Tag: Arts Club

Farewell, my boredom

Emma Slipp and Graham Percy in Arts Club’s Farewell, My Lovely. (photo by Benjamin Laird Arts & Photo)

Shadowy figures, damsels in distress, fedoras tilted just below one eye, ex-cons and gunshots galore fill the stage at the Art Club Theatre this month.

Raymond Chandler’s 1940s work Farewell, My Lovely is brought to life with enough campy villainy and “careful, shweetheart” to fill size 11 cement galoshes. And I loved every minute.

A warning though: if you’re used to minimal plotlines, you might want to bring a notepad to keep track of the twists and turns and numerous characters.

Graham Percy brings tough-nut detective Philip Marlowe to life as he investigates the case of a murdered nightclub manager and the missing girlfriend of an ex-con. Hired by the ex-con and pushed into the case by a lazy detective, Marlowe first tracks down Jessie Florian, the nightclub owner’s widow. A sad case, in a scotch-induced stupor, she throws herself at him, then reacts in disdain, then seems to genuinely want to help him.

On what seems to be a different track, but soon turns out to be connected to the original case, Marlowe takes a job for Lindsay Marriott (Anthony Ingram). Marriott wants Marlowe to act as a bodyguard in an exchange of a cash ransom for a rare jade necklace. That ends with Marlowe knocked unconscious, Marriott dead and a new character – Anne Riordan (Emma Slipp), who turns out to be the daughter of a policeman known to Marlowe.

Riordan knows who the owner of the necklace is – a wealthy woman by the name of Helen Grayle (Jamie Konchak). Riordan wants to join Marlowe on the case, and also demonstrates affection for him. At first, he returns her affection but is reluctant to have her involved. He continues his quest, eventually meeting with a psychic named Jules Amthor (also played by Ingram), who is somehow linked to the necklace and is also involved with drugs.

Marlowe visits with Grayle, then reconnects with Florian after she leads him down a dead-end, and then finally ends up looking for clues on an offshore gambling boat. Here is where all the loose ends are tied up, the answer to the case is found and more people are shot.

Aside from the theme of the gruff-but-good detective versus the bad guys, the thread of Marlowe’s love life keeps popping up. Each of the female characters – Florian, Riordan and Grayle – tries to seduce Marlowe. He sympathetically rejects Florian’s drunken flirtations, seems to have something serious for Riordan, but risks it for the flattering attention of the beautiful and seductive Grayle. After the case is done, he ends up with … well, you’ll have to see it for yourself.

While Percy does an admirable job of reprising the well-known hard-boiled detective role, there’s something about his character I didn’t find believable. While he had the lines and the tone right, he came across as having more of the sloppiness of Peter Falk’s Columbo than the alluring and mysterious attractiveness of Humphrey Bogart’s Sam Spade. Perhaps it’s unfair to make the comparison, but I just couldn’t see Percy’s character taking the place of Bogart’s Marlowe opposite Lauren Bacall in The Big Sleep.

One thing that did impress me in the Arts Club production was the creative use of the actors rearranging the stage set as needed between scenes, while still staying in character. I also admired the choice to use film sequences projected over the set to add context to the action on stage. Dramaturg Rachel Ditor and stage manager Jan Hodgson deserve kudos for the adaptation and presentation of the performance. Well done, shweethearts.

Farewell, My Lovely runs at the Arts Club Granville Island stage until May 2.

Baila Lazarus is a freelance writer and media trainer in Vancouver. Her consulting work be seen at phase2coaching.com.

Amy Herzog’s 4000 Miles offers 4,000 laughs

Nathan Barrett and Nicola Cavendish in Amy Herzog’s 4000 Miles. (photo by David Cooper)

I can be quite nervous going to see a play that relies on only one or two main actors to carry the production, particularly when those one or two have most of the dialogue, and the action takes place in only one room for the entire performance.

But my concern is never that great when Nicola Cavendish is one of the two involved because I know I will laugh out loud, stifle tears and otherwise experience a full, rich range of emotions. I was not disappointed when I caught Cavendish in Amy Herzog’s 4000 Miles.

In this starring role, Cavendish plays 91-year-old Vera whose grandson Leo (Nathan Barrett) comes to stay with her after a cross-continent bike trip during which his best friend died.

Leo has come to stay with his grandmother due to lack of cash, being estranged from his mother and in an uncertain position with his girlfriend.

At first Leo appears to be the clichéd lost soul – not entirely the self-absorbed persona you expect to find in a 21-year-old – who brings to Vera a companionship the older woman is missing. The reunion is filled with laughs right off the top as Vera’s hearing problems cause havoc in the communication.

Vera herself is savvy, but tough, and pulls no punches when giving her opinion.

“You smell terrible and I wouldn’t be surprised if you have lice,” she says to Leo in one of the first lines of the play.

