Last Year Was Last Year

Been thinking about our last year, calendar-wise. 2018.

It had its ups and downs, as most years do. I’d have to say, adding them all up, the downs won out. If anything, this last year taught me to really appreciate the normalcy of life – those days where life is just happily lived without worry.

It wasn’t a great year. But it wasn’t that bad, and brighter days are ahead.

There were a lot of upsides, though. My love for Karyn keeps growing deeper and wider. We spent more time together last year than ever before, and I’m happy to report that being together so much, even after 30+ years, it’s only made us a stronger couple. That’s nice! I continue to become prouder and prouder of my son, Cameron, as he dives headfirst into his passion of Island history. Added bonus, I get to perform with him in Popalopalots. I’m so thankful that he’s so great at improv, and that it isn’t just a position of nepotism and patronage that got him the gig. Of course, I could be blinded by that nepotism and only *believe* he’s good. Naw, he’s pretty great.

Late in the year, I got to produce four one-act plays I had written. I managed to gather together a baker’s dozen of talented people and we put on four shows over one weekend! I was/am totally thrilled with the results. Everyone was so great and all a joy to work with. The scheduling of rehearsals turned out to be a bit of a headache, but the rehearsals themselves were lots of fun for me, and I hope for everyone else. The audiences that came seemed to genuinely like it, and that’s always pleasant.

Early in December, we got a dog. A puppy. A Sheltie puppy. He was the fifth of five males in the litter. We named him Dughall, after the fifth son of Somerled, who was the first of the MacDonald clan in Scotland. I was taken totally by surprise at how much work an 8 week old puppy requires, and the first couple of weeks were a real challenge. It was love at first sight, for me, though, and things are going much better now. He loves the snow, but I can’t wait until he experiences spring and summer for the first time. It’s going to blow his mind away!!

I spent a little time wondering what was the best thing that happened to me this past year. And it didn’t take long to realize that the best thing for me didn’t actually happen to me. It happened to my father. Surprise of surprises, my father, 93 years old, got remarried. To a wonderful woman named Mary Alice. Now Mary Alice MacDonald. It’s been a joy to me to see them both so happy together, and a total comfort knowing that my elderly father has someone who cares so deeply about him, and for him.

My father has always been young at heart, but I swear, having Mary Alice in his life has given him so much joy and a renewal of spirit. Living alone in his own apartment, at his age, was a worry for me, and to have Mary Alice there with him now, and to see how well she looks after him, it is a huge and wondrous relief. I am eternally grateful that they found each other.

It staggers me how sharp my father is, especially in making genealogical connections between seemingly random people. He is a walking family tree. A Wikitreedia, if you will. This year, as in years past, I am truly humbled to have him as a father, as a role model, and as a friend.

Not only is Mary Alice a wonderful addition to our family, for my father’s sake. But she’s been instrumental in helping and assisting and encouraging me and my brothers. She’s been amazing in her devotion to helping my brother Kenny, who is battling cancer. Beyond the care she provides to family members, it’s been a true pleasure to get to know Mary Alice, and I’m sure we will remain lifelong friends.

So, let’s see what 2019 brings us.

Flying Away Dead & Boobs

Dave Stewart and I come up with all sorts of strange, funny-to-us, oddball things. One such thing was the idea of an old vaudeville comedy act called Flying Away Dead and Boobs. FAD was one character, Boobs the other. I cannot remember how we came up with the names, but it is a terrible name for a comedy duo. That is why we liked it so much.

Anyway, away in the drawers of my brain they sat. One day, in 2003, while trying to come up with a sketch idea for Sketch-22, I thought of a gag along the lines of Abbott & Costello’s Who’s On First classic, only using the names of local politicians of the time. And who better to present such a vaudevillian treat but Flying Away Dead and Boobs.

I started to write it, got only so far, and gave up. It went unused, mercifully. Here, though, for your edification and bemusement, is the script as it lay.

Boobs:  Well, Flying Away Dead, here you are, over 90 years old.  Did you think you’d ever see 2003?

FAD: Two thousand and three what?

{beat}

Boobs: So, Flying Away Dead, I hear you got a job in the government and you’re responsible for the daily waste watch disposal at the provincial legislature.

FAD: That’s right, Boobs.

Boobs: And somehow you managed to get some big wigs to help you sort out all the garbage at province house.

FAD: Oh, yes. Lotsa big wigs.  Lawyers and politicians.  Even the Premier of the province is gonna help.

Boobs: Really.  Well, I’d like to know more about who’s gonna sort your garbage.  For instance, who’s gonna be responsible for putting the waste in the black containers?

FAD: Binns.

Boobs: Oh, is that what you call them black containers?  Bins?

FAD: That’s right.

Boobs: So, who’s gonna be responsible for the waste bins?

FAD: Yes, totally responsible.

Boobs: Who’s gonna be totally responsible?

FAD: For the waste? Binns.

Boobs: Yeah, for them.

FAD: He sure will.

Boobs: Who will?

FAD: Binns.

Boobs: Yeah, that’s what I want to know.  What’s the name of the guy who’s taking the waste out to the black containers?

FAD: Binns.

Boobs:  Sorry…to the bins.  What’s his name?

FAD:  The name of the guy taking the garbage to the waste?  Binns.

Boobs:  And what would his name be?

FAD:  I just told you.

Boobs: No you didn’t.

