Theatre 2024: The Last Piece @ Hart House Theatre

I was initially hesitant about watching a musical about Alzheimer's, which I thought might be too sad and depressing. That it would be presented in “concert” with the cast sitting on stage without any sets, props, costumes, choreography or other stagecraft did not ease my discomfort.  But knowing my love of musicals and desire to watch new ones, my husband Rich convinced me to attend “The Last Piece” at University of Toronto’s Hart House Theatre.  Am I ever glad that he did.  This turned out to be a wonderful experience, made all the more special by knowing that the book, music and lyrics were written by Shreya Jha, a U of T medical student in her final year of medical school.  It is mind-boggling to consider how talented Jha is to excel at both medicine and musical theatre, let alone the time management required to focus on both—no left-brain vs right-brain preference here!

The Last Piece deals with 60-year-old Amara who has been acrimoniously divorced from, and out of contact with, her ex-husband Andrew for over 10 years when she gets summoned to the hospital in her hometown.  Andrew has been admitted and diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Disease and Amara is listed as his emergency contact.  Amara rants to her friends Morgan, Franchine and Shelby about this imposition and all the bad memories of the breakup that Andrew’s resurgence brings up.  Through flashbacks played by a set of younger actors, we see how Amara and Andrew originally met in university and connected over their mutual love of jigsaw puzzles.  The pieces of these puzzles become a metaphor for the couple’s relationship and their different goals and values.  While Amara is careful and methodical, always starting her puzzles at the corners before filling in the middle, Andrew randomly attaches pieces and enjoys being surprised as to the outcome.  Andrew wants to travel the world and experience new adventures, declaring that home is anywhere in the world where they can be together.  Amara wants stability, permanence and the traditional definition of home, which includes a job, house, kids, friends and family.  Despite their love for each other, these fundamental differences result in the constant need for unhappy compromises, and eventually drive them apart.  Now Andrew is back, with his wanderlust and desire for change dampened by his disease and his fading memories taking him more and more to the past.  Amara struggles with whether she should let Andrew back into her life and take on the responsibility of caring for him as his health declines.

The Last Piece is a moving tale of love, loss, memories and family.  The proverbial “last piece” had many meanings in the play, including the physical last piece to complete their jigsaw puzzle, or symbolically to represent the last piece of Andrew’s memory that he struggles to preserve.  The lyrics of one of the songs included the line that “you never know how beautiful a puzzle is until you put in the last piece”. A wonderful 6-person band featuring a violin, cello, guitar, reeds, base and drums sat at the back of the stage behind the actors, providing the score of the musical.  Judging by their ages, they were probably U of T students. They also delightfully serenaded us with jazz classics prior to the start of the show.

The intimate songs and dialogue did not suffer from the lack of sets or movement, but the lack of costumes and the ages of the actors detracted a bit from the storyline.  The older Amara and Andrew were played by actors well short of the sixty-year-old characters they were supposed to portray.  The younger actors fit well when playing 20-year-olds but did not resonate as much when they “aged” three decades up to age 50, all while still dressed in young Andrew’s ripped jeans and young Amara’s school-girl pleated skirt and nylons. Having said that, the acting and vocal singing abilities of the entire cast was very good, especially the powerfully emotional performances by the two Amaras.  The show is only playing for three nights (and one matinee) at Hart House.  I hope that this musical gets a proper staging at some point, perhaps at a future Fringe Festival or even a larger theatre.

Theatre 2024: Rosmersholm @ Crow Theatre

The first play in Crow Theatre’s 2024/25 season is an adapted version of Norwegian playwright Henrik Ibsen’s drama Rosmersholm which deals with guilt and moral responsibility set against the backdrop of a period of global societal change that saw the decline of the aristocracy and rise of the working class.  It has been described as Ibsen’s darkest play so I went in prepared to not enjoy this, since I usually prefer lighter works.  I was pleasantly surprised to find that I was mesmerized and enthralled from the very start.

Written in 1886, which puts the timeframe in between the French Revolution of 1789-99 and the Russian Revolution of 1917-23, the setting of Ibsen’s tale is the manor house of John Rosmer, an aristocratic former clergyman who is the latest in a long line of Rosmers, a well-respected and influential family in the community.  Also living in the house is Rebecca West, a friend and companion of Rosmer’s late wife Beata.  We learn that presumably out of despair due to her inability to bear children and continue the Rosmer line, Beata committed suicide a year ago by throwing herself off a bridge on the property.

Rebecca has remained to console John and it is clear that they have fallen in love and are much more compatible in intellect and viewpoints that John was with Beata.  Rebecca’s passion and ideals about the need for social change and equality amongst the classes have influenced John, leading him to support the Liberal cause in an upcoming election against the Conservatives who want to maintain the status quo. The highly controversial election will determine which party will gain power and impose their vision for the future of the town, and then eventually the country. Beata’s brother Kroll, a fellow aristocrat and current governor of the town, is appalled and outraged at the thought that Rosmer is willing to betray his friends and peers with his new political stance. Kroll blames Rebecca for bewitching Rosmer and insinuates that there was an illicit and immoral affair between them which was the real reason that Beata killed herself.  Rosmer renouncing his religious faith and stepping down as pastor reinforces Kroll’s assertion that John is now a fallen man.  Despite maintaining a platonic relationship, John and Rebecca each feel guilt that their feelings for one another may have led to Beata’s suicide.  Unable to move past the tragedy, they decide on a joint course of action that leads to a shocking conclusion.

British playwright Duncan Macmillian’s adaptation of Rosmersholm premiered in London’s West End in 2019.  Keeping the characters, themes, plotline and timeframe of the original play intact, Macmillian modernizes the language and adds more emphasis to the political aspects of the play, drawing clear references to the political turmoil that we currently face.  This includes highlighting the power of the media in influencing the common man, where dueling newspapers supporting the two opposing ideologies parallel today’s dueling TV news outlets.  When Kroll’s Tribune newspaper publishes a smear campaign against John and Rebecca, the head housekeeper Mrs. Helseth expresses her doubts about their relationship, despite having witnessed no improprieties first-hand.  Because it said so in the newspapers, there had to be some truth to it?!?

To highlight the class distinction between the upper and lower classes, the multiple servants who wait on John, Rebecca and Kroll as they dine, and who help John dress, are silent and have no speaking lines in the play.  This intentionally and effectively illustrated the “voiceless majority” of the working class.  It was interesting that the actors playing the servants were mostly the ones that attended the post-show talk-back so we finally were able to hear them speak.  They explained how their silent actions of servitude throughout the play helped to visually emphasize the plight of the lower class.

