Credit: Emily Cooper
At the Vancity Culture Lab at The Cultch until April 29, 2017
Tickets from $27 at www.tickets.thecultch.com
Posted April 19, 2018
Who knew you could find love in the literature DVD section of the Central library? That’s where Dick (from the West End) finds John (from Burnaby). They’re both straight but John likes to dress up in “big ol’ girl clothes” on Saturdays and head for the library. And if ‘Dick and John’ sounds a little like Dick and Jane – and if you’re old enough to remember that pair – it’s not completely surprising: Dick and John have a lot of fun together and the tumbling they do is falling in love.
I couldn’t take my eyes off Kevin MacDonald (John) and Evan Frayne (Dick) long enough to turn around and look at the rest of the audience but I’ll bet if I had, I would have seen one big, happy, smiley place.
Set design by Bryan Kenney features a floor-to-ceiling painting of a blue sky full of puffy white clouds and, now and then, two white chairs. The lights go up on John wearing black tights, black Docs, black t-shirt, black skirt, a smooth black wig and a big smile. He looks at us and we can tell: he’s about to share something wonderful with us.
MacDonald utterly charms us with John’s story of going into the Value Village on Hastings (far from John’s Burnaby home where he might be seen by his neighbours); he’s already wearing the tights and he spends $7 on three tees and two skirts. He keeps one skirt and one shirt on, puts on the wig, gets on the bus and heads for the downtown branch of the VPL. “The feeling I get is like a girl, like a woman. It’s a good feeling. It was fun. It was a rush.” He loves the feeling of the air up his skirt. MacDonald beams all over; he exudes happiness and playfulness and we pick up on it. What a feeling.
John, remember, is straight. He’s a mental health worker from Burnaby. He is, in every other respect, pretty conventional. But lonely. And for the first time in a long time, he’s having so much fun.
It’s an engaging monologue to this point, a little repetitious now and again but wonderful.
Enter Dick.
Credit: Emily Cooper
Dick is much less open. He’s straight, too. He doesn’t share much info with John. Initially, he thinks John is a woman “but off”. “This could be her”, he thinks. And then John opens his mouth and Dick instantly knows: John’s a man. Right away John blurts, “I’m straight.” “So”, says Dick, “am I”.
Frayne plays Dick like a lonely, 30-something, ordinary sort of guy. Probably a couch-potato. Few friends. Works all day “for the city” and goes home to his apartment. But he’s intrigued by a straight man dressing up like a woman. And John is intrigued by a guy who’s intrigued by a guy who dresses like a woman.
So what are they doing sometime later dancing up a storm in a gay bar? Having a blast, that’s what. Feeling free. Feeling ‘me’.
Written and directed by James Fagan Tait, The Explanation is simply one of the sweetest, tenderest pieces of theatre you’ll see. It’s honest and candid and funny and true.
A man dressed like a woman who falls for a man who falls for a man dressed like a woman? Whose business is it, really, where we find love? (For the record, Frayne and MacDonald are both straight – something the playwright wanted.)
Credit: Emily Cooper
Produced by the frank theatre (formerly Screaming Weenie Productions) The Explanation fulfils the mandate of the company ‘to produce and promote queer and sex-positive performance’. It’s not about sex; it’s about love and where and how you might find it. Look out for a stampede to the literature DVD shelves at Central branch.
If all this isn’t enough to tempt you, there is some dancing (choreographed by Noam Gagnon) that will leave you laughing your face off. Over the years I have been compiling a list of dance numbers in non-musicals that I’d pay good money to see again; Kevin MacDonald and Evan Frayne just made that list.
Go for the joy. Stay for the dancing. Love – wherever you find it – needs no explanation.