FAD:  I did.  But I’ll tell you one more time…and I’ll speak slowly…This is the name… of the guy…taking the garbage… to the waste…Binns.

(pause as Boobs waits…finally:)

Boobs: What is the name of the guy taking the garbage to the waste?

FAD:  Binns.

Boobs:  Yes, the name of the guy taking the garbage to the waste bins.

FAD:  Now you got it!

Boobs:  I do?

———————-

Boobs:  Let’s say it’s Friday and everybody’s eatin’ fish.  Now, after the garbage is collected, somebody takes the unused fish out to the black waste container.

FAD:  Oh no, fish’d be compost.  That’s Scales.

Boobs: Scales is compost?

FAD:  He sure is.  Does a good job of it too.

Boobs:  Who does a good job of what now?

FAD:  Scales.

Boobs: Who does a good job of fish scales?

FAD:  Best I’ve ever seen!

Boobs: Let me get this straight.  Scales goes to the compost?

FAD:  Everyday.

Boobs:  Everyday?  What if there’s no fish that day?

FAD:  Scales will still go.

Boobs: To the compost bins?

FAD:  No, Binns for waste.

Boobs:  So scales to the waste bins?

FAD: That’s right.

Boobs:  Scales goes to waste?

FAD:  Scales to compost.

Boobs:  Even if there’s no fish that day?

FAD: Regardless.

Hey Diddle Diddle explained (NSFW)

Hey diddle diddle

The Cat and the Fiddle

The Cow jumped over the Moon

The little Dog laughed to see such sport

And the Dish ran away with the Spoon

Most everyone knows this poem, and assumes it to be a fun and frivolous nursery rhyme from our childhood. But upon doing a fair bit of research, I have discovered it might actually be a paean to female masturbation and empowerment.

Its first noted appearance in print shows up in the late sixteenth century collection entitled “Focke Ye And Th’orse Thou Rode ‘N’Upon and Other Bawdy Recytes“, which includes many risqué and bawdy poems and songs and odes whose content lay very far away from the purity and innocence of nursery rhymes.

Allow me to dig deeper into the interpretation of the lines of the poem.

Hey diddle diddle

This opening line, obviously, is a beckoning to engage in masturbation. Specifically, a beckoning to females. The word “diddle” has long been used as an euphemism for female pleasuring of oneself. (In literature, women tend to diddle while men tend to wank). In the 1548 poem “Ta Fine Ma Hoelay, Shav ma Poosay” by LawRence Benjamin, the speaker – a female heroine (uncharacteristically for the time) – emphatically urges women of all classes to diddle, or masturbate, with the line “Laydees auf all strypes, pull up thyne skorts and diddle thyne quim.” (There are some who say LawRence Benjamin was in fact a woman disguised as a man, in order to pursue her love of writing.)

So, in fact, the first line of this poem can be seen to be saying to women, specifically, “Come along, masturbate and masturbate some more!”

The Cat and the Fiddle

Since even before the rule of Cleopatra, the cat has been a symbol of female sexuality. It is believed the slang term “pussy” (for female genitalia) in fact originates from this era’s feline obsession. In Hierotomy’s epic poem Cleve Unto That Cat (840 BC), we see both inferences as the hero opines “I nary mean to anger the cat by getting it wet, but to moisten a pussy, well, that’s the fairer goal!“.

Likewise, the verb “to fiddle” can mean to bow or rub the strings (or fingers) of one’s hand vigorously across one’s genitalia. (To “hold the fiddle” means “grab the rigid penis – like a bow”)

So far, we now have this as a translation “Come along, masturbate and masturbate some more! Rub (or play) your vaginas with vigor, women.”

The Cow jumped over the Moon

Quite simply, this is a reference to a woman achieving a female orgasm.

In much in the same way it is impossible to imagine a cow jumping over the moon, in literature (and even science) before the 20th century, it was deemed impossible to imagine a female achieving orgasm. To imply such a thing was very much frowned upon, and so the more daring writers had to create phrases of innuendo when writing about the female orgasm. Phrases such as “rhyming orange”, “waking the dead”, and “jumping the moon” are but a few.

An example of this can be seen in this excerpt from the 1894 play by Rutger Tassleman, “Look Who I Found Under The Table“, banned until 1959 for its sexual and homosexual undertones.

Madame Chivesdale: I failed to see you at the Regency soiree last evening, my dear. Are you quite alright?

Lady Quincy: Quite! I became sidetracked and lost track of the time, shall we say. Such is the way with me when I jump over the moon. And last night my cow jumped twice!

Madame Chivesdale: Oh you lucky girl! If I could do that I’d never leave my boudoire! Who needs men then!

The little Dog laughed to see such Sport

Whereas the cat became synonymous with females, the dog is likened to the male of our species. “Little Dog”, then, means little man, or penis. For a little dog to laugh means it ejaculates. And why is it ejaculating? Because it is voyeuristically and excitedly witnessing a female orgasm. Here, the word sport can also mean spurt.

And the Dish ran away with the Spoon

An attractive woman is often referred to as “a dish”. “She’s quite a dish!”

It is believed this comes from the notion that the slightly concave nature of the vagina somehow resembles other concave items, like a dish. So, when someone says “she’s quite the dish”, what it really means is “she has an attractive vagina”.

So here, the dish is an obvious reference to a woman. And the spoon reference is most likely meaning a young girl, a smaller concave vagina.

