Fest gets strange, dark, and funny THEATRE

FUCHSIA FUTURE

Written by Elysse Cheadle. Directed by Marc Arboleda. An Elysse Cheadle production, with presenting partner Mind of a Snail Puppet Co. A revolver Festival presentation. At the Cultch’s Vancity Culture Lab on Thursday, May 24. Continues until June 3

With Fuchsia Future, an offbeat 2

musical about a family coping with the tragic loss of its patriarch, Elysse Cheadle proves an inspiration to the DIY set. Unpretentious and experimental, with a huge heart and a wickedly clever brain, Cheadle is the writer, producer, and colead actor of Fuchsia Future, one of the strangest and most bizarre local plays in recent memory.

Convoluted but restrained, simply staged but artistically complex, Fuchsia Future was inspired by George Price, a real population geneticist who ended up taking his own life after attempting to disprove his own scientific theory about altruism. But rather than focus on Price, who doesn’t appear as a character in the piece, Fuchsia Future imagines a fictional son, Paul (Cheadle), and Ma (Carmine Santavenere), who must redefine themselves after Price vanishes. Paul suspects the mysterious neighbour, Mr. Frown, of having some responsibility for his father’s absence, while Ma recounts her and her husband’s shared love of everything bread-related and their mutual hatred of birds or, as she calls them, “wretched sky monsters”.

Also on-stage are three musicians who sing songs and provide a live soundtrack to highlight everything from walking to chewing to a house imploding. Often the trio’s contributions serve to heighten the absurdity, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t talented. They harmonize and turn baking equipment into percussion instruments, and one even plays the banjo.

As Paul, Cheadle excels at delivering long lines that are often as ridiculous as they are poignant (“Ma! You know I need to be alone with my contemplations!”). It’s both Cheadle’s writing and his delivery that make Paul so endearing. Santavenere is the real scene stealer, though, and is an absolute joy to watch as Ma. Whether rolling across the floor or kneading dough or doing some soft twerking, Santavenere is a gifted physical comedian and an engaging presence on-stage. Santavenere also gets some of the best lines, including a recitation of the long list of bread-related terms of endearment she had for her husband. (“My little yeast beast” and “My perfect crust thrust” are just two that I managed to write down.)

Fuchsia Future is packed with these laugh-out-loud moments, and yet it never shies away from its dark side either. Cheadle knows the symbiotic nature of the two extremes, and that’s what makes Fuchsia Future so refreshing. It’s wildly entertaining, genuinely affecting, and utterly a creation of Cheadle’s singular vision.

> ANDREA WARNER THE ONLY GOOD INDIAN

Created and performed by Jivesh Parasram, Tom Arthur Davis, Donna-michelle St. Bernard, and Adele Noronha. A Pandemic Theatre production, with presenting partner Neworld Theatre. A revolver Festival presentation. At the Cultch’s Vancity Culture Lab on Thursday, May 24. No remaining performances

“I’ve never wanted to kill myself. 2

I have wanted to kill all of you.” When Adele Noronha delivered this line, wearing a suicide vest, at the May 24 performance of The Only Good Indian, it felt like the air left the room. Noronha’s face, eyes, and body conveyed the complexity of the moment with a kind of realness that was blood-chilling. Steely resolve fighting against wild rage, profound hurt and hopelessness butting up against radical defiance, years and years of colonial and patriarchal trauma manifesting in a declaration that was both threat and sacrifice.

There are many moments of genuine greatness in The Only Good Indian, but the play and its unconventional form are difficult to convey. There’s just one performer—four culturally diverse people alternate the solo role—and certain elements of the script change each time, depending on the actor.

The constant is that the actor puts on a suicide vest and sets the timer, and then, in a part-lecture, part-monologue format, tries to explain what’s led to this decision. Noronha talks about being an immigrant to Canada, a racialized woman who has struggled with oppression and marginalization, and survived rape. Noronha also muses on what it is to be someone who was born into colonization in India, and who then moved to Canada as a settler. She reflects on the tension between her identities, and on Indigeneity.

This is where The Only Good Indian would benefit from spending more time strengthening the material. As it stands, it feels like the connection between Indigenous people and India is too tenuous and slight, which is not in keeping with the depth and weight of the rest of the material. The Only Good Indian also rushes its ending. Rather than naturally building to its climax— one that the audience very much cares about, thanks to Noronha’s performance—the play suddenly speeds up to a stop, and it just fizzles out rather than resonating the way it could and should.

Noronha is a dynamic, winning performer, and The Only Good Indian is ambitious, risky theatre—it just needs a bit more work to live up to its premise.

Fuchsia Future,