At Kay Meek Arts Centre until May 19, 2018
Tickets from $29 at kaymeek.com
Posted May 17, 2018
Finally, a play to help cat owners figure out what motivates dog owners. Why do they pay thousands of dollars to surgically remove gloves, sox or rocks that their respective Rovers or Spots mistook for actual food? Why do dog lovers go out in the pouring rain or blinding snow to work the fat off Chubby or to ‘socialize’ with other dogs? Why are they willing to look ridiculous carrying around bags of doggie doo-doo? Wouldn’t it just be a lot cheaper, easier and less embarrassing to have a cat?
The Best Brothers explores the fanaticism of dog owners but it’s mostly about sibling rivalry that extends into adulthood. Who did dear departed Mom love best? I love this line: “She loved me best but she loved you harder.”
What motivated me to cross the bridge to West Vancouver to see The Best Brothers? It’s written by Daniel MacIvor (See Bob Run, You Are Here, Who Killed Spalding Gray, In On It and more). He has collaborated with Daniel Brooks (House, Cul-de-sac, This Is What Happens Next) and is presently collaborating with Rufus Wainwright on an opera that will open the Canadian Opera Company 2018-19 season. In other words, playwright MacIvor, hailing from Nova Scotia and winner of the Siminovitch Prize in 2008, is a heavyweight in Canadian theatre.
The Best Brothers, however, is not at all heavy. Well, I guess the death of Bunny Best, Kyle Best and Hamilton Best’s mother – killed under mysterious, sort of tragic, sort of comic circumstances at the Gay Pride parade – is a little heavy but MacIvor doesn’t dwell on it.
Kyle (Ryan James Miller) is gay, a condo realtor who can barely keep his hands off his very-recently-deceased mother’s condo. Hamilton (Aidan deSalaiz) is a condo designer and, at least in the beginning, appears to be the more stable of the two. Kyle is a sports-jacket-and bow-tie kind of guy; Hamilton is a white-shirt-and-tie fellow.
The response to their separate phonecalls announcing their mother’s death defines them perfectly. Kyle: “Oh, I see, no rush, then.” Hamilton: “Oh, god, I better get down there.” They haggle over the obituary: “Peacefully” or “dreadfully”; “beloved” or “loving” – neither of which seems true. Bunny Best, after the boys’ father abandoned them, had a steady string of boyfriends and not much time for her own boys.
Late in life, after doing some kind of mind-altering drug, Bunny saw the light and proclaimed, “I am going to get a dog”. And she did; she got Enzo, an Italian greyhound with a penchant for chewing very expensive furniture.
Act 1 goes by with the speed of a dog chasing a cat but it’s not completely successful. We appreciate that Kyle is gay, is probably obsessive-compulsive and a regular pain in the butt, but director Sharon Bajer lets Miller off-leash and he leans on the stereotype too much. MacIvor writes great dialogue and terrific characters; why not let the script work on its own merits without overloading it? Miller does, if anything, do it too well. It would have been really interesting to see a more nuanced performance from him.
However, Act 2 really fetches The Best Brothers home. Kyle is more thoughtful and Miller truly rises to the occasion. It’s Hamilton’s turn to fall apart now and deSalaiz does a couple of great meltdowns.
Both actors don their mother’s plum-coloured hat and frilly white gloves and do several turns as Bunny; it’s always amazing to see what a very slight costume change and some body language can do to create a character. In their own way, both Miller and deSalaiz, inhabit Bunny Best.
The curtain falls on a scene that dog lovers will completely respond to. The Best Brothers is about best brothers – able to come to terms with their rivalry and their differences – but it’s a funny and powerful argument for owning a dog and having the love of a dog – and love in general – in your life. Cat lovers and those without dogs beware: you may find yourself at the SPCA within hours hoping to scoop your very own Enzo.