really wrong with her.

All the world’s a stage—or in this case, a movie screen—and we’re all merely players. Real life isn’t like it is in the movies, but sometimes we can hit some of those sweet spots. And we all have opportunities to choose to get real and drop the stereotype mask for a moment, or not.

The Flick continues at Streetcar Crowsnest, extended by popular demand to November 2; advance tickets available online. Advance booking recommended; this is a really popular show.

See for yourself in the trailer:

Deconstructing art & friendship in the razor-sharp, scathingly funny Art

Diego Matamoros, Oliver Dennis & Huse Madhavji. Set design by Gillian Gallow. Costume design by Dana Osborne. Lighting design by Bonnie Beecher. Photo by Dahlia Katz.

 

Soulpepper gives us a fly-on-the-wall look at how a debate on the merits of post-modern art turns to an exercise in deconstructing friendship in its razor-sharp, scathingly funny production of Yasmina Reza’s Art, translated by Christopher Hampton and directed by Philip Akin, assisted by Daniel Spragge. The cerebral and emotional responses to a newly acquired painting set off intense and surprising ripples, impacting the relationship of three friends. Art opened to an enthusiastic crowd at the Young Centre last night.

Serge (Diego Matamoros) is very excited and happy about a new painting he’s just purchased and proudly shows it off to his friend Marc (Oliver Dennis), who despite attempts at a tactful response, laughs and proclaims it to be shit. And not only that, Marc is extremely concerned about Serge—for spending a ridiculous amount of money on a painting that he believes to be worthless, and for possibly turning into a poser. Looking for a second opinion on the interaction, Serge and Marc individually approach their friend Yvan (Huse Madhavji), using him as a sounding board as they relate their description of what transpired.

Yvan is more tolerant and accepting of choices and differences, he doesn’t see what the big deal is. Plus, he’s got problems of his own to deal with—namely, the wedding planning hell he’s navigating with his fiancée and their respective parents and step-parents. And when he gets his own unveiling of the piece, he doesn’t like it—but he also doesn’t hate it either—and respects Serge’s choice.

The debate between friends on the merits of the painting and post-modern art in general  turns into a deconstruction of their relationship, whereby barbed quips become savage accusations and revelations. Brutal honesty on steroids unveils hidden jealousies, revulsion—and even a heated battle for dominance in friends’ social and intellectual lives.

Excellent work from this three-hander cast in this hilarious and revealing look at art and friendship. It’s delightful to watch the child-like level of glee and enthusiasm with which Matamoros’s Serge unveils his painting to his friends, navigating sight lines and pondering the canvas, hand on chin; this coupled with the pride of a burgeoning art collector who’s acquired an important work. With the heart of a philosopher and more than a few hints of a status-seeker, Serge is a complex man. Dennis brings an amiable but somewhat aloof air of precision and worldliness to the urbane Marc; a fan of the classics, Marc looks with withering skepticism upon modernity in art and lifestyle—and any whiff of the poseur is met with great derision and suspicion. Marc’s vehement opposition to and concern over Serge’s purchase of the painting is obviously masking something deeper about their relationship. Madhavji is a treat as Yvan, the understanding and open-minded friend in the middle who laughs with, as opposed to at, the situation; the Switzerland of the trio, Yvan often acts as an umpire for his two friends. Accused of being disingenuous, a doormat and a coward, he’s able to see both sides of the argument and feels no need to dominate his relationships—he just wants to be a good friend and husband.

A savage comedy of manners, Art is a compelling exploration of how a response to outside stimuli (in this case, a painting) can trigger a deeper, visceral reaction to those closest to us. Passions flare with biting criticism and conflict, only to be salvaged by good humour, good nature and agreeing to disagree.

Art continues at the Young Centre until September 1; advance tickets available online, or by calling the box office at 416-866-8666 or 1-888-898-1188.

Looking back on an undefinable relationship in the entertaining, touching, resonant A Beautiful View

Alison Brooks & Pip Dwyer. Lighting design by Wes Babcock. Photo by Matthew Eger.

 

Nothing is enough.

Shotgun Juliet opened its production of Daniel MacIvor’s A Beautiful View in the Alumnae Theatre studio last night, presented as a Pride Toronto Community Event. Directed by Matthew Eger, it’s an entertaining, quirky, touching and resonant overview of an undefinable intimate relationship between two women, spanning across time as they come together and move apart.

Set in a place outside of time and space, two women (Alison Brooks and Pip Dwyer) meet to review their life together, presented to us as slice of life scenes and monologues over the course of 75 minutes. The relationship starts with an adorably awkward meet cute outside a tent in a camping goods store. One woman is quirky and fanciful (Dwyer) and the other is practical yet free-spirited (Brooks); there is an immediate connection that feels romantic in that goofy first moments kind of way. A chance meeting leads to an on-purpose meeting, which leads into a relationship that some would call a love affair, BFFs or soulmates—extremely intimate, yet defying labels.

