Love, death, and S&M: the Fringe has got it all

BOMBAY BLACK This is one of the most harrowing, unsettling, and mesmerizing plays I’ve ever seen. Ten hours after leaving the theatre, I’m still shaken by its uniquely poetic horror, and marvelling at the complexity of what acclaimed playwright Anosh Irani weaves in Bombay Black’s dense 75 minutes. Padma (Nimet Kanji) and her daughter, Apsara (Agam Darshi), live in an apartment by the sea where Apsara dances for men and Padma is, essentially, her madam. When the blind Kamal (Munish Sharma) arrives for his appointment, he upends their lives in unimaginable ways. The performances are all stellar, but Kanji is unforgettable as the diabolical Padma, who belongs in the hall of fame of horrifying fictional mothers. At the Vancity Culture Lab at the Cultch on September 13 (8:50 p.m.) and 16 (7:05 p.m.) > ANDREA WARNER

BRAIN MACHINE If this show were a Facebook post, it would qualify as one of the “clickbait thinkpieces” whose online prevalence Andrew Bailey laments (or maybe just observes) in this monologue. That’s not an insult: Brain Machine is fascinating, informative, personal, and relevant. Bailey subtly, skillfully braids the stories of the Internet’s inventors with his own experience of going viral; both his writing and his delivery are informed by his standup comedy skills. Example: “I hate things that are noisy and distracting, but I moved to Toronto anyway.” Go, learn, laugh, take hope. At Arts Umbrella on September 13 (6:15 p.m.), 14 (8 p.m.), 15 (9:45 p.m.), and 17 (6:15 p.m.) > KATHLEEN OLIVER

YOUR PRINCESS IS IN ANOTHER CASTLE Playwright-actors Nancy Kenny and Wes Babcock have crafted a live-wire satire set in a not-sodistant future wherein all the bees are dead and society’s obsession with reality television has ruined the world. Also, half the population is just mannequins. There are so many moments of brilliance here, and the hilarious dialogue is just one framable quote after another. Kenny is perfect as Princess Polly, reality-show famous and a once-principled train wreck, and Babcock’s pseudo–prince Charming is deliciously awful at every turn. The piece tackles everything from the environment and gender roles to politics and pop culture, plus countless other areas, but a sharper focus would make its social commentary even more effective. At Studio 1398 on September 14 (8:35 p.m.) and 16 (8:10 p.m.) > AW

FIGMENTALLY This is a wonderful and weird little story about a struggling writer whose book seems to come to life as she’s writing it. Even though it’s about a writer, there are refreshingly few lines of dialogue. Performed by Drea Lusion and Eric Parthum, a pair of real-life children’s circus arts instructors who are charming, expressive, and funny, this wildly imaginative show is based mostly in movement, physical comedy, acrobatics, and, of course, circus arts. There’s an incredible sequence involving Lusion and a chair, which is gut-bustingly funny, but also beautifully conveys just how difficult the act of sitting down to write can be. The audience wasn’t just spellbound; we were kids again, dazzled, delighted, and awed. At the Revue Stage on September 15 (5 p.m.) and 16 (4 p.m.) > AW

MULTIPLE ORGANISM Here’s a show unlike anything you’ve ever seen. Even die-hard fans of Mind of a Snail, whose work is usually family-friendly, are in for a surprise—and a treat. This adults-only show begins with a projection of a mouth on a naked female torso whose breasts have been painted with big googly eyes. This character walks us through its daily grooming routine, which contains surprise after hilarious surprise. The show’s freewheeling inventiveness, technical precision, visual and acoustic texture, and giddy transgressiveness (a toilet talks, toothbrushes engage in X-rated activities) make it a must-see for anyone who appreciates artistic risk— and wildly original success. At the Firehall Arts Centre on September 14 (5 p.m.), 15 (10:15 p.m.), 16 (noon), and 17 (4:15 p.m.) > KO

7 WAYS TO DIE: A LOVE STORY Rachel and Irving live across the hall from one another. They’re timid individuals but each seems to like the other, at least a little bit. However, Rachel has a few other things on her mind, like constantly finding new ways to try to end her life. This is going to be triggering for some people, but the reward is a gently morbid love story that’s difficult, funny, and a little weird. Staged in the spirit of a silent film or an old-fashioned cartoon, 7 Ways to Die sees playwrights and performers Keltie and Alexander Forsyth wear large masks that completely obscure their faces. In the Forsyths’ bodies, Rachel and Irving are vividly human, and beautifully convey the anguish and hope that bring these two into each other’s worlds. At Studio 16 on September 16 (6:30 p.m.) and 17 (3:45 p.m.) > AW

