Fair Fort York

Site-specific theatre is a unique opportunity, particularly when it features as distinctive a locale as Toronto’s historical garrison, Old Fort York. Crate Productions, whose two previous site-specific plays include Stephen Belber’s Tape—a snappy psychodrama that maximized the claustrophobic, semi-rundown Gladstone Hotel to great effect—and Adam Rapp’s disturbing Blackbird, staged in an abandoned Yonge St. apartment.

Their latest offering, The Fort at York plays with the same premise of location integration, but while it seems fascinating in concept, the production itself flounders on occasion due to a lack of objective and economy. Written by Dora awardwinning playwright Tara Beagan, Fort is a grandly ambitious project that fails to fully resonate because of its sprawling subject matter. Clocking in at nearly three hours, the production is far too long and meandering in its pace.

At the outset, the audience was divided into four groups and escorted around the fort by uniformed conductors. Obviously, a show of this magnitude requires extreme planning and timeliness (which the company carried off commendably), but there was a definite sensation of “school field trip,” which may or may not have been the intention. As we moved from site to site, guide and co-director Chris Reynolds offered historical details surrounding the 1813 attack by American soldiers on Fort York, even illuminating us on the nature of the smell (friendly neighbourhood abattoir) that occurred partway through one of the earlier scenes beside a campfire. It was certainly fun travelling like this, but it caused the pacing to so pointedly drop that it diminished the actual drama of the story—where The Fort at York needed the most clarification.

Comprised of a series of diversely located vignettes, scenes, and monologues, the story revolves around a risky plan to remove an officer’s wife from the garrison prior to the morning battle. Seen from the eyes of several different men (and one woman), we’re able to exist as ghosts within this past world—ghosts that Beagan incorporates in a slightly convoluted way. In several instances, a troubled soldier speaks directly to the audience as a means of connecting the past to the future. Few of the scenes really crackled with urgency, and I couldn’t help but wonder why so many of the characters seemed to be suffering from delusional breakdowns. Nevertheless, Beagan’s text was lyrical and the characters appealing, but it needed editing to really give the characters and storyline more vitality. Highlights included some fine performances from Cole J. Alvis as an earnest young private, Scott Clarkson as a passionate soldier whose love for an officer’s wife inspires him to bravery, and Jeff Legacy as the sole Native resident William Sawyer, whose resolve and daring help carry out the rescue plan. Co-directors Chris Reynolds and Tara Beagan must also be mentioned for their inventive staging and composition within the challenging conditions—the scenes never failed to look fabulous.

The best thing about The Fort at York was the solidarity of the company, and the obvious work, attention, and innovation that went into producing it. The sheer spectacle was also appreciable, with most of the scenes lit either by firelight, flickering lanterns, or the distant ambience of the Toronto skyline. What it lacked in tightness, it made up for in tenderness, and allowed much room for reflection—even if the temptation was to indulge in contemplation during the slower moments of the show itself.