The relationship starts with Leo showing warmth to an uncomfortable Vera, who’s more used to complaining all the time than accepting someone’s love; and it’s quickly revealed that

Vera really only wants what’s best for her grandson, like a good night’s sleep.

Vera shows interest in Leo’s recent trip as well, albeit on the weird side, asking Leo if he ever met a sexual crackpot wanting favors in exchange for giving Leo a place to stay.

The two soon start talking about family, and Vera admits she also has a dysfunctional relationship with Leo’s mother: “I always end up telling her what a disappointment she was to her father,” Vera sighs. “I don’t mean to, but I do.”

It’s not long before Leo’s “one-day visit” turns into a lengthy stay and the well-meaning free spirit starts acting like a freeloader, even bringing one-night stands over to the apartment.

Vera, for her part, turns into a crotchety micro-manager who’s defensive and fearful. She starts to lecture Leo on responsibility, and doesn’t hesitate to show an angry frustrated side when she feels her space is being infringed upon.

In one brilliantly funny scene, Leo’s girlfriend comes over and drops her bag in the middle of the living room. Walking by the bag, Vera nonchalantly gives it a kick and, with surprising results, sends it flying a good 10 feet back to the front door – eliciting laughs and applause from the audience.

Vera’s progressive loss of memory, while a bane for her (“I hate not being able to find the right words”), is also a source for comedic enjoyment in the play, especially when she and Leo smoke pot together.

“Your father never did anything for me in bed,” she says, mistakenly referencing her daughter. “Neither of my husbands did.”

“Were my parents in love?”

Leo asks during this baring of stoned souls.

“Which ones were your parents?” Vera dopily responds.

While this play is not likely to offer deep insights that will turn your world around and cause you to run out to reconcile with every estranged member of your family, it is a warm, wonderfully written snapshot of two somewhat lost people who come together with love and humor.

4000 Miles ran Off-Broadway in 2011 and again in 2012, and was a finalist for the 2013 Pulitzer Prize for drama. It shows at the Arts Club Stanley Theatre until Oct. 12. Visit artsclub.com.

Baila Lazarus is a Vancouver-based writer, painter and photographer. Her work can be seen at orchiddesigns.net.

Odd Couple still works

Andrew McNee as Oscar Madison and Robery Maloney as Felix Ungar. (photo by David Cooper)

In his program notes, artistic managing director Bill Millerd recalls the Arts Club Theatre Company’s 1967 production of The Odd Couple. In those days, the Arts Club made its home on Seymour, where Vancity Theatre and the Vancouver International Film Festival are now. This nostalgia was an apt introduction to Neil’s Simon’s 1965 classic play, a multiple-award-winning comedy about two divorced men forced by circumstance to become roommates.

While some might find the premise dated – few today would raise an eyebrow at the notion of two men living together, and the sexual and gender politics that today exist are drastically different than they were in 1965 – Felix Ungar and Oscar Madison can still charm an audience. After all, at its heart, The Odd Couple is a heartwarming, amusing story about friendship.

The play opens with Oscar, a divorced, irresponsible, childish but lovable slob, hosting his Friday-night poker game for the boys. By the time we meet Felix, we know that he’s precise and punctual, but the true extent of his perfectionist, neat-freak ways don’t become evident until later.

Felix shows up at Oscar’s, distraught and suicidal after being kicked out by his (no doubt long-suffering) wife. The comedy starts to unfold as Felix’s friends try to hide their concern from him, out of fear they might cause Felix to leave or, heaven forbid, make another suicide attempt. After Oscar invites Felix to live with him – and to pay half the rent – their opposing personalities fully flower and high-energy comic chaos ensues.

Andrew McNee’s talent shines particularly bright as Oscar, a role that is dynamic and physically demanding, so potentially exhausting is Oscar’s frustration with Felix’s perfectionism, and so overwhelming his anguish at the thought of losing his best friend. Robert Moloney does a sympathetic, even endearing, job with Felix, who is bewildered after the collapse of his marriage but is also exasperated by his inability to change his own most annoying habits. Both Felix and Oscar are played with compassion, and it’s easy to root for them – a function of McNee’s and Moloney’s acting chops, but also a testament to Simon’s enduring script.

Though expectations around manhood have changed, it is still charming and satisfying to witness the camaraderie and delightful energy of a group of man friends who love – and respect – each other. Though the genre still relies on our culture’s discomfort with men expressing their emotions and fears, McNee and Moloney coax the vulnerability and honesty out of their characters, which is what makes this production so heartwarming. And, frankly, the rest of the cast – Josh Drebit, Joel Wirkkunen, Alec Willows and Cavan Cunningham – are equally terrific, as are Sasa Brown and Kate Dion-Richard, who play the Pigeon sisters with high comedy and great tenderness. This production features strong direction by John Murphy, spot-on costumes by Barbara Clayden and a clever set (including creatively amusing scene changes) by David Roberts.

The Odd Couple is at the Stanley Industrial Alliance Stage until Feb. 23. For tickets, visit artsclub.com.