Here, though, it’s used in a quite interesting, perhaps unexpected way. Here, the dish (woman) is running away. And it is taking the spoon (daughter) with it.

Does this mean the lady of the household is leaving her husband and taking their daughter with her? Quite an act of bravery or desperation for a 16th century woman!

Is this poem, then, an early example of a plea for female empowerment? Is it imploring women to take pleasure into their own hands? To live their own lives, outside of the constraints of male-dictated society?

I can’t answer that for sure, but it surely seems certain that Hey Diddle Diddle is a bit deeper and more meaningful than we originally believed, wouldn’t you say?

Come along, masturbate and masturbate some more!

Rub your vaginas with vigor, women.

It IS possible for you to achieve orgasm!

And while your lecherous, voyeur of a husband gets off on it

Take your daughter and run away! Free yourself!

Wherein Rob Decides Not To Date His Daughter

Wherein Rob Decides Not To Date His Daughter

When I die, many things could happen. My son Cameron could either simply delete the multitudes of files of unfinished, unstarted, half-notioned, or unseen stories, sketches, ideas that populate my Google Drive, or he could go through them all, one by one, and discover what a mad genius I was.

I suspect he’ll read through a couple of them, wonder how I ever made anyone laugh with my words, and then delete them all.

Perhaps that is why I’m presenting to the public some of the words I’ve written, before I die. Not to prove I’m a mad genius, but to have at least some of my unseen stories witnessed before Cameron callously deletes the oeuvre of my existence.

So, yes, I’m producing “Four One-Act Comedies Did By Rob MacDonald”, November 22nd to 25th at The Guild. Two of them have never been seen by anyone. One was seen by a smallish crowd one night over a dozen years ago, and part of one was added into a Sketch-22 season.

So, that’s the news. Other news is that I am not acting in any of them. I am only directing, and producing.

“Why are you not acting in any of them?” You may ask. I will answer.

I’ve written, and for better or worse, directed a lot of sketches over the years. I’ve acted in most of them. I’ve acted in productions that have been written, and directed, by other people. I’ve enjoyed all those experiences.

But I’ve never “just” directed. I’m curious to see how this affects the rehearsal process, and the end result.  I’m also curious to see how stuff I’ve written gets perceived when I’m not on stage to make goofy faces if the words don’t get laughs.

It’s kind of like letting your teenage daughter go out on her first dates.

A part of you would like to be at the restaurant table with them to influence the experience, to make sure it goes okay. To offer up a topic of conversation if there is a dip in the energy.

But another part of you wants your daughter to be her own person, to live her own life. In this situation, the plays are my daughters, and the actors are the dates I’ve entrusted to respect her and help her grow.

I guess the audience would be the waiter? Or maybe an Uber driver?

I admit it’s not a perfect metaphor. But just be sure of this: this time around I’ve made the conscious choice not to date my own daughters. Hmm, that doesn’t really sound too good does it?

See, it’s a file exactly like this one that Cameron might read when I am dead and decide “…nope, not worth saving.”

From The Journals of Det. Harry Callaghan SFPD

Idea: Come up with a cool thing to recite for if I’m ever in a situation where I’ve chased down a punk criminal, fired off a handful of gunshots during pursuit and then the bad guy falls down and his weapon is next to him, just within his reach and he has to make a choice as to whether to go for his gun while I stand over him with my gun pointed right at him.

DRAFT #1

Whew, that was crazy wasn’t it? Oh man, I am so pumped right now, chock full of adrenalin! Did any of my shots hit you? Are you okay? That’s good. I don’t think I got hit, either. Small wonder, all the lead that was flying around there. Hope nobody else got caught in the crossfire. Okay, I see you looking at your weapon there. You thinking of maybe picking that up and using it on me? Hmm, might work. To be honest I’m not even sure if I have any bullets left in my gun, so you might have a good chance. Or maybe I do have a bullet or two left and I’d kill you right here, right now. Tell ya what. I’ll let it be your choice. So, whattya say? Wanna roll the dice, figuratively speaking?

(Upon hindsight, this is way too wordy. Get to the point, Harry!)

DRAFT #2

That was mad nuts! Ah uh huh, don’t even think of going for that gun there. I’ll shoot you down if you do. That is, if I have any bullets left in this here gun here. (If he asks about the gun) This? It’s a .44 Magnum. Yeah, it does look pretty powerful. That’s because it IS! Bigger than your gun that I see you eyeing. You reach for that gun, chances are you gonna die! Just sayin’. So, you gonna flip a roll the dice, asshole?

(Like the “you gonna die”. Don’t get into a dialogue though. Too many unknown factors. Better pacing though)

DRAFT #3

Well, look at you, laying there on the ground. Not so tough now are ya? We both got caught up in some pretty wild emotion there, huh, firing guns all willy nilly. For all I know, this powerful .44 Magnum might be out of bullets right now. Not to give you any ideas, but you might have, maybe a 50/50 chance of getting away if you make a grab right now for that gun beside you. But I’ve never been good with odds, so you might be just as likely to get your head blown off. I guess your question to yourself is “Am I ready to flip that coin?” Hmmm?

