Yael’s Reviews
The Singing Psychic Game Show
I am fairly familiar with the Saint Laurent area—especially Segal’s supermarket and Bar Suzanne—having lived in the vicinity of this vibrant street for a little more than a year. However, I was completely unaware of the hidden gem that is Théâtre MainLine, which welcomed me with a tiny door and a steep set of stairs. The Singing Psychic kicked off the evening with a bold proclamation: “I am always right.” Judging by the audience’s reactions when she gave them birthday or card readings, I have no doubt about her accuracy. She even offered me a private reading after the show—unaware that I am currently going through the most sorrowful, gut-wrenching lesbian breakup. Her reading was “spookily accurate,” to quote the show’s review, leaving me both amazed and introspective.
Marysia Trembecka, the mastermind behind both the playwriting and direction of her show, graced the stage with a whimsical and inviting presence that instantly put the audience at ease. She showcased some impressive dance moves and encouraged everyone to let loose. As a dancer myself, albeit a very shy one, Trembecka made me feel safe and seen, even when grooving to '70s jams. MainLine provided a spacious room with four sets of numerous seats that surrounded a stage adorned with an intriguing wheel, psychic Jenga, a table with mysterious cards, a chair, and a microphone—ample props to ensure the night was both fun and reflective.
The Singing Psychic began with a few playful disclaimers:
- "I am always right, but sometimes the buildings and the songs they sing get in the way of me hearing the songs in people’s hearts."
- "I have spirit guides who interfere, especially Edith Piaf in Montreal."
- "I can no longer go to weddings (I know too much)."
- "What happens in the show stays secret as I will reveal dark secrets."
Starting at 10:30 pm sharp, the show demanded punctuality to avoid being put on the spot by the psychic herself. Our audience, brimming with energy, was outgoing, supportive, friendly, and perhaps just a little bit tipsy, creating a vibrant atmosphere. The games vary with each show but typically include psychic bingo, fortune readings, musical statues, wheel of fortune, psychic Jenga, and more, along with some secret prizes that add an element of surprise and excitement.
If you enjoy interactive games, a diverse and lively audience, and the guidance of a wise, humorous, and captivating lady who seems to know everything about you, then this is the show for you. Remember, she is ALWAYS right, so if she offers you advice, take it to heart—I know I will be journaling her insights immediately! This show is a perfect blend of fun, reflection, and a touch of the mystical, making it an unforgettable experience.
Shakespeare & The Pearly Gates
"It is like 12 Angry Men, but with Shakespeare characters" is a claim audacious enough to intrigue me—not only because I am an English student with a minor in liberal arts, but also because this is a timeless play accessible to everyone, regardless of their familiarity with Shakespeare! In this one, Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, awakes in a mysterious and dark place. Needless to say, he is extremely confused. Everyone he meets (who might or might not include Macbeth, Lady Macbeth, Romeo, and more) refuses to explain where he is and why he cannot pass through the gates guarded by a charismatic doorkeeper.
Directed by Justin Côté, the show takes place in the Comedy Theatre of Montreal, a very comfortable and well-established space where the classical and contemporary met on that gloomy Sunday afternoon. With dialogue that took me back to my first liberal arts class—this is a compliment—the show offers a modern insight into these beloved and well-known characters through a contemporary lens.
For Hamlet, his moral fate is closely intertwined with that of his uncle, for better or worse. The obligation to kill his uncle cannot be carried out because it is inherently linked to his deeper, instinctive urge to kill his mother's husband, whether it is her first or second. This deeper urge is intensely "repressed," and as a result, the duty to kill his uncle is also inevitably suppressed. Shakespeare and the Pearly Gates reflects on the universal themes of action vs. inaction, corruption, death, morality, and agency.
The cast for this production was undoubtedly eloquent and emotionally striking. Hamlet (Justin Côté), Peter (Amir Pakdel), Macbeth (Boris Kirimidtchiev), Lady Macbeth (Laura Rossiter), Brutus (Oliver Ocampo), Romeo (Gabriel Lezza), Coriolanus (Sam Lemieux), Juliet (Vassiliki Gicopoulos), and Ophelia (Clara Havro Costa) are talented actors who build this classic narrative by posing lingering questions: "What if he had a good reason?", "Would you do it all over again?", "I trust it was all true?", "What are you?" Funny, clever and stimulating in the most intellectual and human way possible!
My Sister’s Dead… HaHa
Having recently arrived in Montreal, and just beginning to explore its eclectic fringe scene, My Sister’s Dead…Haha provided an exhilarating and memorable introduction to this vibrant community. This Montreal-based play masterfully weaves together elements of grief, comedy, teapots, and cats, creating a uniquely emotional experience. From the moment the play began, I was drawn into its world, where poignant moments of loss are seamlessly intertwined with bursts of humor and whimsical touches. The story follows Briar and May, who have just lost their sister June—May’s twin. After June's passing, the sisters receive a peculiar voice note from her, in which she expressed her three final wishes: for them to live together in her apartment, to take care of her beloved cat Bacon, and to keep her ashes in a teapot.
The stage, simply set with a sofa, chair, coffee table, lamp, and boxes of June’s belongings, provides an intimate backdrop for the tumultuous yet wholesome interactions between the two sisters. This minimalist setup allows the raw emotions and compelling dynamics to take center stage, drawing the audience into the sisters' world. The dialogue is a remarkable blend of touching, authentic, heartbreaking, and warm moments—all of which I deeply appreciate as a writer.
