Theatre & Dance Reviews

Swooning at Cinderella reminds us how much we love the National Ballet of Canada

Submitted by Anonymous on Sun, 11/21/2010 - 16:45

Swooning at Cinderella reminds us how much we love the National Ballet of Canada

Some young girls dream of perfect pink tutus, sparkly shoes and a passionate prince. I do not – and this, surprisingly, is why I loved the National Ballet of Canada’s performance of Cinderella at The Four Seasons Performing Arts Centre. Don’t worry, I’ll explain.

Instead of being the Disney-like Cinderella we would expect, the production was an amazing amalgamation of influences. The costumes referenced the Bright Young Things of the 20s and 30s, Cinderella’s home was a French maison turned into a Midsummer Night’s Dream garden and the intricately designed ballroom set was very Aubrey Beardsley. The production was a grown up version of the fairytale we know.

By the time Cinderella descended from the ceiling, in a glowing pumpkin and sparkly Swarovski shoes, I was swooning; it was a total ballet orgasm. All the little mismatching details contributed to an overall story that was stronger and more magical than traditional incarnations of Cinderella.

Cinderella and the Prince danced at the ball, but it was her step-sisters, played for comedic effect, who stole the scene. And then the Prince began a worldly and bizarre search for the perfect foot. Amelia Earhart represented his American investigation, he encountered Bizet’s Carmen in Spain, and beautiful ballerinas from Tokyo and Bombay tried on the lost slipper before he found HER. Then I got my romance.

The dancing was lovely and the costumes beautiful, but it was truly David Boechler’s inventive production design that stole the show.

Watch video of the ballet here and get tickets to upcoming productions.

~ Zoe Shapiro

Swooning at Cinderella reminds us how much we love the National Ballet of Canada

Submitted by Anonymous on Sun, 11/21/2010 - 16:45

Swooning at Cinderella reminds us how much we love the National Ballet of Canada

The dancing was lovely and the costumes beautiful, but it was truly David Boechler’s inventive production design that stole the show.

Watch video of the ballet here and get tickets to upcoming productions.

~ Zoe Shapiro

So You Think You Can Dance Tour

Submitted by Anonymous on Thu, 10/01/2009 - 14:26

So You Think You Can Dance Tour

by Caitlyn Holroyd

Lining up outside the Air Canada Centre this past Tuesday with the hordes of 14 year-old girls and 50 year-old women, all equally as eager to see the American version of the So You Think You Can Dance tour, had me a bit uneasy.

It was clear that I wasn’t nearly as into the show as those lining up for $50 SYTYCD t-shirts, or the girls in front of me waving seizure-inducing phallic glow sticks. In fact, I didn’t even know who had won the season five competition…I had only been watching the show every now and then. I had no choice but to fake it. Fortunately for me, the show wasn’t half-bad.

The night opened with the show’s executive producer and judge, Nigel Lythgoe, counting down the top 10 worst auditions from this season’s show, with the obvious fan favourite being a guy who calls himself Sex battling it out with equally bad Ukrainian dancer Leonid “Wise Leo” Knyshov. This segment had me laughing-so far, so good.

Next, the top 10 dancers emerged from backstage wearing matching white uniforms and impressing the audience with their back flips and fancy footwork. Two guests were also introduced—number 11 and 12 had been invited on tour. The next two hours consisted of the best couple's dance numbers from the season along with group routines and individual showcases-after their elimination segment from the show was shown. The obviously fan favourite was popper Phillip Chbeeb, who seemed genuinely surprised to receive a standing ovation after his individual dance.

My only complaint about the show would be that the dancers were required to do comedy bits between each of the dances, which the majority failed at—notably their attempt at promoting their new exercise DVD by having one of the dancers dressed up in ridiculous tights and speaking in an exaggerated tone. Note to producers: these kids are dancers, not actors. Other than that, it was a pretty good night and I did a pretty good job blending in with the die-hard fans surrounding me, SYTYCD t-shirt or not.

