The annual Theatre Ontario Festival brings together four outstanding productions selected from the four regional community theatre festivals. Days at the Festival are occupied with various workshops, play readings, and other activities, and a different play is presented on each of the four nights, Wednesday through Saturday. Awards are presented at a brunch on Sunday morning. I'll be reviewing all the performances, and also presenting a complete list of award winners on Sunday.
***** ***** *****
Dead Accounts
by Theresa Rebeck
Representing EODL (Eastern Ontario)
Presented by Ottawa Little Theatre
Directed by
This final play of the week is a comedy written by a noted American playwright, Theresa Rebeck, in 2012. It had a brief 6-week run on Broadway, closing early due to poor ticket sales. This in itself doesn't necessarily mean that Dead Accounts was a bad play! However, I'm inclined to agree with the New York critic who said that the play couldn't settle on its own tone or direction.
The Ottawa Little Theatre's production left me with one overwhelming question: was the character of Jack addicted to "uppers"? I may have missed it in the performance (see below) but after consulting several sources, including the author's own website, I can't find any reference to that. Why does it matter?
It matters simply because Phillip Merriman, the actor playing the central role of Jack, hit the stage already spinning madly at about 150 rpms, and just kept getting wilder and more frantic throughout the first act. This performance was, in a word, exhausting -- and so un-funny that it gave me a headache. Reference point: partly due to his hairstyle, Merriman called up memories of John Ritter in Three's Company, except that he was outdoing Ritter's signature physical comedy and zany facial expressions by about 300 percent. Total overkill, and for me it nearly killed the entire play.
My problem here is that, since I arrive at the theatre cold (without having read the script), I don't know if this style of performance is what the author demands or something which the actor and director have chosen to do. Whichever it was, it drove me to get a rare drink-at-intermission just so I could bear to sit through the second act.
It's unfortunate, because Merriman obviously expended a terrific amount of energy getting to all the right places at all the right times, consuming quantities of varied ice cream on stage, racing back and forth and all around. If he was indeed presenting a character all hopped up on stimulant drugs, then kudos to him for staying firmly inside that character at all times.
And after his big secret was let out of the bag, he became much more likable and human, slowing down considerably, allowing more diverse sides of an intriguing character to emerge -- but that didn't happen until after the intermission.
The other three characters provided relief, especially in the scenes where Jack left the stage. Venetia Lawless presented a fine multi-sided portrait of Lorna, Jack's sister -- a woman not quite young who has returned home, and is now forced to contend with a religious-mania mother, a terribly ill father, and the unexpected return of her whirlwind-of-energy brother. She brought a nice repertoire of expressions on an expressive face to highlight all of her varying needs and moods. The scene where she described the Arbor Day tree planting was a truly touching moment of emotional truth. Also commendable for the strongest vocal work of the evening, with the clearest diction.
Jane Morris, as Barbara (the mother) had her own great repertoire of sorrows and worries to work with. Having sought comfort in the Catholic religion, she made a specialty of advising everyone to go to church because that would solve all their problems. For much of the play, she was playing the pitiful mother card so strongly that it's a wonder the script didn't have her say, "oh, I'm just a burden to all of you" or some such gem of self-pity. The comic scenes where she kept talking nonstop right across Lorna's phone calls were hilarious highlights of the show. Morris also gave a superb shift into snapping anger after overhearing Jenny's phone conversation, complete with criticism of the dishes, flatware, décor, and all.
As the nice-guy straight man in a nest of comic lunatics, Josh Sparks hit many good notes of bewilderment and bafflement in the role of Jack's friend, Phil. He then found an equally believable series of subtle character shifts in the scenes where he gradually falls in love again with the idea of falling in love. This set up the happy ending of the play for two of the characters.
There was a fifth character who was (probably accidentally) not credited in the printed programme: Jack's estranged wife, Jenny. The actor playing this role had the physicality of the New York high society woman down pat. Every motion or stance radiated the air of a woman who had, no doubt, been to more than a few classes in finishing schools. Vocally, she was a bit more problematic -- her diction was less clear than the others and, every time she crossed the stage away from my seat on the right side of the theatre, I had trouble hearing the words as she spoke them.
This unnamed performer also managed to ring all the changes -- facially, physically, and vocally -- in the scene where Jack tries to strike a deal with her, then begins romancing her, and very nearly convinces her to come back to him.
The set, designed by Tom Pidgeon and dressed in incredible detail and profusion by Joan Sullivan-Eady, accurately captured the atmosphere of a 1960s vintage kitchen in a house that's never been renovated (I know -- I grew up in one and lived in another for years!).
John Solman's lighting design met the needs of the play well, especially the nice variation of the outdoor lighting seen through the window and the sliding glass door. The highlight of the lighting work came during the montage sequence which saw lights come on, focused on different areas of the stage in turn, as Jenny went through a whole series of poses to highlight the passage of time while all the others were away at the hospital with the unseen father.
In total, I found this to be a solid, well-knit production of the play, with much to commend it. But I'm still no closer to solving the basic conundrum, which comes down to this dichotomy.
