Possible Worlds, written by Governor-General’s Award-winning playwright (and U of T Math grad, who consulted on and appeared in the film Good Will Hunting) John Mighton, is a tricky piece of theatre. It presents itself as a sci-fi love story set loosely in the midst of a 1950’s-style whodunit detective drama. The plot begins with two run-of-the-mill detectives investigating a bizarre string of murders in which the killer skillfully extracts the brain of each victim. While the bumbling cops search for clues to crack the strange killings, the audience is introduced to the even stranger romance that exists between Joyce (Elsa Michel) and George (Blain Watters).
George is special. Where most humans experience only one reality and only one outcome of a choice, George-much like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day-finds that he can live the same situations over and over again, and each time entertain a different set of possibilities. So while Joyce rejects George in one world, and then throws herself at him in the next, the two detectives remain hard on the case of the missing brains. Their investigation begins to pick up when the detective duo become suspicious of the mysterious Dr. Penfield, a neurologist who creates simulated realities inside of disembodied rat brains, and who seems to have a sinister connection to George’s unique condition.
While containing more than a few redeeming attributes, Hart House’s production of Possible Worlds ultimately falls short of being a stellar show. Keeping with the main theme of the play, it would be great to go back in time and experience the performance again, but this time with a different actress playing the role of Joyce. In telling a love story, it is very important that the audience understand why the characters are in love with each other. As Joyce, Elsa Michel is never able to make her character likeable. This makes George’s infatuation with her come across as illogical, unenthusiastic and fake. Michel is easily at her best when Joyce gets angry with George, but even when lovers fight there should still be some spark of passion between them, and here, sadly, there is none.
As a result, Watters is forced to overcompensate with a heroic attempt at creating some kind of chemistry between the two of them. Unfortunately, I eventually found myself asking the clichéd question: What the hell does he see in her? The audience should be wondering how they could possibly be apart instead of why they’re even trying to be together.
Despite the onstage chemistry issues, Possible Worlds did contain some interesting and note-worthy performances. John Walker, who played Dr. Penfield, did an excellent job of taking the caricature of the ‘mad scientist’ and transforming it into a haunting and powerfully reserved character. Walker’s surreal interrogation of George stood out as one of the strongest scenes in the play and was tactfully reminiscent of legendary playwright Harold Pinter’s Interview.
Len Ferstman and Richard Rotter provided the show with some lighter, more comedic moments with their portrayals of Berkley and Williams, the two bumbling detectives. The best of these scenes was Williams’ uneasy conversation with a disembodied rat brain left under his supervision. Though paying huge homage to the ‘private dick’ stereotype, it was thankfully surprising to see that Mighton stopped short of having Williams deliver lengthy interior monologues about booze, dames and ‘the Windy City.’
Taken as a whole, it would be wrong to dismiss Possible Worlds as a bad play. The plot is well-constructed, and David Jermyn’s direction is at times quite intelligent and moving. The fatal flaw is the lack of real passion between the central characters of George and Joyce. With the absence of chemistry between the two of them, it is very hard to believe that she could be the object of so much of his mental attention. And given that this is a play that centres around the head and the heart, in the end, this production doesn’t quite find the right balance between the two.
