Is it a spoof of a horror show? Is it a tribute to Edgard Allan Poe’s writing  and the general atmosphere of his literary world?  Is it a field day for the sound effects person? It’s a bit of all of that but mostly this is an experiment in staging one of the most important English language short story writers of the 19^th Century. What shines is Poe’s prose  that is taken directly from his short stories,- chopped down a bit with the juicy parts remaining. It’s all  narrated by the actors and it is all from Poe except for the ending where the characters eventually take things into their own hands….  A bit of Pirandello’s revenge perhaps. Since it  all appears to be coming from Poe’s nightmares  things  are not straighforward , that is clear. However, much of the physical movements  as well as the repetitive sound effects (muffled screams and weak screetching ) appear to work against the text because if they seem to be  spoofing the text, the spoof is not well done. .  The spoof has to be clear and come from a heightened form of performance… Even the choking and strangling were not melodramatic enough to be intentionally phony. They looked like a limp form of  realism  or amatures fooling around and that is certainly not the effect they wanted to create.  And then, just to clarify things, why not bring up a little poster/screen on the side announcing the title of each story just as the TROIS COUPs from French theatre resound in the background, announcing the next text.

As for the actors. they  make their way through it with reasonable skill. A good fringe experiment that highlights all the problems that confront a director when he takes on a literary work such as this one and then tries to give it a personal touch and a new spin.

The Poe Show  Plays at the Studio Leonard Beaulne

Written by David Beecroft, directed by Stewart Mathews

With Jeremy Piamonte, Sarah Duplancic, Hannah Gibson Fraser, Anna Lewis

A Vanity Project production (Tim Oberholzer)

bring it up to the 21st century.

Reviewed by Patrick Langston

A Mind Full of Dopamine written & performed by Rory Ledbetter

Rory Ledbetter, a masterful storyteller with a big stage presence, rockets us down the dark side of the gambling highway by recounting a gambling addiction that consumed him and left him shockingly deep in debt. He blames no one, not even himself, for the addiction – it is, he explains, the thrilling rush of dopamine, that trigger in the brain over which we have no control, that hooks the gambler. Ledbetter intersperses his narrative with harmonica riffs that give us a chance to catch our collective breath during his pell-mell performance. One problem in an otherwise gripping show: Ledbetter is an enthusiastic guy, but that translates into shouting his lines – inappropriate for a small venue like the Arts Court Library.

Plays at Arts Court Library

Getting Through is the story of two people trying to stay together, even though they are both influenced and informed by rough upbringings full of unsettling changes. It’s an idea that has been thoroughly explored and, unfortunately, this production doesn’t bring much new material to the conversation. Although their hearts seemed in the right place, the emotion and acting were too overwrought for the audience to feel any real connection with the story or characters. This performance felt like a lot of telling instead of showing, though some of the directing and blocking was admirably done. The acting could have been toned down a bit – not every sad or frustrating situation deserves a heaving sigh. However, this is not to say the show doesn’t have potential; it just needs more development and a more honest approach to the subject matter, with more raw (not over the top) emotion by the actors.

Getting Through

By Aidan Dewhirst

Loose Cannons Collective

Venue 5. ODD

Don’t Tell My Dad is a fun, informative and, at times, quite dirty performance by folk singer Chelsea Manders. Its tongue-in-cheek, just self deprecating enough take on the world is refreshing and Manders really knows how to make use of comedic timing as she explores her harrowing upbringing in an upper-middle class, supportive, loving family. Sounds great, right? Sure, unless you want to be a tortured artist. Instead of getting too grumbly, Manders takes her experiences and makes them into a cute, funny show. She’s a peppy kindergarden teacher who sings (quite beautifully, by the way) some of the dirtiest songs at the Fringe. I hope you like poop and penis jokes, because this show is littered with them. Being a fan of the sophisticated comedy stylings myself, the show mostly had me laughing out loud. Some parts veered on the side of a bit too crass (did we really need to see up her skirt?), but overall an enjoyable show reminding us to laugh at and with life and that anything can and should be made into art.

Don’t Tell My Dad

By Chelsea Manders

Plays at Academic Hall

First words is a wonderfully pieced together story of a family’s reaction to tragedy and its affects on a first/last born child. Maman, like any good Franco-Ontarian Catholic, married young, scrubbed, cleaned, toiled, and produced babies. All was as it should be. Until, that is, a fire killed all five of her children: You, Me, He, She, and baby It. In order to deal with her pain, Maman decides to replace every one of her lost children with new ones, starting with the protagonist. Her and Papa decide to hold a party on the anniversary of their deaths every year, a joylessly joyful occasion, peppered with pink balloons, sorrow, and awkward social interactions.

Natalie Joy is a joy to watch on stage. She’s energetic without being draining, takes her time with transitions between scenes and is not afraid of silence. She’s an extremely expressive and fearless performer, throwing herself into the emotions of the moment, swaying to the music or slouching in a lounge chair in the club that is her mother’s womb. She’s magnetic and draws you into her character.

The team uses music and movement as an additional voice in the play, finding ways to express those feelings just intangible enough for which words won’t quite do. The show unfolds slowly – we are only given snippets at a time as to what is going on, both as to the story and the main character’s feelings. In piecing the puzzle, we go on a journey with our protagonist. This makes the moments of revelation all that much more mesmerizing. A show like this really reminds us of what Fringe is all about – pushing limits and finding new ways of expressing ourselves and the world around us.

First Words

By Natalie Joy Quesnel

Directed and dramaturged by Emily Pearlman

Sound design by Steve Lafond

Plays in Academic Hall

Oceans Apart by Alain G. Chauvin, dramaturgy by Catherine Ballachey, featuring Alain G. Chauvin with Daniel Groleau Landry and Rebecca Laviolette. Haunted by memories of combat, a solider returns home to Canada and the “real world” now made strange. While the text handles the subject with sensitivity, the main character’s determination to conceal his pain creates a distance that sometimes blurs the picture. Still, moments of revelation colour the narrative, such as when the character reveals why he chose to leave his family and make his cross Canada trek, or contrasts the physical landscape of home with that of Afghanistan.

– Snapshot on the Fringe by Laurie Fyffe