CONNECTED ONLY BY A WAVE OF EMOTION
Carried away on the crest of a wave By David Yee, directed by Kim Collier NAC English Theatre production, to April 1
Reviewed Saturday
Carried away on the crest of a wave, David Yee’s ambitious play about the after-effects of the 2004 tsunami in the Indian Ocean, is a boundary-pushing piece of Canadian theatre that dispenses with tradition.
Instead of telling one heroic story about the natural disaster that claimed more than 200,000 lives, it tells nine stories, each featuring decidedly non-heroic characters in different parts of the world.
As staged by the National Arts Centre’s English theatre department, the new version of the play consists of a series of nine vignettes, evidently one less than its Tarragon Theatre debut in Toronto three years ago. Although tightened up, it still has a running time of two-and-a-half hours, including intermission, and there’s a lot to pack in.
Each vignette features unrelated characters in different settings, their locations and dates indicated on a timeline that runs across the front of the stage.
Through the course of this non-linear narrative, we meet people of all ages: Two brothers are jettisoning family mementoes from their home as it sinks into the ocean. A Muslim engineer is sent to Tamil Nadu by the Vatican to investigate a miracle at the basilica where 2,000 people sought refuge and were spared from the flooding. A grieving husband travels to the spot where he lost his wife to have sex with a prostitute. An obnoxious radio jock in Toronto defies his bosses to perform an outrageous Tears Are Not Enough-style parody on the air. A mother in Salt Lake City gets a visit from the FBI.
Along the way, there is everything from family drama to absurdist comedy, plus tall tales and dark secrets.
One of the best segments is the exchange between the Muslim engineer and the Catholic priest, where reason triumphs over faith. Another highlight is the airport scene, when a young girl (perfectly played by Ottawa’s Clarissa Lauzon in her first professional role), orphaned by the tsunami, is travelling with the man who pulled her out of the water.
Each scene also features a weird coincidence between the characters, which, by the time the little girl’s saviour recognizes her uncle from his childhood, starts to feel forced, just a little too convenient to believe.
Also overdone is the closing monologue, in which the message that we’re all connected is hammered home, at length and without nuance.
Actor John Ng’s wooden delivery didn’t help. Generally, though, the acting is terrific, with sharply drawn performances by Zaib Shaikh, Ryan Hollyman, Kayvon Khoshkam, Adrienne Wong and Andrea Yu, who’s particularly chilling as the inscrutable prostitute.
Still, what’s most remarkable about this production is the ingenious staging. Vancouver-based director Kim Collier and her team use a giant tarp to represent the surging ocean, a much simpler technique than running actual H2O on the stage (as was the case with the Tarragon production). Manipulated by cast members in discrete clothing and lit in blues and purples, the folds of the tarp proved to be an effective way to imagine the ebb and flow of waves on the ocean.
No less compelling was the high-flying aerial athleticism in one segment, or the sex scene in another, sensually cast in red light behind a sheer curtain.
As far as performances go, it might be easier to watch this play as if you’re taking in a concert. There’s no need to expend energy trying to figure out how the nine storylines are connected. They’re not, except for the obvious impact of the tsunami.
Think of each segment as a song, with the sum total adding up to a concept album of a play that explores the impact of an epic tragedy on human behaviour, without glossing over the unsavoury parts.