Around the World in 80 Days -- Gateway Theatre

Story in 2 Sentences:
Phileas Fogg goes around the world in 80 days. Wow.

People who should see this show:
The employees of the theatre. Cause they have to.



There was just nothing good about it. At all. The story seems like it could produce something worth seeing, but it never did. It was a series of uninteresting anecdotes, bad slapstick, and uninspired dialogue made difficult to understand by bad accents. Parnelli Parnes, playing Passepartout, certainly acted his heart out, but it was to no avail. I have been in his shoes, acting my heart out in what I knew in the depths of my soul was a horrible, horrible show, and I cannot blame him at all for what I saw. Nor can I blame Ted Cole, playing Fogg, who, it seemed, was directed by Simon Johnston to never show any emotion. Possibly this made him an amusing character to read about in the book. Certainly it made the production incredibly boring. I do, however, blame Keith Martin Gordey for his horrible slapstick, horrible accents and horrible characterization as Detective Fix and other characters.

We wanted to leave about 3 seconds into it, but there were people blocking our way. We held out until intermission (at least there was an intermission -- we'd wanted to walk out of Drowning Girls the previous month, but were stuck in the back row with no escape possible outside of running across the water-covered stage), grabbed our things, headed to the door -- and ran into an associate of hubby's, who has something to do with the production. We cheerfully lied and avoided eye contact, then made excuses about going to the bathroom and ran out of the theatre, never to return.

Seriously, never. We got season tickets as an experiment, and understand now what a mistake that was. The Gateway is not a good theatre. It just seems that it's the only thing going in on Richmond.

Some Highlights:
The trick with the elephant (although it was ruined immediately by a fart joke).
My daring escape at intermission.

Mr. Dexter and her Daily -- Arts Club Theatre

The story in 2 sentences:

Mrs. Dexter's husband left her for her best friend and she's so, so sad. Her slave wants to retire.

People who should see this show:
People who like Shirley Valentine
People who like hierarchy
People who like Rosie the riveter



I am the kind of guy who likes monologues that show different points of view, and I thought If We Are Women was a brilliant play. So when you combine that genre with that playwright, it is right up my alley.

However, the play itself wasn't as good as I'd hoped for. It was pretty predictable, with fairly safe conventions and and nothing really special or surprising. I liked it, I just wouldn't have picked it for a season.

What strikes us every time when we go to the Stanley is the high production value. I know, I know, it's all about the words and the acting, and the Greeks didn't have sets, but I still like to see a cool set. And this one, a kitchen complete with working electrical sockets, freezer and plumbing, was pretty cool. The costumes were, if not incredible, believable without looking cheap, and perfect for the characters.

The play is basically two monologues: the first act by Peggy (the daily), and the second by her employer. Act 1 is fine; a lot of exposition, a lot of character work for both characters (Peggy's opinions tell us a lot about Mrs. Dexter before we even see her), and a few gags. But, regardless of Peggy's happy-go-lucky charm, the entire purpose of act 1 is to preload us for act 2, and I think that's a shame. Peggy's story as it's told to us isn't interesting enough to be a play in itself, unlike Mrs. Dexter's. The devices Glass uses for her monologues, although suited to the characters, also differed in quality: speaking to a friend who isn't there (Mrs. Dexter) is far more interesting than speaking to god or the audience (Peggy). Act 2 is a beaultiful piece of work, worth the exposition. Mrs. Dexter's story of betrayal and her reaction to it is what shines in the play.

The class structure of the play is interesting to me. I find it a bit disturbing that lower-class woman has the less compelling story, and remains dependent on her employer even to be able to retire comfortably. But now that I have a cleaning lady, I must admit that I'm less uncomfortable than I once would have been.

Both actresses did quite well, nearly dropping some lines here and there, but that was more than made up for by brilliant characterization. It's a pity that Cavendish didn't have more to work with in the script; act 1 was the weaker, but not due to her performance.

See it, if you get a chance. Bring your maid.

Some highlights
Nicola Cavendish's incredible live re-wiring of an electric fan: really cool.
Fiona Reid's drunk: brilliantly played, believably timed, and both sad and funny.

Thoroughly Modern Millie -- Gateway Theatre

Story in 2 Sentences:
Millie moves to New York in order to marry rich. After stopping a white slavery ring being run by her "Chinese" landlady, she does.

People who should see this show:
People who haven't seen it before.
Friends and family of the chorus.


The problem with reviewing this show is that I just saw it a few months ago for the first time.

Nothing compares to your first time.

My first James Bond was Timothy Dalton, followed by Roger Moore on video. When I see Sean Connery classics, I turn my nose up. He wasn't right. He wasn't first.

