'Good Morning Viet Mom' is a wake-up call to call your mother - review by Joe Szek

By Joe Szek

Cahoots has billed this world premiere of ‘Good Morning, Viet Mom’ as authentic and irreverent. Franco Nguyen travels to Vietnam to look for inspiration for his first feature film and he finds an unexpected subject, his mother. Mr Nguyen then delves into the personal and shares stories about visiting Vietnam for the first time and being re-introduced to the mother he thought he knew.

This was my first visit to the Native Earth Performing Arts Centre, and it took me a few minutes to find the Studio. The Aki Studio is a larger black box theatre which worked extremely well for this production. There weren’t many audience members in attendance at this matinee, but the threat of nasty weather of blowing snow and high winds could have kept potential theatre goers away.

A shame there weren’t more as Mr. Nguyen has written a beautiful, funny, and poignant tribute about his family with all their weaknesses exposed. Who’s to say that any family is picture perfect?

Christine Urquhart’s set design was very simple. From my seat, it looked like a shag carpet was angled to one side. There was a TV set that would sometimes broadcast a black and white scene (I couldn’t tell if it was something from Vietnam) and then the tv would then receive interference. I bet you there aren’t many of us who remember when television sets used to get interference with the rabbit ears?

There is a suspended rectangular frame tilted to one side with another screen behind. During the performance, Mr. Nguyen straightens the rectangular frame.

Messrs. Abalos, Nguyen and Gamotin have written in their Directors’ Note they are or will become fathers very shortly. If anything, I’m almost sure this production would be a labour of love not only for these three gentlemen but also for all who worked on this production. Why? Even thought I’m not a parent, family members and close friends have told me (and I have seen) having children changes life and the family unit becomes even more important.

And how true it is family is of importance to me, and this production strongly underscores this. Mr. Nguyen narrates to us how his mother and father came to Canada, were married, and eventually divorced. Nguyen also narrates how he was, at times, an ‘average’ teenager who wanted nothing to do with his parents as he felt he knew better than they did .

Clad in a comfortable looking pullover sweater and I think khaki pants (but couldn’t tell from the back of the house), Franco Nguyen is a solid, likeable performer. He cordially invites the audience to journey with him and makes us feel very comfortable when he flashes his smile to us the first time. It was amusing to see his mother and father brought to life in Nguyen’s characterizations with his face and his eyes. I liked the moment where he narrates to us when his mother changes the locks on their door and father cannot enter and keeps knocking at the door. Nguyen switches back and forth from mother and father quickly which added a lot of humour to the situation but underscored even more how sad it was that the parent’s marriage slowly eroded away.

I like to sit near the back of the house as I want to know if the performer can be heard clearly. I could hear Mr. Nguyen clearly during his one-hour monologue. To perform a one-hour monologue is hard work as a natural sounding pacing is of the utmost importance to sustain audience interest. Mr. Nguyen achieved what he set out to do. Thankfully there are moments to watch on a projection which allowed him a quick opportunity to drink water before he continued.

The only slight quibble I did have was the fact there were a few moments where Mr. Nguyen maintained a static vocal level in his narration of events. It was extremely warm in the auditorium. When you combine warmth, heavy clothes because it’s winter and listening to a one level vocal tone, what could invariably happen? My attention span faltered a bit and I could feel my eyes closing. As ‘Good Morning, Viet Mom’ continues to tour out west, it might be a good idea to monitor temperature control in the auditorium.

‘Good Morning, Viet Mom’ is a life affirming tribute to those ladies who gave each of us an opportunity to experience life, our mothers. Thumbs up to this one and thank you for a most enjoyable afternoon at the theatre.

‘Good Morning, Viet Mom’ continues to March 3 at the Aki Studio in the Native Earth Performing Arts Centre, 585 Dundas Street East, Toronto. For further information please visit the website or telephone 416-203-9000.

