Imagine, if you will a shoot -out between two of North America’s most famous French-Canadian word slingers, Michel Tremblay and Jack Kerouac. George Rideout’s Michel & Ti-Jean, playing at the Centaur until March 7, is an unexpected surprise, a daring, novel audacious idea that actually works on stage. The encounter between the two takes place in 1969, one month before Kerouac drank himself to death. Tremblay, who was then 27 and anxious to validate himself as a writer, hitchhikes to St. Petersburg, Fla., with a copy of his then as yet unproduced play, Les Belles Soeurs in his knapsack to give to Kerouac to read. It never happened, of course. But if it had, the two writers would have had enough in common to talk about. Both were products of extended French Canadian families, both had fathers who were printers, both were outsiders who wrote as a means of escape, and although Kerouac had been married three times, he, like Tremblay had his share of homosexual encounters. And as writers, both “redeemed light from darkness,” Keroauc with On the Road, and Tremblay with his entire canon. Because everyone in Montreal knows Michel Tremblay, the trick, of course, was to find an actor who could not only portray him, but pull it off convincingly. Happily, the Centaur found one in Vincent Hoss-Desmarais who gives a performance that’s all sensitivity and soul, a marvelous and vital impression that is as much Vincent Tremblay , as it is Michel Hoss-Desmarais. He’s nailed the part. As Kerouac, Alain Goulem is a pitch perfect match, brash, spontaneous and self loathing. The moment where he reads jazz into Tremblay’s script and imitates all the instruments is pure magic. ( “ Germaine, the fat sister, she’s a trombone, she bellows and groans, Rose is a trumpet, she’s the loudest, Pierette, the black sheep, she’s an alto sax, her sound has the smell of sex……”). Author Rideout, who teaches at Bishop’s University, did his Master’s Thesis on Kerouac, and Tremblay himself liked the script enough to encourage the Centaur to stage the work. If, as the Kerouac character says, heaven exists in literature, because writers make people they love into angels, then Rideout already has his wings. Ian Tamblyn has composed evocative beat music Amy Keith has designed a minimal set around a billiard table, and Sarah Garton Stanley has directed with her head and her heart. Michel & Ti –Jean offers home grown characters, heartfelt ideas about good writing, inspired acting, and a craving for beer and fried baloney sandwiches..
The Saidye Bronfman’s revival of Montreal playwright Michael Mackenzie’s Geometry in Venice at the Segal Centre plays like chamber music. Precise, bittersweet, and elegant, the work is built on The Pupil, a short story, by Henry James. it’s the coming of age tale of Morgan Moreen, an exceptionally gifted, but sickly child, who discovers his apparently aristocratic parents aren’t quite what they appear to be. Morgan finds solace in the company of his Canadian tutor, Pemberton, (Graham Cuthbertson) who isn’t being paid, but finds himself part of the Moreens nomadic odyssey through Europe. Morgan’s parents are typical of those seductively, self-centred people who rub elbows with the rich and famous and depend on their social contacts to keep one step ahead of their creditors. They are charming con artists, hoping to marry off their daughter, Amy (Susanna Fournier) to some aristocrat rich enough to maintain their lifestyle. As Morgan quickly determines, his parents are sycophants, “witty and charming to dolts.” They can’t afford to pay Pemberton, but expect him to stay around without renumeration because they, themselves, are so “A la mode.” In real life, Henry James hobnobbed with the rich and famous that he wrote about. In this show he appears as the fly on the wall (Damien Atkins postures grandly in the part) who quickly determines that the Moreen’s aren’t seriously rich enough for him and drops them like a hot potato. As Pemberton, the tutor who eventually has no choice but to abandon his charge, Cuthbertson’s acting is economical and hits home without broad effects. Geometry in Venice is well worth seeing for the stage debut of 12-year old Elliott Larson as Morgan. In spite of the occasional problem with projection, Larson steals the show with winsome self assurance. Not to mention his skill as a pianist. As his parents, Allegra Fulton , who barters sex for her son’s well-being, is ideal as the noble ruin she is meant to be, and Aidan Devine, as his oily father, is convincingly amoral and duplicitous. The spare white set by Julie Fox, all drapes and chandeliers is visually fulfilling, everyone is beautifully costumed in Victorian outfits, and Luc Prairie has lit the show with consummate skill. In this production, director Chris Abraham figured out all the possible angles, and got the geometry right.