Seducing Silverman

Submitted by haley on Wed, 07/22/2009 - 11:06

Seducing Silverman

When a male compatriot and I made our way to Massey Hall last Friday, for the Just For Laughs Gala hosted by Sarah Silverman, we had one goal in mind. Not comedy, seduction. Talking our way into the pants and hearts of Silverman and her balding associate, David Cross. We pocketed a small bottle of whiskey, to grease the wheels. Too bad Silverman admitted in her opening monologue that she doesn't drink. FOILED! Don't worry, Sarah, we'll do it for you.

Balancing through a fit of hysterical laughter on one of those Massey Hall chairs while Sarah plays guitar and talks about pussy is a supreme challenge, an occupational hazard in the art of comedian seducing. Other on-the-job obstacles include listening to cheesy pseudo-rock played live by an in-house band behind a screen, and having your heart broken when the comedian of your dreams (what's up, Mr. Cross) performs a half-assed set devoted to time-mugs, and other useless items you can buy through Sky Mall. But the beauty of a showcase, especially for the comedian-seducer, is that when one comic disappoints, there's another to take his place.

Cue John Mulaney, adorable SNL writer and man-child, who opened the evening riffing on Hyundais and being amazed anyone could fear him after dark. Could he be my stand-up stand-in? Or Emmy winner Louis C.K? I don't know-I'm not ready to take on the responsibility of dating a single parent. Plus, he's pretty convinced driving an Infiniti means he's going to hell-so it's not really worth a long term investment. Getting stoned at the Bata Shoe Museum with Arj Barker is much more my speed-and then I'd get Cheetos.

As the comics came out for their final bow, piggybacking each other and failing in an attempt to make a human pyramid, we saw our chance-one quick dash backstage, and the funny people would be ours! But alas, a stark stare-down from security, and the unfortunate realization that we'd shared too much whiskey between us to dash fast anywhere, meant our evening ended eating New York Fries in the basement of the Eaton Centre, instead of backstage smoking joints with the who's-who of popular comedy.

Whatever. My friend's no Jimmy Kimmel, and Haley Mulaney sounds pretty fucking stupid, anyway.

Dear Debra DiGiovanni:

Submitted by haley on Fri, 07/17/2009 - 16:10

Dear Debra DiGiovanni:

We sit down with the Queen of Canadian Comedy and leave with 10 reasons she should be our new best friend

By Jen McNeely

We played coy, but stand up comedian Debra GioVanni is one of our idols and when asked if she would want to take a road trip to Kentucky with John Candy, we secretly meant with us.

It’s easy to admire her humble disposition, become fascinated with her rumbly Muppet voice and awe struck with her capabilities to erupt any audience into raucous laughter but we were over the moon when over a very dark chat at Absolut Comedy Bar it became obvious that not only do we love her – but we gotta lot in common too:

1. Her nightmares consist of vomiting on stage. If that ever happened she may have to move to the Ukraine and just shut up. Luckily for her legions of fans, that’s never happened. (Our biggest fear is accidentally revealing our pubic hair to a group of young men as we stir them chili. Unfortunately, that happened.)

2. Her career in comedy began after Ryerson professors kindly suggested that her talents may be better suited for the stage versus illustrating fashion: “Ryerson was a big eye opener. I had couple of courses where you had to be a presenter. At the end of the first year I had two professors come up to me and say “Debra, nice meeting you – good work this year but umm ahh, you are in the wrong thing – you should be entertaining people.” (When our final Drama ISP consisted of an interpretive dance to CATS – we were requested to leave the theatre. Forever.)

3. Her first audiences were grade seven kids from Oakville – she took them on tours around the City TV building, kinda like Kenneth from 30 Rock. (Our first job was also at City TV. When we got reamed out for not delivering a tape to the news desk, we locked ourselves in a payphone across the street and cried.)

4. Assholes in Hamilton once had the audacity to throw spitballs at her. (Assholes at Queen and Spadina slapped me with a two by four. It’s dangerous in the big city.)

5. If she ever met Carol Burnett in person, she would be absolutely dumbstruck and may cry tears of joy. (We’d whine really loud “WE LOVE YOU MISS HANNIGAN!!” and then somersault down a staircase.)

6. Watching people lick orange cheeto fuzz off their fingers in the subway makes us both want to hurl. Debra DiG likens it to eating in a toilet. And if we ever catch you in a Porto toilet eating cheezies – that’s a deal breaker, ladies.

