The Cost of Living at Aux Angles Ronds
Theatre Meant to Disrupt and Inspire
I like cheeky theater. I think we can use a little more of it in our lives. I had an unexpectedly cheeky night when I ventured out into a frigid January evening that I’ve become accustomed to, yet detest nonetheless. I was pleasantly surprised to find I wasn’t the only one who chose to brave the weather for an intimate performance at Aux Angles Ronds. The place was bustling under warm orange lights, a welcome respite from the eerily empty and snow laden rue Saint Laurent that lay just beyond the window.
Nestled away behind the baristas and the noise were a pair of long black curtains, hiding the stage where we would soon catch The Cost of Living: the latest original play performed by The Sky's The Limit Theater (TSLT).
That evening, we were promised a humorous and honest production that would disrupt and inspire. Yes! I love things that disrupt and inspire! Especially in this post-capitalist hellscape we are trying to survive, it’s good for the soul to witness some honest art that reflects the times we’re in. So needless to say, I felt this play would be right up my alley.
While the rest of the cafe chattered, those of us who came to see the play gathered around the entrance of the quiet performance space. We chatted in anticipation while waiting for permission to enter. Almost like they spawned out of nowhere, our first character appeared before us: maddison litvinenko-schmitt.
Before I go on, let me give you a little more context around what was in store for us. The Cost of Living revolves around a trial, although it is probably unlike most courtroom dramas you’ve seen. It’s Western Bureaucracy being put on trial. In a series of impactful and interwoven monologues, three different characters share a story about how their life has been shaped by the settler colonial systems that govern Canada and beyond. The audience is tasked with participating in this trial as the jury. We were to witness, cast our vote, and let the metaphorical (and literal) scales of justice decide the verdict. Along the way we, the jury, take in a gleefully boundary-crossing display that was unapologetic in its tragic humor.
Now back to maddison, who has appeared in front of us and in the middle of this loud cafe, begins to deliver a clunky land acknowledgement. It felt awkward at best and disrespectful at worst while we strained to hear and acknowledge the significance of the land we’re occupying, all while cups clattered and non-attendees laughed behind us. Right when the moment couldn’t get any more uncomfortable, maddison is interrupted by the entrance of a hooded figure. The figure unhoods to reveal themselves as Jess: the omniscient, omnipresent judge. You could actually see the crowd of prospective audience members physically relax as they reach this realization: the play has already begun.
Okay, not bad… you got us there!
This introduction was definitely a cheeky way to throw us into the thick of it before we even managed to set foot into the performance space at all. We were finally led to enter only to be immediately greeted by our final performer, Banafsheh Hassani. Banafsheh prompted each audience member to swear an oath over a tree while maintaining a level of eye contact that felt uncomfortably earnest for the setting we were in. This is what I was coming to appreciate about this performance. It’s a kind of humor that’s so dry and real you don’t know whether you’re allowed to laugh or not.
The stage design was simple, yet much like the play, the simplicity lent itself to the performance’s bare honesty. The play spoke for itself. Another cheeky interactive moment was the audience seating itself. Different sets of chairs were reserved for different identities of people. One group of chairs had a sign that said “Indigenous Peoples,” another said “Temporary Residents”, another “Naturalised Citizen.” Some even as specific as “French/European Immigrants.”
Everyone shuffled and giggled uncomfortably past one another as we each tried to figure out which bubble letter label would best grasp the messy reality of our identities. Much like the dehumanising process many marginalised people undergo in Western bureaucracy, we were forced to put ourselves in a box. Check yourself on a form. “Where are you from? No, where are you really from?” Explain your complex life and identity, preferably using ten words or less.
While I did say that the stage was mostly simple, there was one beautiful piece of intricate set design that lay in the center of the space: wooden scales of justice seemingly carved out of a tree. We were reminded again why we were here. We the jury/audience sat as we witnessed thoughtfully interwoven monologues. Sharing stories revolving around land, power, and what it means to exist as a racialized person under Western bureaucracy.
Jess Beauvais delivered one of the most powerful monologues of the evening. A powerful indictment of white supremacy and its violent gaze upon Indigenous people, specifically Indigenous non-men. Jess’ delivery was as beguiling as it was cutting, “The way we treat the land mirrors our treatment of women.” Their monologue (like the others in this play) leaned towards the semi-autobiographical. It was about identity, land, and indigeneity and was delivered with the care and nuance that is only capable by someone with a true connection to the experience. Jess really knows how to reel you in.
Banafsheh acted as both a lawyer and witness testifying against Western bureaucracy. Her monologue revolved around the experiences of immigrants navigating the ruthless path to citizenship in Canada. Banafsheh’s performance was definitely a poster child for turning tragedy into comedy. The monologue managed to deliver some slapstick without being too corny. This humorous delivery is almost a perfect compliment to the content itself, because if you ever navigated Canadian immigration, you’d understand how absurdly Kafkaesque it can be.
Finally, maddison, who acted as both a performer and main director of the production. maddison's monologue revolved around their own experiences of navigating their Metis identity in a system that puts status under a microscope while rewarding racial ambiguity. As someone who also had to deal with people’s confusion around “what I am”, it’s validating to see an honest performance around the frustration of being proud of your identity while constantly having to defend it. Additionally, it was easy to tell that the direction of this play emphasized care and communication. The chemistry between all the cast and crew was clearly fluid, genuine, and fun to witness.
The narrative itself was quite experimental and not very linear, however as someone who loves alternative storytelling this was a real treat for me. Although, if you’re more of the linear type and prefer a more chronological narrative, this play may not be for you. After all, I did TELL you from the start that TSLT was out to disrupt and cross some boundaries.
That being said, I will say that at times, the experimental nature of the narrative was a bit difficult to follow. There were many powerful monologues, but sprinkled in between was the occasional story that felt a bit difficult to place within the larger established narrative. These few stories sometimes made it feel like the overarching ‘trial’ metaphor was a bit shoehorned or even lost in the sauce of all the other imagery being presented by the adjacent storylines. I felt that the play’s strongest assets were the simplicity and directness which allowed the actors’ impactful monologues to shine through.
All in all, I would say it was a night well spent. TSLT delivered what they promised, which was a night of honesty and disruption with a side of humor and wry wit. The production was humble but it had a whole lot of heart.
The Cost of Living was an impactful performance that shined a light on one of the most insidious yet powerful tools of oppression: systematic marginalization. The status quo has now made it so that it doesn’t just have to kill you with guns or bombs. Some of the most violent people on this planet are politicians, CEOs, and Board Members who never get any real blood on their hands, yet the decisions they make kill so many of us every day. Killing us through rejected immigration applications, soaring rent, ridiculous grocery prices, hateful political rhetoric, destructive land exploitation, and so on and so forth. This play touches upon that aimless rage we feel when our worst enemy is also our most nebulous and ubiquitous.