Running Time: approximately 60 minutes with no intermission

'The Father' delivers a gut punch - Joe Szek reviews Coal Mine Theatre's production

By Joe Szek

Occasionally, a play will probably gut punch an audience so hard emotionally it might be hesitant in applauding during the curtain call because it seems so out of place, or so wrong to do so. From my experience, I’ve discovered that if this occurs, it means the actors and the entire team have succeeded in their task. Members of the audience will probably end up not being able to speak or be extremely quiet while they quietly sort through what they have just seen.

Tonight, this occurred for me in seeing The Coal Mine Theatre’s extraordinarily moving and par excellence ensemble production of ‘The Father’ by Florian Zeller.

The intimate venue of The Coal Mine Theatre lends itself extremely well to this haunting story of what it made me feel very keenly what it would be like to suffer from Alzheimers or dementia. And in the outstandingly, remarkable directorial hands of Coal Mine Chief Engineer Ted Dykstra, this near flawless production moved me so many times and continues to do so two hours later.

Anna Treusch’s set design fluidly became several places with a simple moving, pushing or lifting of tables and chairs. Before the show begins, there are two doorways up right and up left for entrances and exits. A circular table with three chairs and a lace table cloth can be found up centre stage. There is an ottoman down left and a table with a lamp and phone. Angled down stage right and to the left is a chair with a tartan looking throw over the back. A bar and drinks table can be found next to the doorway up stage left.

I loved Richard Feren’s sound design of grand orchestral music at the top of the show with the musical selection as the audience left the auditorium. For me, grand orchestral music captures a sense of grand dignity.

To parallel this sense of grand dignity are six impeccable actors who delivered genuinely natural performances and, through, their characterizations, are all forever changed by watching, feeling, seeing, hearing and listening to the effects of the dreaded diseases of Alzheimers and/or dementia. Apologies at this point if I mention some spoilers in the next few paragraphs.

Eric Peterson is magnificent to watch as Andre, the central character. We enter Andre’s world and feel his pain, his anguish, his embarrassment, his humour, his wit and his charm given the context of the moment where the disease takes him. I marvelled how Mr. Peterson channeled so much energy while remaining simply seated in his chair. Instead he uses this energy and we see so much of the decline of his characterization through his eyes. It might be a tired cliché to use here again, ‘the eyes are the window to the soul’ but Mr. Peterson uses his eyes and facial expressions to convey the multitude of raw emotions Andre experiences. A tour de force.

As Andre’s daughter, Anne, Trish Fagan realistically captures a torn, heartfelt daughter who is pulled in all directions. Anne wants to ensure her father is alright while ensuring that she too is also entitled to some of her own happiness in life. Beau Dixon as Anne’s husband, Pierre, becomes that constant reminder to Anne, and to all of us, that yes we are to enjoy some of life’s happiness if we have earned that chance and opportunity. I was shocked at one point, nevertheless, when Mr. Dixon, as Pierre, confronts Andre to ask if he is possibly feigning his illness as he does not want his daughter to leave Paris and live in London. Sometimes in life’s trials, one has to ask/demand answers to tough questions and Mr. Dixon reminded me that we do have to be tough.

Oyin Oladejo is the sweet caretaker, Laura, who is bravely determined to make sure she can help take care of Andre (on his good and not so good days) while Anne is able to leave her father alone. Paul Fauteux and Michelle Monteith as the Man and Woman intrigued me quite a bit each time they appeared since they are not who they are when they say they are. (I hope that made sense) There was an element and sense of dread in trying to figure out if these people were from Andre’s confused state of mind. The underscored music also heightened the tension of the moment. Ms. Fauteux’s alone moment with Andre as his daughter leaves was heart stopping to watch but had quite an impact as I heard many people around me gasp (and yes, so did I).

I would bet that Coal Mine’s production will probably be nominated for some Dora awards this year. The social justice issues of examining dignity confronting a debilitating and ultimately life destroying disease has been handled with great respect in ‘The Father’. Beg, borrow or plead to get a ticket and to see true ensemble perfection.