Imagine, if you will a shoot -out between two of North America’s most famous French-Canadian word slingers, Michel Tremblay and Jack Kerouac. George Rideout’s Michel & Ti-Jean, playing at the Centaur until March 7, is an unexpected surprise, a daring, novel audacious idea that actually works on stage. The encounter between the two takes place in 1969, one month before Kerouac drank himself to death. Tremblay, who was then 27 and anxious to validate himself as a writer, hitchhikes to St. Petersburg, Fla., with a copy of his then as yet unproduced play, Les Belles Soeurs in his knapsack to give to Kerouac to read. It never happened, of course. But if it had, the two writers would have had enough in common to talk about. Both were products of extended French Canadian families, both had fathers who were printers, both were outsiders who wrote as a means of escape, and although Kerouac had been married three times, he, like Tremblay had his share of homosexual encounters. And as writers, both “redeemed light from darkness,” Keroauc with On the Road, and Tremblay with his entire canon. Because everyone in Montreal knows Michel Tremblay, the trick, of course, was to find an actor who could not only portray him, but pull it off convincingly. Happily, the Centaur found one in Vincent Hoss-Desmarais who gives a performance that’s all sensitivity and soul, a marvelous and vital impression that is as much Vincent Tremblay , as it is Michel Hoss-Desmarais. He’s nailed the part. As Kerouac, Alain Goulem is a pitch perfect match, brash, spontaneous and self loathing. The moment where he reads jazz into Tremblay’s script and imitates all the instruments is pure magic. ( “ Germaine, the fat sister, she’s a trombone, she bellows and groans, Rose is a trumpet, she’s the loudest, Pierette, the black sheep, she’s an alto sax, her sound has the smell of sex……”). Author Rideout, who teaches at Bishop’s University, did his Master’s Thesis on Kerouac, and Tremblay himself liked the script enough to encourage the Centaur to stage the work. If, as the Kerouac character says, heaven exists in literature, because writers make people they love into angels, then Rideout already has his wings. Ian Tamblyn has composed evocative beat music Amy Keith has designed a minimal set around a billiard table, and Sarah Garton Stanley has directed with her head and her heart. Michel & Ti –Jean offers home grown characters, heartfelt ideas about good writing, inspired acting, and a craving for beer and fried baloney sandwiches..
The Saidye Bronfman’s revival of Montreal playwright Michael Mackenzie’s Geometry in Venice at the Segal Centre plays like chamber music. Precise, bittersweet, and elegant, the work is built on The Pupil, a short story, by Henry James. it’s the coming of age tale of Morgan Moreen, an exceptionally gifted, but sickly child, who discovers his apparently aristocratic parents aren’t quite what they appear to be. Morgan finds solace in the company of his Canadian tutor, Pemberton, (Graham Cuthbertson) who isn’t being paid, but finds himself part of the Moreens nomadic odyssey through Europe. Morgan’s parents are typical of those seductively, self-centred people who rub elbows with the rich and famous and depend on their social contacts to keep one step ahead of their creditors. They are charming con artists, hoping to marry off their daughter, Amy (Susanna Fournier) to some aristocrat rich enough to maintain their lifestyle. As Morgan quickly determines, his parents are sycophants, “witty and charming to dolts.” They can’t afford to pay Pemberton, but expect him to stay around without renumeration because they, themselves, are so “A la mode.” In real life, Henry James hobnobbed with the rich and famous that he wrote about. In this show he appears as the fly on the wall (Damien Atkins postures grandly in the part) who quickly determines that the Moreen’s aren’t seriously rich enough for him and drops them like a hot potato. As Pemberton, the tutor who eventually has no choice but to abandon his charge, Cuthbertson’s acting is economical and hits home without broad effects. Geometry in Venice is well worth seeing for the stage debut of 12-year old Elliott Larson as Morgan. In spite of the occasional problem with projection, Larson steals the show with winsome self assurance. Not to mention his skill as a pianist. As his parents, Allegra Fulton , who barters sex for her son’s well-being, is ideal as the noble ruin she is meant to be, and Aidan Devine, as his oily father, is convincingly amoral and duplicitous. The spare white set by Julie Fox, all drapes and chandeliers is visually fulfilling, everyone is beautifully costumed in Victorian outfits, and Luc Prairie has lit the show with consummate skill. In this production, director Chris Abraham figured out all the possible angles, and got the geometry right.