7. She prefers scatological humour to in-law jokes. (We almost prefer scatological humour to sex… and especially like it when both are intertwined. Ewwww.)

8. She watches far too many TV shows about rape, and isn’t sure why. Yeah – we had that conversation with our shrink.

9. Her favourite open mic in Toronto is SPIRITS bar and Grill on a Wednesday night. We simply love spirits in general.

10. Her pet peeves? Debra crackles, “I gotta lot of hate! I can’t abide by people who act like they just landed on earth like twenty minutes ago, people who can’t handle an ATM – like what year is this? Let me check my watch – I’m pretty sure it’s 2009!!!” Similarly, we have no tolerance for technology defunct space cadets.

Doing stand up is scary but Debra does it so well. Forget Miss Hannigan – WE LOVE YOU DEBRA DI GIOVANNNNNNNNNI!!!

Just for Laughs

Submitted by haley on Wed, 07/15/2009 - 11:19

Just for Laughs

Shows You Don't Want To Miss
by Heather Christie

Show me someone who doesn’t get a delicious, warm feeling when watching comedy, and I’ll show you a poor SOB who hasn’t peed their pants laughing. (Sad face for them!) Seriously folks, cheesy laughtracks aside, engaging in a few good knee-slappin', belly grabbin' chuckles not only feels pretty damn good, but it’s good for you. Laugh more = live longer, it’s the easiest math you’ll ever do! And how convenient! Just for Laughs Toronto is going on this week, so you’ve got ample opportunity to lengthen your lifespan at a tonne of venues all week long! Here are some of your best bets:

July 17 at Massey Hall— Sarah Silverman and Friends
So what’s the big deal with Sarah Silverman? Oh, I dunno, she’s only the goddess of comedy, the quote-unquote “funniest woman alive”. Ok, fine. Who are her stupid friends? Ummm…David Cross? Of Arrested Development fame?!?! And Louis CK?! Who I saw in December and he blew my face off. I don’t know Sarah’s other friends, but I’m sure they’re pretty tight too.

July 18 at Massey Hall—BritCom Gala

The British are coming the British are coming! John Cleese hosts what is sure to be a coconut-cracking, Fawlty night of Knights who say Nih!, with a few Hail Britannias (Hail!? Where?!) thrown in for good measure.

July 16-18 at Second City— Bo Burnham

This 18 year old began burning up the YouTube-sphere when he was a mere lad of 16 with his off-colour tunes—one was about why Helen Keller is the perfect woman—and now continues, named recently by Entertainment Weekly as one of the 12 rising stars of comedy. Besides, he’s a cutie too—we can say that now that he’s no longer a minor.

July 17-18 at Panasonic Theatre— The Nasty Show

For those of us who love dirty humour for which our grandmas would undoubtedly wash our mouths out with Irish Spring, this is the place to be! A perennial favourite at the original Just for Laughs in M-T-L, the show has finally made its way west. Not for the easily offended.

Fringe Photo Gallery

Submitted by Anonymous on Tue, 07/14/2009 - 17:41

Fringe Photo Gallery

SDTC photographer Melanie Ormston got The Dirt on Dirty Girls at Factory Theatre - check out her Fringe Photo Gallery.

House of Payne

Submitted by haley on Tue, 07/14/2009 - 12:22

House of Payne

While baring your breasts is one thing, baring your soul is another.

by Ashley Botting

The first time I saw comedian Nikki Payne perform, she stood on a shoddy Toronto stage, with her bare mammaries painted to look like cats. That was a long time ago, and she’s grown up a lot since then.

Giving your dad one of your kidneys will do that to you.

Her one-woman show My Big Fat Donated Kidney debuts at this year’s Just For Laughs Festival, and is a comedic chronicle of that very personal and frightening experience of saving her father’s life in November 2007.

While baring your breasts is one thing, baring your soul is another.

“It’s a scary process, writing something that’s so true, and so close to the bone,” Payne confessed to me one Friday morning. “It’s daunting to write something that is heartwarming and is personal, but still funny.”

Heartwarming and personal are relatively untrodden territories for Nikki’s comedy. She is known mostly for an in-your-face, unpredictable approach to standup that has garnered her quite a bit of attention both at home and south of the border, where she appeared on NBC’s Last Comic Standing.

