By Delia Macpherson, Assistant Arts Editor
On the bill this week at Neptune Theatre is Canadian playwright David Young’s No Great Mischief. Originally a novel written by Alistair Macleod, who grew up on a farm in Cape Breton, the play shows us the stories of the MacDonald clan.
The show centers around lead character Alexander MacDonald played by David Mcllwraith. His character is the bored, annoyed, dispassionate type. A character who is bored or annoyed all the time, unless masterfully done, translates similar energies into the audience, leaving them equally as unconcerned. Mcllwraith’s character, for the most part, did exactly this.
No Great Mischief opened with most of the characters on stage, all facing the back wall, except Alexander MacDonald who sat in the centre, holding an invisible steering wheel, driving an invisible car. The characters facing the back wall began to hum and chant.
To avoid the confusion of actors coming on and off the stage between scenes, most of the performers remained on stage facing this same back wall when they weren’t performing. This was distracting. To avoid the confusion of changing sets, the stage consisted off a handful of chairs, a few musical instruments and a misty, blue backdrop – simple and dull.
Duncan Fraser played Callum MacDonald, brother to Alexander. He gave an absolutely brilliant performance. It was worth going to this show just to see his acting. Debuting at Neptune Theatre, Fraser takes on the challenging role of a verbally abusive alcoholic.
He appeared for the first time sitting in the far right hand corner of the stage, wearing a dirty undershirt and a bright red dress shirt. He had white spiked hair and patchy scruff. He was shaky and spoke with a sarcastic, throaty Cape Breton accent and a tight chest.
“The MacDonald’s come from storm and shadow!”
If Callum MacDonald were ripped out of this play, he would still be equally entertaining if not more so. The plot is monotonous, repetitive and dogmatic.
The characters, set, props and story he interacted with were tedious and tiresome. There was no action, or colour, or conflict. Why not plunk the bitter alcoholic from Cape Breton, who most of us can relate to, in an old folks home? Or a mental institute? Both of these settings make us uncomfortable, and therefore all the more captivated. Think Martin Scorsese’s upcoming film Shutter Island. It’s set on a remote island where equally fascinating characters interact with each other – something worth watching.
Why not take a risk?
Richard Rose, director of No Great Mischief, obviously knew what he’s doing. The play screamed good director. The movements were tight, the blocking interesting, the performers confident, the transitions smooth. Rose has worked on unconventional shows before, including directing a play performed in a house in Toronto. Each audience member picked a character and followed them around the house. That sounds awesome! Why not take the MacDonald family and set them up in home and do it the same way?
So much theatre is done without originality these days. For theatre to be brought back into the mainstream it needs to embrace challenges. Of course not all theatre needs to be alternative or earth shattering. The goal should be for a balance to suite all tastes. The tastes at Neptune must be bland.
The only real risk No Great Mischief took was with the lighting. There were cool lighting transitions mostly reflecting the weather and the moods of the characters, such as effects to mimic sunshine. There were also a few scenes set in mining shafts, where the only light came from the top of the men’s helmets.
Risk leaves audience members on the edge of their chairs. Risk includes fake blood, a tricky set change, an elaborate set, nudity or a touchy subject. It can breathe life into a show. Risk can be anything unconventional that aims to generate a response, any response at all, negative or positive, as long as the audience is engaged.
No Great Mischief had mind-blowing acting, chill music, interesting lighting and great direction. But it was conventional. Why not edit the play? Take something conventional and change things around. Make it original. How is the theatre world going to sustain itself on these types of performances? When the target age group is gone 50 years from now, what then?
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