Victoria: You may have seen Gemma Wilcox downtown, a poster for her show raised up out of her back like a samurai flag, drumming up an audience for The Honeymoon Period is Officially Over. It’s almost surprising that she has to work so hard to fill seats- and they were nearly all filled- given the substantial buzz already surrounding the show, to say nothing of just how amazing the performance itself is.
Victoria: All I remember from grade-school history class was that Louis Riel was the champion of the Metis and died fighting for them. If that sounds familiar, this show isn’t going to fully enlighten you. You’re not going to get an A on an exam, but this will be the one time that a history lesson makes you laugh your ass off for a full hour.
Victoria: Anyone who’s attended a show at the Fringe this year has seen Jem Rolls—if not on stage, then out on the street, spreading the good news of his own show. But he isn’t the only one talking about his best of performance, Leastest Flops—everybody seems to love it. His out-of-the-way venue boasted the longest line-up I’ve seen yet this Fringe. Maybe it’s because of the buzz, or maybe it’s because everyone felt personally invited to be there.
Victoria: In the event that Alex Plouffe and Samantha Richard read the reviews here on the Craig, they’ll probably want to know that the seats they chose for their in-audience first scene were the two directly to the left of this very reviewer. The experience comes highly recommended.
Victoria: Things exist which are funny: funny things, like muppets having sex, make us laugh. Things that are not funny also exist: consider tax returns, which do not make us laugh. In some horrific limbo world lies the unfunny. The unfunny, much like the undead, is a gnawing emptiness only half-concealed by the stolen, desecrated flesh of the living. Things which are unfunny include The Monday News, written by and starring the Pigs.
Victoria: When a fire tuck, sirens ablaze, pulled up alongside a burlesque venue, the awaiting audience and I figured we were in for something hot. But then reality kicked in; the truck had arrived to aid someone in the townhouses beside the University Canada West venue. And the show? It’s less hot and more edutainment. And that’s okay.
Victoria: If you’ve heard one too many politic stabs, or taken in an ounce too much of obscurity this Fringe, then stay out just a little bit later and go meet Lavignia. Vancouver’s Tara Travis plays the entire playful cast in this storybook adventure directed by Ryan Gladstone, but she simply sparkles as the eight-year-old giantess.
Written by Lee MacDougall of Canada, High Life was adopted and adapted by the theatres of Japan. It is Tokyo’s Ryuzanji Company that has delivered back to us this complete, polished and intoxicating theatrical parcel about ex-cons planning the robbery that will, finally, set them free.
Victoria: There comes a point where most people start to dread their birthdays. For Jackie (Lana Schwarcz), it’s all downhill after 30, a slow downward decay into old age. She diagnoses herself as a “gerontophobic “—one with an intense fear of aging. So, she sets off to conquer this fear . . . by taking a job at a Jewish nursing home in Melbourne.
Victoria: Pete’s a synopsis writer; Anna’s his apparently feisty intern. An updated copy of Anne Frank lands on Pete’s desk; Pete goes loonier than Bugs Bunny on drugs. Throughout the course of the play Pete (who is not too bright, but seems to be bright enough to give the audience lectures about how great he is) procrastinates against his 50-word blurb, without the faintest idea that he could just Google the book instead of reading it, writing the synopsis and be done.
