Writer/Director Chris Stanton returns to SummerWorks with Elora Gorge a quiet, insightful piece about a small town captivated by a corpse discovered in the local woods. The fact that the dead man is naked and died by drowning despite being miles away from any body of water only adds to the intrigue. If this set up sounds familiar, it's because it's the basis for a popular urban legend that was also incorporated into Mordichai Richler's Barney's Version.
Stanton wisely avoids following through with the urban legend's reveal, instead using the enigmatic deceased as more of a poetic image...
Carlos Gozalez-Vio, Carlos Diaz, Dov Mickelson in Elora Gorge; photo: Aviva Armour-Ostroff
An early highlight of the Summerworks Festival, Mr. Marmalde is a dark and twisted comedy from playwright Noah Haidle is brought to life in a delightful and imaginative production by director Mitchell Cushman and a vibrant cast featuring the always reliable David Storch.
Amy Keating in Mr Marmalde, photo credit: Simon Bloom
What a perfect venue for a period piece. The auditorium of the Stanley Industrial Alliance Stage itself is already so atmospheric, it complimented the set beautifully. Before the lights had even dimmed I was well primed to be transported back to a time of manners coated in wicked wit and of scandals rationalized away with philosophy.
The concept of the Hard Times Hit Parade is innovative and original. Set during the height of the great depression, it depicts a society that will sacrifice their well-being and their personal relationships in the hopes of winning some cold hard cash. In this case the challenge is a dance marathon and this particular marathon goes on for more than five months. However, the brilliance of the original idea is lost along the way when the show goes off on too many tangents. Coming in at just under two-and-a-half hours the show is not only a marathon for the...
Photographing one's mother is an intimate act. It is also very intimate to photograph a corpse. I imagine that photographing ones own dead mother must feel doubly intimate. It seems to me that when composing your mother’s dead body for a shot, the photographic act becomes an act of love while also being an act of preservation and abstraction. Complex emotions are present, albeit mitigated by the realities of lens and lighting as well as the structures of aesthetics.
I have spent a week struggling with my reaction to the current production of Edward Albee's seminal American play Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf, an Arts Club/Blackbird Theatre co-production running on the Granville Island Stage until March 12th.
High Flying Bird doesn't ever really get off the ground. It's educational, inclusive and community oriented like all of Vancouver Moving Theatre's projects, but the story is pedestrian, and shot through with faux-teen pop colloquialisms and broad stereotypes. The Sleazy Talent Agent. The Overprotective Grandfather. The Rebellious Teenager. Big Mama. The Reverend. If it was pantomime it would be right on the money, but here I'm afraid it comes across as ambitious community theatre: all heart and not much substance.
Pathos in a play is like salt: the right amount adds savour, too much just makes everything taste like salt. Almost Maine manages to find a good balance with it's gentle take on the closeness and the distance of love. Written as a series of interwoven two-actor vignettes, it never takes itself too seriously, and at its best pulls on the heartstrings. Gently.
I have a confession to make: I love Leaky Heaven Circus. Since I moved to Vancouver in 2003 I’ve seen most of their shows, and, luckily for me, I’ve learned to approach their work with an open mind.
My mom told me once that she thought nothing you experience when you're young truly prepares you for how tedious life can actually be. Apparently the mothers of the creators of Avenue Q passed on similar thoughts... Which led them to creating a smash hit musical and me to writing for PLANK Magazine. But I digress.