(Willy nilly? Also, don’t give him the idea of going for his gun. Some good stuff there, but still not right. Like flipping a coin over rolling dice. Still showing too much respect to the punk criminal though)

DRAFT #4

Don’t know about you, but I kinda lost track of of how many bullets I have left. That gunfight was confusing in its excitement. You could go for a grab of your weapon there and I could try to stop you by shooting this .44 Magnum at you. Maybe it fires, maybe it doesn’t. It’s a really powerful gun – like, most powerful in the States right now. If I do fire, I’ll likely blow your head clean off. So it’s your choice. Pick up your gun or no? Feelin’ lucky enough to flip that coin? Huh, arsehole?

(Getting there, maybe. Find out about stats for Magnum’s power. Don’t give options. Treat the punk like the scum he is.)

DRAFT #5

I know, I know. With the excitement we just went through, I don’t know who has bullets left. Were you counting my shots. Maybe 5? Maybe 6? I don’t know. But this is a .44 Magnum, according to Gunshot Magazine, it’s the most powerful handgun in the world. Not just the states. The world. It could easily blow your head off. That is, if I have even one bullet left. So, how you feelin’? Feelin’ lucky, ya punk asshole?

(So close! One more pass at it and we might be there.)

DRAFT #6

I know what you’re thinking. “Did he fire six shots or only five’?” Well to tell you the truth, in all this excitement, i kind of lost track myself. But being that this is a .44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world, and would blow your head clean off, you’ve got to ask yourself one question: ‘Do I feel lucky?’ Well do ya, punk?

(I think that’s the one. Hope the situation arises where I can use that exact phrase at least once. Maybe even twice!)

Rob Reviews: Metis Mutt

Wow. Amazing. So impressive in so many ways.

That’s the title I’m thinking of going with when I produce and perform my one-person show.

And now that I’ve seen Metis Mutt, Sheldon Elter’s one-person show, I know what I need to aspire to in order to earn those accolades. This show, simply stated, blew me away.

The script is beautiful. It takes you on a somewhat expected journey (troubled person tries to become a better person) but never succumbs to story-telling cliche. Inventive transitions from moment to moment, story to story, easily kept me transfixed to what was happening, eager and hungry for what was to come next. Nothing wasted, nothing unnecessary, everything with a purpose and payoff. All manner of emotions are elicited  from the script, often turning from deep despair and hearthache to the relief of a joke or laugh, in a heartbeat. Wonderful.

The set design is simple and beyond effective. A background scrim displays images and  visual effects that effectively enhance the emotion of each moment and never becomes a distraction. Apart from a mic on a stand, and a simple wooden chair, the stage is bare, perimetered by a circumference of rocks, giving the allusion to a camping ground or sacred space. Simple and beyond effective.

The sound and tech design deserves special mention. The precision of sound, lights, and performance is breathtaking. Seriously, it’s like Formula One Pit Crew tight.  Actions and cues are perfectly simultaneous and one can’t help but be impressed. It’s a brave choice to attempt such precision, because if cues are late or early, I’m sure it would quickly take an audience out of the moment and extinguish the mood and emotion so carefully and masterfully built up.  Kudos to Elter, stage manager Erika Morey, and the tech person pushing the buttons to make it work so wonderfully. It’s Wonder of the World impressive.

Of course, the script and set design would be for naught if there wasn’t a performance to propel it all. And Elter is a master at telling this story.

Best show I saw this year.

800 Words On: My Insufferable Shyness

Where Rob Explores His Social Anxiety

Peanut Butter on Hot Dogs, and Being in a Cottage with, Gasp, Girls!

When I was perhaps 15 or 16, I had begun to hang out with new friends of my best friend, Paul. He acquired these new friends when he started going to a different junior high school than me. He went to Stonepark (and then Charlottetown Rural) while I went to Birchwood (and then Colonel Gray).

One of his new friends was a guy named Dean. Or Darren. I can’t quite remember now. I wasn’t crazy about him. He was a bit of a dick, but pretty harmless and we all hung out some over the summer. One of the perks of  Darrean, apart from the fact he had his own van, was that his family had a North Shore cottage and I got invited to spend a weekend with him and Paul and maybe another guy I can’t really remember. But no parents.

Other than boy scout outings, it was probably my first time away from home. I wasn’t nervous or anything. We arrived and had a pretty good Friday night, not too eventful.  None of us were drinkers (yet), so there was none of that. Saturday morning we woke up late and barbecued some hot dogs. Being in an adventurous mood, and looking through the bare cupboards, I decided to put some peanut butter on my hot dog in a bun, instead of the usual fixings. Well, it turned out to be a hit, everyone had to have peanut butter on their dogs. I had discovered a real delicacy and I was sitting on top of the world.

After an afternoon of lawn bowling at Dalvay By The Sea, tennis and swimming, we returned back to the cottage and gladly gobbled up more PB&HDs. We were all very much excited about how great they tasted.

It was after this that Dearran made his proclamation.

“I’ve invited some people over for a party tonight.”

What party? What kind of people?

I try to ask it casually.

“Just a few guys, and some girls from school.”

What school? The Rural?!? And girls? What? I don’t know these girls. I don’t know how to talk to these girls. I can barely talk to any girls! There’s a dirth of girls in my neighbourhood, you know! Didn’t Paul explain this to you?

I didn’t say this, of course, but it became all I could think about. Whereas a moment ago, I was The Guy Who Invented Peanut Butter On Hot Dogs, Cock of the Walk, suddenly I became instantly withdrawn, inwardly panicked. How would I ever get through this night? Girls.

