Daringly creative Much Ado shows Bard at his best

THEATRE

MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING

Written by William Shakespeare. Directed by John Murphy. A Bard on the Beach production. At the BMO Mainstage on Thursday, June 15. Continues to September 23

The rapid-fire insults and cutting, 2 contemptuous barbs between Much Ado About Nothing’s Beatrice and Benedick account for some of William Shakespeare’s wittiest and most delightful dialogue. When text sparks like that on the page, the transition to stage must ignite fireworks or else the whole endeavour flops. Thankfully, Bard on the Beach delivers a near-flawless production that’s charming, hilarious, and daringly creative.

Here, Much Ado’s updated setting is a 1950s Italian film studio (highlighting wonderful work by costume designer Christine Reimer and scenery designer Pam Johnson) where fiercely opinionated Beatrice (Amber Lewis) and arrogant Benedick (Kevin Macdonald) are movie stars cast opposite each other in director Don Pedro’s (Ian Butcher) new film. Benedick tries to dissuade his friend Claudio (Julien Galipeau) from marrying Beatrice’s cousin, Hero (Parmiss Sehat), but their friends and family turn the tables on them when they trick the warring duo into falling in love. When the villainous Dona Johnna (Laara Sadiq) fools Claudio into believing Hero is unchaste, he publicly humiliates her at the altar and she collapses in despair. The others tell Claudio that Hero is dead while they try to disprove the slanderous accusations. Eventually the truth is revealed, and there are two weddings by play’s end.

John Murphy’s direction is masterful. In lesser hands, the Italian-cinema setting could have felt like a gimmick, but the details are so precise and perfect that it’s impossible to resist. Murphy imbues the production with a real sense of joy while also making seriously impressive staging decisions that aren’t just entertaining or creative, but also deepen our connection to the text. A particularly spiteful exchange between Beatrice and Benedick unfolds as they share a choreographed dance that manages to be both sexy and funny simultaneously.

Good direction, of course, only takes us so far. The excellent cast does the rest of the heavy lifting, and they all look like they’re having the best time. Macdonald is particularly winning, an agile and intelligent comic actor with charisma and charm to spare. He’s also wise enough to know that this stage truly belongs to Lewis, who is brilliant. Her Beatrice is like a lion hunting prey and her weaponized disdain is spectacular. Every insult and diatribe is delivered with a perfect combination of humour, frustration, and snark, a wholly relatable trifecta for a woman who’s been actively opposing the patriarchy since the 16th century.

This is Shakespeare at his sharpest and most satisfying. Bravo.

CINERAMA > ANDREA WARNER

Created by Steven Hill and Alex Lazaridis Ferguson in collaboration with Delia Brett. Directed by Steven Hill. A Fight With a Stick Performance production. At Spanish Banks on Friday, June 16. Continues to June 30

Fight With a Stick Performance 2 has been upending the very definition of theatre since it used to be Leaky Heaven Circus, and its newest offering, Cinerama, is no exception. The group describes it as “live cinema” but with no actors, story, or plot. If that sounds like heady stuff, well, it is, but it’s also a wildly original, unforgettable experience.

The instructions that Fight With a Stick emails in advance of Cinerama’s start time are both frustratingly cryptic and curiously precise. They also come with a warning: “Be prepared to get wet up to your knees.” The “knees”, it turns out, are relative.

Cinerama begins with a long, solitary walk out to low tide at Spanish Banks. Every audience member is given noise-cancelling headphones for the walk, and organizers stagger our departures to ensure we’re each trudging across the beach alone. At the destination, there are wooden chairs all facing the same direction, spread out into small groups of four or five and separated over a large stretch of sand. We’re all staring across the water and into the horizon, shore to our left, the ever-present line of oil tankers to our right.

It is a perfect day: endless blue sky, sunlight glinting off the water, the tide warm on my feet as my toes sink into the sand and seaweed tangles around my ankles. Small portable speakers begin quietly playing an almost continuous loop of urban-industrial sounds—trains speeding by, an airplane taking off, the clanking of metal on metal— interrupting our quiet communion with nature. As a statement on the effects of urban sprawl on the environment, or the ways industry is disrupting humanity’s connection to the earth, it’s not subtle but it is effective.

The water climbs up my calves. In the distance, five pairs of people start walking toward us carrying what look like enormous empty frames. When they reach our seats, they position themselves throughout the group, and each large rectangle has the effect of transforming the space into a de facto drive-in. In a feat of synchronization, the people holding the screens are tasked with repeatedly raising them a couple inches, and lowering them back down, almost imperceptibly small actions that momentarily change our view.

We’re all seeing the same thing but differently—each of us, for better or worse, at home in ourselves, our minds, and our own bodies. The tide continues to rise, my chair sinks deeper into the sand, and every time a wave hits me gently in the crotch, I can’t help but think, ‘I love you, Vancouver.’ Cinerama is a beautiful, weird, unforgettable work of art.

> ANDREA WARNER

Much Ado About Nothing