Plays at Crow theatre directed by head artistic director Chris Abraham always have innovative and impressive staging.  Rosmersholm is set in the round, and painted portraits of past generations of Rosmer men line all four walls, each lit by a simulated oil lamp.  These faces stare down at the action, adding to the pressure felt by John and probably Beata to carry on the family name and traditions.  The final climatic scene is a staging triumph. Not wanting to spoil the ending, I can merely say that while Ibsen’s play originally used dialogue to explain what happened, the version of the play at Crow Theatre made it clear by the mere use of sound effects, lighting and water, resulting in a much more powerful conclusion.  

TIFF 2024 - Nutcrackers, Better Man, The Friend

It has been several years since my husband and I seriously attended the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF).  Prior to retiring in 2012, we would buy a few movies to watch on the weekends, and we once took vacation during TIFF so that we could watch movies for an entire week.  After retiring and having more time, we really got into the festival experience, watching 25-30+ movies in the 10-day span. At the peak, I once watched 44 movies, with a few days where I saw 5 in a row, trying to catch a cat nap in between by snagging a comfy chair in the upper floors of the TIFF (formerly Bell) Lightbox.

Starting in 2020, COVID and other factors put a stop to our annual TIFF attendance.  Once we got out of the habit of going each year, we found that we didn’t miss it.  September is a lovely time of year to be outside and not stuck in a dark movie theatre. We have since switched our patronage and moved our entertainment dollar more towards live theatre. The festival scene was fun while it lasted, but I don’t think I would have the stamina and attention span anymore to watch as many movies in such quick succession.  This year, we got a brief reminder of the whole TIFF experience when we were gifted tickets to some movies for the final weekend of the festival.

Since our last major TIFF attendance back in 2019, the ticketing process has changed and you are now assigned seats when you purchase your movie tickets. The advantage of that is that you no longer have to stand in line for long periods of time, waiting for the theatre to open in order to claim an acceptable seat (which for me is at the back of the theatre since I am far-sighted).  The bad news is that you are limited as to what seats you can select and may be assigned seats in undesirable locations.  Luckily none of the seats that we were given were within the first few rows of the theatre which would have been much too close for me.

We ended up watching three enjoyable movies starting around 1pm, then 5pm and finally 9pm which allowed us to have a late lunch/early dinner after the first movie and a snack after the second one.  The first two movies were fairly derivative, following well-tread plotlines but each with a twist that made it a bit more memorable.  The third movie was our favourite because it felt fresh and original, which is a rare achievement these days.

Our first movie was Nutcrackers, starring Ben Stiller in the stereotypical role of the high-powered urban businessman pulled out of his natural habitat when his estranged sister and brother-in-law die in a car accident, leaving behind four unruly orphaned boys (aged 8-13) who live on a working farm which is overrun by animals.  Following all the standard fish-out-of-water tropes, Stiller’s character Michael is put through the ringer as he is tested by the boys until slowly, they learn to care for him and he for them.  Much of the movie deals with Michael and the local child services representative Gretchen urgently trying to locate a suitable foster home for the boys that would keep them together.  It is not much of a spoiler to say that by the end of the movie, Michael’s eyes are opened (metaphorically and literally!) and he realizes that the perfect home for them is with him.

Despite hitting all the expected, clichéd notes in this age-old plot, Nutcrackers wins you over due to the winsome, charismatic performances by the first-time-acting children and a surprisingly nuanced one from Stiller who reins in his usual neurotic, high-strung acting style.  As Michael gets to know them, he realizes that underneath their rough-and-tumble façades can be found sensitive, imaginative and intelligent boys.

The plot twist and reason for the title of the movie comes from the fact that Michael’s sister was a talented ballerina who ran a ballet school and taught her boys to dance.  The older boys Justice and Junior are quite accomplished. To attract prospective foster parents, Michael convinces the children to mount a performance of The Nutcracker’s Moustache, which is Junior’s adaptation of the classical ballet but featuring a sword fight between a Samurai and Rambo, played by the younger twins Simon and Samuel.  Justice’s crush and fellow ballet student Lily plays Clara.  

A more significant twist came during the opening credits, which revealed that the children were played by actual siblings, the Janson brothers.  We left this feel-good, tug-at-your-heartstrings movie wondering how the casting director found the perfect family for the roles of the children.  It turns out that the reverse happened.  The director David Gordon Green was a film school classmate with the Janson brothers’ mother Karen and visited them often at their working farm.  Charmed by the children, Green developed the script for the movie for them, filmed at their farm incorporating all of their animals including pigs, chickens, dogs and guinea pig, and included the ballet plotline because the boys were all trained ballet dancers. The revised Nutcracker’s Moustache ballet featured input from middle child Ulysses Janson.  This great back story gave a tired plot a new life.

The next movie was Better Man, a biopic following the trajectory of (self-proclaimed?) international singing superstar Robbie Williams from his childhood growing up in Stoke-on-Trent, England, to his stint between 1990-1995 with the British boy band Take That, to his solo career leading up to current day.  In terms of story, Better Man hits many of the usual themes or plot points that come with biographies of celebrities in general and rock stars in particular.   We have the precocious talent and drive for fame, the daddy issues that come with a neglectful, absentee father, the initial big break followed by insecurities, self doubt and depression that lead to alcohol and drug abuse, the fall from grace, hitting rock bottom, then finally overcoming adversity and rising up again to become the current day success.  At a high level, this could be the life story or trajectory of a number of different artists.

Given that Robbie Williams found most of his success in UK and Europe and that we are not familiar with his songs either from Take That or as a solo artist, this movie would have been mostly forgettable were it not for the major twist, or should I say gimmick?  Throughout the entire movie starting from when he was a child, Robbie is depicted as a monkey through the use of motion capture technology and CGI.  When Robbie becomes an adult, the monkey is endowed with Williams’ own expressive eyes overlaying the eyes of the actor Jonno Davies, who performs the physical movements while Williams provides the speaking and singing voices.  The inspiration for this interpretation comes from a comment that Robbie made where he said he always feels like a performing monkey when on stage.

It is debatable whether this artistic choice helps or hinders the movie.  In retrospect, I think it does a bit of both. It is jarring and even distracting seeing Robbie the monkey interacting and carrying on conversations with the people around him, and especially in several nude scenes where the hairy simian is seen in full glory without the shield of human clothing.  Where the gimmick does work is during the musical numbers and his on-stage performances.  In particular, when Robbie looks out at the audience while performing, he sees hostile, angry apes glaring at him and judging him.  This becomes the perfect visual manifestation of his own insecurities and self-loathing.   The lyrics of many of William’s songs address themes of personal struggle, feelings of shame and inadequacy.  In the case of Better Man, the song which the movie is named after, he voices his desire for redemption as he sings: "As my soul heals the shame, I will grow through this pain, Lord, I'm doing all I can, To be a better man".

