Theatre 2026: The Division @ Crow's Theatre

I went to watch the play The Division at Crow’s Theatre with no prior knowledge of what the play was about, other than making assumptions based on its title. I thought it might be related to a situation similar to the Partition of India in 1947, or perhaps a more personal melodrama based the breakup of a family unit. It did not occur to me that the “Division” in question would refer to a military unit.

Written by second generation Canadian-Ukrainian playwright Andrew Kushnir, the development of the play stems from the fallout of an article that he had published in the “Lives Lived” column of the Globe and Mail newspaper.  The long-standing obituary-like column accepts short, intimate personal essays that celebrate the “unheralded lives” of recently deceased Canadians. In 2019, Kushnir submitted a piece in honour of his grandfather Peter Kushnir, who passed away in Montreal at age 91 in late 2018. Within his tribute, Andrew described his grandfather or “dyido” as “Ukrainian patriot, Watchmaker, CPR clock man”. Andrew went on to detail his grandfather’s time spent in World War II as part of the “1st Division of the Ukrainian National Army”, fighting on behalf of the Germans against Ukraine’s sworn enemy, the Russians. Peter was captured during the war and spent time in an Italian prisoner-of-war camp until he and two others escaped. He immigrated to Ontario in 1947 and became a skilled watchmaker, leaving his grandson Andrew a pocket watch upon his death.

I found this 2019 article behind the Globe and Mail paywall and read it along with the comments posted by other readers. The well-written article led to several comments praising Andrew’s writing style. But then came a shocking comment from a reader who made note that the 1st Division of the Ukrainian National Army was better known as the “German 14 Waffen Division SS Galizen” with members of this unit being responsible for one of the “worst atrocities committed against Jews and Poles during WWII”. The commenter went on to reference the book “Hitler’s Foreign Executioners: Europe’s Dirty Secret” by Christopher Hale. 

Andrew Kushnir knew his grandfather as a contradictory man who was both strict and foreboding as well as gregarious and full of stories. But being a part of the “Waffen-SS” was not a story that Peter Kushnir ever told. Learning of this led Andrew on a mission to find out more about his grandfather’s past. He traveled to Peter’s hometown in Ukraine to retrace his grandfather’s steps from his youth, through the war, until his migration to Canada. Andrew traveled from town to town, interviewing anyone who might have known his dyido or was around during the same time periods.

The play The Division reenacts Andrew’s quest with actor Daniel Maslany (younger brother of Tatiana Maslany from Orphan Black fame) playing the role of the playwright. Four other actors (two male, two female) literally act as the Greek Chorus at the start of the play, echoing his words, before transforming into the myriads of people that Andew met during his investigations.  To illustrate what a personal tale this will be, the play begins with Daniel playing a tape recording of what presumably is Andrew Kushnir’s voice informing the audience that the actor holding the tape recorder will be a stand-in for him. As a framing device for conveying the tale, Andrew is documenting his odyssey by writing letters to be read in the future by his young nephew Lev, once Lev reaches adulthood and is old enough to understand. The goal seems to be to end the cycle of silence and secrecy by passing on his grandfather’s past and legacy to the next generation.

At the centre of the thrust stage is a table full of clocks and clockmaking tools to highlight Peter’s profession as a watchmaker. Throughout his journey, Andrew carries a vintage, exquisitely crafted pocket-watch that his grandfather made, encouraging people he meets to hold and examine the timepiece. It feels like Andrew wants people to see the part of the grandfather that he knew, as a buffer against new details that he might be about to learn. The watch feels like a metaphor for the grandfather, as they are both complex with many intricate parts. A gap in the front row of the audience (coincidentally right in front of my seat) was left for a folding chair that allowed Andrew to occasionally sit in, as if joining the audience in watching the scene unfolding in front of him.

The conceit and backstory of this autobiographic tale is fascinating but somehow the play didn’t work for me.  There were so many disparate characters with thick accents that were difficult to understand and so many jumps in locations and dates that it made it hard to follow where Andrew was, who he was talking to, and in some cases, why he was talking to them and how those conversations added any useful context to the story. It felt more like a brain dump of his travels rather than a cohesive tale. A screen at the back of the stage with very faint letters briefly tried to highlight the date and location (e.g. 2019 Krakow) but more often than not, my view of that was obscured either by an actor or a stagehand who was setting up props for the next scene.

There were some interesting discussions about whether the young men from conquered foreign countries were forced into the German army, or in Ukraine’s case, did they go willingly in order to gain access to arms for fighting the Russians? There was some debate about whether it is an appropriate time to put on a play like “The Division”, when Ukraine is desperately battling for its sovereignty and does not need to be painted in a bad light. There was also a scene depicting the political debacle in Canada during the Trudeau administration when a Canadian-Ukrainian “war hero” was given a standing ovation in parliament before it was revealed that he fought for the Nazi Waffen-SS Grenadier Division, providing parallels to Peter Kushnir’s role in the war. What was unequivocal was the playwright’s stance on the Russian-Ukrainaian war.  Graphic denouncements of the unjust and cruel Russian aggression and the atrocities committed included the actors literally spitting onto the stage in disgust.

Although it was only 95 minutes long, the show seemed to drag for me. It was ironic that in a play that so prominently featured watches, I ended up looking at my watch multiple times to see how much longer it would be before the end. The basis for a good story was there but perhaps it needed to be presented in a different way. I was surprised to learn that my husband felt the same way. As a history major and lover/collector of watches, if anyone was going to appreciate this play, it was him.