Female friendship and frustrations
Girls Like That
(out of 4) Written by Evan Placey. Directed by Esther Jun. Until May 27 at Tarragon Theatre, 30 Bridgman Ave. tarragontheatre.com or 416-531-1827
CARLY MAGA As all critics must declare inherent biases, let me be frank. When Tarragon Theatre’s production of Girls Like Thatbegan with its cast of seven young women walking onstage to No Doubt’s “Just a Girl,” it hit me in a very subjective place.
I was 7 when “Just a Girl” came out in 1995. I, too, was a girl, therefore this song was for me. At the same time, it put the female experience aggressively front and centre in such an angry, sarcastic way it articulated frustrations I didn’t know I had, societal imbalances I had only started to become aware of.
Which makes it, for me, a serendipitously apt opening of this 2013 play for young audiences by Canadian-born, U.K.-based Evan Placey, which fuses the joy of a pop concert with the stresses of bullying, sexism and body image in adolescence.
The plot follows one class of girls, part of a prestigious school that takes only 20 students per year, guaranteeing they will remain in the same class from kindergarten to graduation, making lifelong friendships.
Jumping back and forth in time, we see the class in their early years. Although they’re generally happy and carefree, Placey cleverly hints at social pressures creeping in. As they near high school graduation, in a larger school with (gasp) coeds, the tight-knit group is compromised when a naked photo of one of them spreads around the whole school. Most of the play revolves around the girls’ complicity in ostracizing their former friend.
He might not have first-hand experience, but Placey handles the subject matter deftly, loading the script with plenty of humour, which Tarragon assistant artistic director Esther Jun heightens with a high-energy performance style. He also punctures the modern-day story with victorious glimpses of the past: four monologues from the 1920s, ’40s, ’60s and ’80s that detail a young woman grasping for independence, potentially thwarted by a man, but finishing triumphant.
Placey resists revealing any details as to where the naked photo came from and gives Scarlett a vindicating moment, placing her alongside her historic peers.
What keeps the show together is the ensemble: Tess Benger, Nadine Bhabha, Shakura Dickson, Allison Edwards-Crewe, Cynthia Jimenez-Hicks, Lucy Hill and Rachel VanDuzer. The chemistry is palpable, as if 13- year friendships were formed in just weeks of rehearsal. Each bestows their own unique comedic spin on their character.
Nowhere is their bond so closely felt as in the show-stopping pop numbers, when the girls don headphones and superstar personas, with powerful, strong, sexy, fun bursts of energy.
Alyssa Martin creates the bedroom-rock-concert-with-ahairbrush-as-microphone of your dreams with her choreography.
With all its wonderful elements, it’s a shame Placey ends the play with a sombre estimation of female friendship, which seems to question the validity of any bond formed in the tumultuous years of adolescence. He seems more than ready to punish the girls with a highly moralistic tone, one that the young audiences of Girls Like That could receive as condescending.
Nonetheless, the combination of script, performance and direction is an intoxicating one. I left Tarragon Theatre blasting “Just a Girl,” but there was lingering frustration, too. The play cautions young women against turning on each other, but then the play itself turns on them.
Though they’re generally happy and carefree, Placey cleverly hints at social pressures creeping in