A heartwarming, hillarious ode to T.O.
Walking on Bombshells (out of 4) A Second City revue, written and performed by Allana Reoch, Chris Wilson, Nadine Djoury, PHATT al, Sharjil Rasool and Stacey McGunnigle, directed by Chris Earle. At the Second City Mainstage Theatre, 51 Mercer St. secondcity.com/ toronto or 416-343-0011 Casual racism, YouTube rabbit holes, toxic masculinity, overrepresentation of ethnocultural minorities in Canadian prisons, fat shaming and that inevitable cocktail party/watercooler question: “What are you watching?” — Second City’s 82nd revue is an expert weaving of socio-political topicality with lighter material capturing the zeitgeist.
The waft of a theme holding it all together is TTC humour. The set places us in Osgoode station and the first number, led by Stacey McGunnigle, captures the creeping unease of sitting down on a warm subway seat.
Later, PHATT al, making his Second City mainstage debut, offers a lovely cameo about streetcar drivers’ greeting rituals.
There’s a particularly strong sense in this revue of the ensemble owning the material and it offering each of them individual, as well as collective, chances to shine.
Chris Wilson stands out in the first act with some classic physical comedy business as a guy falling apart after a breakup, as well as a bang-on illustration of how sizing up paintings in an art gallery probably makes us all look like douchebags.
Nadine Djoury is hilarious as a bilingual Air Canada flight attendant, and she and Sharjil Rasool get the tone just right in an extended sketch illustrating the similarities between supposedly irreconcilable Jewish and Muslim dads.
Rasool finds unlikely fresh humour in the familiar topic of the obscenely overinflated Toronto real-estate market. McGunnigle proves she knows how to work an audience in a scene that both explains and acts out the art of the vamp. PHATT al shines in a well-observed sketch about computers and phones listening to us. And — in the first act’s most painfully funny sequence — Allana Reoch shows off an extraordinary capacity for physical and vocal characterization as a son badgered by his aggressive father (Wilson) in a fast-food queue.
That routine starts with a mundane premise and pushes it through comic absurdity into insight, as do several other of the evening’s superior sketches: Reoch and Djoury as best friends at a spa supporting each other through some very private insecurities; and McGunnigle doing some of the best drunk acting I’ve ever seen as an unhappy birthday girl, countered by deadpan Rasool as a fast-food deliveryman. (Her: “You get to see me at rock bottom.” Him: “Do I get to see you pay for the pizza?”)
Only a few routines don’t fully pay off: one about a car journey to Montreal somewhat overstays its welcome and the firstact closer about ballsy women could be stronger.
Overall, director Chris Earle has shaped the evening well in the alternation between short- er observational scenes and longer character-based ones. Jordan Armstrong’s live piano accompaniment and stage manager Georgia PriestleyBrown’s accurate cues help keep things pacy.
Making sketch comedy heartwarming without tipping into sentimentality is a tough balance, but this revue pulls it off in a beautifully choreographed final sequence about a bike ride through Toronto that feels like a love letter to the city and a sweet breath of spring.