The other choice that made watching Better Man more palatable for me was that the first half was staged as a musical with characters singing soulful tunes to voice their feelings, and massive choreographed dance numbers that harkened back to the golden age of movie musicals.  In one scene where Williams first meets and falls in love with Nicole Appleton from the group All Saints, their spectacular dance across the bow of a ship channels the spirits of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers.  I am a sucker for musicals, even when performed by a monkey, so that won me over for a while before the second half of the movie turned into a straight melodrama.

Whether portraying Robbie Williams as a monkey turns out to be a good idea or not remains to be seen. It is clear that even the director is not sure, since he felt the need to start the screening of Better Man with a brief preamble interview between him and Williams where they explain the reason behind the concept.  Without this, you would have spent the entire movie thinking, "What’s going on?!?!?" One thing is for sure, good or bad, the choice makes this film memorable.

The final movie that we watched was titled The Friend, starring Naomi Watts, Bill Murray, and Bing, an enormous Great Dane who really should get top billing and possibly an Oscar nomination for his most expressive, soulful performance.  Iris (Watts) and Walter (Murray) are fellow writers and longtime friends with a complicated history.  The movie starts off at a dinner party where Walter describes being out for a run when he comes across an abandoned Great Dane that he keeps and names Apollo. By the next scene, we find out that Walter has committed suicide and left instructions that Apollo should be taken in by Iris, much to her surprise.  Unfortunately, Iris lives in a rent-controlled midtown apartment building that does not allow dogs and faces being evicted for keeping one, even temporarily, while she searches for a new home for him. The parallels between this movie and Nutcrackers are interesting as they both involve protagonists who unexpectedly have unwanted responsibilities thrust upon them.  But where Nutcrackers felt formulaic, The Friend does not, in no small part because of the gigantic, majestic dog.

The Friend is a slow-paced, subtle, dialog-driven movie about love, friendship, and grief, as felt by Iris and also by Apollo who vocally mourns the loss of his master, and finally acceptance.  As Iris struggles to befriend and console Apollo, she slowly comes to realize that he provides her with consolation and companionship in return.  At some point, you wonder who the title “The Friend” actually refers to, since it might be Apollo who is featured in much more of the movie than Walter is.  “But what to do about the dog?” becomes an overlying question throughout the movie.  Even when Iris realizes that she may want to keep Apollo, she cannot risk losing the only apartment in the neighbourhood that she can afford.

While dealing with her own grief and even anger at Walter’s actions, Iris must also grapple with Walter’s wives (referred to as wife #1, wife #2 and the current wife #3), his recently discovered adult daughter, the completion of Walter’s memoir which Iris was helping with, and her writer’s block in completing her own novel.  It slowly comes out that Walter seduced many of his female students including Iris while he was teaching and probably got “Me-too’ed”, possibly leading to his depression.  As this is revealed, some of the earlier seemingly innocuous conversations start to take on new meanings.  Despite the movie’s serious themes, there are some light moments including a voice-over memory of Walter dryly commenting “The more suicidal people there are, the less suicidal people there are …”.  I’m ashamed to admit that I laughed out loud at this morbid but ironically funny observation.

The cinematography of The Friend is a love letter to Manhattan as it lingers on street signs such as 8th Avenue and Washington Place and provides sweeping views of Washington Square, Central Park, Chelsea and other prominent areas.  The film is based on a short novel of the same name by Sigrid Nunez, which won the 2018 National Book Award for Fiction.  I have it on hold from the library but was able to read a short sample of the first few pages.  So far, it is told in short snippets of thoughts and memories by Iris as she processes Walter’s passing, some of which have become Iris’ voiceovers in the movie.  The writing style is invigorating and addictive and I look forward to reading the rest.  In the meantime, I’m happy that I watched this movie.

In addition to being a world-class film festival, TIFF is trying to position itself as the marketplace that brings together the creatives and the moneymen to facilitate major movie deals.  It is interesting to note that at the start of the festival, only Better Man had a distribution deal while Nutcrackers and The Friend had not yet secured one.  Maybe the monkey was a good idea after all?

Theatre 2024: Life of Pi @ Mirvish

My husband Rich and I were first exposed to the stage version of Yann Matel’s critically acclaimed and award-winning novel “Life of Pi” when we watched a filmed version of London’s West End National Theatre performance, screened at Cineplex Theatres in April 2023.  With its innovative staging that incorporated stunning video effects to simulate rainstorms, waves in the ocean, schools of fish and more, as well as amazingly skillful use of puppetry to represent animals at the Zoo and on Pi’s lifeboat, this was one of the best examples of theatre stagecraft that we had ever seen. You can read my extensive about my review of the West End production of this play, including a synopsis of the plot, at the link below.

https://torontohappenings.blogspot.com/2023/04/theatre-2023-life-of-pi-national.html

A touring road show from London has now hit Toronto and is part of our 2024/25 Mirvish subscription series.  We loved the play so much when we watched the filmed version that we would probably would have wanted to watch it again regardless.  But given that it was part of our subscription series, this became a no-brainer.  I won’t repeat my thoughts about the original show here but will compare and contrast the two productions.

As always, seeing a show for the second time will never be the same as the first time that you experience it, and a touring show usually must make some compromises in terms of staging.  So, we were interested in how we would feel revisiting Life of Pi while also comparing attending a live performance versus watching one on screen.  Because we knew what to expect, we upgraded our tickets to the first row in the Mezzanine to get the best view.  The special effects projected onto the stage floor made it imperative that we be able to look down on the action from above.  But we also wanted to be close enough to see the intricate movements and “reactions” from the various animals and the tiger Richard Parker in particular.

Since it was designed by the same creative team, the Mirvish production matched the West End one in terms of spectacular lighting effects and masterful puppetry and animatronics.  The use of video and a few prop changes magically transform the setting from an austere hospital room in Mexico, to a zoo and a bustling market in India, to a cargo ship in a fierce storm and finally to the open waters of the ocean where Pi is shipwrecked on a lifeboat.  But the team had to work within the limitations of the CAA Ed Mirvish Theatre as opposed to the Wyndham Theatre in London, England.  At Wyndham, Pi’s lifeboat rises out of the stage floor and Pi falls into the “ocean” by going right through the stage with only his head sticking out.  This was not possible to reproduce in Toronto, so Pi’s boat is split vertically into two halves that emerge from either side of the stage, and the scene where Pi falls into the water is sadly eliminated.  In the West End version, that was one of the highlights of the stagecraft.