Honestly, I don’t remember many specifics of the night. Just a few snapshots.

I remember not knowing any of the new people who arrived, and being very uncomfortable about that. I learned that night that when I get uncomfortable like that, I go very quiet and do not interact. It’s the first episode of panic-attack that I remember that was a direct result of being in a gathering that included girls.

I remember a couple of the girls – I didn’t know them, they didn’t know me – but they could tell I was very shy and uncomfortable, and good for them, they did try, in a nice way, to get me to open up and relax. But they had no idea – I had no idea – how powerful this social anxiety had grabbed a hold  of me.  I was basically a lump on the cottage couch. A tall, thin tree next to the refrigerator. All night long.

I remember one short moment – the tiniest sliver of being comfortable enough to engage in a conversation, one on one, with a girl. I am positive, as she approached me, she was merely being kind rather than having any interest in the sack of nerves that I presented. Impossibly, an easy conversation got underway. I told her about lawn bowling that afternoon, and she actually appeared to be genuinely interested.

Then I told her about putting peanut butter on hot dogs, and how awesome it was.

Now, she may have successfully feigned interest in discussions of lawn bowling, but talk of peanut butter on hot dogs – this she could not abide. She reacted strongly. The news spread around the cottage faster than the blood of embarrassment rushed to all visible parts of my skin. 

“This guy puts peanut butter on hot dogs! Gross!”

And there it was. It was over and I was done. No amount of back up from Paul and Darren and the possibly potential other guy I don’t remember could salvage this night.

It was me. I was the weird shy guy who puts peanut butter on hot dogs.

What do you expect from a Colonel Grayer.

Rob Reviews: Anne & Gilbert the Musical

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”Best year ever!”

 “The cast this year is amazing!”

 “New changes really work!”

 That’s the buzz that’s going around for this year’s production of Anne & Gilbert the Musical, playing at The Guild until the fourth horseman arrives.

“But what’s Rob’s buzz about it”, you ask. Read on!

 tl;dr – It’s really great, you should see it.

 It’s really great, you should see it. This is a very strong year for Anne & Gilbert the Musical, bouyed by a very strong cast, and sharp direction.

 That said, I’ve always had “story” issues with A&G. The first act is basically everybody waiting around for Anne to realize she’s in love with Gilbert. Not much else really happens. Second act is a new crop of characters waiting around for Anne to realize she’s in love with Gilbert. A bit of stuff happens. And through it all, anything that does happen seems to be through the veil of “how does this affect Anne’s ability to realize she loves Gilbert”.  Just a bit of an “Oh no, I lopped my hand off at the wrist! I wonder if THIS will make Anne see she loves Gilbert!” going on.

I guess, though, that’s the price of having your name in the title of the show.

 Thankfully, these “waiting around” parts of the show are full of wonderful songs, plenty of dancing, great acting, terrific dialogue and lots of fun.

 Now for the part that the actors skim to, to find their name in the review (assuming anyone bothers to read this at all)

 Rebecca Parent plays Anne to perfection. Willful, assured and in denial. That she finds 150 different ways to lie “I’m not in love with Gilbert Blythe” is a wonder.  And of course, a terrific singer.

 Josh Wiles, as Gilbert, adds a depth to Gil’s conviction of love that I often found lacking in other actors’ portrayals of the character. And it turns out that depth of conviction really adds an emotional investment and empathy, at least from this audience member’s perspective. And of course, a terrific singer.

 Rebecca Griffin wonderfully amps up the playfulness in Diana Barry. She is really good in this role, a pinnacle for future Dianas to attempt to emulate. If I was to have a very minor quibble, I would say I wasn’t quite as much a fan of her non-speaking portrayal of a tertiary collegiate student in Act Two. A bit too much comic face acting for my tastes.

 Like Rebecca, Melissa McKenzie as Josie Pye is phenomenal, a totally captivating presence whenever on stage.  Through her performance, because of the genuineness and believability she brings to the character, I realized, this time watching, that Josie Pye is really the only character who truly changes and grows, from beginning of show to end of show.   Am I wrong to find this sort of problematic, from a theatrical point of view?

 Morgan Wagner as Phillipa Gordon is, quite simply, masterful. Her talents make her a joy to watch.  And I suppose Phillipa is another character who changes in her time on stage, but her change is more an invention and convention of the plot than honest character growth.

 Brandon Howard Roy is a super Royal Gardner. Often played as a villain of the story, this performance was successful in bringing empathy to the character. In all the times I’ve seen the show, it’s the first time I felt bad for Royal when Anne dumps him.

 Shout out to Brennan Smith for his charming portrayal of Paul Irving. And kudos to the whole young company for being engaged and professional after 99 shows under your belts.

 Cathy Grant as Marilla Cuthbert and Margot Sampson as Rachel Lyndeh are both very good. I feel, however, that they don’t strike as much a chord of connection with audiences this year because of the overall heightened comedic choices in direction.

 Overall, Mark Fraser’s direction is on point. As is the choreography from Brittany Banks, and music direction from Aaron Crane. The show moves at a brisk pace, hits all the right notes, never drags.  It is truly a marvel of theatrics that so much happens in such a small, intimate space like The Guild.

I can’t fault Mark’s choice to amp up the comedic moments wherever possible, but a few times I think the comedy lessens the impact of some potentially emotional moments.

