& | S GLOOMY FUN IN THE HOUSE OF USHER by Marnie MacEwen “One step nearer the light you have genius,” proclaims a frail and melancholic Roderick Usher, “One step nearer the dark you have madness. In between is an undefinable re- gion.” Those of us who can but chose to live in that undefinable region would find the house of Usher to be very dark indeed. And PINK INK’s Sandhano Schultze, the director of The Fall of the House of Usher, has given this dark atmosphere a rather stunning realization for the run at the Firehall. Using almost no props and presenting the story on a Shakespear- ean bare stage, Schultze has created a world where darkness, sickness, decay and ennui will only leave the soul long enough to be filled with madness. Or perhaps with a bit-of light. For the PINK INK produc- tion of The Fall of the House of Usher is a lighting designer’s dream. Lighting effects (provided by Del Surjik) create a moonlit window, on the inside of which we see Roderick (Mike Stack) and Madeline (Kristen Robek) awash in blue, antici- pating the arrival of Roderick’s old friend. At the same time we see the Friend (David Mackay) on the outside of the house looking up at the melancholic brother and sister, rightfully apprehensive as to what awaits him upon entering the house of Usher. Next, a rectangle of pale overhead light fills the stage creating a formal dining table at which Madeline and Roderick Usher and their visiting friend must go through their eating ritual. A similar lighting effect creates the dank and foul smelling crypt in the dungeon of the house into which Madeline will have the most distinct displeasure of being buried alive after a life-long battle with catalepsy. In fact, the opening image of the play is that of Madeline, eyes closed arms crossed over her gothic bodice in the clas- sic 'corpse-in-coffin pose. Perhaps she has died before the play even begins, yet she is standing upright in a very tight spotlight centrestage. A stranger creeps towards her in com- plete silence until he is directly in front of her. Lowering his ear to her heart he listens to see if it is still beating. Madeline’s eyes pop open and she lets cry a blood-curdling scream. Blackout. Before the arrival of the Friend who might relieve them from their efforts of ennui, Roderick and Madeline, appear to us as melancholic music box dancers, in a sort of Beckettian decline. “Decayed but not unstable,” states Roderick. They are doomed to repetitive, slow and rhythmic movements, the orchestration of which was driven by David Rimmer’s marvelously melancholic soundscape. The act of turning the pages of a book or brushing one’s hair takes on monumental effort for the pair. And, after one sexually devouring pas de deux ends in a vampirish bloodletting, one cannot help but wonder if we are witnessing the improvisations of two par- ticularly bored immortals. Schultze, in keeping with Berkhoff’s very presentational style has created a world in which the theatrical possibilities seems endless. Wearing ghostly white make-up and costumed in “excessive antiquity”, the actors’ bodies take us to theatri- - cal extremes - always maintaining a balance between com- edy and melodrama. As well, they communicated that self- aware “wink” to the opening night audience as if to say we were all there to be challenged by theatrical forms. For me, I was happily transported back about 5 years to PINK INK’s last presentation of Berkhoff’s work with their incredibly successful and innovative production of Greek. Then, as now, they seemed to hit all the right notes. The Fall of the House of Usher seems the perfect Hal- loween season offering. Complaints have been registered that the production is all effect, all atmosphere; perhaps it may have seemed gimmicky had it gone on for too long, but The Fall of the House of Usher runs only about 80 minutes. In any case, Schultze has privileged the showing of an expres- sionistic world of madness, and he has created such gloomy fun, that the audience didn’t seem to need a conventional Storyline to follow. The Fall of the House of Usher runs until November 5 at the Firehall Arts Centre, 280 E. Cordova St. a A VICIOUS VISIT OF AVARICE DOWNSTAGE by Lynn Mockler Touchstone Theatre’s production of Friedrich Durrenmatt’s tragi-comedy The Visit is like the month long visit of an intelligent, witty, and flamboyant houseguest — welcomed, highly pleasurable, but ulti- mately tiring. What is often a showcase for some very fine acting is eventually marred by some Staging diffi- culties which steal from the performances. The Visit is the story of Claire Zachanassian, an eld- erly millionairess, who returns to the small European hometown she left at the age of 7. The town’s fortunes have sagged in the interim, and there is widespread hope that her old boyfriend, Anton Schill, will persuade her to share her largesse. However, it soon becomes clear that Claire has returned for the purpose of revenge. She offers