“I’ve never been this vulnerable on stage before,” she admits. “I find that I’m nervous and scared and petrified, and that’s really cool.”

Audiences think it’s cool too. Payne said, “I was really worried that people wouldn’t connect with it, because not everybody’s donated a kidney, but what happened slowly over time with writing this, is that you don’t need to, everybody has a family that makes them crazy. I was finding that people were laughing harder at the stuff I was talking about with the kidney, then the regular standup.” She went on to add that, in her eyes, the soul of the show is that, “you can love people that make you insane.”

If her lisp, her brief bout of Bell’s Palsy (an affliction that paralyses one side of the face), and her losing an internal organ haven’t stopped her from continuing her comedic quest, nothing will. Anthony Clark, the host of Last Comic Standing, proclaimed once as Nikki left the stage, “I don’t know if it’s really fair to laugh at people with issues like that.”

In Nikki’s case, it’s not only fair, it’s expected.

My Big Fat Donated Kidney will be showcased at Comedy Bar (945 Bloor Street West) on Friday, July 17 and Saturday, July 18.

Tickets are $20 and can be purchased online at boxoffice.hahaha.com or www.comedybar.ca

Raunchy Jurassic Park Has Makings of a Future Cult Classic

Submitted by haley on Mon, 07/13/2009 - 14:02

Raunchy Jurassic Park Has Makings of a Future Cult Classic

By Jen Houston

If you were lucky enough to catch the Jurassic Park shadowcast at Bloor Cinema during Fringe Festival this year, you know that this bawdy version of the blockbuster mega-hit has what it takes to develop a devout following. Unlike other established shadowcasts like Rocky Horror, the PG-13 scenarios in this film required a complete makeover to match the lewd humour craved by attendees. Burlesque velociraptors stripped down to nipple pasties, a Drag-Rex tore through its scenes stomping the stage with ferocity, and human heroes were smacked around with marital aids. Each actor brutally skewered the Hollywood clichés plaguing their character, playing their parts cartoonishly to the crowd’s shrill hoots and hollers.

A movie as successful as Jurassic Park deserves to be publicly revered with ridicule for generations to come, and this production has set in motion a future of extreme fan participation for the iconic flick. At the final show Saturday night, audience members had already started to come up with catch phrases. When a sexy raptor made its way towards children in hiding, several people chimed “You can fog up my kitchen porthole anytime!” And whenever the excitable young Tim was named, a rowdy bunch would quote back South Park’s “Timmay!” Others pointed out a Spielberg error, shouting “Vegetarians don’t eat Jell-O!” when the self-described herbivore Lex is about to fill her face with the gelatin treat, and many joined in on the mooing vocal stylings of a choir of brachiosauruses. A cereal food fight used by the cast as a metaphor for the “could we/should we” debate could have future audiences bringing their own Corn Flakes and joining in, and the charging gallimimus herd that trampled through the aisles (played by seemingly every crew member) had some people looking as if they were considering running with them. While no plans have been made for future dates, we’re already anticipating the raucous and coordinated audience that’s sure to gather for the next production.

FRINGE BINGE: Weekend 1

Submitted by haley on Wed, 07/08/2009 - 11:14

FRINGE BINGE: Weekend 1

Heather Christie

I’m trying to cut back, I really am. YES--I know it’s unhealthy, but I just needed a quick fix. Just get off my back about it, ok?! You just don’t know what it’s like being an irredeemable Fringer.

Yes, folks, as you may have guessed from last’s week’s preview, the Fringe Fest is here. 150 shows playing over ten days, some delivering fireworks-and-fab theatre, some—well—make you wish you’d stayed home. This weekend, I saw seven—count ‘em—shows. And by Sunday at midnight, I did indeed feel like a bit of a junkie.