However, I am a very open-minded, mature, intelligent person. So when I went to the Playhouse's version of the Drowsy Chaperone, I accepted a pudgy narrator even though I'd already seen rake thin Bob Martin play the part in Toronto. I accepted an older Chaperone than Lisa Lambert, and realized that the rewrites had improved what I had always thought of as a perfect musical. So based on my clearly-evidenced mature mindset, I have decided that any comparison I make to the Theatre Under the Stars version is perfectly reasonable. And I will make a few of them.

Last time, Millie was played brilliantly by Diana Kaarina. This time, not-so brilliantly by Lauren Bowler. She mostly had the voice for it, and could dance, I suppose, but her acting -- not good. Really not good. In a show where the lead comes to New York full of hope and ambition, she gave Millie a jaded edge that made her drive to marry rich more cynical than cute. And her pacing was slow. So very slow and angry.

And then there was Millie's love interest, Jimmy Smith, played by Mat Baker. I think he thought he was in Days of Our Lives. Every time he walked on the stage, you could hear the whooshing sound of energy being sucked out of the theatre. However, his voice was gorgeous, and I would love to hear him sing again. Maybe not while he's acting, though.

Diana Kaarina, who played Millie so skillfully a few months ago, really fell flat this time. When I saw it done at Theatre Under the Stars, Miss Dorothy Brown, ably played by Meghan Anderssen, seemed like an important part of the story. Here she seemed like a minor character part, barely more important to the story than any of the girls in the hotel. Her voice was up to the challenge, though -- lovely soprano.

Gaelan Beatty did well as Millie's boss/stalking victim, Mr. Trevor Graydon, playing to his usual high standard. His voice was well matched to Kaarina's, and he owned every scene he was in.

Denis Simpson as Muzzy van Hossmere was a surprise, I have to say. In his first scene, I was fairly irritated; putting a man in a dress for a few laughs is cheap, in my opinion. The cross-casting did nothing to improve the play, instead distracting us from it and bringing us out of the moment. However, there was a payoff in the end, during the scenes between van Hossmere and Mrs. Meers.

And here is where the show was worth the money and then some. Irene Karas as Mrs. Meers, the landlady/ringleader of a white slavery outfit, was brilliant. Perfection. Completely different to the Meers of the Theatre Under the Stars production (Sarah Rodgers, whom I also enjoyed), she nailed every joke, and had a kick-ass voice to boot. It was also her perfect performance that has allowed me to forgive the racist elements in the show -- thank you, Irene.

The artistic team was not good, and I am beginning to be afraid that this is a frequent problem at the Gateway. Simon Johnston's direction was lackluster, seeming as though he was embarrassed by the pastiche of Millie. The elevator gag -- thrown away. The staging -- every scene and change looked the same. The subtitles -- yawn. With the exception of the two tap-dancers, the dancing was generally horrible; Kenneth Overbey's choreography looked all at once too complex and too simple. Jenifer Darbellay was clearly working within a budget for her costumes, but also hadn't thought them through. Dull colour palette on top of the even drearier tones of Drew Facey's set. I realize this is intended to make Millie stand out more, but in this case it just drew attention to her badly designed duds.

Don't go unless you haven't seen it before. Plays until January 3.

Some Highlights:
Irene Karas' Mrs. Meers: brilliant in every way
Gaelan Beatty's Mr. Trevor Graydon: very capably performed, with excellent diction in "The Speed Test"
"I'm Falling in Love with Someone": beautifully sung, particularly Diana Kaarina's soprano notes

Back to You: the Life and Music of Lucille Starr -- Gateway Theatre

Story in 2 sentences:
Lucille Starr tells the story of her life at the first stop on her comeback tour. It was a hard life.
People who should see this show:
People who live within a 5 block radius of the Gateway
People who really like Lucille Starr and are willing to forgive a lot


I think the Lucille Starr story is very interesting, and I really wish someone had written it well. The play's conceit, that she is looking back on her life and telling her audience the story, was unnecessary. Her narrative distanced us emotionally from the action, and the lense through which we are forced to view it does not add to the story in any way. Tracey Power, the playwright, would do well to abandon that perspecctive and give us insight into Starr's life in a more direct way.

But you gotta love a Richmond audience. Oddly unicultural, considering Richmond's racial diversity, but running the whole age gamut (though heavily weighted to the old side, to be sure).

Beverly Elliot, who played the old version of Lucille, had a lovely voice, but seemed decidedly uncomfortable using it in a concert setting. The script required the sort of frank, conversational tone a singer would use with her audience, as well as the easy showmanship without strict choreography that one would expect from a country star of that era. Elliot's lack of confidence made it difficult to enjoy the "present" of the play.

Alison MacDonald, playing the younger Starr, was more successful, but often seemed to be playing to a house of 500 people rather than the intimate black box theatre. Elliot had not enough showmanship, and MacDonald a bit too much. To be sure, MacDonald had a tougher job of it, playing Lucille Starr from the age of 8 or so to adulthood. Adulthood was better. Her 8-year-old was much more Children of the Corn than one would have liked.