a huge sum of money, to both the town and its citizens, on the condition that they present her with the corpse of Schill: The play questions social justice and makes a strong statement about power and greed. The production is rich in theatricality. Masks, cre- ated by Melody Anderson, are used for the townspeo- ple and, partly because of the strong physical acting these produce, provide a comic tone. The masks are an interesting choice on the part of director Roy Surette. Durrenmatt insisted that he had “described people, not marionettes, an action and not an allegory”; the masks, on the other hand, do make the characters a little less than human. Still, they fit nicely into this drama in which the playwright specified using actors to repre- sent trees. Nicola Cavendish’s Claire is loud, labile, lascivious, and larger-than-life. Cavendish always commands the Stage with her physical presence and voice; her consid- erable physical acting skills are especially obvious as she moves and sits to indicate an artificial leg. Tom McBeath gives an engaging performance as Schill, mov- ing with ease through a wide emotional range from in- tense fear to complete resignation. Wendy Gorling’s performance of both the mousy school marm and the rotund shopper highlight her remarkable abilities as a physical actress. Simon Webb gives a strong, often comic, physical performance as the bumbling Mayor. The blind witnesses are played by Peter Anderson (also the Priest) and Kim Kondrashoff as a falsetto-voiced Jeff and Akbar, and are always delightful. Nancy Bryant provides exquisite costumes for Claire; her marvelously frothy wedding dress is the pic- . ture of conspicuous overkill. Scenes at the train station demonstrate the excellent collaboration of lighting de- signer Marsha Sibthorpe and sound designer Douglas Macaulay. Pam Johnson’s ingenious set works well ini- tially: building-like structures turn and reconfigurate to present different places in the town. Unfortunately, .. the set contributes to the greatest weakness of this pro- duction. The pacing suffers; the intellectual and emo- tional high points are dropped in the darkness and scurry between scenes. In this 2 1/2 hour production, it often feels like we are watching too much set change; we might have been given the idea of place with fewer props. Nevertheless, The Visit is highly enjoyable and par- ticularly in this age of greed and corporate domination. The Visit plays at the Arts Club Theatre Mainstage until Nov. 26. Tickets are half-price, $12, for students. GLOOMY FUN IN THE HOUSE OF USHER by Marnie MacEwen “One step nearer the light you have genius,” proclaims afrail and melancholic Roderick Usher, “One step nearer the dark you have madness. In between is an undefinable re- gion.” Those of us who can but chose to live in that undefinable region would find the house of Usher to be very dark indeed. And PINK INK's Sandhano Schultze, the director of The Fall of the House of Usher, has given this dark atmosphere a rather stunning realization for the run at the Firehall. Using almost no props and presenting the story on a Shakespear- ean bare stage, Schultze has created a world where darkness, sickness, decay and ennui will only leave the soul long enough to be filled with madness, Or perhaps with a bit of light. For the PINK INK produc- tion of The E is a lighting designer's dream. Lighting effects (provided by Del Surjik) create a moonlit window, on the inside of which we see Roderick (Mike Stack) and Madeline (Kristen Robek) awash in blue, antici- pating the arrival of Roderick’s old friend, At the same time We see the Friend (David Mackay) on the outside of the house looking up at the melancholic brother and sister, rightfully apprehensive as to what awaits him upon entering the house of Usher. Next, a rectangle of pale overhead light fills the stage creating a formal dining table at which Madeline and Roderick Usher and their visiting friend must go through their eating ritual. A similar lighting effect creates the dank and foul smelling crypt in the dungeon of the house into which Madeline will have the most distinct displeasure of being buried alive after a life-long battle with catalepsy. In fact, the opening image of the play is that of Madeline, eyes closed arms crossed over her gothic bodice in the clas- sic’ corpse-in-coffin pose. Perhaps she has died before the play even begins, yet she is standing upright in a very tight spotlight centrestage. A stranger creeps towards her in com- plete silence until he is directly in front of her. Lowering his ear to her heart he listens to see if itis still beating, Madeline's eyes pop open and she lets cry a blood-curdiing scream. Blackout. Before the arrival of the Friend who might relieve them from their efforts of ennui, Roderick and Madeline, appear to us as melancholic music box dancers, in a sort of Beckettian decline. “Decayed but not unstable,” states Roderick. They are doomed to