Another seemingly major difference between the two versions of the play was in the gender casting of some major roles.  At our performance, Piscine Molitor Patel (Pi) was female (played by a spunky Riya Rajeev), as was the representative of Japanese Ministry of transport Mrs.Okamoto, who was sent to interview Pi and find out why the ship sank.  And even the Bengal tiger “Richard Parker” was referenced as female.  This seemed to be a triumph for gender equality in casting and did not affect the plot at all.  What I realized when reviewing the programme after the show was that we had the “alternate” Pi for our performance.  In the regular performances, Pi was male (played by Divesh Subaskaran) while Riya played his sister Rani.  At our show, Pi’s sibling was a brother named Ravi.  Because of the strenuous demands of the role involving jumping around in the lifeboat and battling giant-sized puppets, it seems clear why there is a need for two actors to play Pi.  However, the gender switch is surprising since it called for subtle changes in the dialog anytime anyone referred to Pi in the third person.  You would think the chance of a mix-up would be high!  Based on the programme, it seems that the role of Okamoto remains female for all performances but I wonder whether Richard Parker changes genders to match the actor playing Pi?

Another interesting detail that I learned from reviewing the programme was the multiple teams of puppeteers assigned to play Richard Parker.  At any one time, there are three puppeteers manipulating the tiger’s various parts—one for the hind legs, one for the core or heart and one for the head.  The movements and expressions of the tiger are so realistic that you forget about the humans controlling the puppet despite their being in plain sight and concentrate only on the ferocious beast.  I did notice the two rear puppeteers during the final bows and felt sorry for them since they had to be hunched over for much of the time that they were on stage.

Because of the acoustics in the Ed Mirvish Theatre and the heavy accents of the actors, I found it sometimes difficult to hear all of the dialogue, especially when Pi was shouting or speaking very rapidly.  But having read the novel and watched the previous West End performance, I was very familiar with the plot so this did not detract much from my enjoyment of the play.  Even watching it for the second time and knowing what to expect, I found the show to be just as enthralling. Those who go watch it for the first time will be blown away.  This was an extremely difficult book to adapt and playwright Lolita Chakrabarti did a fantastic job.  But the biggest kudos must go to the creative team including the lighting and video designers, as well as the puppeteers, whose work took the show to an entirely different level.  You can find a video of the puppeteers rehearsing on Facebook.

Theatre 2024: Something Rotten! @ Stratford Festival

My husband Rich and I first became aware of the musical comedy Something Rotten! when we watched an outstanding performance of its showstopping number “A Musical” at the 2015 Tony Awards where it was nominated for 10 Tonies including Best Musical. After that, we waited impatiently for the show to come to Toronto. When it didn’t, we decided to drive to Buffalo,NY in 2018 to watch a touring production at the Shea Theatre. I wrote extensively about the Buffalo performance in my travel blog, which is available from the following link, so I won’t go into that much detail about the plot again for this review.

https://arenglishtravels.blogspot.com/2018/03/buffalo-2018-something-rotten-musical.html

We enjoyed Something Rotten! so much that we were thrilled to hear that it would be mounted at the Stratford Festival as part of their 2024 season.  We jumped at the opportunity to watch this delightful show again and encouraged all our friends to do so as well.  Stratford is the perfect venue for mounting this show since its two major topics, musicals and Shakespeare, are also the festival’s two mainstays.

Brothers Nick and Nigel Bottom, two writing contemporaries of William Shakespeare, are struggling to come up with new ideas for their next play or risk losing funding from their patron Lady Clapham.  Jealous of Shakespeare’s success and fame, Nick steals his family’s savings and hires a dubious soothsayer Thomas Nostradamus (not the famous or reliable one) to predict what will be the next big thing in theatre.  Nostradamus foresees the advent of the musical and tries to explain the concept to a skeptical Nick, which leads to the unforgettable number that was performed on the Tonies.  Hearing that in a musical, people break into song for no apparent reason, Nick protests “That’s the stupidest thing that I have ever heard”, but of course, he sings the lines (for no apparent reason and to much laughter). While still not sold on the concept, Nick exclaims that it all sounds miserable, to which Nostradamus retorts “I believe it’s pronounced Misér-a-a-a-bles”.

If you love musicals, then Something Rotten! is a love letter to the classics of the past, with musical references whizzing by faster than your brain can absorb them.  Tiny snippets of melody, lyrics, dance steps, costumes and props allude to iconic shows including Music Man, Chicago, Rent, Follies, Cats, Sweet Charity, Phantom of the Opera, Annie, A Chorus Line and many, many more. 

If you love Shakespeare, then there is much for you to recognize and relate to as well.  Nick’s wife Bea is named after Beatrice from Much Ado About Nothing and Nigel’s love interest Portia is named after the heroine in Merchant of Venice and Shylock the moneylender from that play is also a character here.  A judge named after Falstaff from the Henry IV plays appears towards the end of the show.  Actual lines from Shakespeare’s more famous plays are often quoted.  And if you like musicals but not Shakespeare, there’s something for you as well, since one of the songs that Nick sings is literally called “God, I Hate Shakespeare”.  Something Rotten! portrays Shakespeare as a genius, but also a pompous, arrogant rockstar from the Renaissance. Refreshingly, the female characters Bea and Portia are portrayed as intelligent, strong women who could rule the world if the idiot men around them would just let them.

Having already watched and loved this show, we were a bit wary that a second viewing would not stand up to our memories of the first time.  We needed not fear since the Stratford production was every bit as wonderful and hilarious as the Buffalo one.  Director Donna Feore (wife of actor Colm Feore) put her own personal touches to the Stratford version with new sets and costumes and most notably, incorporating her own personal musical references from Stratford shows that she directed in the past including Rocky Horror Picture Show, Guys and Dolls, Fiddler on the Roof, Sound of Music, Crazy For You and Little Shop of Horrors.  The nods to her past works were extra special when she was able to assign current cast members who were also in one of those shows to recreate a snippet of their past performances.  It became a whole new game of spot the musical.  I think I recognized a few more obscure ones including the cowboys from Will Rogers Follies and miners from Billy Elliot.  The highly anticipated “A Musical” number induced the almost expected, extended standing ovation.  But a subsequent extravaganza number in the second act was so thrilling that the audience jumped up to applaud for a second time.  A standing ovation in the middle of a show is already rare, but I have never seen this happen twice in the same show before.

