Honourable Women

Where to start with this so-so Stratford Festival production of Julius Caesar? This early play, not regarded as one of Shakespeare’s better pieces, isn’t improved any by the casting of women in the lead roles. I was hoping there would be some layered resonance on the current discussion about gender & representation but if there is it was under too many layers. An arrogant & ambitious ruler meets a bad end. Assassins pay the price of their actions. 

Seana McKenna does not portray Caesar as being particularly arrogant or ambitious. She handles the role well but seems merely content to give the lines a well enunciated delivery. Michelle Giroux as Mark Antony invests the character with urgency & emotional connection. She handles the slyly manipulative “lend me your ears” speech very well. Now this a character with ambitions. Also good was Jonathan Goad as Marcus Brutus. 

Director Scott Wentworth does able work with the ‘rabble’ crowd scenes so they have good energy & theatricality – I really enjoy the opening of Act 2 with the rabble scattered throughout the theatre. Slow motion battle scenes & Gregorian chant didn’t work for me. I did like the hand washing nod to McBeth though.

When men play women, cross-dressing or doing drag, they are judged by how well they pass as women, so it is fair to do the same for when women play men. Seana is the most successful on surface appearance, Michelle is okay, Irene Poole as Cassius could pass as a teenage boy not as an adult male. Other women cast as men in the production are more androgynous than masculine. 


I was happy to see Julius Caesar and this is a solid production. I also appreciated the casting of women in men’s roles – this sort of gender play, only reversed, was the law in Shakespeare’s time. Maybe it’s time for a really tradition production where men play all the roles. Scott Wentworth would make a brilliant Lady McBeth.

PS: No one says: “Great Caesar’s ghost.” Also, I could not get that classic Canadian comedy moment “Julie, don’t go!  Julie, don’t go!  But he wouldn’t listen!” out of my mind: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rR_5h8CzRcI

Other summer reviews:

Long Day’s Journey Into Night: “a ghost haunting the past” https://wp.me/p1RtxU-30f 

Coriolanus: “My rage is gone” https://wp.me/p1RtxU-31K 

The King and I: The King and My Memories https://wp.me/p1RtxU-31Y 

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“a ghost haunting the past”

Our first of this year’s Stratford productions was Eugene O’Neill‘s Long Day’s Journey Into Night at the Studio Theatre. I don’t know what this reveals about either my sense of humour or about my attachment to trivia but when my partner asks where something misplaced might be I have been known to reply ‘have you looked in the box beside the wedding dress’ – which he knows is a reference to Long Day’s. 

I have seen at least two versions of Long Days on film – one, I think was a TV version starting Olivier – the other was Hepburn with her hands grasping at nothing in the air and muttering about her wedding dress. All very tragic, melodramatic & talky. But Long Day’s is a surprising contemporary play: addict mother living in blame & shame; alcoholic father living in regret for lost glory; alcoholic son following his Dad’s career footsteps & failing; another drunken son who tried to break free now dying of consumption. All caught in a string quartet of blame, shame, denial & retreating to the past. A few tweaks & this could be today.

I throughly enjoyed this production. The performers played well off each other, though Seana McKenna as the mother held our attention whenever she was on stage, & even when she wasn’t. When she wasn’t I longed for her to be there as the others never felt as invested in their roles as Seana did.

The staging was effective in the intimate space of the Studio Theatre. We had seats in row B so it felt like we were sitting in the room itself. The fog horn was resonant & at times underscored the emotional flow with it’s inevitability & a sense that the family’s emotional fog would always come rolling in.

Although I enjoyed the show I did not find it entertaining. The production was more a museum piece than one that offered us anything fresh in its presentation. The Festival, which has been reimagining classic pieces in ways which challenge audiences, offers no challenge in this production.


The Physicists is a ‘comedy’ of ideologies as opposed to one of clever word play or physical pratfalls. Originally produced in 1962, the cold war sensibility remains strong, so strong that the attempts to update it with references to nano-technology seemed forced.


making tracks at 1001 Queen W

I enjoyed the levels of distrust, of identity & systems of control. Three men pretending to be someone they are not, two of them, in fact, pretending to be someone pretending to be someone they are not – all, naturally, confined to an asylum. One of them says something to the effect that this is the one place he is safe to be who he is.


making more tracks at 1001 Queen W

Murders happen, levels of identity are revealed, power changes hands with each line of dialogue at some points. In the end it turns out that the power rests not in spiritual values, political ideology but in the hands of the corporation – in this case – she who has the most money has the final say.


tracks made at 1001 Queen W during a brain rental

The ensemble cast is tight, they play off each other well, handle the science talk with ease and even sound as if they understand the theories. It was great to see Seana McKenna in a role where she wasn’t a suffering mother, queen or lover. Given a Anna Wintoresque look she made being Fraulein Doctor chic. Wayne Best as the raincoat clad detective was excellent, not that the the others weren’t, but his murder-weary text was rich and funny. I also appreciated the lack of comic book accents. German Swiss names were given exact pronunciation, but the rest of the dialogue was not. If you are looking for a blackly satiric play about political & scientific ideology this is for you.