Performances continue to March 3 at the Coal Mine Theatre, 1454 Danforth Avenue, Toronto. Visit the website or call 1-800-838-3006 for ticket availability.

‘The Father’ runs 90 minutes with no intermission.

Joe Szek review: Sting's 'The Last Ship" carries a poignant and relevant message

By Joe Szekeres

‘The Last Ship’ sailed triumphantly into the Princess of Wales Theatre on its opening night, and what a tumultuous welcoming reception it received with a standing ovation at the curtain call. This entire company is stellar. Beg, borrow, ask, demand and try to get a ticket if you can.

Inspired by Sting’s 1991 album, The Soul Cages, and his own childhood experiences on the Tyneside, North East of England (and on the Scottish border), ‘The Last Ship’ is an epic account of a family, a community and a great act of defiance when the shipyard closed and ceased operations there. This story has even more of a punch for this Oshawa native when Sting and the cast’s recent appearance in support of UNIFOR and the General Motors plant closure garnered nation-wide attention for the production and for the plight of the hometown autoworker.

‘The Last Ship’ is a gritty story of people who belong somewhere and who have a place in a specific community. In the introductory programme notes, Sting states, “I wanted to give the community where I was born, a voice, to tell a narrative in this form, because it’s a story that hasn’t been told. I want to go back and say thank you [to the community] for what you gave me. You formed me, you formed my ambition.”

59 Productions’ split-level setting was a spectacular precursor to the powerful voice that was soon to echo throughout the theatre. From my seat, I paid close attention to the look of prominent steel and sturdy wood that filled the entire stage. There was an appearance of strength of a community that could survive whatever was thrown at its’ residents. Seb Frost’s gorgeous soundscape of seagulls and ship/fog horns hauntingly echoed throughout the auditorium.

Breathtakingly, realistic scrim projections enhanced so much of the mood and environment as the story continued. At the top of the show, there are storm clouds building on the horizon. Fluid scene changes of projections were a true masterpiece to behold with the eyes. I encourage future audience members just to sit for a minute quietly, take in the surroundings on the stage and listen to the sounds. I was transported away immediately even before the production began.

Three minutes before curtain and the performers entered from the wings and came downstage. Some kibitzed with front row audience members while other actors waved to patrons in the orchestra and balcony. What a terrific hook to engage an audience’s interest.

And then the grand master himself, Sting, quietly enters from upstage behind some ensemble members. When spotted, there is further tumultuous applause for him. And then, for me, it happened.

Thanks to Musical Director Richard John and Movement Director Lucy Hind, the two opening songs ‘In the Morning’ and ‘We’ve Got Nowt Else’ were just the preamble of this extraordinary company’s vocal work soaring far past the rafters of the Princess of Wales. I had goosebumps at the top of the show which continued more and more as we learn about the community, see the story unfold, and hear the phenomenal vocal ensemble work.

One slight quibble occurred during the first act where the sound balance was not level as the orchestra seemed to overpower several the choral moments where I couldn’t hear the lyrics to the songs. The balance seemed better in the second act, but it’s something that should be attended to immediately especially since the performers have sustained the Geordie dialect of North East England. A note as well for future audiences to pay careful attention to the dialect.

As foreman Jackie White, Sting’s trademark whisky edged voice highlights and enhances his characterization of a man who continues to fight for what he believes is his duty to his shipyard community. As Jackie’s wife, Peg, Jackie Morrison reveals a woman who shows incredible inner strength of character who has seen her fair share of hardships and heartache but will remain strong and stand by her husband no matter what. Ms. Morrison and Sting are in such realistic and believable synchronicity of connection to each other as performers that I felt tears in my eyes many times throughout.

The parallel love story of Gideon Fletcher (Oliver Savile) and Meg Dawson (Frances McNamee) harmoniously rang true for me as a couple who fell in love when they were young, parted ways, and years later see each other again but this time there is betrayal, hurt, anger and misunderstanding. Ms. McNamee’s ‘If You Ever See Me Talking to s Sailor’ is a tour de force melody of someone who has learned the hard way that life doesn’t always turn out the way she wants.

