Skip to main content

REVIEW: Trojan Girls & The Outhouse of Atreus at Factory Theatre/Outside the March in Association with Neworld Theatre

int(101938)
/By / Aug 12, 2022
SHARE

Let us now away to ancient Greece — or, er, Grease. Or both, as is the case in Trojan Girls & The Outhouse of Atreus, the multi-worlded, tongue-in-cheek marvel in residence at Factory Theatre (at least physically speaking — it’s co-produced by Outside the March and Neworld Theatre). 

Partly immersive and wholly ambitious, Trojan Girls & The Outhouse of Atreus is an adaptation of Gillian Clark’s The Ruins, and Mitchell Cushman’s directorial conceit is built on what should be a foundation of impossibility: two plays are performed simultaneously by one cast. Eight actors play sixteen parts, gallivanting between Factory’s courtyard and its studio space. Outside, the actors play teenagers — greasers and grifters bound to the monotony of the fictional New Troy, Ontario. Their parents are tyrannical, their fates rigid and frightening. Inside lies a lower-stakes affair, in which the youths’ parents facilitate New Troy’s annual Duck n’ Swing dance and search for existential meaning inside an outhouse.

There’s a distinct coming-of-age thread woven throughout the stories, connecting the failures of the parents with the insecurities of the children. Eighteen-year-old Penelope straddles both worlds, the object of affection for both her peers and her elders. Cassandra, the young soothsayer shrouded in quirks, knows something awful will happen tonight — but no one will believe her. Ned is a veteran with a tortured soul and a thin thread of belief in tradition and community. Hecuba and Cassandra lost their mother in a drowning accident, and her spirit lives on only when the sisters come together.

Through small stories of personal grief and collective memory playwright Clark creates a melancholy snapshot of small-town youth, smartly studded with Grease references and oodles of yearning, sexual energy. The overarching story seems to be Cassandra’s prophecy — interlocked with a high-stakes prom-posal for Penelope — though the magic here happens in the details, and less so in the big-picture plot(s) of Trojan Girls & The Outhouse of Atreus.

It’s a Cushman/Outside the March affair through and through, meticulous and sprawling, jam-packed with ideas on what theatre is, what theatre does, and how theatre does it with the help of its audience. Bound together by a world-class cast of young actors, the production often soars to impossible emotional heights: there is not a single weak link onstage, all the more impressive considering the physical demands of each track. Elena Reyes as Andromache/Elektra, Amy Keating as Cassandra/Ned/Artemis, and Katherine Cullen as Helen/Nestra are standouts, but they’re also afforded the most compelling material — Cheyenne Scott’s Penelope, Merlin Simard’s Thalthybius/Hermes, Jeff Yung’s Odysseus/Orestes, Liz Der’s Hecuba/Penthesilea/Artemis, and Sébastien Heins’ Menelaus/King Memnon are provocative and strong, too. 

But a knockout cast doesn’t absolve the Trojan girls or their outhouse of the fact that Cushman’s two-plays-one-cast vision doesn’t quite work here — it’s simply too much, and bisecting the plays reveals cracks in each one. The connective tissue between the grimy New Troy and the folksy Duck n’ Swing atrophied for me at intermission, and by the time the audience had the chance to absorb both halves of the experience, the relatedness of the two halves felt a little forced. The outside portion is simply inspired, with sneaky entrances against the chaos of Bathurst Street. Even with a fence between the Factory Courtyard and the rest of the world, the noises and topography of 2022 Toronto pervade the story, and they’ve been used playfully in the realization of the teenagers’ stories. The outside portion is so good that, for me, it was sorely missed during the more traditional play staged indoors. But an outdoor campfire also presents some real challenges to audience members. It’s definitely real smoke, and those sitting in front of the fire pit may struggle to breathe — folks certainly did at the performance I attended.

