Electric Company Theatre

BY BRIAN PETERSON

THE WESTENDER, JUNE, 1999.

The Electric Company began conceptualizing its latest show with a couple of questions.

Could a story be inspired from a location?  And could a play be built to fit that setting rather than set to fit a play?  The answer is a resounding Yes!  The Wake really delivers the juice.

It’s a hugely ambitious, entertaining, original work that uses various indoor and outdoor sites around False Creek community centre to eyepopping dramatic effect.

Of course, it takes a couple of narrators, Fiction (Jonathon Young) and Truth (Jenny Young) to lead the audience along the route and provide the necessary focus for a surreal plot that pingpongs erratically through the years 1916 to 1942.

The story revolves around the tragic Jones family, the first European inhabitants of Granville Island back when it was known as “Industrial Island” and three generations of women struggling to hang on to their property and sanity as industrial forces push them closer to the water’s edge.

The most central character is clean-obsessed Kathleen (Sonia Norris), daughter of dashing anthropologist Ricardo (Rick Dobran) and Lamentina (Linda Quibell).  We get a first taste of the theatre to come as she describes the sea voyage that brought them to the island while the company simulates the ocean with two clotheslines of waving sheets.

The show really kicks off when the flamboyant Ricardo emerges from the waves in a show-stopping flamenco-esque tune that had me absolutely howling with glee.

(Those who know how I feel about musicals will recognize this as high praise indeed.)

The action then shifts under a footbridge where we witness the government expropriation of the island by a pack of golfing bureaucrats.

Ricardo “shifts” some nebulous native artifacts and then is literally lost at sea while members of the company take to the water in beautiful kerosene lantern-lit row-boats to search for him. 

Does his disappearance have anything to do with sinister industrialist Alvo Von Alvensleben, owner of the Dominion Wire Rope Factory who watches from the far bank in a nicely placed spotlight (courtesy of virtuoso lighting designer Adrian Muir)?

I’m not sure, but Andy Thompson makes a hilarious meal of the role playing the industrialist with Basil Fawlty flair.

Striking images pile onto each other as we witness Lamentina up to her waist in the water in a billowing dress, poignantly poling for the body of her drowned husband.

On to the tennis courts, where Kathleen becomes the object of affection of Von Alvensleben in a furious tango that climaxes in a geyser of tennis balls.

The product of this coupling is Abigail (Kirsten Williams) a polecat-wild archery enthusiast who fires an arrow fatefully into the smitten heart of Fishboy (Tom Jones), a rogue character that Fiction embraces into the story over the objections of Truth.  Whether he belongs or not, Fishboy pitches woo to Abigail with an awkward musical energy that had me charmed.

The action then shifts inside the pigeon dung-splattered parking garage next to Performance Works which becomes the wire factory where Kathleen goes to work and begins spreading seditious wartime gossip about her boss.

The transformation of the space into a bustling factory is boomingly achieved by company members rolling huge spools about with choreographed precision and beating on the pipes and walls.

Unfortunately, some of the scenes that follow are a little short and require too much shuffling of the large audience.  I’m still unsure exactly what the big tragedy was that rocked this unfortunate family; a significant detail the team of writers might consider underlining.

I did, however, love the sparkler-filled climax that provides a symbolic means of escape for the women.

Generally though, I found my gripes with the erratic storytelling swept away by the amazing visual and aural spectacle of the production.

The action is effectively underscored by David Rhymer and Patrick Pennefather’s beautifully wonky live musical score that easily overcame the occasional distractions of dribbling basketballs and yakking pedestrians.

It seemed to me that most people who chanced upon The Wake quickly glommed onto the procession.

That’s a solid  - if chintzy – vote of approval if I’ve ever seen one.