Check out my review of Love’s Labours Lost: http://wp.me/p1RtxU-1ik.


becoming touch


I am becoming

less visual

less visionary


replaces fantasy


become physical facts


find expression

in actual indulgence

I want to touch

I touch

without first

testing imagination

touch adds

new fuel to the fire


November 1 – 30 Participating NaNoWriMo



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Mother Courage

Back to Stratford earlier this week to see Mother Courage and her Children. I’ve seen this various production of this play over the years and was looking forward to what vision Martha Henry brought to it. Working within Brecht’s ‘deconstruction’ of theatrical artifice can produce wonderful results.

children run kids, war is coming

Mother Courage is, as you know, an allegorical figure blah blah blah – who cares, right? Regardless of the intellectual construct the play has to entertain as much as it seeks to educate. Sadly I found this more on the educational side of things.

The production is stolid, deliberate and staid. Nothing fresh has been brought to it. It’s not as if, like, say Waiting For Godot, in which every stage direction must be followed from costume to gender of cast.

redhat who needs hats in war

A few years ago MacB was set in worn torn Africa & borught something new to the text in doing so. This production is pedestrian in staging, from costumes to lighting. The songs are fine, well-sung and were the best part of the show.

The cast is excellent – Seanna McKenna brings some energy to Mother but never really connects. I know Brecht didn’t want the audience from getting caught up emotionally but there is a difference, to me, between his temporal distance and performers disinterest in their characters.

toys the war on toys

Past productions I’ve seen may have not had the high caliber of Stratford but they had more energy and faster flow. They left me satisfied. This one was like taking your medicine.


October 19 – feature – Cabaret Noir – Pinebow




Say It


often it seems all they have to say

is that they live to have something to say

that the word is what keeps the alive

keeps them going

that the opportunity to share the word

is a struggle worth fighting for

that this is the revolution

that the chance to be heard is innate primal

that they’d fight to the death

for the chance to say their piece

which is about

how much they need to fight to say their words


I wait for them to get beyond this point

they have an audience here

who wants to hear them

who needs to hear more

than how important this is

how hard it is to struggle

to say what has to be said

isn’t there more to be said

than how hard hard the struggle is

to say what they have to say


what the fuck do you have say

get to the point

stop dancing around gasping for air

look for something fresh to spout

instead of falling back

on the easy outs

of how pure your love for some lady is

how there are starving children

struggling to say what they got to say

maybe what they want to say is feed us

yeah we love you to give us the word

but that word doesn’t fill our stomach

doesn’t put a roof over our head

doesn’t stop the abuse by people

who shout us down

like you shout us down

with their need to be heard



King John

King John is one of Shakespeare’s rarely performed history plays. I was happy to see it for the first time as it is one of the plays that is possible to see for the first time. Some of them are so familiar one doesn’t have to see them to know what they are about – i.e. Hamlet.


The production, at the Patterson Theatre, was unadorned. Chandeliers were the only constant stage setting – a few chairs brought on & off as needed. Costumes defined characters well & the Stratford costume and wig departments never disappoint.

I found the pacing of the first half a little uneven, the second was better. Performances, over-all, were good. Perhaps hitting end lines, rhymes a bit too hard. A few voices lacked projection though they could be heard. I wanted more out of Pat Collins in her exchanges with Seana McKenna.


Tom McCamus, in the title roll, invested John with a clearly quirky & slightly comic personality but I never felt he was connected to the character. At one point struggling as much with his billowing cape, footwork as he did with his character.


I enjoyed Seana as Constance, the grieving mother – her pain was clear and her political aims paled, even to her, as it became clear the cost that would be paid by her son. Also good was Graham Abbey, as Philip. Playful, brave and emotional by turns with an energetic and well thought out performance. Plus he managed to look fetching in bulky breeches.

Plot: betrayals, greeds, even a bit of love – the events carry the subtext which is – everything is a commodity – from morals, faith and in particular loyalty. Highly recommended.



Surrender To The Light


the performer is never just

a member of the audience

maybe a face in the crowd

always aware

that  even when not performing

there a gap between doing and witnessing

the performer in the audience

thinks how would I do that

thinks they aren’t appreciative enough

thinks good lighting

nice intonation

rarely thinks what does this piece say to me


this inability to be audience

becomes even acuter

when the performer

knows they have to make an entrance

leave their seat go on the stage

take a place


for five   twenty minutes


until that point

the listening mind

isn’t really hearing

what the others do

can’t relax

be just an audience member

a mere adulator


can’t even remember


their own performance

losing all sense of memory

in that surrender to the light

superman o superman