Through rain, heat and more rain, the 20th Annual Toronto Fringe Festival threw down a mixed bag of theatre, dance, and comedy this year. The annual juried fest is bound to offer up its hits (and misses), but this round saw a remarkable variety of talent from here and abroad. Some say that the growing selection of performances makes it harder to solidify one’s fringe-ing addendum—nevertheless, we here at The Varsity had fun and plenty of it! Even though there were some skip-its, nothing beats a good find—and that’s all part of the hunt.
The Swearing Jar
Tarragon Theatre Mainspace
With a completely loveable cast and witty dialogue, Kate Hewlett’s latest offering is sweet but ultimately unsatisfying. The script only begins to mine interesting questions surrounding truth and intimacy between a married couple—Simon and Carey—without getting closer to the difficult aspects. Instead, Hewlett provides a lot of banter and character details that make for a warm but uncommitted play. Particularly compelling is the performance of Chris Stanton, whose portrayal of Carey’s romantic interest, the bookstore clerk Owen, reaches new heights of appealing awkwardness. —NS
Rating: VVV
Putz
Tarragon Extra Space
It’s difficult to explain writer/performer Andrew Bailey’s strange charisma. It has something to do with the incredible vulnerability he shares with the audience in this hour-long one-man performance. Under the strong hand of director (and, um, “artist”) Jacob Richmond, Putz tells the stirring and hilarious story of Bailey’s journey from boyish naiveté to a more mature state of mind. Particularly effective are the scenes where Bailey recounts events by saying something inappropriate (“If I only had the man juice…”), or his interpretation of God blowing his own mind after having only been alive for one minute. A few moments feel almost stifling in their intimacy, but Bailey’s risks pay off because he never leaves the spectator stranded within his own world. —NS
Rating: VVVV
The Exploding Breakfast
Factory Studio
Sometimes you haphazardly stumble upon an unexpected gem. At 11:30 p.m. on a Wednesday night, Perth, Australia’s Ingle Knight seemed surprised to see a very small gathering at the Factory Studio. Nevertheless, his lively storytelling of a true-life stint at a playwright’s unit in Johannesburg was part Tom Robbins, part Samuel Beckett—as Knight expertly portrayed a cast of characters so vivacious and intriguing you never wanted him to stop. —CL
Rating: VVVV
Gameshow: The Musical
Royal St. George’s Auditorium
For sheer fun, Gameshow takes the cake. It may not feature the greatest vocalists, but the cast is uniformly energetic, maintaining a keen sense of irony throughout the performance. Following the rise of Bobby, a small-town gameshow enthusiast, the musical scrolls through a bunch of comical situations including a memorable trip to the library. The set and costumes are fantastic, with all the characters dressed to the nines in primary colours. Gameshow’s good acting and tight writing more than make up for the fact that three-quarters of the cast don’t have strong singing chops. The co-dependent relationship of the Spiker twins is the play’s definite highlight, as their one-liners keep the audience in the palm of their hands. Gameshow: The Musical has been selected for NOW Magazine’s “Best of the Fringe Festival” series going on at the Diesel Playhouse, which means there will be two more performances on July 20th and 27th at 5:30pm. —NS
Rating: VVVV
Jew for a Day
Royal St. George’s Auditorium
Oy gevalt—I don’t even know where to begin. A charming idea is marred here by some of the most patently heavy-handed writing in combination with surprisingly bad acting. The play itself is about a 13 year-old boy named Fred who decides he wants to be Jewish due to his outsider attitude. The problem with the script is not its premise, but the earnest and reductive way in which the whole topic of religion and identity is treated. If there’s one bright spot in the production, it’s when Rabbi Jacobs (played by writer and director Mark Farmer) relates to Fred his desire to be a Mountie, complete with red serge jacket and felt hat. Other than that, skip this play unless you have an unshakable desire to hear the worst Yiddish accent of all time. —NS
Rating: Vv
Rum and Vodka
Tarragon Extra Space
Ever had one of those weekends where you drink too much, do some unbelievably stupid things, then drink a little more? Believe me, it won’t hold a candle to the anti-protagonist in Conor McPherson’s gritty diatribe. Tightly directed by Shaun McComb, Rum and Vodka unspools three drunken days in the life of a young Irishman, sick of his petty office job and domestic life. Funny and darkly honest, it is Matthew Gorman’s violently controlled performance that gives the play its urgency and pace, rather than simply relying on the frenetic tone of the text. This production lives up to the reputation of its titular drink that, as one character suggests, has the ability to revive the dead. —NS
Rating: VVVV
Lupe: Undone
Honest Ed’s Alley
Tucked away in a garbage scented alleyway behind Honest Ed’s, Lupe, a spicy Ticket King salesgirl and part-time mattress stuffer, waits for her “boyfriend” David Mirvish with a saucy surprise. Instead, she’s greeted by 40 dumbfounded Fringe-goers shielding themselves from the rain. But when life gives you lemons, you apparently give the audience chips and salsa. While veteran actress Melissa D’Augustino was a charming and able-bodied character actor, it’s hard to relate to a plot where literally nothing happens. Too much of Lupe was spent on set pieces—shimmying to Gloria Estefan, asking the audience for feedback on her self-esteem (“Should I learn to love myself? Ole!”), Charo-esque displays of othered culture. A unique Fringe experience, but not a great one, these writers need to learn that when your show rests on one titular character, it’s good to have some development. —CL
Rating: VV
Totem Figures
Glen Morris Theatre
TJ Dawe’s most recent autobiographical monologue is fashioned around what Dawe describes as his own personal mythology and the characters that exist as a motif within his life. An interesting, although painfully derivative piece, it’s not exactly impressive that the most compelling parts of his story are anecdotes about the likes of Charles Bukowski and John Fahey—two of his personal “totem figures.” Dawe is a friendly and charismatic performer that strikes upon moments of real poignancy, but the subject of retrospective self-monologuing comes off as unsatisfying. Dawe wants us to think about ourselves and our own totem figures, to try and piece together the people and things in our lives that would go on our own personal Sgt. Pepper album cover, as he so charmingly called it. —NS
Rating: VVVv
The Pharmaceutical Affair
Robert Gill Theatre
While there was much to appreciate in this innovative approach to the classic Tintin model, the young company of The Pharmaceutical Affair, comprised of students from King’s College, had difficulty moving beyond an immature approach to the canon. Concerned with stopping the evil Hanz Von Sanchez (Tim Butters) from launching a dodgy new drug called Gagex, the story bordered on cheesy, but not excessively so. Although some of the acting felt a bit belabored, an excellent touch was Peter Gorman as DJ Peter Mozza Sticks, providing music and occasional French narration. While The Pharmaceutical Affair never lacked in imagination and energy, it would have benefited from a stronger satirical hand in both the script and staging. —NS
Rating: VVV
One-Woman Show
Robert Gill Theatre
Playing with the conventions of oh, 30 per cent of the current Fringe lineup, was the Shehori Brothers’ (Swiss Family Robinson) satire of the old theatre standby: the empowered female actress’ realization that self-acceptance is the greatest gift of all. Playing 37 year-old Eileen Louise Kennedy was Marco Timpano, clad in Mark’s Work Warehouse and noonday scruff, with a flutter of the wrists and a lithe gait. While the jokes about PMS and reducing the number of men you’ve slept with (apparently it has to do with carrying the one and making a threesome divisible by pi) were standard fare, Timpano’s delivery and the whip-smart writing did Gloria Steinem proud. Full marks! —CL
Rating: VVVV
