What: Zero Tolerance: Sex, Math and Seizures
Where: Fairfield Hall, 1303 Fairfield Rd.
When: Friday, Saturday and Sunday
Rating: 2 1/2
Everybody's own life story is, naturally, fascinating to them. How could it not be?
But when translated to autobiographical theatre, life stories become a tricky proposition. They'd better be fascinating, expertly written and beautifully performed, or the audience won't care.
Enter California's Barbara Selfridge and her one-woman show. She tells of her father, a womanizing mathematician who did pioneering work in computing. Tragically, due to a birth complication, her sister was brain-damaged and condemned to a life plagued by seizures.
No doubt Selfridge is entitled to be resentful of her father, who divorced his wife then failed to support his family. When dad's health later deteriorates and he starts urinating on his slippers, Selfridge is emotionally torn over whether to take care of him.
Fair enough. The trouble is, her life story means more to Ms. Selfridge than the audience. The show is performed reasonably well. But her tale is not sufficiently funny or compelling to make for memorable theatre.
- Adrian Chamberlain
What: Dying Hard
When: Friday, Saturday and Sunday
Where: St. Ann's Auditorium, 835 Humboldt St.
Rating: 4 1/2
From the moment Mikaela Dyke hunches over, juts out her chin and begins speaking in the thick Newfoundland dialect of a weathered old miner, you know this is going to be a good one.
The set is stark and there's little fuss around transitions. Dyke introduces each of the four surviving miners and two widows of St. Lawrence, N.L. - a community whose graveyards grew fat with workers thanks to industrial hazards of the fluorspar mines - before expertly assuming each of their roles. These are the true testimonies given to anthropologist Elliott Leyton in 1975 from the remaining members of a community demolished by cancer and silicosis, living on meagre compensation. As one widow puts it, "You don't die with silicosis. You perish."
It's bleak, but there's more than suffering in this story - we get a glimpse of the barroom fights, joys of fishing and love that also defined this community - as well as the ways that people who know they'll die soon choose to carry on.
The accents are sometimes impossible to comprehend. But if your ear can adjust, it's worth listening to these powerful stories.
- Amy Smart
What: Hello, My Name Is Matthew Payne
When: Saturday and Sunday
Where: St. Andrew's School Gymnasium, 1002 Pandora Ave.
Rating: 2
Throughout this one-man performance, Matthew Payne mentions that he accidentally deleted much of the show's material or lost it when his laptop was stolen - so what hits the stage was created in 72 hours. Unfortunately, it shows.
The concept is ripe with potential: After a Google search of his own name yields 21.5 million hits, Payne sets out to find and engage with as many other Matthew Paynes as possible. He has a list of questions for them: How's the weather where you are? Matt or Matthew? What does it mean to be Matthew Payne? And how big is your ego, on a scale of one to 10?
This could be about the universality of the human experience or about a man searching for himself.
Unfortunately, with fewer than five interviews with other Matthew Paynes, much is spent listening to Payne repeating his pitch on voicemails and to ringtones that yield no results.
It's a clever idea and with enough time to put it together properly Payne could have something solid on his hand. It's just not quite there yet.
- AS
What: Homewrecker Hot Dogs - The Hillbilly Hip-Hopera
Where: Metro Studio, 1411 Quadra St.
When: Thursday, Friday and Saturday
Rating: 3
If you like the sounds of rapping hillbillies, a silent bear that doubles as a prop-holder and a dancing hotdog - then this show's for you.
The story is a bit all over the place, but generally centres on two brothers: 18-year-old Clyde and older brother Keller. When the government of West Virginia determines their land to be rich in coal, the boys fight to protect it, coming up with money-making schemes and delving into their family history of resistance against authority for inspiration.
For two white boys, performers Cole Peterson and Ben Fitzpatrick do a pretty good job telling the entire tale through rap. What they lack in natural aptitude, they make up for in sweat.
The difficulty with a show like this is that consistently high energy can be a bit exhausting by the end of an hour. And though both are clear speakers, it requires constant attention from the audience to catch each word, often delivered at rapid-fire speed. The show was originally shorter, so finding a happy medium may be ideal.
- AS