Opposites with much in common, the two women are drawn to each other in a way that even they don’t fully understand; and what they know of relationships and sexuality causes them to make assumptions and draw conclusions about each other and their dynamic over the course of their time together. Intense, hilariously funny and complex, in between reliving key moments from their history together, they stop to take stock of what happened and who said/did what. The storytelling, shifting between otherworldly space and everyday life, is nicely supported by Wes Babcock’s lighting design and Oshan Starreveld’s sound design.

beautiful view 2
Pip Dwyer & Alison Brooks. Lighting design by Wes Babcock. Photo by Matthew Eger.

Brooks and Dwyer have lovely chemistry together as they play out this hilarious, moving and sharply drawn overview of a complex, relationship—shifting between playful, flirty banter and tension filled argument and call-out. Brooks brings a mischievous puck-like playfulness, along with the seasoned, grown-up pragmatism of the neglected childhood her character endured; her character is fluid and easy-going, possibly more introverted and definitely more introspective. Dwyer is delightfully adorkable as the chatty record store/temp worker drummer wannabe; the more out-there extrovert of the two, her character describes her lies as “wishful thinking”—expressions of longing to be something/someone else.

A reminder that people and relationships aren’t always what they seem; and to let people and how they are together just be. Maybe we don’t need to pigeon-hole, label or quantify our relationships on the basis of some romantic love vs. friendship scale. It’s all love and it’s all beautiful. Nothing is enough.

A Beautiful View continues in the Alumnae studio until June 22, with performances Tuesday-Saturday at 8:00; and Saturday and Sunday matinées at 2:00 (final performance is June 22 at 2:00). Tickets: general $25, arts worker $20, PWYC previews and matinée PWYC rush; advance tickets available online. Email shotgunjuliet@gmail.com if you cannot afford to see the show, tickets are available to everyone.

 

Nostalgia meets the ghosts of memory in the funny, poignant, authentically human New Magic Valley Fun Town

Caroline Gillis, Andrew Moodie, Daniel MacIvor & Stephanie MacDonald. Set design by Brian Perchaluk. Costume design by Brenda McLean. Lighting design by Kimberly Purtell. Photo by Cylla von Tiedemann.

 

Prairie Theatre Exchange and Tarragon Theatre join forces to present the Toronto premiere of Daniel MacIvor’s New Magic Valley Fun Town, directed by Richard Rose, assisted by Audrey Dwyer; opening last night in the Tarragon Theatre Mainspace. Equal parts funny and poignant, it’s an authentically human story of nostalgia and ghosts of the past as the kitchen party reunion between two childhood friends reveals some unwelcome memories.

In small-town Nova Scotia, cancer survivor Dougie (Daniel MacIvor) lives in a spotless double-wide trailer, separated from his wife Cheryl (Caroline Gillis), who’s stayed in their family home in town. Their young adult daughter Sandy (Stephanie MacDonald) is on a break from her English lit thesis to manage some mental health issues. Dougie is anxiously awaiting the arrival of Allen (Andrew Moodie), a friend from childhood and one of the few Black residents of the town back in the day, who moved on to become an English professor at U of T.

Dougie and Allen haven’t seen each other for 35 years, and their reunion—initially rife with awkward excitement, vintage music, drinking and dancing—takes a dark turn as painful, secret memories emerge. Dougie is dealing with his sense of mortality and Allen needs to get something off his chest; and lifelong feelings of deep-seated anger, shame and longing bubble to the surface.

Daniel-MacIvor-and-Andrew-Moodie-in-New-Magic-Valley-Fun-Town-photo-by-Cylla-von-Tiedemann-1024x690
Daniel MacIvor & Andrew Moodie. Set design by Brian Perchaluk. Costume design by Brenda McLean. Lighting design by Kimberly Purtell. Photo by Cylla von Tiedemann.

Beautiful performances from this ensemble, enacting a marathon of emotional experience and responses. MacIvor is a compelling, high-energy presence as the tightly wound Dougie; obsessively neat and wanting things to be perfect for Allen, Dougie appears to have channelled his nervous energy into preparations for the visit—but we learn that this behaviour pre-dates his cancer diagnosis, going back to adolescence. Moodie’s calm, introspective Allen is equally gripping; perfectly complementing the frenetic Dougie, the emotionally contained Allen is bursting with the buried feelings of distant, disturbing memories—memories that are excavated and brought to the surface during this fateful visit, and intersect with his experience of being Black in a small town.

