“If you don’t take any risks, then you don’t get any chances” Ben Blais states bluntly. Blais is a founding member of Dropship Productions, a new force in Toronto’s independent theatre scene whose refreshingly new approach to stagecraft is gaining momentum.

“It’s about taking away the idea that theatre is intimidating and only for certain people,” said Blais about Dropship’s quirky crusade to revive Toronto’s somewhat stiff theatre scene.

Blais decided recently that the majority of young people no longer see theatre as a viable source of entertainment. He says that, while most teens and twenty-somethings could easily be coerced into checking out a new indie band at the Horseshoe, few would be up for heading a few blocks west to catch an underground production at Theatre Passe Muraille.

“Kids won’t bat an eyelash and they’ll go and see a battle of the bands, which could be awful, but then there’s all this theatre going on and a lot of them don’t even know about it.”

Why the disconnect? Blais chalks it up to a number of outdated conventions he and the rest of the Dropship crew-including cofounders Joe Dinicole and Mac Fyfe, and Sebastian Pigott who was brought into the fold last year-are out to fight.

“When you go to the theatre it’s sit down, eyes front, no talking, face forward,” Blais passionately rails.

His vision for a new brand of theatre is more relaxed, more social: “you come in and it’s more like a cabaret, you sit at a table and you can chat with your friends and the quality of the show is so engaging and good that we don’t worry about people talking during the play, because they can’t help but be interested. Afterwards there’s some music, a live band, some jazz to facilitate that comfortable environment. It’s very inclusive and accessible.”

Blais hopes Dropship’s approach will draw a wide audience, comprised of dedicated actors, writers, theatregoers and scenesters alike.

Dropship Productions came together two years ago when Blais, Dinicole and Fyfe “decided to stop whining about stuff not happening and to get up and do something.” That something turned out to be a professional production of Harold Pinter’s absurdist classic The Dumb Waiter. After a string of sold-out performances at their alternative venue, the Whippersnapper Gallery, the three realized that they had created something that could outlast a single production, something that could shift the way people engage in theatre.

Blais notes that the struggle for reinvention has always been a part of modern theatre. “You had guys like Samuel Beckett who fucked with the conventions. He did a play called Breath which is 30 seconds long. There was a breath, and then the lights came down and that was it. Everybody got really fucking pissed, and they all wanted their money back, but that was the beginning of this idea of doing stories that engage people without all this fanfare.”

To test out this new and improved formula, Blais and company created a night called Upstart Cabaret that combines theatre with live music performances and encourages drinking, socializing and dancing.

Its fourth incarnation, Upstart Cabaret IV, happens this Wednesday at the Gladstone Hotel (1214 Queen St. W.) and will feature a production of Admiral Dink, a new play written by Pigott and directed by Fyfe. The play stars Trevor Wilson, David Tompa and Kate Gordon, and will be followed by live music courtesy of The Dropship Daddies, who promise to “revisit the rhythm and soul of the late 50s and early 60s.”

Blais, who seems to have an infinite amount of energy, also helms a unique night aimed at developing original scripts and the cold reading skills of young writers and actors. The night, called Sing For Your Supper, happens once a month (the next one’s Feb. 5) in the back room of the Sparrow Restaurant (92 Ossington Ave.).

“It’s a challenge to both writers and to actors,” Blais explains, “how do your words stand up to a cold reading, is your dialogue engaging, are your relationships believable, are your characters real and layered?” All of this comes out in the wash as participants are cast on the spot to read and workshop the plays in front of everyone else.

“You show up at 8 o’clock and I’ll give you a play to read, and you read it an hour from then.”

After the performances comes a time to talk, reflect and work on the pieces just presented. Blais is quick to point out that this casual workshop is “a collaborative networking environment, rather than a schmoozefest.”

With the newfound popularity of Toronto’s still-burgeoning independent music scene, it’s definitely refreshing to hear about a renaissance of sorts in underground theatre. If their success so far is anything to go by, Blais and Dropship might make good on their noble quest to level the playing field and bring back popular theatre in Toronto.

For more information about Dropship Productions, and their various endeavors head on over to www.dropshipentertainment.com