The creative team has made magic of the Grease references in Clark’s often-funny script, cladding cast members in funky costumes (Nick Blais) and bolstering New Troy with suspenseful, effective music and sound (Heidi Chan). Michael Laird’s audio system design worked perfectly the night I attended — no small feat against the ruckus of the Bathurst/Adelaide intersection — and the total care and competence of stage managers Daniel Oulton and Meghan Speakman is keenly felt throughout both halves of Trojan Girls & The Outhouse of Atreus.

I may go see the production a second time. I get the sense it’s a wildly different experience, depending on which play you elect to see first — I found it interesting that critics weren’t given a choice on opening night, while other audience members were. Trojan Girls & The Outhouse of Atreus is a total feat of storytelling and logistical planning, and the idea of a two-play-one-cast project might work in dialogue with a less complicated script. But at three hours plus intermission, the story here feels so vast that even a perfect cast can’t quite bring it back down to earth.

Trojan Girls & The Outhouse of Atreus runs at Factory Theatre through August 28. Tickets are available here.

Aisling Murphy
WRITTEN BY

Aisling Murphy

Aisling is Intermission's former senior editor and the theatre reporter for the Globe and Mail. She likes British playwright Sarah Kane, most songs by Taylor Swift, and her cats, Fig and June. She was a 2024 fellow at the National Critics Institute in Waterford, CT.

LEARN MORE

Comments

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *


/
Jake Epstein as Frank and Isabella Esler as Alice in Life After. iPhoto caption: Pictured (L to R): Jake Epstein as Frank, Isabella Esler as Alice. Photo by Michael Cooper.

REVIEW: Britta Johnson’s Life After shimmers in large-scale Mirvish transfer

The show’s tender excavation of grief’s ambiguities hasn’t lost any power in its journey to a bigger house; in fact, it’s clearer than ever.

By Liam Donovan
Kevin Matthew Wong watches a projected video of his grandmother. iPhoto caption: Photo by Jae Yang.

REVIEW: Tarragon’s wonderful Benevolence reflects on diaspora, community, and place

Playwright-performer Kevin Matthew Wong’s script is heartfelt, conversational, and at times poetic, moving effortlessly between heavier moments of grief and lighter moments of joy and humour.

By Charlotte Lilley
Neil D'Souza as Krishna and Anaka Maharaj-Sandhu as Arjuna in Why Not Theatre’s Mahabharata (Shaw Festival, 2023). iPhoto caption: Photo by David Cooper.

REVIEW: Why Not Theatre’s Mahabharata is a glorious theatrical banquet

This extraordinary ensemble of artists has made something truly harmonious, truly epic: a story that speaks to a mythical past, honouring a range of South Asian artistic traditions while also drawing a direct line to where — and who — we are now.

By Naomi Skwarna
Rick Roberts in Feast at Tarragon Theatre. iPhoto caption: Photo by Jae Yang.

REVIEW: Guillermo Verdecchia’s Feast is a fascinating text, but Tarragon’s new production feels hazy

I found the play really resonant and rich and layered. It’s about globalization, privilege, travel, displacement, and inequity, and it brought up many associations and past experiences for me. But I don’t feel that Soheil Parsa’s production fully comes together.

By Karen Fricker, , Liam Donovan
Karen Hines as Pochsy. iPhoto caption: Karen Hines as Pochsy. Photos by Gary Mulcahey.

REVIEW: VideoCabaret’s Pochsy IV is bizarre, vicious, and hilarious

I can confidently say that you don’t have to have a 30-year-plus background with Karen Hines’ clown character Pochsy to quickly understand her mix of oddball conviction, sly wordplay, and bland narcissism.

By Ilana Lucas
Ins Choi in Son of a Preacherman. iPhoto caption: Photo by Chelsey Stuyt.

REVIEW: Ins Choi debuts impassioned new solo musical at Vancouver’s Pacific Theatre

Faith is the message at Son of a Preacherman’s core. Faith in your beliefs, faith in your passions, faith in your calling, and, most of all — faith in yourself.

By Reham Cojuangco