Jason’s Reviews
Cabaret of Murder
With a title like Cabaret of Murder, I was prepared to expect the unexpected. Still, I didn’t expect the show’s director, writer, and designer Blair Moro to kick things off with an announcement that one of the three performers was sick (Bella Ciccone), and couldn’t perform, and that their replacement only got the script two hours prior. Moro’s second announcement, clearly part of the show already, was not only expected, but appreciated. It was a content warning that stated that they, in no way, engage in any victim blaming, but also understand that this show isn’t for everyone, and people are welcome to leave if they find the material too disturbing.
The show was a deft mix of Verbatim Theatre and Cabaret. It’s as if a true crime podcast came to life and started singing and dancing. It featured statements and testimony from actual serial killers mixed in with performances of poetry, songs, and even short plays that other mass murderers wrote. After each performance, the cast informed us which killer made the statement or wrote the work, along with their body count, and whether or not they are still alive and in jail, haven’t been caught, or dead. So it’s educational, too. There was a really catchy song, Madman in Waco, performed in the middle of the show, that was, in retrospect, quite chilling. And I won’t spoil which killer wrote the two short plays that they performed unedited, despite them really needing an edit (which the performers acknowledged).
Kris Ma’Cheque, a drag king who is also performing solo in the Fringe show Personal Best, was the aforementioned last-minute stand-in for this show, and he didn’t miss a beat! Sure, you could see a script at one point,, but he brought the same energy and humour as Katie-Rose Connors and Paulina Pino Rubio, the two regular cast members. This didn’t feel like a stand-in performance at all. The trio moved effortlessly from one scene, and one killer, to another. While they were able to bring the required intensity and seriousness in the scenes, they also brought the much-needed levity between them. When the material is this dark, the Brechtian stepping out of character, and showing that we’re all just playing, was a nice touch.
I never thought I’d see a true crime cabaret, but now that I have, I can say that it works. The most disturbing thing is how easily some of the works of these killers lend themselves to the cabaret format. Cabaret of Murder isn’t for everyone, but it is a unique merging of style and subject matter that delivers what it promises.
Comedy Game Showdown
Some comedy shows are designed to be enjoyed alongside a loud, raucous crowd. Comedy Game Showdown, from Toronto’s And a Scotch Egg Productions, is clearly one of them. Catching it with a rather sparse crowd at Le Petit Campus at 10pm on a rainy Friday night did seem a bit odd. The show’s host and director Dan Donnelly commented on the crowd, or lack thereof, during his intro. He said that Fringe artists are no longer allowed to poster around the city, and then slid into one of my favourite bits of the show, which I won’t spoil, only to say that it revolved around a unique promotional strategy.
The format for the show was that of a classic trivia show, except without the points (until the very end, as a joke). The questions, along with graphics, showed up on a giant screen in the middle of the stage as Donnelly read them out. This was a multimedia show with a polished, professional feel. Like a TV or streaming show, which tracks, as they do record these and stream them. Two teams of two buzzed in, each trying to give the funniest answer, before Donnelly revealed the actual answer. I know that the focus was on the comedy, but I enjoyed trying to figure out the questions themselves. I didn’t already know most of the answers, even though several of the topic categories were Montreal-related.
The humour was, for the most part, light-hearted. Not quite dad jokes, but close. Nothing too edgy, except for one of the responses from contestant George Burgess early in the show. I felt, at one point, that I was at a JFL show, rather than a Fringe one. There was a definite Toronto flavour to the jokes as well, with a bit of Montreal anglo mixed in. Donnelly did live here for eight years as a McGill student. Burgess, his teammate Nikki Ashworth, and opposing contestant Joey Crewe are all Toronto-based comedians, but Crewe’s teammate Jacy Lafontaine is part of the Montreal comedy scene, and has even performed in the Candyass Cabaret. She got to stand up for our city’s bagels in one of the longer comedic debate segments following the questions. She stood up well for our better version of the bagel, while Crewe tried in vain to defend the New York variety, as well as NYC tap water.
This was a professional-looking show, with experienced comedians, and interesting trivia questions. The only thing it needed was more of an audience. But, of course, if this type of humour and presentation is your thing, you can fix that by going.