GRACELESS GRACE Grace Monroe is an 18-year-old who dreams of becoming a famous dancer and getting out of Hope, B.C. The only problem is, she really doesn’t have any talent. Natalie Collins’s solo show presents as lighthearted and quirky, but there’s also some cunning commentary about the alleged narcissism of millennials, whom the media keeps denigrating for their socialmedia addictions, empty insta-fame goals, and lack of work ethic. Collins is a charming performer, and the stiffness of her limbs perfectly conveys Grace’s inherent awkwardness, which makes every audition sequence in particular a total delight. As she finally grapples with the truth—she’s a terrible dancer— Grace lashes out, and this is where Collins truly shines, in the craggy outrage of adolescent impatience and crumbling bravado. At the Waterfront Theatre on September 15 (10:25 p.m.) and 17 (7:15 p.m.) > AW

EVERYBODY DIES IN DECEMBER Claire, a third-generation funeral director, spends most of her time talking to dead bodies on her table: old crushes, strangers, family friends. These interactions are much easier than the mess of living, and her explicit envy of these corpses and the way in which she professes her love for each of them are, yes, creepy, but also deeply vulnerable. Claire guards her soft, broken self behind a hardness that is both survival instinct and performative. Playwright and actor

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Graceless Grace,

Nancy Kenny is riveting and the character of Claire is brilliantly nuanced. Macabre, funny, and surprisingly heartbreaking, Everybody Dies is both a dark comedy and a tension-filled emotional thriller. At Studio 1398 on September 14 (5:10 p.m.), 16 (1:15 p.m.), and 17 (8:30 p.m.) > AW

CHRIS & TRAVIS A power failure that plunged their venue into darkness on the opening night of the Fringe couldn’t stop Chris Ross and Travis Bernhardt: they performed outside their venue, lit by audience members’ phones. The show, entirely improvised and performed in gibberish, exploits a very porous boundary between audience and performers; be prepared to play along. The performance I saw had occasional moments of comic genius, like a perfectly paced sketch in which two mourners try to retrieve their wedding rings from the body of a deceased friend, but other bits struggled to find shape. That’s improv: you don’t always hit your groove, but you can have a lot of fun trying. At Carousel Theatre on September 15 (8 p.m.), 16 (3 p.m.), and 17 (6:45 p.m.) > KO

AIN’T TRUE & UNCLE FALSE Kentucky native Paul Strickland cranks up the charm meter with his wholly original tales of Big Fib Trailer Park, home to his Ain’t True and Uncle False and a host of other fascinating and not in the least believable folk. Most of them work in the town’s pea-punching plant—“where they punch peas until they’re black-eyed”. Strickland creates distinct characters with simple shifts in voice and gesture, and his stories are packed with delightfully absurd details: peas canned in plastic pantyhose eggs, a snow sculpture of a bowling alley, a pair of sisters conjoined by wishful thinking. The stories (and a couple of songs) are a loving tribute to Strickland’s grandfather, whose spirit gives the show its structure (Big Fib evokes both tall tales and the tones of a defibrillator) and nuggets of downhome wisdom. This one will tickle your imagination while it warms your heart. Enjoy. At Performance Works on September 14 (5 p.m.) and 16 (4:35 p.m.) > KO

CRY-BABY THE MUSICAL When teenage bad boy (with a sensitive side) Wade “Cry-baby” Walker meets suburban sweetheart Allison Vernon-williams, sparks fly and 1950s Baltimore is turned upside down. Teen angst, romance, and fearlessness challenge societal prejudice and classism in this hilarious, highenergy musical. The show is driven by the sensational Victor Hunter, whose characterization conjures shades of Elvis Presley and Johnny Depp; the standout performance of sweet Katrina Teitz; and a fabulous cast of young talent. This over-the-top satiric musical with a sincere and timeless message is a rocking good time. At the Firehall Arts Centre on September 13 (6 p.m.), 16 (3:15 p.m.), and 17 (2 and 7:15 p.m.) > VINCE KANASOOT