repetitive, slow and rhythmic movements, the orchestration of which was driven by David Rimmer's marvelously melancholic soundscape. The act of turning the Pages of a book or brushing one’s hair takes on monumental effort for the pair. And, after one sexually devouring pas de deux ends in a vampirish bloodletting, one cannot help but wonder if we are witnessing the improvisations of two par- ticularly bored immortals. Schultze, in keeping with Berkhoff’s very presentational style has created a world in which the theatrical possibilities seems endless. Wearing ghostly white make-up and costumed in “excessive antiquity”, the actors’ bodies take us to theatri- cal extremes - always maintaining a balance between com- edy and melodrama. As well, they communicated that self- aware “wink” to the opening night audience as if to say we were all there to be challenged by theatrical forms, For me, Iwas happily transported back about 5 years to PINK INK’s last presentation of Berkhoff’s work with their incredibly successful and innovative production of Greek. Then, as now, they seemed to hit all the right notes. seems the perfect Hal- loween season offering. Complaints have been registered that the production is all effect, all atmosphere; perhaps it may have seemed gimmicky had it gone on for too long, but The runs only about 80 minutes. In any case, Schultze has privileged the showing of an expres- sionistic world of madness, and he has created such gloomy fun, that the audience didn’t seem to need a conventional storyline to follow. runs until November 5 at the Firehall Arts Centre, 280 E. Cordova St. 1G aCRES DOWNSTAGE A VICIOUS VISIT OF AVARICE by Lynn Mockler Touchstone Theatre’s production of Friedrich Durrenmatt’s tragi-comedy The Visit is like the month long visit of an intelligent, witty, and flamboyant houseguest — welcomed, highly pleasurable, but ulti- mately tiring. What is often a showcase for some very fine acting is eventually marred by some staging diffi- culties which steal from the performances. he Visit is the story of Claire Zachanassian, an eld- erly millionairess, who returns to the small European hometown she left at the age of 7. The town’s fortunes have sagged in the interim, and there is widespread hope that her old boyfriend, Anton Schill, will persuade her to share her largesse. However, it soon becomes clear that Claire has returned for the purpose of revenge. She offers a huge sum of money, to both the town and its citizens, on the condition that they present her with the corpse of Schill. The play questions social justice and makes a strong statement about power and greed. The production is rich in theatricality. Masks, cre- ated by Melody Anderson, are used for the townspeo- ple and, partly because of the strong physical acting these produce, provide a comic tone. The masks are an interesting choice on the part of director Roy Surette, Durrenmatt insisted that he had “described people, not marionettes, an action and not an allegory”; the masks, on the other hand, do make the characters a little less than human. Still, they fit nicely into this drama in which the playwright specified using actors to repre- sent trees, Nicola Cavendish’s Claire is loud, labile, lascivious, and larger-than-life. Cavendish always commands the stage with her physical presence and voice; her consid- erable physical acting skills are especially obvious as she moves and sits to indicate an artificial leg. Tom McBeath gives an engaging performance as Schill, mov- ing with ease through a wide emotional range from in- tense fear to complete resignation. Wendy Gorling’s performance of both the mousy school marm and the rotund shopper highlight her remarkable abilities as a physical actress. Simon Webb gives a strong, often comic, physical performance as the bumbling Mayor. The blind witnesses are played by Peter Anderson (also the Priest) and Kim Kondrashoff as a falsetto-voiced Jeff and Akbar, and are always delightful. Nancy Bryant provides exquisite costumes for Claire; her marvelously frothy wedding dress is the pic- ture of conspicuous overkill. Scenes at the train station demonstrate the excellent collaboration of lighting de- signer Marsha Sibthorpe and sound designer Douglas Macaulay. Pam Johnson’s ingenious set works well ini- tially: building-like structures turn and reconfigurate to present different places in the town. Unfortunately, the set contributes to the greatest weakness of this pro- duction. The pacing suffers; the intellectual and emo- tional high points are dropped in the darkness and scurry between scenes. In this 2 1/2 hour production, it often feels like we are watching too much set change; we might have been given the idea of place with fewer props. Nevertheless, The Visit is highly enjoyable and par- ticularly in this age of greed and corporate domination. he Visit plays at the Arts Club Theatre Mainstage until Nov. 26. Tickets are half-price, $12, for students.