Mike was that kid who walked into the high school stage crew booth, saw the lighting board, and went ooooooooooooh. Now that he’s (mostly) all grown up, Mike keeps his foot in the door as a community-theatre producer, stage manager and administrator. In the audience, he’s a tremendous sucker for satire and parody, for improvisational and sketch-driven comedy, for farce and pantomime, and for cabaret of all types. His happiest Toronto theatrical memory is (re) Birth: E. E. Cummings in Song.
Shakespeare famously ripped off Romeo and Juliet from another poet, who borrowed it from a Frenchman, who jacked it from an Italian — and we’ve been merrily hacking away at it ever since. Which raises an obvious question: if we can slice and dice the script, why not the characters?
The Romeo and Juliet Chainsaw Massacre gleefully does precisely that during this year’s Toronto Fringe Festival, running madly through the text while a chainsaw-wielding maniac butchers most of Verona. It’s a showcase for some of Fringe’s top comedians, an above-average Shakespeare adaptation in its own right, and (OBLIGATORY PUN INCOMING) a bloody good time.
In Ring A Ding Dong Dandy, Ryan Beil and Graham Clark narrate an hour-long curated collection of classic wrestling clips, combining encyclopedic knowledge of the sport with Mystery Science Theatre 3000-style riffing. Its been wowing audiences in Vancouver, and now you can see it at the Toronto Fringe Festival. (And you should!)
In Coyote Collective’s Like A Generation, a Friendly Giant-ish children’s TV host learns that his show will be coming to an end. Assisted by his two biggest fans, he uses his final episode to prove that he still matters: that his legacy is worth upholding; that his gentle, nurturing approach still has value; and that he’s ultimately been a force for good in the world.
But those adult fans are no longer the impressionable children they once were, and when they start talking back to Mr. Flowers — bromides about sharing and working hard don’t always cut it in the real world — Generation transforms itself into the darkest and most challenging thing I’ve seen on a Fringe stage this season.
In a world where love is a crime, the two intrepid women of Alpha Delta 86 — a covert espionage unit — use every tool at their disposal to root out illicit feelings and ensure everyone keeps their hands to themselves.
The trouble is, they’d rather just eat cookies.
This low-key clown show won’t appeal to everyone, but it sort of snuck up behind me, appealing more and more as it went on, and by the end I was smiling. If you’re open to something quieter, and you’re a fan of physical and imaginative storytelling, this is a neat little hour.
Sarah Hagen, a touring concert pianist, has played all over the world: tiny towns in rural BC, cottage country in Ontario, vast auditoriums in Europe, Carnegie Hall — and now, the Tarragon Solo Room.
In her hour-long Perk up, pianist!, she blends music and storytelling to revisit the places, situations and encounters which have shaped her into the artist and the woman she has become. How much has she changed over the 30 years she’s been obsessed with her instrument, and what does that mean for the next 30?
Sarah Hagen, a touring concert pianist, has played all over the world: tiny towns in rural BC, cottage country in Ontario, vast auditoriums in Europe, Carnegie Hall — and now, the Tarragon Solo Room.