After 8 days of walking the Fringe grounds and chatting to volunteers, staff, and artists in 2 minute intervals between using the bathroom for the first time in 4 hours or shoving a green onion cake into my face, this is still the only show that I have heard universal praise for. I am very picky with shows. I am also very picky with whose word-of-mouth I trust. Everyone with good taste that I chatted with agreed that this show was not to be missed.

A lot of things stood in the way of me getting to this show in the schedule-planning phase. I sprained my ankle and didn’t know if I would be able to drive by then. The show is 90 minutes long, a tough runtime to slot into a dense schedule. It’s also at Artshub Ortona, a venue I generally dislike and must be driven to, made only worse by how many mosquitoes seem to love this venue specifically. This is also a licensed work, whereas I try to prioritize original plays. If I was going to overcome all of that to come to this show, it needed to be worth it.

So you can imagine how high my expectations were.

I can confidently say that among the 45 shows I’ve seen so far this Fringe, this is a must-see.

Right away when walking into the space, I didn’t even recognize it as Artshub Ortona. It feels like stepping into another magical world. By the words of the artist, the setup takes about an hour. Hour well spent. Visually, the set is lush and immersive. Sightlines are better than they ever have been at this venue, which is vital because performers whirl around you and fully utilize the entire space, inviting the audience to gaze from side to side to side to side of the room.

The show unfurls like a puzzle box. Careful attention from the audience is rewarded as stories overlap and weave through various times and lives, initially with very little tying them together. Some may find this work confusing, but non-linear plot is my favourite kind, so as I told the friendly patron beside me when they vaguely explained the structure of the show to me: “hell yeah!”

The music is sonically diverse, lyrically intricate, and performed with unbelievable talent by the four actors. They played all of the instruments while acting and singing, which I know is hard because the moments of audience pariticipation really exposed how few people can hold a basic beat. Everything from the harmonies, the vocal flexibility, the loud and the quiet, was fine-tuned and impeccably rehearsed. Call me basic, but a solo ballad near then end that was perhaps the most conventional song of the night made me cry real tears—something I really, really try not do to when seating is set up so you’re face-to-face with other sections of the audience because I get recognized by name for these reviews too often and I don’t want people also recognizing me for weeping profusely in public.

The lighting was beautifully-done. Never have I been so happy to watch an entire act of a play in almost total darkness. However, despite the hard work on the space, it’s not perfect. The second floor lights are on. You can see car headlights driving by through the pipe and drape. Only a curtain separates you from the lobby, which was sometimes lit up briefly during the show. Even so, I was mesmerized by what was happening on stage and these things were barely distracting—and really, kind of a nice reminder that this space is smack dab on a river valley intersection and they transformed it masterfully.

I cannot believe that we can see a show like this for $20. It makes me feel bad, like seeing a shirt marked $5 at the store. And knowing how much licensing fees for plays can be, I am worried that these artists aren’t being paid commensurate to their triumphant work. This is Fringe, and independent arts, and Alberta, and capitlalism, but damn. We need to be throwing money at these people. We need to keep supporting independent artists so shows like this are possible.