 If you’re a fan of this musical, or any musical, or a fan of theatre in general, and quality, professional theatre in particular, you really should go see this year’s production of Anne & Gilber the Musical.

It really is a very strong production and I have no doubt you’ll really, really enjoy it.

Rob Reviews Some Fringe

I’ve been on a theatre-watching binge this week. Anne of Green Gables the Musical, Jesus Christ Superstar, and then, Thursday night I dove into an Island Fringe Festival four-show marathon.

These are my thoughts:



First show I saw was Half A Star, written and performed by Justin Shaw and Benton Hartley, playing at the Charlottetown Legion (more on the venue later). Full-disclosure, both have been in Popalopalots Improv Comedy with me, still perform with us sometimes when they’re on the Island, and I even like one of them.


Half A Star is a brisk, quick-paced two-hander about a theatrical best-friendship that goes sour after the duo gets a Half-Star review in the Toronto Star. The show follows the journey as both explain what happened, what went wrong, and asks whether they can ever return to that friendship again.


It’s a smart, fun, snappy, thought-provoking piece of work. Both performers are easily up to task in their roles, and, while the show seems loose (there’s even a segment of improv), the dialogue is tight and quick, the performances effervescent. They are both on top of their roles, and on top of their games.  Some really nice acting moments from both of them, both individually and when together in a couple of more touching moments. And plenty of funny lines and moments too!
I have a couple of small gripes with the production.  Maybe not so small. I did find the blocking to be a bit much. A bit too much frenetic moving around the stage by both actors as they speak to the members of the audience. Often it worked quite well, but for some of it, there didn’t seem to be any motivation behind it, other than “moving for movement’s sake”. I also wasn’t a fan of the choice, when reprising their show that garnered the half a star, of playing themselves as bad, stiff, uninspired actors.  I think it’d have been more impactful if they both went uber-actor, acting the shit out of the dialogue of the play within this play, going way over the top, overplaying emotions rather than ignoring emotions as bad actors would. They went small with the bad acting choice, and I think it’d be much more fun to go big.


Small gripes. And neither took away from what is a really fun and really well-performed fringe show.  You should definitely see it.

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Second show I saw was The Satan Show, also at The Charlottetown Legion, written by David Stewart and Laura Chapin, directed by Stewart, and starring Chapin and Nicholas Whelan.  Full-disclosure: Dave is among my closest friends, we’ve created several things together, and he had me do a bit of dramaturgy on this show. Laura is someone I also know, and consider a friend.  I don’t really know Nicholas as a person, but am familiar with his drag persona Whatshername.


The Satan Show is about a woman named Susan who, in an attempt to find out why she’s such a hot mess, visits a psychiatrist who turns out to be Satan.  She blames Satan for all her faults, and Satan spends the rest of this funny play getting her to realize that people have choices and it’s up to us what choices we make.


This is a very funny play. Lots of terrific one-liners and throwaway lines from each character.  It actually has a good message, but isn’t about that message. Laura Chapin is something of a revelation in her role. She plays her wacky, weird, somewhat unhinged woman with balls out, full-steam ahead. She really looks like she’s relishing the freedom to be overtly stupid, smart, sexual, intoxicated, horny, and more. I was struck at how expressive her face is, a wonderful clown-like ability to express the the very apexes of various emotions just with her facial features. She was very funny.  And, when needed, she nailed the smaller moments too. Nicholas Whelan plays Satan much more subdued, as it’s written – the straight-man (so to speak) in this comedy pairing. His character is there very much to facilitate the wild swings of emotion that Susan offers and yet he manages to equal Chapin’s lunacy the couple of times the script calls for it. He does a great job keeping the show grounded, and absolutely nailed the many opportunities he had for funny lines, hilarious asides. The duo really does compliment each other really well.


They did have a couple of line hiccups the night I saw them, but they handled them like real pros, and it didn’t take away from the performances at all.  I whole-heartedly endorse this show and you should definitely see it.

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About the Charlottetown Legion as a fringe festival venue: I like the concept of this festival, of putting on plays in unconventional spaces. But they really need to be sure that the spaces want the plays in their space, that they respect what is happening.  This didn’t occur with either Half A Star or The Satan Show at the Legion. It was pretty much business as usual during both performances, with people maybe 30 feet away playing jackpot machines, conversations between patrons and barkeep happening at the bar. Just a real lack of respect (likely out of just not knowing) for the performances that were happening.  During Half A Star there were a couple of minutes where the bartender was counting change or something, which caused a continual clang clang clang of loonies and toonies clinking against each other. During The Satan Show, the karaoke people started to set up their equipment, maybe 20 feet away, dropping heavy equipment on tables, moving tables across the floor, scraping and noisy as they go.  Really, just not acceptable as a proper venue. Fortunately the shows are both very engaging and the disturbances are easier to ignore because of the great things happening on stage. Hopefully the venue improves as the festival goes on.