The binge began Saturday afternoon with Zdenka Now! at the Royal St. Georges Auditorium. Despite what else could be said about ZN!, Precious Chong is quite the thespo-chameleon: throughout the performance she becomes an Inuit rapper, an LCBO worker lacking self-actualization, a British woman with a husband suffering from dementia, a closeted GM sales rep, the list goes on. ZN! is framed as a talk show hosted by former Yugoslavian TV star, Zdenka, but that’s about where the cohesion ends. The video transitions between segments—rather than adding coherently to the overall body of the play—broadcast superfluous clips that clumsily distract the audience during Chong’s costume changes. Adam Lazarus, ZN!’s director, does not adequately rise to the challenge of putting together such a multi-faceted, interesting, and complicated piece dealing with diversity and prejudice in a mixed—socially, culturally, and otherwise--society. Sure, you’ll get a few laughs and a few stories that play to the heart strings, you’ll even get some ideas to chew on, but this production still needs some work.

Next up was Weaverville Waltz at St. Vladimir’s.

Actually, next up was a Thai take-out pic-nic on the lawn at St. Vladimir’s and then searching desperately for a garbage receptacle that was neither overflowing nor Saran Wrapped shut. Then, Weaverville Waltz.

This is another one-person. Randy Rutherford, who wrote and performs it, does an absolutely beautiful job as both a performer and story-teller. A simple chair and table make up the whole of the set, and although Rutherford is dressed in plain clothes he vivifies his characters so completely that you could swear there are five different actors on stage instead of one. WW is rife with the heartache of growing up, moving on, and returning home to fruitlessly search for a past that has disappeared forever.

Sunday dawned ripe for another day of Fringing. From 4pm until midnight, I camped out at the Factory Studio Theatre seeing the good, the bad, and most definitely the ugly. Curtain for Dirty Girls was at 4pm and it was some of the most fun at the theatre I’ve had in awhile, not just at the Fringe. Kat Sandler has put forth a hilarious script about a germophobic and slightly fey king looking for a clean virgin to wed, and yes, as Beatrice stated in her preview, there is indeed a pie fight in addition to a mud fight! Go for the fun.

Tim Murphy’s Blind to Happiness —playing after Dirty Girls-- is the phenomenal one-man-show (another!) about a 32-year-old 4-time-school-drop-out dishwasher who is somehow happy as a clam—when he’s not worrying about turning into his recently-deceased alcoholic, blind, and diabetic father. Murphy seamlessly glides between characters and delivers a story that undoubtedly makes audience members re-examine how they choose to define happiness. A thinking-person’s show.

Then along came Baggage. I should have bagged it. Shaun McCarthy delivers a self-indulgent funeral march through his rather bland dating history; he could have made the performance interesting, sassy, and funny, but it most certainly wasn’t. A chunk of the audience—McCarthy’s friends, presumably--laughed uproariously at otherwise oblique moments which made the whole production feel like an inside joke to which most audience members were not privy. The play ended in some drippy spiel that rang of a glorified personal ad that. Maybe I’m bitter because McCarthy’s gayness entails that I do not meet the specifications of his List, but it’s more likely that this was just a dry hour-long personal therapy session for McCarthy and McCarthy alone. If anything, this show reminded me why I didn’t go into psych.

Next up was In a Magic Kingdom—yet ANOTHER one-person show. This one by Celeste Sansregret meditated extensively on death and her experiences with it in her life. There was some great story-telling and—again—the content was deeply autobiographical, but it lacked a certain je-ne-sais-quoi. Sansregret is a charismatic enough actress, but the show just ain’t got the spark.

That said, In a Magic Kingdom was infinitely better than what came next, Bear and Fox’s Big Adventure in Married. Good god. While I appreciate that watching such remarkably horrible theatre is a rare privilege, I wanted to pull my hair out and use it to wipe my tears of embarrassment and rage off of my face. Bear and Fox—monickers for Kip McCormick and Shelby Rochelle (Paul Frank and Mel Paraboo, respectively) who run a musical marriage counseling session. The music is fine, and even at times sparingly clever. But Kip and Shelby’s inane banter makes you cringe with its idiocy. While ironically poor counseling could easily be the subject of quite a few knee-slappers, Frank and Paraboo extinguish any humour’s short life with a pair of molten-hot needle-nose pliers and a clumsily-spiked baseball bat. And then they asked the audience—all six of us—for questions. I believe a tumbleweed rolled across the stage, screaming LIBERTY! To be fair, The Casio keyboard and its mad beatzz was sweet, I guess.

Stay tuned for Fringe Binge Part Deux!