It’s a rare and precious thing when an audience at a live show can’t even bring themselves to clap. People sitting in rapt attention and refusing to disrupt the what’s unfolding before them is a very good sign. Terrible productions always get tepid obligatory applause at regular intervals. Terrific ones paralyze.

All this to say, if you found yourself overwhelmed partway through Act One of Contact Theatre’s chilling production of Next To Normal, trust that you were not alone. The Pulitzer Prize-winning piece has packed a serious punch since it first debuted on Broadway in 2009, but this new production brought audiences even deeper into the drama thanks to the sensitive direction of Debora Friedmann, who also choreographed the piece.

Friedman and co-founder Ally Brumer, whose company is focused on staging musicals that “grapple with heavy moral issues and question the status quo”, have taken on one of the all-time heavyweights and proven they’re more than up to the challenge. The plot of Normal follows a suburban mother whose struggles with depression and the medical system reach a breaking point.

As uncomfortable a narrative as that may seem, Brian Yorkey’s book and lyrics are overflowing with the kind of honesty and humor that make the exploration of such deep wounds extremely cathartic. Tom Kitt’s Tony-winning rock score, meanwhile, carries you through all of Diana’s ups and downs with soulful energy, especially when performed by a band as talented as this six-person group, under the guidance of gifted Musical Director/Pianist Giancarlo Scalia. It was worth the price of admission for the concert alone, but thankfully this production had much more to offer.

Making clever use of every inch of Studio Hydro-Quebec at Monument National, the creative team gave Diana’s family both the framework of a two-story home in which to grapple with their emotional problems and a large abstract space just beyond its walls, where all bets were off. The audience surrounded this area, getting an up-close-and-personal view of the performers.

Scenic Designer Nikki Mabias Melchor capitalized on this intimacy through the use of a platform that unmoored from the house and served as both a prison and an escape for the struggling heroine. As Diana dealt with therapy sessions or found herself literally torn between her husband and son, Friedmann – with assistance from lighting designer Christopher Wardell – used this cage to create a sense of movement and chaos, as well as some striking visual tableaus. It’s clear an abundance of thought was put into the staging of this production and the end results spoke for themselves.

Diana (Lisa McCormack) and the shadow of Gabe

The cast of amateur talent, meanwhile, cast serious doubt on the fairness of the term “amateur”. There were some truly great vocalists here, beginning with McGill law student Hannah Lazare (Natalie) and Dawson College theatre graduate Jake Cohen (Henry).

Between Normal and Carrie over at Mainline Theatre, Montreal stages seem to have had quite a few compelling young couples entertaining us lately. This duo’s acting chops helped flesh out Natalie’s journey as the daughter of a severely ill woman who is unable to relate to her.

Those familiar with Normal surely appreciated this production’s emphasis on the parallels between Natalie and Henry’s burgeoning romance and that of Diana and Dan, which has frayed to the point of breaking.

As the loyal and helpless husband, Joel Bernstein brought serious pipes and an impressive beard to his portrayal of Dan, who tries to keep his wife’s illness from swallowing them all up. Anyone who has had to watch from the sidelines as a loved one deteriorates could relate to his frustration and determination, which Bernstein delivered with conviction.

Lisa McCormack decidedly had some of the most challenging scenes in the piece, having to play multiple emotions at once while singing a score that proved daunting even for Broadway icon Alice Ripley. She managed well enough and connected in the big moments where it counted most, but – like Diana – was bolstered considerably by the strengths of those around her.

McGill graduate Cathal Rynne, for instance, almost singlehandedly fueled the piece as Diana’s confrontational son Gabe with his powerful belt and deceptively appealing nature. Rounding out the cast was Daniel Wilkenfeld as the various Doctors attempting to help Diana. His comedic flair and confident voice brought a lot to the party, even when his characters warned that “at times, it does hurt to be healed.”

The cast

After having their production of Chicago abruptly cancelled by the onset of the Covid 19 pandemic, Contact Theatre has bounced back beautifully with a show that’s sure to linger the hearts and minds of those lucky enough to have seen it.