The two shared the vocals of Lucille Starr's hits, and musically, their duets were the high point of the evening. Their voices blended beautifully, and neither unduly overpowered the other.

Jeff Gladstone, as Lucille's husband Bob Regan, was easily the best performer of the three, playing a convincingly charming yet abusive alcoholic husband. Less convincing was MacDonald's performance of the abused wife as told by Elliot. Power's play moved too quickly from love to cruelty, leaving us wondering at all times why Starr remained with him. There never was a moment that explained it. Unfortunately, by the end of the play, the young looking Gladstone was difficult to believe as an aging Regan.

Some highlights:
The band was awesome.
Jeff Gladstone's Bob Regan: well portrayed, much better work than could have been expected from the script
Beverly Elliot and Alison MacDonald's duets: beautiful.

Suor Angelica and Gianni Schicchi -- UBC Opera

Story in 2 Sentences:
Suor Angelica kills herself. Gianni Schicchi pulls a fast one.
People Who should see this show:
Suor Angelica -- no one.
Gianni Schicchi -- everyone.


The tickets had SUOR ANGELICA in huge print, with Gianni Schicchi written underneath. Not the choice I would have made.

We entered the lobby, which was filled, it was nice to see, with a mix of ages. Lots of children and university students, middle-aged and old people. I like that in an opera audience. We found our seats, looked around us and waited.

Then came the speech, delivered by the Head of UBC voice and opera, Nancy Hermiston. God, I am sick of speeches before shows. If I want to know who the sponsors are, I will read the program.

At last, Suor Angelica. A boring story, predictably directed. Hermiston must have put a good deal of thought into how to ensure the cast always ended up in a semi-circle on stage, regardless of the action, entances, exits and narrative. Ruth Greenaway-Robbins was a convincingly distraught Suor Angelica, the only performer who played anything more than a characature. During group scenes, it was charming to see the lead actually acting, but when she played in a duet opposite Charlotte Burrage, the principessa, the juxtaposition of Greenaway-Robbins' shrieking histrionics with Burrage's confused stoicism was unbearably comic; if I had been the principessa, I would have thrown her into a convent too.

I was glad it was a one-act. I was amused to see Hermiston take the final bow.

The nuns sold 50-50 tickets in the intermission. Seriously. Now that is comedy.

Another speech preceded Gianni Schicchi. I ground my teeth a little, but it turned out to be a draw for the 50-50 tickets, and the first genuinely interesting moment of the evening, when the nun who was doing the draw discovered that she had pulled her mother's name.

Gianni Schicchi was brilliant from the first note. First of all, it's a funny story with beautiful music. Second, it was well performed and well directed. It was full of life at every moment, and I was interested to see what would happen next for the whole show. I had never heard of either opera before, but Gianni Schicchi did feature a familiar aria: "O Mio Babbino Caro," which was beautifully performed by Teresa Sedlmair.

Hermiston took a bow again, but this time I stopped clapping. Enough was enough.

Some Highlights:
Cameron McPhail's Gianni Schicchi: well acted and sung.
Teresa Sedlemair's Lauretta: brilliant aria.
Hany Janawati's Zita: I laughed every time I saw the scowl on her face. Good voice, too.
Martin Sadd'd Rinuccio: difficult to play a serious character well when you're surrounded by comedy, but he pulled it off admirably.
Stephanie Ferracane's La Ciesca: brilliant comic timing.

The Foursome -- Gateway Theatre

Story in 2 sentences:
4 friends from university meet up at a reunion and play golf. They reveal secrets and renew their friendship.
People who should see this show:
Golfers (there seemed to be a lot of inside jokes)
People who don't mind sitting through golf jokes to see a good show.


The Gateway Theatre operates a police state. We entered through the wrong door, and were indulgently allowed to continue by a manager, but the volunteers who man the entrances to the theatre itself were very diligent, as were the ushers wandering through the theatre -- demanding tickets every time you cross their paths. There was a time when I would bring my stub with me every time I left a theatre, but no one ever cares anywhere else, so I stopped. I found it endearing -- who's going to sneak into a play in Richmond? This is not a Nickleback concert, but they don't seem to realize that and feel very protective of their theatre.

The audience was a mixed bag, and I wish the balcony had been open so we could have looked at them from a better vantage point. Perfume-soaked grandes dames of Richmond, kids on their first date, entire families. Interesting.

And then the play started.

It takes place on a golf course, and you watch the foursome go through each hole.

I don't like golf. I think it's a boring waste of time, and that even watching golf is better than actually playing golf, because then you don't have to be out in the blazing sun for 5 hours. I don't understand how anyone could possibly like it, and to this day, whenever someone suggests playing golf, I think first of minigolf and smile, then realize what they meant and the smile turns uncomfortable.