There are some poignant and heartfelt moments as well. Two that worked beautifully for me were ‘When the Pugilist Learned to Dance’ and ‘Dead Man’s Boots’ (involving Old Joe Fletcher and his young son and grown son, Gideon.) The latter song was extremely haunting as it was a touching moment between father and son who have tried to connect with each other.

Marc Akinfolarin is a robust, self assured and poetic Adrian Sanderson. Annie Grace is a pragmatic by the book, all business Baroness Tynedale. Sean Kearns holds his ground as Freddy Newlands who reminds the community that only 500 people will be hired back if only for awhile.

‘The Last Ship’ is most certainly a story of resilience, of growth, of compassion and of strife. Most importantly, it serves to remind us of our place within the community in which we grew up and matured. Yes, we may leave that community for whatever reason, but that community has formed us, shaped us and molded us to become who we are. We must never forget that community from which we came.

‘The Last Ship’ runs to March 24 at the Princess of Wales Theatre, 300 King Street West, Toronto. For tickets visit the website or telephone (416) 872-1212.

Review: Toronto Irish Players presents 'The Land Grabber' by James Phelan and Edward F. Barrett

By Dave Rabjohn
Guest Reviewer

There is much joy and beauty to celebrate on the emerald isle of Ireland. By contrast, at least an equal amount of pain and horror blight the history of this complicated country. The nineteenth century was visited by famine and hunger while the twentieth century was struck with violence and civil strife and the “Troubles.” The Toronto Irish Players should be commended for not shirking from exploring the difficult themes that come from such a difficult history.

This company has been a Toronto fixture for 44 years and they should be proud of the wide range of programming they offer around the culture of Ireland.

The Land Grabber recently opened at The Alumnae Theatre in Toronto and runs until Mar 2, 2019. The play dives full throttle into the politics and pain of the land wars of the late 1800’s that mainly resulted from the potato famines both major and minor. Originally created years ago by Edward F. Barrett, it has been revived by his grandson James Phelan and newly produced in this North American premiere.

Interacting themes of guilt, bias, blame, and tunnel vision permeate this dark play. The complexity of these interactions is what drives the relationships among characters and also what drives them apart. The magnitude of their tragedy is repeatedly expressed by the starkness of the line “I’m sorry for your troubles.” Some of the writing strongly expresses the horror and depths of these themes – Johnny Foley’s agonizing soliloquy about the roots of his obsession with financial success is a sample. Other times the writing is stilted and uneven, over simplifying or manipulative – an example is the strange resolution of a complex police matter in just a few minutes in the second act.

Meghan De Chastelain is a standout playing daughter Mary Foley. Her strength as an actor comes from the range of emotions and the subtlety she displays in some of the most heated moments. Ms. De Chastelain can rail with power like the best of them but she balances the outward rage with quiet fury. In Act One, she is sitting quietly, hands comfortably folded in her lap, while her eyes appear to be on fire as her head slowly moves from target to target.

Johnny Foley is the main target for the anger from all sides. Played by Thomas O’Neill, the actor has the power and strength to engage in the roughest of conflicts. A highlight is the aforementioned soliloquy. His portrayal , though, does not give us the dimensions of personality that we see in Mary. He begins quickly with stiff arm- swinging and a loud aggressive voice that never diminishes until his very final acceptance of fate. His wife, Ellen, is played by Kelly-Marie Murtha who demonstrates a full range of tenderness, anger, and pain. She carefully portrays the glue of the family until circumstances completely break her.

Ted Powers’ fine performance as the redeemed victim is highlighted by a careful turn as a drunk in the first act then as a voice of reason in the second act. A determined pause in the doorway and quiet survey of the room during a final exit was an astonishing moment. Blake Canning as son Billy creates a believable character as he staggers from crisis to crisis trying to hold everything together. More minor characters, such as the constabulary, seemed stiff and awkward – perhaps a result of the uneven writing or misplaced blocking.