BONDAGE The shows that sound the kinkiest are often the ones with the most talking, and this production of Bondage, by playwright David Henry Hwang, is no exception. In an S & M dungeon, a female dominatrix and her male submissive client are having their usual play session in full, leatherlike bodysuits, chains, and masks. His fantasies centre on the two role-playing as members of different races, interrogating the sexual politics and power structures of, in the first encounter, a blond, white woman and an Asian man. Even though 2017 feels like the necessary time to revisit a ’90s meditation on race, racism, and gender, Bondage’s spank is a bit too soft to leave an impression. At the Vancity Culture Lab on September 14 (9 p.m.), 15 (9:25 p.m.), 16 (3:15 p.m.), and 17 (8 p.m.) > AW

ROLLER COASTER TJ Dawe has built his career on turning his preoccupations of the moment into intelligent, funny monologues. His latest braids together theme parks, religion and the occult, Donald Trump’s presidency, the reasons we go to war, and much more. With his rapid-fire delivery, Dawe can cram in a mountain of interesting details, but his genius is to ground the abstract in the personal: he jumps up and down effusing about journalist and cultural critic Barbara Ehrenreich, for example. Imagining a postapocalyptic future, he wonders, “What value would there be in that situation for an autobiographical monologist?” I was hooked for the first two-thirds of Roller Coaster, but my attention began to wane. In its current form, this show may have one or two more threads than it can comfortably hold, but I’d still recommend it for Dawe’s fans. At the Firehall Arts Centre on September 15 (8:15 p.m.) and 16 (8:45 p.m.) > AW

ACCELERATION The premise is smart: Elise, a grad student in biology, wanders into a physics lecture and ends up searching for the Higgs boson, a theoretical particle. What she’s really looking for is her missing sister. But playwright Caroline Sniatynski gives us too much of the present-day story (which includes a chipper undergrad and a perky neighbour, both foils to Elise’s griefstricken somnambulism) and too little about the sister’s disappearance. More of the back story might enable Leslie Dos Remedios to explore a wider range of feeling than the flat numbness we see here, especially since, under Ulla Laidlaw’s direction, she spends a lot of time miming staring at computer screens. More life, please. At the Revue Stage on September 13 (10:15 p.m.), 15 (8:30 p.m.), and 16 (2:15 p.m.). > KO

JUST NOT THAT WOMAN Why did Hillary lose? Ali Kennedy Scott strains to use the metaphor of magic: in alternating scenes, she plays a magician explaining her secrets, and then various Americans reacting to the election results. Some of these people say very entertaining things: “Liberals have this idea that people want to spend their days reading political stuff—but they don’t!” But it’s not always clear who they are or who they’re talking to, and their order feels arbitrary. Scott’s an engaging performer, but the play and its endless costume changes go on much too long. Stick to Youtube. At the Firehall Arts Centre on September 13 (8:15 p.m.), 15 (6:45 p.m.), and 16 (1:45 p.m.). > KO

ALMOST A STEPMOM Keara Barnes really did move to Ireland, fall in love, and almost become a stepmom. She plays all of the roles in her one-woman show with confidence, smoothly embodying each character’s physiology with an arch of the back or a sinking of the shoulders. But there’s something almost exploitive about this piece, and in part it’s because the antagonist—the mother of Barnes’s almost-stepdaughter—is a cliché. She’s no more nuanced than an evil Jessica Rabbit with a foul mouth and a drinking problem. It’s almost impossible to feel an emotional connection, even when we know we should, because there just aren’t enough layers to grab onto. At Arts Umbrella on September 13 (9:45 p.m.), 15 (6:15 p.m.), 16 (8 p.m.), and 17 (9:45 p.m.) > AW

THE AUDIENCE DIES AT THE END Wally, an actor, makes a pact with the devil: he’ll travel and become famous, and all he has to do is lure unsuspecting theatre audiences to their deaths. Playwright and actor Blair Moro is a confident physical comedian, but there are two jarringly awful moments that I hope he will consider revisiting. First, Wally describes India as a “hell hole”, complaining that “all the children smelled like a sewer.” Then Moro actually adopts a racist “Asian” accent to play the drug-crazed Uncle Jack, whom he meets in Bangkok. White people need to stop doing racist accents. At Arts Umbrella on September 14 (6:15 p.m.), 15 (8 p.m.), and 16 (9:45 p.m.) > AW