Herringbone

Anvil Centre Theatre (New Westminster) until October 6, 2019
Tickets from $24 at www.ticketstonight.ca or 604-684-2787

Posted September 29, 2019

Herringbone, written in 1975, put the late Canadian-American playwright and librettist Tom Cone (1947-2012) on the map. The play had been written for the New Play Centre’s DuMaurier Festival of New Plays where it had, according to Cone, “an abrupt and outrageous kind of success.” He expanded the one-act into a full-length play and then, according to an interview with The Capilano Review (Winter 2008), Cone decided what it needed was to be “through-composed” (as opposed to having anecdotal  music) and Herringbone, with book by Cone, music by Skip Kennon and lyrics by Ellen Fitzhugh was born in 1981. Billed as “a delightfully upsetting one-person musical”, Herringbone now intermingles text and about thirty songs.

It is a truly quirky, quite creepy, fabulous showcase for a performer who must sing, dance and master about a dozen roles – sometimes switching back and forth on the spot. This Patrick Street Production has gone one step further: George, the narrator and main character, is being played on alternate nights either by Peter Jorgensen or Luisa Jojic. Why not, asks director Kayla Dunbar. Cone – always up for an experiment – would have, no doubt, agreed.

Cone, from the beginning, was an avant-garde artist and the Herringbone storyline is surreal. It’s 1929 and hard times have fallen on eight-year-old George’s family in Demopolis, Alabama: his father Arthur and his mother Louise are having difficulty making ends meet. When George’s rich Uncle Billy dies, there’s hope for an inheritance but when that falls through, something must be done. That ‘something’ is to give little George acting lessons and make it big in Hollywood. A man’s suit – herringbone, of course – is tailored for the little guy and off they go for private tutoring. So far, straightforward.

But then, George’s toes start dancing; he can’t stop them and soon he is possessed by the spirit of Lou, a dead midget vaudevillian who had some success  as the frog in a ‘Frog and Chicken’ routine. Lou has been looking for a body to move into so he can catch up on all the sex he missed since being murdered a decade ago by his stage partner, the chicken. Little George is a perfect fit. Little George loses his virginity to a floozie. Little George wants to die.

Quirky and creepy.

The night I attended, Peter Jorgensen was George (and Arthur, Louise, Lou, Mr. Mosely, a desk clerk/floozie, George’s grandmother, Howard, the tailor and all the others). It’s a tour de force performance on a tiny stage with one set piece: a trunk that doubles as a place to sit. Terrific lighting in a bright and gaudy vaudevillian style is by Sophie Tang. The music isn’t easy but Jorgensen masters it readily, making every word, every note count.  He is accompanied by Sean Bayntun (musical director), Alicia Murray and John Bews, located stage left.

Jorgensen’s transformations from character to character are impeccable: not only are we cued by the various voices (tiny-voiced George to gentile Louise, assertive Arthur and raspy, aggressive Lou) but also with body language. We are never lost for a moment in this two-hour show.

Nor does Jorgensen lose us emotionally when things go sideways for little George who cannot seem to rid himself of gross, self-promoting, womanizer Lou.

Cone was a pretty newly-hatched playwright in 1975 and he throws everything into Herringbone: patriotism, ambition, something akin to parental abuse, desperation, loss of innocence, possibly schizophrenia, maybe pedophilia, murder and possible suicide. But it’s all done with a kind of amiable charm.

The theatre is set up partly cabaret style with some small tables and the rest of the audience seated traditionally. It’s a small and intimate setting, perfect for the material. Reviews of Luisa Jojic’s performance are also excellent; it would actually be fun to catch both versions and the company is considering a  price reduction for those who choose this option.

Written at a time when LIP (Local Initiatives Program) grants were being handed out by Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau and everyone (including Tom Cone) was jumping on the $140/week bandwagon, Herringbone is vintage 70s Canadian theatre. If for no other reason, it’s worth seeing it to see where we’ve been and what funding the arts can lead to. More than that, Tom Cone summed it up beautifully: “Nothing can compare with the intensity of a living actor on the stage.” Patrick Street Theatre gives us not one but two actors – alternating nightly – to prove the point.