REVIEW: In Ronnie Burkett’s darkly intelligent Wonderful Joe, gentrification hits like a meteor
iPhoto caption: Photo by Ian Jackson
When Siminovitch-winning puppet virtuoso Ronnie Burkett decided to centre his latest play Wonderful Joe on a landlord’s attempts to transform a rundown apartment complex into a chic arts centre, was he thinking of TO Live’s $421-million plan to redevelop its St. Lawrence Centre for the Arts into something a little less 1970s? I’d wager not — but as Burkett performed it in the building’s Jane Mallett Theatre, with city staff’s recent recommendation against the proposal still hovering in the air, parallels arose. A squall of chuckles even rolled in after a character putting on a devised theatre production in an alley proclaimed that fancy glass enclosures aren’t required to make art.
Wonderful Joe’s pointed depiction of a close-knit neighbourhood’s struggle with gentrification and rising costs of living is pertinent in other ways, too. Nearly every character is queer, for instance, a detail that brings to mind the Gay Village’s constant attempts to defend itself from overzealous condo developers. But as the ingeniously structured play sails on, these contemporary resonances duck below the waves, giving way to darker, more fantastical happenings.
As is his tendency, Burkett performs solo, bringing dozens of figures to life through intricately designed marionettes and sharply defined character voices. After Joe Pickle, an aging resident of the aforementioned building, hears of his coming eviction, he takes to the halls, gabbing about the news with everyone he encounters. Between dilapidated, graffiti-blanketed walls — and above the ocean of black garbage bags that fills the building’s basement — we meet an effervescent community of working-class folks.
The narrative then swerves, suddenly becoming much less about its titular evictee. Though Joe and his inexpressive dog attend the performance in the alley, Burkett barely highlights his reaction to it, instead transforming Wonderful Joe into the play-within-a-play for an extended period of time, oddly complex lighting design (by Kevin Humphrey) and all.
This ramshackle collective creation reminded me of Act 3 Theatre’s Disarming Venus, a production at this year’s Toronto Fringe Festival, penned and performed by a group of women aged 50 and up. In both works, the creators recall memories that have come to define their understanding of society. The actors in Wonderful Joe highlight the moment each feels “the meteor hit” in their lives, implying the world around them — which might be mistaken for ours — now resembles a dystopia. And my audience was invested: After each puppet told their tale, applause rained down, a testament to Burkett’s impassioned performance(s) and the scene’s finely wrought dialogue.
Because this material — the journey through the building, then the alley play — serves to paint a (rich, loving, varied) portrait of the community Joe lives in, it can have an expository feel, despite taking up the majority of Wonderful Joe’s 90-minute, intermission-less runtime. But the two remaining scenes venture into more surreal territory. The first, set in a gay bar, involves lengthy discussion of mascots like the Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus. The even weirder second further explores notions of imagination, especially as it relates to childhood.
Looking back at the rest of the show, this context in hand, I’m tempted to say Wonderful Joe’s primary concern is belief. Watching a puppet show always involves a degree of mental adjustment — the equipping of figurative glasses, if not physical ones. The show’s plodding, relatively ordinary first scene is therefore useful as a gentle reintroduction to Burkett’s brand of miniature storytelling, which includes puppets hanging in clear view, technical-glitch-shrouding improvisations, and volleys of curse words (children under the age of 16 won’t be admitted, warns TO Live’s website). Once he’s won our belief, Burkett can then stretch it like a mound of Plasticine, adding on extra globs from his shelf of props before tossing it into the moonlit sky.
And, for the record: As I exited this remarkable production, the vintage nature of the St. Lawrence Centre’s exterior didn’t bother me one bit — I was too giddy thinking about Wonderful Joe’s witty, winding ways.
Wonderful Joe runs at the St. Lawrence Centre for the Arts until October 23. Tickets are available here.
Intermission reviews are independent and unrelated to Intermission’s partnered content. Learn more about Intermission’s partnership model here.