The play is all about male comeradery.

If there's anything that can make my smile even more uncomfortable, it's male comeradery. Once again, I don't get it. I am uninterested in emotionally repressed conversations and ill at ease with swaggering. I don't understand why people separate themselves socially according to gender -- except that I feel a-ok when surrounded by women.

So for the first few minutes I found myself debating whether to leave at intermission or before. But then it started to be better. The performances were really good, it was funny, and, for a male-bonding-golf-show, it was pretty universal. Growing apart from old friends sucks; friendships need to be fostered. When you need support, it is the people who know you best who can offer the best support. Perhaps I'm being maudlin because I ran into a friend I've grown apart from not ten minutes before the play.

I really enjoyed the play. The fist act was fairly quick, and cute, laying the groundwork. The intermission was too long -- 20 minutes? Come on, Gateway, we're not here to socialize. The second act had the apparently-obligatory Norm Foster epiphany, which was brief, poignant and passed in time to let us enjoy the humour, and the final twist was very enjoyable. Interestingly, the lighter the humour, the more belly-laughs it got, which has been my experience with Richmond audiences. Also, several people seemed to think they were watching t.v. at home -- seriously, people, use a whisper voice when commenting.

You should go. It was good, and got better as I thought more about it. Plays until October 24.

Some highlights:
David Thomson's Cameron: great physicality and great voice
The scene changes: excellent use of golf cart and bad rock
The song (December '63): the build up made it inevitable, and it was a crowd-pleaser.

Black Comedy -- Arts Club Theatre Company

Story in two Sentences:
A fuse blows on the most important night of Brindsley Miller's life. Everything goes wrong, and yet he somehow finds love.

People who should see this show:
People who only go to theatre to impress dates (like the guy beside us who ended up enjoying himself)
People who actually enjoy theatre

photo by Emily Cooper

This was an excellent evening.

What they didn't say (or not in print big enough for me to notice, anyway), was that it was a double bill. The main event was, of course, Peter Shaffer's one-act Black Comedy, but prior to that we were treated to a Chekov play, The Marriage Proposal. Probably a good thing they didn't advertise it too much -- who wants to go to a Chekov play?

Well, I do. This one, anyway. He wrote it before he got all depressing. It was short, only about 20 minutes -- an amuse-bouche, if you will, and my bouche was amused. It's a story of a wealthy landowner asking his neighbour for his daughter's hand, and a few fights they go through (she's feisty) before he gets around to it and she agrees. Kind of a stilted, dated story, wouldn't you say? Something to bear in mind for later if you're the type of person who does that.

Then, after a brief intermission ("Can we go now" asks the guy sitting on my right to his date, who is wearing an evening gown. "She's dressed up," the hag behind me points out to her gay. "It's not like I'm naked here," he protests.), comes the entree (if you will allow me to extend the metaphor a little more than it deserves).

Black Comedy is a brilliant farce, and Dean Paul Gibson has assembled a brilliant cast. The main gag of the show (the blackout) is funny enough, and the justifications for sustaining it are oddly believable. The real beauty, however, lies in the secrets we find out about people when they think no one can see them. The lighting convention we are introduced to early in the show helped considerably: knowing that everything I saw was intended to be kept secret from the other characters made it easier to accept peculiarities that would have been over the top otherwise.

Interestingly, although the actors are lit, I found myself paying much more attention to the nuances of their voices than I normally would, as though it truly were a blackout.

The play is a farce, and many characters are painted with broad strokes, as one would expect. However, first performed in 1965, the strokes are quite dated, and a little uncomfortable to watch: the philandering protagonist, Brindsley Miller, is much more likeable than he ought to be; the necessity of asking his fiancee's father for her hand is not even questioned. The only truly redeemable and fully realized charater is Clea, Brindsley's ex-girlfriend. She is charismatic, knows her mind, and gives back to Brindsley everything he gives to her. With the Madmen-era mores, we understand why he has asked a more compliant woman to marry him. Certainly it was easier on his chauvanism. Carol, a mod girl, is a whitewashed version of Clea, mocking conventions such as engagement, but still demanding they be upheld traditionally. Why, then, after Brindsley has revealed his true character in the dark, does Carol try to beat him and Clea protect him? I just don't know, but it was very funny getting to that point.

See it, especially if you're taking someone who doesn't want to go -- you may convert him. Plays until October 11.

Some highlights:
Ted Roberts' set design: really cool, trashy yet mod, exactly what you want a struggling artist's flat from the 60s to look like
Nicola Lipman's Miss Furnival: dazzling and hilarious, her final monologue is inspired
Charlie Gallant's Brindsley Miller: delightful acrobatics and convincingly immature
Sean Devine's Schuppanzigh: an excellent intellectual foil to the undercurrents of classism in the play