The entire cast was spectacular including Michael Uhre who played the passionate and exasperated Nick Bottom, Jeff Lillico as a sexy, strutting Shakespeare, and Dan Chameroy, who we have seen many times in Ross Petty’s annual Christmas Pantomimes, playing a befuddled, wacky Nostradamus.  Having also watched La Cage Aux Folles, Stratford’s other musical this season, we recognized Steve Ross playing Shylock since he also starred as Albin/Zaza in La Cage, as did many of the male dancers in the Something Rotten! chorus, who played drag queens in the show that we watched earlier this season.

Taking advantage of Stratford’s 2 for 1 ticket sale at the beginning of the year, we ended up in the best seats that we have ever had at the Festival Theatre.  We sat 2nd row centre and were able to see subtle nuances in the performances that we usually miss when further back.  Luckily, we did not pick the first row since this was actually too close to the stage.  There were barriers, meant to stop the dancing chorus from falling on top of the audience, that might have blocked my line of sight.  We were so close that we could see the beautiful designs on the costumes, the expressions on the characters’ faces, but also their sweat from exertion, spit from enunciation and the gigantic smiles from the chorus that needed to be large enough for the back row to see, but looked almost unnatural from the second row.

We absolutely love Something Rotten! and it remains our favourite musical to this day, which is saying something considering how many musicals we have watched and continue to watch over the years.  It is wonderful to be able to go to the theatre and experience a show that is intelligent and witty without hammering you over the head with some serious message, that is fun entertainment and just a pure joy to watch.  If you hate both Shakespeare and musicals and don’t enjoy a good laugh, then Something Rotten probably isn’t for you.  Everyone else should rush out to see it before its run ends, although the show has been so successful that it is now extended two more weeks through mid November.

Theatre 2024: The Last Timbit @ Elgin Theatre

My husband Rich and I have been watching musicals written by sisters and Toronto-based composers and lyricists Anika and Britta Johnson for years now.  We first attended Anika’s hilarious work “Blood Ties” at the Toronto Fringe Next Stage Festival back in 2017 as well as her collaboration with Britta on the immersive cult musical “Dr. Silver: A Celebration of Life” which took place in a church where the audience literally were able to “drink the koolaid” and be blessed at the end of the show.  We have also watched several shows written by Britta alone including an early excerpt of her musical Life After, that is now completed and will be part of the 2024-2025 Off-Mirvish subscription series.  We also saw Kelly vs Kelly at CanStage Theatre in 2023 and Britta's mini musical that was part of Reframed held at the Art Gallery of Ontario.  To say that these sisters are prominent names in Canadian musical development is no exaggeration.

It was therefore with great excitement that we learned about a new musical that Anika and Britta had written called “The Last Timbit”.  This show was sponsored by Tim Hortons to celebrate their 60th anniversary of being in business in conjunction with Michael Rubinoff who produced the smash Canadian musical Come From Away.  The project came together very quickly, written in just six months and features a stellar cast of Canadian musical theatre stars including Chilina Kennedy who has appeared on Broadway in many shows including Beautiful: The Carole King Story and Jesus Christ Superstar, Sara Farb who was in Harry Potter and the Cursed Child on Broadway (and at Mirvish) and Jake Epstein who starred in the TV Shows Degrassi and Suits.

Although the action is set within a Tim Horton’s restaurant and there are many references to Timmys’ products including coffee, the BLT sandwich and of course, the eponymous Timbit donut, this musical is much more than an extended product placement commercial.  Based on an actual occurrence, the plot of The Last Timbit involves a disparate group of people caught in a wicked snowstorm in smalltown Ontario who all find refuge at a Tim Horton’s along the highway.

Separated from her husband, Michelle tries to bond with her moody teenaged daughter Olivia who is angry about the split and that she is forced to spend weekend visits with the mother that left her behind.  Dressed in sparkly black and gold spandex, Nicole and Vince are wannabe influencers trying to get to an important social gathering.  Kathy and Ellen are bickering best friends with a secret. Shane is an eccentric forest ranger who takes pride in being alone out in nature where he may or may not have seen a UFO.  Chloe desperately wants to fit in with her workmates and was enroute to meet them at a hockey game, even though she knows nothing about hockey. Anton is an old man who regularly frequents this Tim Hortons and always sits in the same seat at the same table.  As the show progresses, we learn more about these people including their issues and the reasons why some of them are so desperate to get back on the treacherous roads to reach their intended destinations.

The manager Monty and his employee Charlie try to distract their customers whose nerves fray as the wait seems interminable.  Together they devise a humorous 3-stage competition with the winner receiving the last Timbit that remains in the coffeehouse.  As it turns out, Charlie is in Olivia’s band class and is her crush (as reviewed by her song “Second Clarinetist”.)

The Last Timbit is sweet, funny and full of heart.  After opening with the entire cast singing “What Would You Do for a Timbit”, the story progresses with each set of characters singing a song that explains their situation. It is also Canadian to a core including a choreographed “hockey game” played with mops.  We watched this show on opening night in a sold-out theatre. At the end after bows from the cast, the producer introduced the technical crew as well as the writers of the show who each received special jackets from Tim Hortons.

This show generated much buzz for Tim Hortons and harkens back to the early 20th century when “Industrial Musicals” were popular.  These were musicals sponsored by companies like IBM, General Motors and Marshall Field’s Department Stores to promote enthusiasm amongst their workers.  Perhaps Tim Hortons has started a new trend in Industrial Musicals, this time for the general public. It would be natural progression from the wonderfully sentimental commercials that Tim Horton used to produce, like the one about the Asian grandfather watching his grandson play hockey while talking to his resentful son.  When the son realizes that his father had secretly watched his games as well, that one still brings a tear to my eye.

Theatre 2024: La Cage Aux Folles @ Stratford Festival

My husband Rich and I will be going to the Stratford Festival twice this year, taking advantage of their 2 for 1 ticket sale offered at the beginning of the season.  Our first show is a revival of the musical La Cage Aux Folles, which is based on the 1973 French play of the same name by Jean Poiret (with an anglicized translation of “Cage of Madwomen”).  The play’s initial run lasted five years with Poiret himself in the lead role.  In addition to the musical, two movies were also based on this source material including a 1978 French/Italian co-production of the same name (with an anglicized title Birds of a Feather), and a 1996 American version titled “The Birdcage” with an all-star cast including Robin Williams, Nathan Lane, Gene Hackman, Diane Wiest and a very young Calista Flockhart.