Alas, Next To Normal only ran for one week, wrapping up its final performance yesterday evening. It truly deserved a longer run and has certainly proven that there’s an abundance of talent within Montreal’s English-language musical theatre scene, even when there’s sometimes a lack of financial support.

Perhaps it’s time for us all to make a little bit more noise – if not during a captivating performance, then afterwards, once the goosebumps have subsided – so that a company as capable as Contact can get the funding they require to reach as many live entertainment-starved Montrealers as possible. In these challenging times, good art can truly be the best medicine.

For more information, please visit ContactTheatre.ca or reach out to show your support via social media

Images courtesy of Contact Theatre

“Stay in control,” a distorted voice tells you time again throughout the 85-minute Tauberbach, brought to the Monument National theatre by the Festival Transamériques (FTA) for two nights of packed houses. It’s the kind of show that can only emerge from the lavishly state-funded alternate universe otherwise known as Northern Europe.

The German-Belgian dance theatre company Les Ballets C de la B, helmed by luminary director Alain Platel, is a major player in a part of the world that can afford to give a troupe of dancers three uninterrupted months to produce a piece collaboratively, and end up touring the world with a rider that includes 3000 kilograms of mass-produced clothing.

Strewn over the stage in piles from which Platel’s seven dancers emerge (and into which they disappear to comic effect), the three tons (yes, tons) of clothes become the props, set, and habitat for actress Elsie de Brauw and her six acolytes to play with. Teasing the audience with repeated scenes of decadent non-language (like that pan-cultural idiom that Cirque du Soleil clowns speak in, but more intelligible), the athletic characters combine and disperse in a world so artificial that their bodies seem to melt into the polyester. Often employing cinematic techniques of otherwise “cheesy” slow-motion or rewound gestures, the dancers transfix you as they play on a mobile heap of Apocalypse Apparel.

4_tauberbach_cr_chris_van_der_burght_7056“I did not shit this house / There are no more innocent people. There are only wise guys in reverse,” De Brauw’s garbage-picking crone Estamira intones. So this, in a world where refugees to Europe are drowned at sea like so much jetsam, where landfills are so overflowing that ships of garbage are sent to poor countries to handle the overflow, is meant to tell us that we are complicit in Estamira’s material oppression. We are sucked into the performers’ often slapstick physical comedy and then rebuffed by scenes that seem unnecessary or excessive: the artifice and violence of this filthy world – that is only symbolically filthy – appeals to the child within us while repelling our anal-retentive adult tastes.

Tauberbach is the opposite of the nicely arranged electronic music that so often accompanies contemporary dance; it is an indictment against the empty black (or white) stage with a lap-top on it. “What a blessing nothing grows,” we are told by the Beckett-like main character. If only we could say that of the extravagant quantities of man-made waste we dump into forests and oceans. Alas, no: the natural world recedes and the garbage keeps growing. And we dance in its wake.

Belonging to the generation of 80s legends that redefined “maximalist” choreography (Jan Fabre, Caterina Sagna, Carolyn Carlson, and the late Pina Bausch), Platel is a wizard of uncanny juxtapositions. While his last envoy to the FTA, Gardenia (2011), was an episodic character study of seven geriatric drag artists, Tauberbach takes inspiration from two artworks far removed from the realm of contemporary Tanztheater: Brazilian director Marcos Prado’s Estamira, about a middle-aged woman and her entourage who eek a living off a garbage dump, and Polish interdisciplinary artist Arthur Zmijewski’s film Singing Lesson 2 which features a choir of young deaf people singing well-known works by J.S. Bach. It’s a typical Platel chiastic of the Apollonian and the Dionysian.

There’s a reason that this work of vocal, visceral, baroque dance theatre also manages to be a crowd-pleaser, well two reasons, really: Ross McCormack and Romeu Runa. The former with his up-close-and-salivating vocal techniques and muscular presence, the latter with his Ivo Demchev-like back-bending animalism, are like extraterrestrial siblings: complete control and complete abandonment. Bach in a garbage pile. Everything.