Novecento: Pianiste
I’ve seen plenty of one-person shows that include multiple characters in my day. They all have one thing in common: the actor will inevitably stop playing the protagonist and inhabit one of the other characters in the story, either through dialogue, costuming, or both. While that can usually be a nice touch, there was none of it in Novecento: Pianiste, the new Fringe show from De Anima Production starring, and directed by Laurent Orry from a monologue written by Alessandro Baricco. And I’m glad, because the show didn’t need it.
This is the story of Danny Boodmann T. D. Novecento, a stellar pianist who was born, lived, performed, and died on a cruise liner, never disembarking, even briefly when the ship was at port. He almost did it once, just to see the ocean from the shore, but couldn’t get past the third step. While Novecento’s story is a compelling one, that’s not who Orry plays. Instead, he plays a trumpet player who considered the pianist his best friend. It’s told from a place of what seems like recent loss. Or at least the memory is fresh, or brought back by drinking (he sips from a flask multiple times during the show). Orry delivers a captivating, emotional performance, which is only magnified by the choice to stay in character as the trumpet player, even when the focal point of the story, Novecento, is speaking.
While the set is minimal, with only a crate for Orry to sit on, one prop (the flask), and no costume changes, there is a rather intense storm at sea sequence aided by sound effects and lighting cues. But most of the scenes are painted through description. I could really see the scenes, both on the ship, and on shore. And I could easily visualize, and even hear characters like Nocvecento, the rich American passenger, and the man who claimed to have invented Jazz (the story is set primarily in the 1930s), despite Orry not performing them, only describing them and saying their lines.
It’s also important to note that this play is in French, which is my second language. I consider myself fluently bilingual, but I’m only 100% confident with my French comprehension when it comes to basic communication, fact-based articles, some song lyrics, and a decent amount of movies and TV. This was poetic, and delivered by a character in the 1930s, speaking from the heart, and correctly not taking the time to enunciate for the anglos in the crowd. So yeah, I did miss a few of the salient details. But it didn’t matter. The emotion was crystal clear throughout, and I understood what was going on even if I missed some of the finer points. And that’s just one of the many reasons why this is a one-man drama done right.
Pindorama
Pindorama by MBC Theatre is billed as “a very Brazilian comedy”. As someone not familiar with Brazilian comedy, I’m just going to have to take their word for it on that one. What I can tell from my own observations catching a Sunday afternoon performance at La Chapelle is that this is a very Fringe play, or at least it has all the elements I think of when someone says Fringe play. I know the festival has branched out to mean many different things to many different people, but for me, this is classic Fringe.
Playwright and director Fred Azeredo gave us a fun, fast-paced, outlandish story that still plays as reasonable. It’s surreal, yet somehow works as a believable narrative. And this is with some fourth-wall breaking in the staging, and a bit of it in-universe as well, a stuffed penguin other characters can hear, unexpected burlesque costuming, mythical creatures, and a full-on Jesus Christ. Religion plays a significant role in this story. The comedy is infused with it, along with disdain for a particular football (that’s soccer for us here) team. I really enjoyed how the plot got progressively more over-the-top in pace with the story and its characters moving locations. It was a nice bit of crafting.
For a show like this to work, it needs a strong ensemble cast, and Pindorama has it. Not only do they play their main characters, in some cases more than one, but they also double as time cues for the audience, boxing match-style. We get Mazdak Darvishi as the aforementioned Jesus, Alexia Maldonado Juarez as a nun interested in the occult, Jaanashee Punjabi as the ultra-religious bank secretary, Tessa Lupkowski as a secretary, and sometimes narrator (they also both inhabit other characters, Henry Kemeny-Wodlinger as a recognition-focused bank robber, and Daniel Wan…well, I won’t spoil things in this case with a character description. And it makes sense that all these characters find themselves in the same place, a bank, on the same day.
I could say, at this point, that I noticed elements in this show that could speak to the influence Brecht had on Brazilian theatre through Boal, but then I’d have to pretend I know something about Brazilian theatre, which I don’t. I could point out a Rocky Horror feel in the pacing, but there were no musical numbers. So I think I’ll put my early 2000s goggles back on and say that elements like stuffed animals, random sexy costumes, a walking, talking, comedic Jesus, and a narrative constructed to make that all make sense, mean that this is the quintessential Fringe show. And then I’ll take those glasses off, and say that this show is just plain creative fun.