First opened on Broadway in 1983, the plot of the musical La Cage Aux Folles deals with Georges, the gay owner of the titular night club in Saint-Tropez and his long-time partner, the temperamental Albin, who stars in the nightly drag show using the stage name Zaza.  Together, the pair raised Georges’ son Jean-Michel who was the result of a brief “experimental” affair. Now grown-up, Jean-Michel wishes to marry Anne but fears that her ultra-conservative parents, including her father who is in politics and shies from bad publicity, would not approve given Georges and Albin’s sexual orientation and lifestyle.  Hijinks ensue when Anne and her parents come for dinner and Jean-Michel is desperate to be able to present them with a “normal family”.  Rather insensitively, he pleads with Georges to tone down the “gayness” of his home décor and to hide Albin, requesting that Jean-Michel’s biological mother (who has not been present in his life) be invited to dinner to act as the matriarch of the family instead.  Initially hurt and insulted, Albin offers to pretend to be the male “Uncle Al” and hilariously takes lessons on how to act more masculinely.  When the mother bails on the commitment, Albin steps up and dresses in drag to meet Anne’s family.  Adding to the farcical humour are the antics of Albin’s ultra-flamboyant transvestite “maid” Jacob.

We actually watched the musical version of La Cage Aux Folles back in 2012 but curiously, neither of us have any firm memories of that experience.  Our knowledge of the story stems more from watching the French movie, as well as The Birdcage where Robin Williams provides his usual manic, scene-stealing improvisations in the role of Georges (although for the movie, he is renamed Armand).  To figure out why, I looked back upon my writeup of the 2012 musical and saw that I panned it, faulting the stunt-casting of George Hamilton to play Georges leading to a bland production that lacked emotion.  I had few issues with the show itself as well.

By contrast, we were blown away by the performances of Sean Arbuckle as Georges and Steve Ross as Albin, who were extremely funny when they needed to be but also tender, loving and sympathetic when thrust into an impossible situation.  Their singing voices were magnificent, especially when Ross sang what would traditionally be thought of as the eleven-o’clock number “I am what I am” to close off the first act.  He exuded the hurt and pain that he felt at being asked by his family to hide his true identity.  Albin started off slowly but ends up defiantly declaring “Life's not worth a damn 'til you can say, ‘Hey world, I am what I am!’”.  It is a reprise of a lighter, playful version of the song titled “We are what we are”, sung by the drag-queen chorus the Cagelles as part of the cabaret show held at the night club.  They proudly trumpeted the joy of being in drag—“We love how it feels, putting on heels, causing confusion”.  Arbuckle showed off his singing chops with “Song on the Sand” when he reminisced about meeting Albin and declared his ongoing love for him—" I hear La da da da … And I'm young and in love.” That “la da da da” refrain reminds me of the love song from Hadestown and was possibly an inspiration for it.  Another highlight of this show was the hilarious, over-the-top campiness of the butler/maid Jacob, played by Chris Vergara, who shrieked, preened and postured in all of his scene-stealing appearances.

There were also fabulous costumes worn in the dance numbers of Les Cagelles as they performed various cabaret numbers, both as solos and in their ensemble numbers. A recurring joke involved an intimidating whip-wielding drag-queen and her production manager boyfriend who appeared more and more injured as the show progresses.   All of this made this rendition of the musical so much more enjoyable and memorable than the one we saw back in 2012.  This show had humour and heart and made you care for all the characters.  

Unfortunately, the issues from the book and songs of the musical remain.  There are some beautiful songs including the ones mentioned above, as well as “Anne on my arm” which the son sings in declaring his affection for his beloved, and “Look Over There” which Georges sings to remind his son of all that Albin has done for him.  The problem is there are too few songs in the setlist, and the same ones are reprised multiple times.  There are also too many extraneous characters, including townspeople, restaurant owners and a fisherman that wandered purposelessly through the stage twice, who don’t add anything important to the story.  Nevertheless, this was a wonderful show that broke barriers and bolstered the gay community in terms of representation, celebrating the themes of acceptance and being your true self.

For the most part, the plot in the various versions of this show is the same, including the hilarious scene of trying to teach Albin/Albert how to eat in a manly fashion.  But it is interesting to compare the differences that may have been triggered by changes in live vs filmed performance, language, culture, and the timeframe when each version came out.  In each case and sometimes inexplicably, each version felt the need to rename the major characters. Georges became the more Italian-sounding “Renato” in the French/Italian film that required Italian co-production because no French producer wanted to wade into gay plotline which was still considered controversial in the 70’s.  He was renamed Armand in The Birdcage, which also moved the setting from Saint-Tropez to Miami Beach, Florida and called Albin the more American-sounding “Albert”.  The son Laurent became Jean-Michel in the musical and Val in the Birdcage while his fiancée’s name changed from Muriel to Andréa to Anne to Barbara through the various versions.

A major plot point changed between the musical compared to the play and movies.  In these other versions, the biological mother finally did show up, leading to the ruse of Albin playing the role in drag to be revealed.  In each case, the fiancée’s father demands to know how many mothers does the son have?  In the earlier French film, it is Renato (aka Georges) who says, “Just one”, indicating Albin.  The son never stands up for the person who raised him, which always seemed a bit cold and insensitive to me.  This is rectified in The Birdcage when the son is the one who makes this acknowledgement.  Because the biological mother never arrives in the musical, this scene plays out differently.  A fallen wig gives Albin away and mayhem ensues leading Jean-Michel to seemingly apologize to Anne’s father.  But this is a fake-out because the apology is actually directed to Albin for not appreciating all that he had done in raising and being a true “mother” to Jean-Michel.  All the versions share the same delightful resolution to the conflict which I won’t spoil here.

Theatre 2024: Witness for the Prosecution @ Shaw Festival

During the COVID lockdown period, my friends and I amused ourselves by holding weekly Zoom meetings where we would take turns presenting a topic that interested us.  For one of my talks, I selected the life and works of Agatha Christie, the mystery writer known as the “Queen of Crime”, who still ranks second in the list of best selling fiction writers of all time, trailing only William Shakespeare.  Through the years, I have read and enjoyed many of Christie’s novels and plays as well as watching movie adaptations of her books.  Prior to attending Witness For The Prosecution at the Shaw Festival, the only live performance of a Christie play that I had watched was “The Mousetrap”, her most popular and longest running play.

Witness for the Prosecution is for the most part a courtroom drama that is based on a short story called “Traitor’s Hands” that Christie wrote in 1925, then adapted into a play in 1953.  Leon Vole is accused of murdering a wealthy spinster after befriending and charming her into making him the sole beneficiary in her will.  With means, motive and opportunity stacked up against him, Vole’s only defense is the alibi provided by his German wife Romaine who can testify that he was at home with her at the time of the murder.  Vole’s defense attorney Sir Wilfred Robarts Q.C. intends to call Romaine as his key witness but as the title of the play alludes to, she somehow ends up as a witness for the prosecuting side instead.

