Tremors: Festival of Emerging Talent

At the Italian Cultural Centre until August 25, 2018
Pay-What-You-Decide at theatrewire.com/tremors-festival or at the door

Posted August 18, 2018

Now in its 11^th year, the Tremors Festival is, according to outgoing artistic director Stephen Drover, the ‘flagship’ event of Rumble Theatre. “All the young artists involved in the building of these three plays – the directors, actors, designers, stage managers and technicians – have been assigned discipline-specific mentors from the professional theatre community”. The idea is to provide a bridge into the professional community and, judging from the testimonials that line the walls of the festival lounge, it has been working.

This year the three plays – Theory, Tiny Replicas and Selfie – are all written by Vancouver playwrights: Norman Yeung, Dave Deveau and Christine Quintana respectively.

It’s possible to see all three plays in one evening (or one day) but it’s a lot to absorb. On the other hand, it saves getting out to Slocan and Grandview Highway two or three times. Unlike the Fringe Festival, these are all full-length, no-intermission plays and they are all well-crafted and meaty. There’s about a 7-10-minute break between shows; just enough time to hit the washroom and the lounge for a drink or a snack.

While Quintana, Deveau and Yeung all deal with different subjects, I found a similarity in the material that, doubtless, comes from me having been around for more decades than I like to admit to. That common thread is naivete – not on the part of the playwright but on the part of their characters.

In Theory, Isabelle (Elizabeth Willow), a young, idealistic tenure-track professor, is teaching a course in film study and criticism. As part of the program she sets up an unmoderated online discussion board and encourages the students to use it freely. Even the students express concern that it could get out of hand but Isabelle, determined to provide free and open debate, perseveres. Not much older than her students, she tries hard to reach them, calling them “guys”, urging them to make their postings “not suck” and telling them, “Don’t worry about office hours.” Her door, apparently, is always open. Even her partner Lee (Mariam Barry) also a professor, and a woman of colour, warns Isabelle that things could get out of hand. And they do.

Theory turns into a thriller and then, in the last few moments, it turns into something quite provocative when one disgruntled student challenges Isabelle’s idealism and her attempts at democracy in the classroom. Is Isabelle teaching or power-tripping? Either way, things go sideways.

Theory looks sharp with a clean, white set by Allyson Fournier, projection design by Kyle Stooshnov and video curation (and direction) by Mily Mumford. Flashing up on the huge backdrop are film clips – some of which most of us recognize – Battleship Potemkin, for example – but others that many of us would not have seen – Baise-Moi (Rape Me). There’s not enough footage to be offensive but clearly some in Isabelle’s class are offended. The online postings go from bad to worse including a reference to Isabelle’s partner as her “nigger wife”.

The ‘students’ are seated in the audience and, although it’s a great idea – taking us right into Isabelle’s classroom – it’s sometimes hard to hear the actors as they are facing away from us. As well, we only get to see the back of their heads. It works – but only in theory.

Believable performances from Willow (whose character’s impractical idealism makes her a not particularly sympathetic character) and especially Barry (whose character’s pragmatism makes good sense).

This is the second time around for Tiny Replicas; commissioned by the Playwright’s Theatre Centre, it was produced by Zee Zee Theatre at the Cultch in 2010. Gay couple Simon (Douglas Ennenberg) and Ethan (Alexander Lowe) want a baby. Well, Simon wants a baby; Ethan would probably rather have his office than lose it to a nursery. In an effort to spread the experience (and responsibility) around, they turn to lesbian Audrey for egg donation and to heterosexual Dayna to incubate that artificially fertilized egg for nine months. Sperm will come from Simon because he’s older – although that rationale seems arbitrary and eventually problematic. Where is Ethan in all this? Out in the cold.

How did Ethan (and Simon) think this was going to work? Thanks to Audrey (Bronwyn Henderson) and Dayna (Paige Louter) who tell the guys to “grow the fuck up”, it does work. Well, the play doesn’t go on to poopy diapers, 4 AM howling, teething and all the joys that come with babies so we are left to assume it’s all hunky dory.

Under the direction of Shelby Bushell, the performances are good. I loved the two women – Henderson and Louter – and Deveau has created a terrific character in Jude, Simon’s best friend. Andrew Lynch, as Jude, gets great lines as he offers advice both personal and legal.

The audience is seated in and around the performance area on kindergarten chairs. Not the most comfortable for anyone over 4 feet tall but turning and twisting around to view the action in various parts of the room keeps the circulation going in the lower limbs.

Playwright Deveau and his partner Cameron Mackenzie are the proud fathers of a 6-month-old baby boy so perhaps there will be a parallel to Mom’s the Word. Dads the Words, anyone?

Off the top, let me say I have a strong aversion to selfies so I went into Selfie prepared for the worst. I know, it’s a generational thing but I just don’t get what seems to me unbridled narcissism. Who cares what you ate for breakfast or what a great time you had last night in Yaletown?

Playwright Christine Quintana speaks the language of that generation and Selfie is probably best targeted to the younger set. It sparked a heated discussion between me and my daughter who reiterated: it’s rape if the girl is unconscious and can’t give consent. I get it. It’s rape. But, damn, when a 16 or 17-year-old girl chugalugs tequila straight from the bottle, agrees to go to a boy’s bedroom and then passes out, perhaps there should be allowances made for an 18-year-old guy – also pretty drunk – who takes advantage of the opportunity? No, he shouldn’t be let off the hook but should criminal charges keep him out of university, deny him certain jobs and prohibit him from travelling? I don’t know. Do you?

Olivia Lang is Emma, the tequila-guzzling teenager. Emma is smart and pretty but insecure and best friends, unbelievably, with Lily (Grace Le), a ditzy, out of control, party girl bent on throwing the most “brilliant” party “Ev-er”. Carlen Escarraga is Chris, Lily’s older brother who is university-bound. Chris and Emma “hook up” at the party and she wakes up not remembering anything at all. A trip to her doctor – triggered, I guess, from the condition of her genitals the next morning – tells her she has had sex. And there are photos posted on Instagram and/or FB. Enter the police. And, yes, Emma is prepared to press charges. Lily is outraged; Chris is screwed. There are no adults, no parents on the scene – and we’re left to wonder why Emma is on her own to make this decision.

Selfie made me feel old, conservative and a bad feminist. But if it triggers a conversation between parents and teenagers, or between teenagers, that’s great. Talk about alcohol. Talk about taking responsibility. Talk about all of it. Save the kids from messing up their lives.

Selfie is deftly directed by Pedro Chamale on Emily Fraser’s set and it will spark discussion. If that’s what playwright Quintana had in mind, she has definitely succeeded.

All three plays have main characters – Isabelle, Ethan and Emma – that are naïve to the point of damaging the people around them. They will all grow older and wiser. They will all look back and wonder, “What was I thinking?” But Isabelle probably won’t ever get tenure; Emma will ruin Chris’s life (and maybe he deserves it); of the three, Ethan will probably fare the best. Despite his earlier misgivings, he might actually become a loving father if he can get over not being genetically connected to the baby. Welcome to being all grown up.

The festival is Pay-What-You-Decide (minimum suggestion: $5) and while all three plays might not send tremors through you, they will get you talking.