As a newcomer to the fringe community, I am still acquainting myself with the various venues and performance spaces. This play was staged at the Conservatoire de musique et d'art dramatique du Québec. Without revealing too much, it’s worth noting that voice notes play a pivotal role in this production. The clever use of sound design ensures that these voice notes resonate throughout the room, further immersing the audience in the characters' experiences. This innovative approach not only enhances the emotional depth of the play but also connects the audience more deeply with the unfolding story. The play captured the audience with the famous voice note:
“Wouldn’t it be great if we could live together again? And we make this place less quiet? Just for a month or so. And Briar could be the knight in shining armor, and you could be our baby Bacon’s mom, and you could put me in a teapot? Ah, what a dream that would be hahaha see you later!”
I have to admit that this one almost made me cry—I had to hold back my tears because I had plans after the show and I really loved my makeup of the day. There is something extremely heartbreaking about the quietness that comes with grief and something almost eerie about witnessing two individuals create a yet stronger bond over the death of their sister. If you are someone who copes with humor through painful circumstances in life or if you are just craving a beautiful blend of sisterhood, pain and a chuckle here and there, this one's for you!
Cornflake
Cornflake was the first show I watched for this review journey, and I enjoyed it deeply. It brought back many memories from my childhood and teenage years (in a good way, don’t worry). When I was younger, I frequented the theater almost every weekend with my parents—usually watching plays by university students. Cornflake has this experimental, underground, and brain-twisting vibe that reminds me so much of the plays I used to watch with my parents back in Mexico.
There are two main characters in this show: a rat who is clearly tired of the door-to-door salesmanship business and a bird who works hard to build a comedy career. This stimulating comedic drama explores a world where one must forget and where one must stay exactly the same. It asks the profound questions: “What is it like to be ‘something’ you're not? And will we ever become the “something” we truly are?”
Performed at La Chapelle, a wonderful space for contemporary arts located on Saint-Dominique in the Plateau, adjacent to Saint-Laurent, the show offers a great view from most angles of the room (I sat at the back because, as a dedicated introvert, I have to).
The dialogue is incredibly witty, cleverly funny, and straight-up genius—though I must be honest, I am someone who struggles to focus and constantly zones out (I have ADHD, so bear with me). I found it most challenging to focus on the dialogue at the top of the play, where the two characters were mostly holding each other or performing across the stage quietly with just the dialogue playing in the background. It was difficult for me to divide my attention between the characters’ bodily movements and the audio, confused by quotes like “Let’s say that all spaces that have ever existed can be conceived in a bowl?” But that might just be me—what I am saying is, be prepared to be confused and be okay with being confused.
From my understanding, the show uses the image of the Cornflake as a symbol of how we think one single model fits all or how, for example, medicine assumes that there is a normal way of being and that everyone should be able to adapt to such a way. (Did you know there is a link between masturbation and Cornflakes? I didn’t, but thanks to this show, I learned that and more!)
Rat (Masha Bashmakova) and Bird (Corbeau Sandoval) gave incredibly engaging performances. Their voices filled the room with powerful emotions like anxiety, frustration, and anger while mostly staring directly at the audience, making us part of their uneasiness. Even though I am unfamiliar with this more experimental type of art and performance, their strong stage presence held my (mostly) undivided attention! Invigorating, creative, and emotionally striking.
As a Latina, queer, and neurodivergent woman, Cornflake is an indispensable show for those who experience oppression but also for those who struggle to understand why being “othered” is hard, harmful, and unnecessarily confusing.
“What you need is a…a world. One where it doesn’t rain. Where the sun always shines. One where the street lights never burn out on your walk home. One where the people grow! Do you know what it’s like to grow?”
Stories From The Brink
I need to confess I was more or less 5 minutes late for this one (It was running so much and I was in so much physical pain I almost did not make it) I got into the venue which happened to be a gorgeous and spacious chapel—ironically adequate for this show by the wonderful Iris Bahr— award-winning writer, actor, director, producer and host of the hit X-Rae and Near Death podcasts. As a fan myself of using humor to cope with my own near death experiences and some others not as hardcore, I connected on an emotional level with Iris and the women in her life, all of them strong and admirable individuals!
This solo show takes place in Cité-des-Hospitalières, a place I have never been before. The chapel was exactly what I expected from a chapel, religious imagery everywhere and church-like benches for the audience—nevertheless, Iris made the place feel warmly inviting, though I would have enjoyed a bit more lighting since the day was already dark enough and the aura was a bit gloomy, to say the least. Iris is a funny and witty individual who is not ashamed to share the most un-shearable parts of her life not only as a way to entertain an audience but also too, clearly, inspire people like me to use arts as an outlet to let go of shame because there is no way to learn without fucking things up more often than not. From her childhood to the tough times of young adulthood, Iris reminds a young audience like me that when you think things are going your way, they are only going the way life wants them too and, if you are lucky enough, they won’t kill you.
From Machu Picchu to the Bronx in New York, with her extensive and stimulating vocabulary, and the perfect balance of humor and seriousness, this is definitely a not-miss in this year’s Fringe festival. Near death adventures can be literal or perceived!