I previously watched the iconic 1957 film version of Witness for the Prosecution starring Tyrone Power as the accused, German actress Marlene Dietrich perfectly cast as his wife and the wily, irrepressible Charles Laughton as the defence counselor.  In the movie, the wife’s name was inexplicably changed to Christine.  Agatha Christie had deliberately selected the name Romaine to sound more foreign and exotic, which becomes an important plot point. Given the timing of the original short story which came out shortly after WWI and the play, which was adapted shortly after WWII, making this character of German descent played on any residual resentment left over from the wars that might be felt by the audience.

Known for her clever narratives and surprise endings, Agatha was not satisfied with the original ending of her short story and accordingly, added a second plot twist when she adapted the play.  The movie version took it one step further and added a final zinger.  This means that there are three different endings between the short story, the play and the movie, with each subsequent version building on top of the previous one.

Shaw Theatre’s version of Witness for the Prosecution adhered to the ending set up by the 1953 play”.  As was done for The Mousetrap, a plea is made to the audience at the end of this play to “keep the secret” of the twist ending so as not to spoil it for future viewers.  I will accede to this request and not give away the surprise ending.  Because I already knew the gist of the main twist, I did not get that same element of surprise as I did on my first exposure to the story.  As we exited the theatre after the play, we overhead two young women who obviously had not known what to expect and they were blown away by the ending.  Unfortunately, you can only experience that sensation once.

In comparison to the movie, which is my only frame of reference, the play did not have the same amount of humour and camp invoked by Charles Laughton’s pompous portrayal of Robarts.  Instead the campiness is directed at the actress playing Romaine, who is portrayed as the stereotypical “femme fatale” in a tongue-in-cheek manner.  Each time she struts on stage, her entrance is accompanied by a few bars of orchestration and a spotlight as she strikes a sexy pose.  She is dressed in the same sleek, silky jacket, skirt and hat on each appearance but the colour changes from a bright green to an orange to a bright red at the end, possibly to reflect her character arc.

Some interesting dialogue comes up early in the play when Vole refers to the murder victim as an “old woman”, then clarifies that she was 56.  When questioned by his lawyers of whether he considered that old, he remarks “you can’t call that a chicken, can you?”  These lines come straight from Christie’s play and possibly foreshadows one of the final twists.  This interaction feels even more jarring today when “60 is the new 40” and 56 would not be any adult’s definition of “old”.

During the prosecution’s cross-examination of Vole, it is mentioned that he was seen in the company of another character, with a very clear description of that character.  When the character eventually shows up, there is no resemblance to what was described.  Because of this, an important plot point that was set up by the initial interaction did not pay off at all.   I am not disparaging the concept of colour-blind casting, but perhaps the dialogue could have been slightly modified to match the casting so that Christie’s seemingly innocuous clue is not lost in the shuffle?

The play has two main sets which the action toggles between.  The first is the defense lawyers’ office where Robarts and his assistant Mayhew interview Leonard and Romaine and discuss the case. The second is the impressive court room complete with a judge perched up high with an image of the Scales of Justice appearing over his head, stenographer/clerks’ boxes, the witness box and the box holding the accused.  There is no jury box or presence of a jury on stage.  The attorneys turn towards us in the audience to plead their cases.  We are called upon to be the jury as we make our own decisions of Vole’s guilt or innocence while listening to the testimony.  In the lobby of Shaw’s Royal George Theatre were scaled down miniature models of the two sets as well as a few props from the show, which we were able to inspect during the play’s intermission.

Watching Witness for the Prosecution after already knowing how it ends took away a bit of that initial thrill of admiring Christie’s genius in spinning a twisty tale.  But this was still a fun play to watch and ultimately, a good plot is still a good plot, so we enjoyed it nonetheless. 

In 2017 there was a West-end revival of the play whose venue was London’s County Hall Court House, made up to look like the Old Bailey in the 1800s.  Some audience members were selected to sit in the public galleries and in the jury box.  That would have been a cool way to watch an old show!

Theatre 2024: The Wrong Bashir @ Crow's Theatre

To say that the majority of the plays in the 2023/24 season at Crow’s Theatre have been serious, dramatic, and sometimes extremely intense would be putting it mildly.  As part of this season, we watched a gripping play detailing horrific stories from the 2014 Russian-Ukraine war in Crimea and a fascinating verbatim play that describes the ordeal endured by a female chaplain who was kidnapped and tortured by a Neo-Nazi mental patient.  Even the lighter works included the frustrations and disappointments of a failed attempt to create Sidewalk Labs in Toronto, and a musical based on a small segment of the tome War and Peace that featured a suicide attempt.

While these were all excellent, well-acted and well-staged plays, it was still a breath of fresh air to finally get to see a comedy as the last show of the current season.  My husband Rich and I look to the theatre-going experience as a way to find escape and relief from all the turmoil going on in the world and welcome the opportunity to just laugh and be entertained.  I hope there will be more comedies (or “happy plays” as I like to call them) in the next season.

The Wrong Bashir is a farce by first-time playwright Zahida Rahemtualla, following that old literary doctrine “write about what you know”.  Reflecting her own heritage and culture, The Wrong Bashir deals with a multi-generational Ismaili family and the generational and cultural gaps that they face when interacting with one another.  Having grown up in Canada, the children Bashir and Nafisa are thoroughly westernized, while their parents Sultan and Najma, and grandparents (Dadapapa/Dadima) emigrated as adults and are much more traditional in their views and religious beliefs.

Photo from Crow's Theatre - Dahlia Katz

Bashir Ladha studied philosophy in university and has nihilistic views of the world which he wants to share via podcasts that he creates and attempts to play at coffee shops.  He recently moved back home since he has run out of money. His parents view his endeavours as aimless and worry that he is not involved in the Ismaili community and does not attend Khana where Ismailis gather to worship.   They are therefore thrilled to learn that their son was nominated to serve a prestigious religious position, totally ignoring the obvious fact that he does not qualify and therefore it must be a mistake.  The audience is on the joke right from the start given that the title of the play is “The Wrong Bashir”.  The antics caused by the mistaken identity ramp up as two council representatives, Al Nashir and Mansour, arrive to meet their chosen candidate and are perplexed by who they find.  As they try to reconcile the listed qualities and qualifications that led them to choose their nominee, Najma valiantly and comically tries to justify why her son would fit the bill.  The situation gets more fraught with the arrival of Bashir’s grandparents and gossipy family friend Gulzar, who heard the news through the grapevine.