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The third show I saw on Thursday was Cocktails: Olivia Face, written and performed by Olivia Face, a drag personality well-known around our city and beyond.  Playing at The Luxury Market (a lovely Fringe venue), it’s really a story-telling journey through the life of the person who created Olivia – how they became who they are now. (I’m not sure if I’m supposed to share the real-life name of Olivia – if that’s a drag no-no, so I won’t, just in case)

I was not prepared for the seemingly endless stories of this life.  Wildly interesting stories, with many extraordinary mentions merely tossed off as throwaway moments – like the “oh by the way” casualness about living in a trailer at a mini-golf course. I’d love to hear more in depth explorations of some of these asides. The show is full of interesting and surprising revelations, plenty of funny lines and moments and a couple of pretty sober and horrifying stories.  Olivia’s face when she smiles knowingly after she’s said something and then waits for the audience to catch up is eternally charming.
My only criticism of this show is I wish it was shaped a bit better.  While I appreciated the off-the-cuff looseness of “what’ll I talk about next”, I couldn’t help but think how terrific this show could be if the stories were chosen in a structure that created a definite emotional or narrative arc from beginning to end.  I also found some of the stories, while still interesting, were vaguely told and ended without a punch or point. I was also surprised that there was really no insight as to how the personality of Olivia Face came to be. Again, I think if the show was sculpted a bit more, Olivia could find a way to make every moment of the hour very impactful and pointed.
But that’s not what this show is. Olivia stated that each iteration of her show through the festival would likely have different stories, and I really do appreciate that goal. I can easily endorse this show and, like the first two in this review, you really should go see Cocktails: Olivia Face.

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The final show of this long night was Realizations, playing at the Charlottetown Yoga Studio. Full-disclosure: My son Cameron is in this play, as are several people I know from, like, living my life.
This show is written by Kandace Hagen and directed by Rory Starkman.  Honestly, I was very wary to see this show. I was nervous about what I might see, based solely on the marketing for this play, which is nicely summed up by this quote: “‘Realizations’ is a transitional story that exposes the politics and negotiation of one’s sexual awakening in a culture controlled by heteronormativity. It explores the blatancies and nuances of rape culture, based on a series of true events.”
I guess I understand the reasons behind the choice to use this kind of language, but, except perhaps to a select group, I would assume for most this description is something of a turn-off.  


It definitely was for me.  It’s a very dry, very carefully crafted statement.  It is not very inviting. There’s no warmth in it. It’s something I’d expect to see in a grant proposal, but not as marketing for a play.  I was afraid I’d see a play full of statistics, long tedious monologues by overly-righteous and angry characters, and more statistics. I also get wary when productions declare themselves “important” – surely that is for others to decide, yes? Based entirely on the marketing, I was expecting to see something a bit tedious and self-important. So, yeah, I was hesitant.


The thing is, for me, the marketing really, really misrepresents what is presented.
Realizations is a terrifically written, excellently performed, expertly directed piece of work.  Despite the difficult and touchy subject matter, it is a warm, moving, touching, well-paced, engaging play that brings you into Molly’s world as they struggle to find out who they are.  Yes, there are plenty of moments of characters acting horrifically to one another, some scenes of simulated violence and sexual agression, but, again,
I thought the marketing – which warned of such things – was a bit overstated compared to what actually appears on the stage.  I suppose that’s because I’m a CIS white male, and personally haven’t been in situations depicted on stage. And while I found those scenes very effective and affecting, I was never in danger of needing to flee the room, or seek counselling, as was offered. In that respect, I realize this play wasn’t written for me. And  I understand that there are whole reams of people who have been in those situations, and the scenes would obviously affect them much more. So, yeah, I just talked myself out of that last point I was trying to make. Still, I’m trying to review this show through the critical eye I am stuck with, and feel it needs to be said.


Enough about the questions about how it was marketed. How was the play?  Like I stated above, I thought it was terrific. Smartly written. I was afraid at times early on that I was watching something scripted to be seen by high-school kids at an assembly, but the play quickly wrote itself out of those situations and found a really mature place to exist. Rory Starkman’s direction made sure the play never lapsed, continually and easily kept my rapt attention. Kudos to them for so successfully pointing this show on track and keeping it moving towards its end goal.


The acting from all involved is so very good.  Absolutely everyone nailed their performance. A play like this could easily be torture if not performed by capable actors (and, honestly, a bit of me expected to be tortured by some of the acting, but it was all so very good!)
Marli Trecartin (sorry if that’s not the correct spelling, but I find the font choice in the program hard to read) as Older Molly is very strong. Easy and affable, her very presence forces us to like her, to feel for her. Through many flashback scenes to the Younger Molly she remains on stage, an omni-present figure in this story being told.  She did a superb job of being present in these moments but not directing focus or attention towards her until the story demanded it. Really a great performance.
Hannah McGaughey (sorry, font issues) was amazing. Like, Oh My God good. Seemingly effortless transitions between wildly divergent emotions, in a heartbeat, and always nailing the performance, always right there in the moment. Honest and true, and charming, and despicable and infuriating.  I’m sure some of that is the excellent character created by Hagen, but it takes talent to translate the words into a real human character, and Hannah proved to be beyond capable.
I’m lumping Kate Dempsey (as Toni), Cameron MacDonald (as Ian, Ryan & Tommy), Sophie MacLean (as Izzy, Jessi & Austin), Richard Haines (as Old Man & David), and Rachel MacLeod (as Mom, Lydia) all together, not because they don’t all deserve their own special recognition for the wonderful performances they crafted, but simply because it would take too long to compliment each.  All of them were wonderfully on point with their performances and should each be commended for their good work. I did feel the male characters that Haines and MacDonald played were a bit one-dimensional (not in performance but in purpose), but that’s what their roles were about, so not really a problem. Well done, guys, in less-than-likeable roles. I fell in love with Toni. Found Izzy, Jessi and Austin to be unrepentantly charming. Was a bit underwhelmed by Mom, but absolutely enjoyed roommate Lydia.  All terrific. Kudos to all!
Which leaves Sam MacDonald.  I’ve performed with Sam a couple of times in comedic roles, and I’m sure he’d agree that he is not that experienced when it comes to acting.  Which is why it was such a shock – a wonderful shock – to me to see Sam’s Marcus enter later in the show and almost steal it. I am struggling to remember ever watching a more honest, simple, true, easy performance on a PEI stage.  I am coming up empty. I thought Sam was absolutely marvelous. Maybe part of it was direction and/or writing, but Sam totally nailed every moment as the jilted partner. I couldn’t get over how he took his time at times, to allow the emotion of the moment to affect him (ha, maybe it was just him trying to remember lines!).  His performance was just so nuanced, haunted, well-paced, honest and real. Was it just me, or do others feel like that too?