Liam Donovan
Liam is Intermission’s senior editor. His writing has appeared in publications like Maisonneuve, This, and NEXT. He loves the original Super Mario game very much.
LEARN MORE
iPhoto caption: Photo by Dahlia Katz.
REVIEW: Detailed design anchors confident Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? at Canadian Stage
Tasked for the second time in a year with filling the titanic canvas of the Bluma Appel Theatre, director Brendan Healy opts for hundreds of little strokes over a single massive one.
iPhoto caption: Photos by Dahlia Katz.
REVIEW: Two site-specific TIFT shows flirt with nonconformity
Screw the proscenium: a house kitchen and a warehouse take front and centre in Talk Is Free Theatre's productions of Cock and For Both Resting and Breeding.
iPhoto caption: Photo by Dahlia Katz.
REVIEW: Heist steals from cinema’s playbook at London’s Grand Theatre
What does it take to pull off a heist? And more importantly, what does it take to pull off a heist on stage? The Grand Theatre’s latest co-production with the Citadel Theatre answers these questions with thrills, style, and spectacle.
iPhoto caption: Photo by Dahlia Katz.
REVIEW: Psychology and ideology collide in Necessary Angel’s austere Winter Solstice
Winter Solstice left me in a state of tension — pondering whether, in a similar situation, I’d be more likely to flirt with or kill a potentially evil man.
iPhoto caption: Photo by Ann Baggley.
REVIEW: Here For Now’s Dinner with the Duchess is an aching étude on the cost of creative passion
Dinner with the Duchess is a tallying of an artistic life’s costs that builds a symphony out of simple presentation, resounding long past the final note.
iPhoto caption: Photo by Dahlia Katz.
REVIEW: Wights sizzles with ambition at Crow’s Theatre
While the play’s genre-straddling form feels slightly too ambitious for its concept, this sheer ambition is exciting, challenging audiences to think, while warning us that we can only go so far with words.
iPhoto caption: Photo by Dahlia Katz.
REVIEW: Detailed design anchors confident Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? at Canadian Stage
Tasked for the second time in a year with filling the titanic canvas of the Bluma Appel Theatre, director Brendan Healy opts for hundreds of little strokes over a single massive one.
iPhoto caption: Photo by Dahlia Katz.
REVIEW: Psychology and ideology collide in Necessary Angel’s austere Winter Solstice
Winter Solstice left me in a state of tension — pondering whether, in a similar situation, I’d be more likely to flirt with or kill a potentially evil man.
Announcing the winners of the 2024 Nathan Cohen Awards
The Canadian Theatre Critics Association has announced the winners of the 2024 Nathan Cohen Awards for Excellence in Critical Writing, including two writers from Intermission.
iPhoto caption: Photo by Dahlia Katz.
High-octane crime caper makes Ontario premiere at London’s Grand Theatre
This January, the Grand is diving into the world of diamonds, deals, and deceit with Arun Lakra’s Ocean’s Eleven-inspired Heist.
iPhoto caption: Photographed productions from L to R, top to bottom, with the photographer in brackets: seven methods of killing kylie jenner (Dahlia Katz), Big Stuff (Dahlia Katz), De Profundis (Dahlia Katz), Goblin:Macbeth (Jae Yang), Salesman in China (David Hou), Dana H. (John Lauener), Earworm (Dahlia Katz), Age Is a Feeling (Dahlia Katz), Honey I’m Home (Eden Graham).
Our favourite theatre productions of 2024, in Toronto and beyond
End-of-year lists are personal. When it comes to theatre, the question isn’t really what shows you liked most, but which ones left the strongest imprint, continuing to pinball around in your mind and heart even after the set is gone and the cast no longer recalls their lines.
iPhoto caption: Photo by Danelle Jane Tran.
REVIEW: Yes, Holiday! An Improvised Musical really is different every night
Putting aside its opening number and a single proper noun, every word of Bad Dog Theatre’s Dora Award-nominated Holiday! An Improvised Musical has the potential to change from performance to performance.
Comments