Joe Szekeres

Contributing Our Theatre Voice Writer Alessandro Stracuzzi's review of THREE DESCENDING NOTES:

THREE DESCENDING NOTES. (Episodic.) Four mermaids, a singing bear, and a pirate enter the subway. No, this is not the beginning of a joke. They are just a few of the human and non-human figures encountered by 70-year-old Odelia. She was simply riding home on the TTC, so how on earth did she end up in a sun-drenched valley where animals hum in harmony?

This 40-minute musical attempts to draw us into the fractured mind of a woman living with dementia. By delving into her hallucinations, Robin North’s book creates intriguing and at times whimsical tableaux, enhanced by Nae Phillips’s surprisingly streamlined projections. The piece takes up a compelling subject with tenderness and imagination. Yet its loose rhythm and episodic structure ultimately leave the audience without a firm sense of direction. Rachael Cardiello’s lullaby-swaying score proves suspenseful: like Odelia, we are meant to feel lost. The problem is that the show too often seems lost, too.

From Alessandro Stracuzzi, Contributing writer to OUR THEATRE VOICE and his review of 1920’S WALKING AROUND IN A DREAM.

(Frothy.) The word amateur comes from the Latin amator, meaning “lover.” So when I call this an amateur production, I mean it in the tenderest sense of the word: far from refined, yet wearing its love of theatre proudly on its sleeve. Playwright Natalie Kaye transplants A Midsummer Night’s Dream to jazz-age Chicago, giving Shakespeare’s comedy a brassy, Roaring Twenties makeover. The result has a rough-around-the-edges charm.

Under Declan Meagher’s direction, actors dance the Charleston and shimmy their shoulders with undefeated energy. Cumbersome scene changes and broad slapstick become part of the evening’s homespun appeal. The concept also allows for some enjoyably cheeky reinventions. Kimberly Van Vo’s Hermia sashays onstage in a scarlet, rhinestone-studded dress, while Daytoni Raye’s moustachioed Dimitri – the production’s Demetrius – is imagined as a prizefighter. The evening’s laurels, however, go to Gareth Finnigan. He brings warmth and comic timing to Andy, the production’s Lysander, especially during “Satisfy,” a playful number in which he worries he is too inexperienced to please his lover. The reinvention exudes wit, transporting us to a sparkling age of Prohibition. But in defiance of the law, everyone here seems to carry a hip flask, taking the occasional swig to survive their romantic entanglements. As it turns out, booze makes a perfectly good substitute for Shakespeare’s love potion.