There is a tradition I hate in PEI theatre of rewarding a Standing Ovation to any old peice of theatre. I am often loathe to sit there, as those around me stand and applaud and cheer wildly something I don’t think deserves The Stand.  So, I take my Standing Ovations very seriously. This week, I gladly stood and ovated twice. The first was at Jesus Christ Superstar, and the second was at Realizations.
So, obviously, I think you absolutely should see this piece of theatre – not because it’s important, but because it’s great.

Rob’s 828 Word Review of Jesus Christ Superstar



I had never seen any production of Jesus Christ Superstar. I had heard some music from cast recordings and I didn’t care for it. Too fake-rocky or something. So going into the theatre to see the Confederation Centre of the Arts Charlottetown Festival production of JCS, I was prepared to not be impressed.


Well.


From the first note from the orchestra – which was amazing and brilliant and tight (and totally rocked when it was called for) – to the wonderful use of the beautiful set, to the last fade out from the exquisite lighting design, I was absolutely, totally, entirely transfixed and hooked and absorbed. I was surprised by how much I loved this production.
Seriously, it is the most impressive piece of theatre I’ve ever seen.  (And I’ve seen the Star Trek episode snippet from Raised on TV 2!!)


I cannot imagine the cast performing any better than they did. I was wondering whether the Wednesday night performance I saw was one they high-fived themselves for afterwards, or was it simply run of the mill for them. At absolutely every moment, everyone on stage, absolutely everyone, seemed to be one-hundred percent invested in what they were doing, totally committed to what they were doing in each and every moment. I kept watching the players in the ensemble, amazed at how “into it” they constantly were. When performers who are playing characters who may not have names are busting their asses so hard and adding so much to every scene they are in, well I truly appreciated that.


Lee Siegel as Judas was the first to knock my socks off. (At the beginning of the show, I was wearing maybe two dozen pairs of socks in my sandals, and by the end I was barefoot). First of all, his voice is beyond incredible. My words cannot do it justice.  His personality on stage is magnetic, you are drawn to him. He is a fierce performer. So impressed.
Aaron Hastelow as Jesus Christ is terrific. Again, what a voice!  There are a few times when he reaches notes that must be at the extreme end of his upper range, and I got goosebumps. He was great throughout but really shone during the second act. I can’t believe I’m about to write this, but in this performance as Jesus Christ, Aaron Hastelow absolutely nails it.
Greg Gale as Caiaphas has an impressively booming bass voice, perfectly suited for the character, whose domineering presence is supremely enhanced by costuming. He was my wife’s favourite. One of my problems with genres like rock opera is that sometimes people have to sing lines that just don’t sound like they should be sung. Lines of dialogue that don’t scan into any musical rhyme scheme, but nonetheless must be sung. His character, I think, perhaps has the most lines like that, and he does an excellent job with them.
Brendan Wall as Pontius Pilate was great, and every line and movement from him hinted to me at some sort of mischievous backstory for the character. That Pilate guy has a lot going on, I’m guessing, and I appreciate Brendan’s talents to make me wonder more about the character (as portrayed by him).  That he looks a bit like Morrissey only adds to the character’s mystery.
Cameron MacDuffee as King Herod – and his accompanying posse – is wonderful and fun as the show takes a bit of a left turn into burlesque and comedy.  A friend of mine said they wished this portion of the show could be performed twice in a row so they could catch all the wonderful action that is going on, and I agree.
Hailey Gillis has some really lovely moments as Mary Magdalene, especially when alone with JC.  
(The female voice is vastly under-represented in this show, but that’s the problem when history is written by men. Kudos to the casting for finding ways to bring women into more roles than the writers – or history – probably intended.)


I cannot stress enough how wonderful absolutely everyone in the cast were in the performance I saw.  Honestly, I cannot imagine the production being performed any better than what I saw.


Which brings me to its director, Adam Brazier.  This guy! I don’t know how he does it. He seems so casual and relaxed when I speak with him.  Then he turns around and creates another production that blows me away with artistry, beauty, emotion and power. We really do have someone special in our midst here, and I am humbled by his artistry.
This production raises the bar on what we should expect from the Charlottetown Festival going forward.


I know PEI doesn’t have any awards for theatre, but if we did, what Adam Brazier and all the creatives involved in putting this show together would easily win all the awards.
Except for the Top Pop Award for Improv – that would go to someone from the Popalopalots – not me though, I never with Top Pop.