Gillis is loveably quirky and as the cheerful, attentive Cheryl; a protective wife and mother who’s at a loss as to how to help her husband and daughter, her positive demeanour masks the pain within, and she finds solace and community in the local Catholic church. MacDonald gives a hilariously playful, irreverent and sweetly poignant performance as Sandy; a post-grad student with the heart of a poet, Sandy is navigating her own illness, even as she continues to reach out to connect with her ailing father.

The classic 70s vintage vibe of Brian Perchaluk’s set design and Don Benedictson’s original music and sound design (those of a certain age were singing along with the pre-show tunes) combine nicely with Brenda McLean’s modern-day costume design, and the realism and cathartic magic of Kim Purtell’s lighting.

Each of these characters is reaching out for connection from a place of profound aloneness. And, while the deeper meaning of the titular amusement park of childhood memory is revealed—not new, magic, a valley, fun or a town—there’s strength and resilience in the present, and hope for the future, as these characters move towards light and closure.

New Magic Valley Fun Town continues in the Tarragon Theatre Mainspace until March 31; get advance tickets online or contact the box office at 416-531-1827.

Absurd, uncomfortable & ultimately human interactions in the darkly funny, unsettling Little Menace: Pinter Plays

Diego Matamoros, Alex McCooeye, Gregory Prest & Maev Beaty. Set & costume design by Shannon Lea Doyle. Lighting design by Simon Rossiter. Photo by Dahlia Katz.

 

Soulpepper opened its darkly funny, unsettling buffet of short Pinter plays at the Young Centre last night with Harold Pinter’s Little Menace: Pinter Plays, directed by Thomas Moschopoulos; and featuring 10 short pieces played out in 14 scenes over the course of 90 minutes. The short, pointed examinations of human interaction are at times absurd, uncomfortable and even surreal—and, in the end, ultimately human.

Little Menace: Pinter Plays features Trouble in the Works, Last to Go, Special Offer, That’s Your Trouble, New World Order, Victoria Station, Apart from That, The Press Conference, The Basement and Night; New World Order appears twice, switching up the actors and the scenario, and Apart from That is played out in four variations, aptly bookending the performance. The impressive four-member ensemble includes Maev Beaty, Diego Matamoros, Alex McCooeye and Gregory Prest.

pinter-2
Alex McCooeye & Gregory Prest. Set & costume design by Shannon Lea Doyle. Lighting design by Simon Rossiter. Photo by Dahlia Katz.

Ranging from the bizarre in the hilarious mundanity of the workplace in Trouble in the Works (played with bang-on dead pan and impressive articulation by Matamoros and Prest) and the unlikely but tempting weirdness of Special Offer (a wry, incredulous Beaty, playing a high-level professional); to the sharply funny failures to communicate in Apart from That (all four actors, in four different pairings of beautifully awkward, polite exchanges where no one really says anything) and the ‘Who’s on First’ vibe between dispatcher and taxi driver in Victoria Station (Matamoros as the gruff dispatcher at his wit’s end and McCooeye as the child-like, simple driver), Little Menace highlights the awkwardness and missed connections in our day-to-day communication.

The discomfiting scenarios of personal and political dominance in The Basement (ensemble), the menace of terrible things to come in New World Order (McCooeye and Prest in a thuggish turn that goes from darkly funny to plain dark when they switch up roles and include Matamoros as a hostage in the second incarnation), and the sharply funny satire of a civil servant working in the culture sector in Press Conference (featuring a chilling matter-of-fact Matamoros as the civil servant) look at the darker sides of human connection. And the lovely nostalgia of Night highlights how even cherished reminiscences between a loving couple (Beaty and Matamoros, in a beautifully quiet, intimate performance) can be mixed up or forgotten altogether.

pinter-1
Diego Matamoros & Maev Beaty. Set & costume design by Shannon Lea Doyle. Lighting design by Simon Rossiter. Photo by Dahlia Katz.

Stellar, compelling performances from the ensemble in this intimate, often raw series of short plays—showcasing the range of the talent on stage in performances of authentic nuance and intense rawness. Nicely supported by the sharply modern, sterile—open concept, yet claustrophobic—set and neutral grayscale of the costumes (both designed by Shannon Lea Doyle); and Simon Rossiter’s shadow-casting, modern aesthetic, sometimes intensely interrogative, lighting design.

What’s real? What’s true? What the hell is going on? Even in the most everyday, mundane situations, we’re a strange lot; and there’s a lot that goes on between the lines and in those awkward silences as we get caught up in our own fears and the various eccentricities of our inner worlds. And that’s a huge part of what makes us human.

Little Menace: Pinter Plays continues at the Young Centre until March 10; advance tickets available online, or by calling the box office at 416-866-8666 or 1-888-898-1188.