EITHER... the playwright wrote the role of Jack with a demand for this frantic hyperactivity right at the beginning of the play, in which case I have to call it a serious weakness in the script, in tandem with that New York critic.
OR... the frantic behaviour of Jack in Act 1 was a director/actor choice, in which case I would have to call it a major error in judgement on the part of the company.
Either way, less would definitely have been much, much more.
The Ottawa Little Theatre's production left me with one overwhelming question: was the character of Jack addicted to "uppers"? I may have missed it in the performance (see below) but after consulting several sources, including the author's own website, I can't find any reference to that. Why does it matter?
It matters simply because Phillip Merriman, the actor playing the central role of Jack, hit the stage already spinning madly at about 150 rpms, and just kept getting wilder and more frantic throughout the first act. This performance was, in a word, exhausting -- and so un-funny that it gave me a headache. Reference point: partly due to his hairstyle, Merriman called up memories of John Ritter in Three's Company, except that he was outdoing Ritter's signature physical comedy and zany facial expressions by about 300 percent. Total overkill, and for me it nearly killed the entire play.
My problem here is that, since I arrive at the theatre cold (without having read the script), I don't know if this style of performance is what the author demands or something which the actor and director have chosen to do. Whichever it was, it drove me to get a rare drink-at-intermission just so I could bear to sit through the second act.
It's unfortunate, because Merriman obviously expended a terrific amount of energy getting to all the right places at all the right times, consuming quantities of varied ice cream on stage, racing back and forth and all around. If he was indeed presenting a character all hopped up on stimulant drugs, then kudos to him for staying firmly inside that character at all times.
And after his big secret was let out of the bag, he became much more likable and human, slowing down considerably, allowing more diverse sides of an intriguing character to emerge -- but that didn't happen until after the intermission.
The other three characters provided relief, especially in the scenes where Jack left the stage. Venetia Lawless presented a fine multi-sided portrait of Lorna, Jack's sister -- a woman not quite young who has returned home, and is now forced to contend with a religious-mania mother, a terribly ill father, and the unexpected return of her whirlwind-of-energy brother. She brought a nice repertoire of expressions on an expressive face to highlight all of her varying needs and moods. The scene where she described the Arbor Day tree planting was a truly touching moment of emotional truth. Also commendable for the strongest vocal work of the evening, with the clearest diction.
Jane Morris, as Barbara (the mother) had her own great repertoire of sorrows and worries to work with. Having sought comfort in the Catholic religion, she made a specialty of advising everyone to go to church because that would solve all their problems. For much of the play, she was playing the pitiful mother card so strongly that it's a wonder the script didn't have her say, "oh, I'm just a burden to all of you" or some such gem of self-pity. The comic scenes where she kept talking nonstop right across Lorna's phone calls were hilarious highlights of the show. Morris also gave a superb shift into snapping anger after overhearing Jenny's phone conversation, complete with criticism of the dishes, flatware, décor, and all.
As the nice-guy straight man in a nest of comic lunatics, Josh Sparks hit many good notes of bewilderment and bafflement in the role of Jack's friend, Phil. He then found an equally believable series of subtle character shifts in the scenes where he gradually falls in love again with the idea of falling in love. This set up the happy ending of the play for two of the characters.
There was a fifth character who was (probably accidentally) not credited in the printed programme: Jack's estranged wife, Jenny. The actor playing this role had the physicality of the New York high society woman down pat. Every motion or stance radiated the air of a woman who had, no doubt, been to more than a few classes in finishing schools. Vocally, she was a bit more problematic -- her diction was less clear than the others and, every time she crossed the stage away from my seat on the right side of the theatre, I had trouble hearing the words as she spoke them.
This unnamed performer also managed to ring all the changes -- facially, physically, and vocally -- in the scene where Jack tries to strike a deal with her, then begins romancing her, and very nearly convinces her to come back to him.
The set, designed by Tom Pidgeon and dressed in incredible detail and profusion by Joan Sullivan-Eady, accurately captured the atmosphere of a 1960s vintage kitchen in a house that's never been renovated (I know -- I grew up in one and lived in another for years!).
John Solman's lighting design met the needs of the play well, especially the nice variation of the outdoor lighting seen through the window and the sliding glass door. The highlight of the lighting work came during the montage sequence which saw lights come on, focused on different areas of the stage in turn, as Jenny went through a whole series of poses to highlight the passage of time while all the others were away at the hospital with the unseen father.
In total, I found this to be a solid, well-knit production of the play, with much to commend it. But I'm still no closer to solving the basic conundrum, which comes down to this dichotomy.
EITHER... the playwright wrote the role of Jack with a demand for this frantic hyperactivity right at the beginning of the play, in which case I have to call it a serious weakness in the script, in tandem with that New York critic.
OR... the frantic behaviour of Jack in Act 1 was a director/actor choice, in which case I would have to call it a major error in judgement on the part of the company.
Either way, less would definitely have been much, much more.
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