MacEwan’s take on Churchill a whirlwind
Quirky MacEwan production at Theatre Lab explores human connection in digital age
What: Love and Information, running until Feb. 10 Where: Theatre Lab, Allard Hall, call 780-497-4470 for tickets, or email boxoffice@macewan.ca. There may be 10 million documents attached to WikiLeaks, but I’m not sure one of them will help you find your car keys. This, of course, is an utter simplification of Caryl Churchill’s Love and Information, the latest production by the theatre arts program at MacEwan University. But while not one character in the play says “Sweetie, I think they are on top of the dryer,” you cannot leave this evening at Theatre Lab without realizing that information is nothing without love, without connection. Director Dave Horak’s fast-paced take on this recent work by one of Britain’s most renowned contemporary playwrights is a whirlwind featuring 22 student actors playing 100 roles in 57 scenes. It exudes, at points, the air of a carnival. Even as the audience trickles in at the beginning of the evening, masked performers are singing, painting, offering a tarot card reading, dispensing chocolate. All of the 57 scenes are standalone, and brief. They all deal, in some way, with love or information. But rarely do the two concepts intersect. Rarely is the information delivered in ways that makes it meaningful, or brings hearts closer. In contemplating the information overload that is the hallmark of modern Western culture, the play questions its value. Nearly 80 years of age, Churchill is as fresh and contemporary as she was when breaking ground in the 1970s and ’80s with works such as Cloud Nine and Top Girls. With Love and Information, she shows herself not about to retreat from tough topics. But her approach is happily free of judgment. It’s just the facts. So many facts. Again, this is precisely the point. When Churchill mounted Love and Information in 2012 with London’s Royal Court Theatre, information overload was ripping through the culture like a tornado. She doesn’t rant about that, or look bitterly back to a simpler time. Churchill simply makes us wonder. A character brings his beloved a bouquet, red blooms extended, heart on sleeve. And the other person? Just doesn’t get it. “I think a green vase because of the primary colours, and if they were blue, I’d put them in an orange vase and if they were yellow I’d put them in a purple vase,” says the recipient of the flowers, entirely missing, or wilfully avoiding, the message of the flowers. Keeping track of the rapid-fire dialogue that characterizes the play leaves audience members feeling like they just stepped off the Tilt-a-Whirl. We are disoriented, struggling to keep body and soul on the same plane. Which is precisely the point of the well-orchestrated, 90-minute production — the quality of contemporary life cannot be measured by the sheer volume of stuff we know. Without relationship, it’s merely noise. One character spouts a genetic code. Another dissects the brains of fluffy chicks after cutting their heads off with scissors, as if that justifies the tiny bit of information about a chicken’s memory that’s gleaned from this process. Churchill’s characters are at one with their cellphones — when times get tough, they look to Facebook for relief. Memory is a key theme in Love and Information — Churchill shows that characters need to be emotionally linked in order for information to be retained, to make sense. The play has some dark elements, but mostly it’s quirky and fun. The many characters are surprisingly well-wrought, considering each is unique, with stories that sometimes play out for only a few seconds. It was also a thrill to be part of the first show held in the new black box space, Theatre Lab, located in Allard Hall, which opened this past fall. Megan Koshka’s set design, a collection of boxes that can be moved as required and placed against soaring screens and shades on three sides, is a perfect canvas for the work of video designers Robyn Ayes and Scott Spidell. The sound in the black box also resonates crisply, a credit to the work of Love and Information sound designer Wade Staples.