Stampede Queen onstage
One- man romp lacks focus, but has talent aplenty
Entertaining story of a fish- out- ofwater cub reporter translates well onto the stage but its anecdotes could stand to be woven more closely together.
It’s 1985. A cub reporter, fresh out of journalism school, arrives in a small northern B. C. town to begin his new job as a reporter for the local newspaper. No sooner does he pull into city limits than he comes across a gas station robbery perpetrated by a thief wearing a brown paper bag over his head. Welcome to Williams Lake. This fish- out- of- water story, adapted from Vancouver writer ( and Sun theatre reviewer) Mark Leiren- Young’s Stephen Leacock Award- winning 2009 book of the same name, follows the education of a city- raised whippersnapper as he comes to know the ways of this remote, somewhat eccentric community and its characters.
There’s the gruff- but- lovable news editor, the money- grubbing publisher, the wise photographer, not to mention the local constabulary. And there’s the obligatory sense of “what am I doing here,” as when the protagonist of this one- man play plaintively asks, “Why would anyone live anywhere you have to plug in your car?”
There’s also a stab at social consciousness, as our man ( played by Zachary Stevenson, best known to Vancouver audiences as Buddy Holly in the Arts Club’s musical bio about the singer) learns about the horrendous living conditions of the town’s native population and seeks to bring the story to light.
As brought to the stage by director T. J. Dawe, Never Shoot a Stampede Queen takes full advantage of Stevenson’s elastic features and body movements as he takes on a variety of characters. The set of bundled newspapers and a sign bearing the town’s name is just about all that’s needed, along with Stevenson’s ability to sell the material, to give us a sense of the young reporter’s goggle- eyed encounters with the denizens of Williams Lake.
This, however, is not quite enough. Never Shoot a Stampede Queen is in need of a through- line, a dramatic arc to carry us through to the end and help the audience make sense of what amounts to a pileup of anecdotes in an otherwise all- too- familiar story.
Still, Never Shoot a Stampede Queen is fitfully entertaining over its 80- minute run, and it does offer glimpses into a certain region of B. C. in a certain era, as well as into the culture of community newspapers. Journalists, or what’s left of them, will relate.