The Importance of Being Earnest -- Arts Club

Story in 2 sentences: Jack Worthing pretends to be his brother, Ernest, when partying in the city, and finds love. His friend Algernon pretends to be Ernest when partying in the country, and also finds love.

People who should see this show:
People who enjoy light comedy.

Gays who enjoy looking for hidden meaning, but don't want to work too hard at it.

Well, we knew we were in for a treat when the woman across the aisle from us pulled out a glass, some ice and a mini-bottle of scotch from her oversized handbag, and poured her husband a drink before fixing one for herself. We judged her, though we would have judged her less if she had offered us a drink as well.

The worst part about seeing a play in Vancouver is the pre-show commercial, and the Arts Club is horrible for it. Every performance, the same officious guy (reminds me of a former boss) comes out, thanks the sponsors and then acts surprised when some idiot starts them all clapping. No thank you. I turn commercials off at home; I refuse to applaud for one when I'm at a show.

I read the director's notes. I shouldn't; it generally sets my teeth on edge. David Mackay's did, this time by denying any homosexual (he says 'uranian' -- he's very educated) undercurrents in the play. OF COURSE there are homosexual undercurrents.

1. Bunburying -- leading a double life

2. A rakish confirmed bachelor

3. An incorrigible brother who dies in Paris

4. Algernon's obsession with cucumbers

5. THE GUY IN THE DRESS whom you cast as Algernon's Aunt Augusta, Mr. Mackay.

After the silent prequel scene, (a bit of unnecessary hocus-pocus, no doubt trying to get us in the mood for melodrama), the curtain rose on a disappointing set. Amir Ofek obviously didn't want to be stuck with Downton Abbey-like drawing rooms and gardens, so he, of course, treated us to a giant top hat and mirror, followed by a sort-of garden, and finally a pile of suitcases. Imaginative? Possibly, although I wasn't really excited by it -- seemed sort of half-assed Alice in Wonderland -- but definitely detrimental to the blocking. Rather than people sitting around having tea, Mackay had them standing in a line talking to one another. To allow us to concentrate on the words, no doubt. Bah.

The performances ranged from pretty good to really good.

Ryan Beil, as Jack Worthing, was spot-on. He really was made for intelligent comedy. His counterpoint, Charlie Gallant, was less so. He played the foppish Algernon with too much sincerity in the first half, though he warmed up after intermission. Amber Lewis, as Gwendolen, was solid, but the real star of the young lovers was Ella Simon as Cecily Cardew. I was prepared to hate her; after the first two lines, her accent had already ranged through half of northern Europe, then paused in southern California. However, she won me over with her innocent comic timing -- sincerity fit her part perfectly.

Of the smaller roles, Deborah Williams's Miss Prism was the standout. Her flawless timing, perfect voice and brilliant physicalization made it difficult to take my eyes off her. I found myself wishing she were in more scenes. Allan Zinyk as Lady Bracknell was a bit too restrained for my taste, especially in comparison, and Simon Bradbury's Reverand Chausible and Allan Gray's Lane/Merriman were both cases of actors working really hard to make small parts memorable. They sort of succeeded, but not in a good way.

It was a good time. Plays until April 15th.

Some Highlights:

Lewis and Simon's oh-so-polite catfighting over tea: the best written scene in the piece, played perfectly.
Beil and Gallant's muffin fight: genius.

Williams's rapturing over her handbag: creepily hilarious.

The drunk lady who finished off Ryan Beil's last line for him.

The Comedy of Errors -- Bard on the Beach

Story in 2 Sentences:
Two sets of twins separated at birth are unknowingly reunited. They get mistaken for each other before it's all sorted out.

People who should see this show:
Everyone. People who grumble when directors "do things to Shakespeare" (i.e. my hubby) will grumble a lot, then grudgingly admit they enjoyed it anyway. People who don't usually like Shakespeare will find it accessible.


David Mackay's Comedy of Errors is fun. The story is fun, the production is fun, the acting is fun. The thing is, it's a comedy, with an unbelievable storyline and generally broad characters who do unbelievable things. But the audience buys into it anyway. Because it's fun.

It is filled with self-referential gags: In the middle of the second half, a vendor sells "rats on a stick" calling to mind how different an experience Shakespeare was in Shakespearean times (the audience had the option of buying tomatoes from vendors to throw at performers); an actor mimes talking on a cell phone, which is, I suppose, the contemporary interruption analogous to the bustle and chatter my English teachers told me was going on in the Globe. But these gags are intelligent, and, I found, useful. There was never a chance for my mind to wander during lulls of sing-song acting -- I was constantly snapped to attention, and therefore never missed an important plot element in a somewhat confusing play -- and, grumble though he may, neither did hubby.

The design is also self-referential: a puppet theatre, Queen Elizabeth as Solinus, sound effects ranging from trumpets to demonic laughter. This is a production for people who are interested in the history of English theatre, but does not exclude those who aren't in the know. Consider the levels in one sight gag:

Solinus, duke of Ephesus is played by Christopher Gaze in Queen Elizabeth I's iconic dress.

Funny to people who aren't in the know: an old guy in a dress.
Nod to historical accuracy: Female parts were played by men in dresses in Elizabethan England
Contemporary commentary on this gender role: It's a male part being played by a man in a dress
A reminder of the political context of the time of writing: Elizabeth was ruler of England, and did not hesitate to order death when it suited her politically, as Solinus will do if Egeon can't pay his fine.
Further nod to historical accuracy: Elizabeth, reigning queen of England, referred to herself as "prince"
In-joke: Solinus, the duke who dispenses justice, is played by the artistic director of Bard on the Beach

There are more layers -- I thought of another but forgot it, and I'm sure there are more in-jokes that I'm not privy to, more contemporary or historical commentary that I'm not up on. Do I feel smart for having understood all of these layers at once? Absolutely. Would I have enjoyed it if I hadn't? Absolutely. And this is one sight gag that occurs at the very beginning and end of the play -- there are more, each one as thoughtful -- if I didn't think I'd bore you all to tears I would write about them all.

See the show. You'll like it even if you don't want to. Plays until September 26


Some highlights:
Colleen Wheeler's Adriana: perfect
Shawn Macdonald's Dromio of Ephesus: very well done
Kevin MacDonald's Antipholus of Syracuse: well acted, and part of a brilliant comic duo
Christopher Gaze's Solinus: an enjoyable camio
Bob Frazer's Antipholus of Ephesus: the only truly repugnant character in the show, Frazer actually made him sort of likeable
Ryan Beil's Dromio of Syracuse: the other half of a brilliant comic duo, and just as funny as a solo act
Jennifer Lines' Luciana: funny sidekickery at its best
Amber Lewis' Courtesan: brings life to a small role -- outstanding