Other blocking set up some stunning moments. Director Kristin Chan created a beautiful portrait to frame Johnny’s soliloquy. The entire family established a careful tableau, sitting or standing, as they quietly absorb the horrors of Johnny’s background. Some decisions with lighting and sound were confusing. Mainly in the second act, lights seemed to dim and reappear to portray entrances and exits or the passage of time – it was often unclear which. The music lacked focus with a variety of styles and instruments. A beautiful haunting piano piece near the end could have been a wonderful thread through the entire production. Some crowd sound effects seemed to come and go from strange directions.

The rustic farm set delivered a strong backdrop for this historical drama. From the team of Sean Treacy, Geraldine Brown, and Anne Lyons the set design demonstrated all the elements of difficult farm life. The walls were subtly low offering the suppressing sense of the tragedy. An interesting element was the placing of the door knobs well above the middle of the doors. Either research discerned that this was typical of an Irish farmhouse, or it was a design decision to further the theme of cramped suppression – congratulations either way.

Again TIP should be congratulated for embracing an overwhelming emotional play. Much of it rings true for contemporary audiences. “Nothing I’ve done is against the law.” Sounds like dissembling politicians of all stripes. The crisis of affordable housing in Toronto is echoed by the evictions of hardworking farmers in nineteenth century Ireland. Perhaps the spirit of that country’s New Land Act can be a part of housing conversations in the here and now.

The medium is the messenger in 'Blithe Spirit', presented by Ajax Community Theatre

By Paul Love
Guest reviewer

In the early 1940s, Noël Coward was struggling to develop an idea he had for a comedic play about ghosts — not an easy task when death was a very real, ever-present, and decidedly unfunny subject in the lives of British citizens in the midst of World War II. After some deep thought and discussion between Coward and an actor friend, the play fell into place, along with its title, “Blithe Spirit”, which Coward lifted from a Percy Bysshe Shelley poem.

Charles Condomine is a novelist who invites a medium named Madame Arcati to his home to perform a séance. Charles is not a believer in the occult, but wants to witness the séance as a means of research for a book he is writing. He invites his wife, Ruth, and his friends Dr. and Mrs. Bradman to join in. The séance goes awry (of course), and the ghost of Charles’s first wife, Elvira, appears, although only Charles can see and hear her.

Charles and Ruth are played, respectively, by Ian Speiran and Kelley Dewey. There were moments when both of these actors were difficult to hear, particularly in the opening scene. However, I have no doubt that this issue will be solved as they settle into the run. Despite this issue, they manage to create — separately and together — an appropriately stuffy British couple, generating some genuinely funny moments along the way.

Jim Ferr and Alexandra Savage-Ferr up the humour factor with their takes on Dr. and Mrs. Bradman, respectively. Ms. Savage-Ferr is particularly enjoyable in those moments where Mrs. Bradman takes on the recognizable role of the friend who loves to gossip.

Laura Thibideau is delightful as the ghost of Elvira, alternating between prankish and moody. Her clever avoidance of Ruth’s ire is particularly enjoyable to watch.

Kudos are deserved for Kathlyn Angelo as the Condomines’ maid, Edith. Although the character doesn’t have a lot to do in the show, it was a solid effort by a first-time actor.

Shari Thorne was truly the driving force of this production. Her Madame Arcati was wonderfully kooky and zany, contrasting nicely with the priggishness of the other characters, and adding a bright spark of energy to the proceedings. Her reactions to Elvira moving objects around and her attempts to sniff out ectoplasm were very funny.

Full credit should be given to the backstage crew for handling the few set malfunctions (hey, they happen) like pros. Kudos, as well, go to the technical wizards who did a great job with some potentially tricky scenes.

Ajax Community Theatre’s production of “Blithe Spirit” heads into its second and final week with shows on February 21, 22, and 23 at the St. Francis Centre, 78 Church St. S. in Ajax at 8 pm. Your best bet for getting tickets would be to visit the website.