The stage is set up in such a way that most of the home is visible in a linear fashion, so that you can see the living room, kitchen, dining area and hallway/front entrance all at once. This allowed for the conspiratory movement of groups of characters between the different spaces to find privacy in order to confer and strategize, eliciting the feeling of a door-slamming farce without the actual door-slamming. By the end of the first act, the two hapless councillors have realized that there are two people named Bashir Ladha in their Ismaili community and they are in the home of the wrong one.  But how to rectify the mistake without disappointing and dashing the hopes of this family?  And when Bashir finds out about the error, he is all for turning down the gig.

The mistaken identity trope produced the expected comedic scenarios.  But there was an entire extra layer of humour that catered directly to Ismaili or at least Muslim audience members who recognized gags about their customs and traditions.  In fact, some of the dialogue was actually spoken in a language native to the Ismaili but incomprehensible to those not of the culture.  In our sold-out show, which had a significant Ismaili representation in the audience, there was loud roaring laughter at dialogue or situations that did not land as well with the part of the audience who could not relate to the inside jokes.  It did not help that the sound did not travel well to the back of the theatre where we sat, making me miss the details of an important joke.  When the councilors first arrived to interview Bashir, he explained about his podcasts and examples of them were played on a boombox.  Unfortunately, the sound was so muffled that I could not hear what was said.  Yet I could tell by the horrified expression on Najma’s face and the confused ones on the councilors’, that it was something extremely inappropriate.  I also had trouble discerning some of the stronger accents used by the actors, especially when they were speaking quickly.

A few gags were more widely recognized across cultures included the plying of food on the guests, Gulzar shovelling leftovers into plastic takeout containers, and rhyming through countless names to determine the connection between Sultan and Al Nashir.  Another repeated joke involved the grandfather Dadapapa, who shows signs of dementia, going on and on providing endless blessings that required the guests to continually bow in acknowledgement.

The second act tones down the humour a bit and delves into more heartwarming concepts of family, goals and sacrifice.  We learn that Bashir’s father Sultan had to give up his goal of completing university because his family could not afford it and because they had to flee their home as refugees.  In a very touching scene, Dadapapa mistakenly thinks Bashir is actually Sultan and apologizes to him for making him to give up on his dreams.  This makes Bashir reconsider whether his life choices have been fair to his family.  In the end, The Wrong Bashir is a lively, humorous and ultimately touching comedy that can be appreciated on a whole other level for those who are familiar with Ismaili jargon and references.

Whenever possible, we try to attend the show that has a post show “talkback” where the play’s actors answer questions about their experiences.  For the Wrong Bashir talkback, we also got to hear from the playwright Zahida Rahemtula herself.  We found out that the play was written over 6 years ago and first premiered in Vancouver in 2023.  Her own father, Salem Rahemtula, played the role of Dadapapa and she incorporated situations from their own lives and stories that she heard from her grandparents into her writing.  The actress who played the grandmother revealed that this was her first acting role and that she was initially intimidated acting alongside more experienced performers.  We found out that aspects of the play changed making the transition from Vancouver to Toronto.  Initially the grandfather was Bashir’s mother’s parent instead of his father’s.  The actor playing the councillor Mousaud explained that there used to be even more slapstick in his role, but he toned it down to let the situations drive the comedy.

Theatre 2024: Four Minutes Twelve Seconds @ Tarragon Theatre

It is more or less a universal fact that a good story is the most important element in the presentation of any type of narrative, be it in a book, movie or play format.  For live performances, while fancy sets and costumes, music, lighting, and especially good acting are all useful elements, they cannot compensate for an inferior plot.

A case in point is the 90 minute play Four Minutes Twelve Seconds which has a riveting plot with many twists and turns.  Luckily, it also has a cast of stellar actors led by Megan Follows, who will always be known for her 1980’s portrayal of Anne of Green Gables, and Sergio Di Zio, who coincidentally was in an episode of Law and Order Toronto, Criminal Intent, that we just watched days before attending the play.

Currently performing at Tarragon Theatre, this is a family drama that feels like a thriller. The action starts with upper middle-class parents Diane (Di) and David discussing what happened to their seventeen-year-old son Jack after Di finds his shirt covered with blood. David initially downplays the blood as the result of a simple nosebleed, and then due to some inconsequential teenage rough-housing.  None of this rings true and under intense interrogation from Di, David’s explanations continue to change as he is caught in lie after lie. The tension rachets up as the real story involving a leaked sex video slowing unveils itself.  By the end of the play, the couple learns some hard truths about their “perfect” son and about each other.

The play is set up as a series of vignettes mainly featuring continued debates between Di and David with the passage of time being marked by subtle changes in clothing and Di’s hair which is tied into a ponytail then loosened repeatedly.  In trying to learn the truth of what happened, Di has confrontations with Jack’s friend Nick who she labels  as “slow” and Jack’s ex-girlfriend Cara who she dismisses as being “too Scarborough” (as in poor and trashy).

Megan Follows gives a powerful performance as her character Di goes through a wide range of emotions that almost mirrors the stages of grief, as she deals with the ever changing information that comes her way.  She starts with denial and anger as she rages against perceived injustices levied upon her son.  Then comes bargaining and depression as the truth starts to permeate and she struggles to come to terms with Jack’s culpability in events that led to his beating.  When she finally reaches acceptance, her proposed solution is shockingly tone-deaf and reeks a bit of wealthy, white entitlement.  Di Zio plays David perfectly, outwardly conveying an upstanding, devoted father and husband while subtly oozing with duplicitousness that makes you want to smack him on Di’s behalf.  Although their roles were small, the actors playing Nick and Cara were excellent as well.  I was especially impressed by the impassioned final rant that Cara directs at Di, where the meaning of the title of the play is finally revealed.  It is interesting that although he is referenced throughout the entire play, Jack never appears on stage.  You are left to imagine him through the dialogue carried on by the other characters.

The set is simple but effective, with most of the action taking place around the dining table of David and Di’s home.  For the few scenes where Di ventures out to speak with Nick or Cara, there is a lit-up V-shaped white line with a bench at one end that delineates the street or a setting outside of the house.  Nothing more is required since the set is inconsequential when you are so engrossed by the dialogue.  Four Minutes Twelve Seconds is a terrific play that dwells on issues of trust, privacy, consent, male toxicity, entitlement, class, race, and the perils of living in the age of technology.  It does a fine job of illustrating the point that a great plot is everything.