Reviews: A spectacular Spring Awakening, a subtle Pre-Existing Condition, and more

More than 130 years after it was written, Frank Wedekind’s Spring Awakening (Rating: ✭✭✭✭✭) still has the power to shock.

The expressionist, prophetic German drama — best known these days as a 2006 musical(*) — deals headlong with the consequences of societal repression, especially around the issue of teen sexuality. (This production should tour to Danielle Smith’s Alberta or states where it’s currently illegal to have abortions.)

(*) The musical’s composer Duncan Sheik died earlier this week at the tragically young age of 56. He was set to premiere his latest musical, Memoirs of Amorous Gentlemen, this month Off-Broadway, as well as a revival of Spring Awakening later this fall.

Its revelatory new staging is important for several reasons. I believe it’s the first professional mounting of the work since 1986’s CentreStage production, which has become a Toronto theatre legend (I wish I had seen it). Directed by Paolo Santalucia, it’s the first offering in his inaugural season as Soulpepper’s artistic director. And it introduces a bunch of fresh young artists, five of whom are members of the company’s Academy.

This last point might be a reason why it has never been staged by the company before. Although adult authority figures of various kinds appear on the periphery — and are played by Soulpepper veterans Diego Matamoros, Liisa Repo-Martell, Raquel Duffy and Daren A. Herbert — the protagonists are all teens and ought to be played by believably young actors.

In Santalucia’s new adaptation, teens suffer through the militaristic instruction of teachers like Matamoros’ Professor Knochenbrüch, whose approach to education and discipline is as brutal as his name suggests.

At home, the 15-year-old Wendla (Olivia Neary-Hatton), after being told by her mother (Repo-Martell) that the stork just visited Wendla’s older sister Ina (Raylene Harewood), asks where babies really come from, and her mother avoids the topic.

Meanwhile, in his attic room, Melchior (Jake Bunyan) philosophizes about life and religion (he’s an atheist) and has written a detailed essay — complete with illustrations — for his friend Moritz (Jake Cohen), whose adolescent angst adds even more complications to his stressful life.

After setting up the situation and characters in the first act — which, to be fair, rambles a bit — Santalucia gets to the heart of the story in the second act, where Wedekind illustrates the repercussions of such restrictive behaviour. The tragic third act hits like a sledgehammer, the only bright spot the burgeoning love between two students.

Santalucia’s adaptation is clear and persuasive, and he gets spontaneous, passionate work from the young actors, particularly Bunyan and Cohen, whose connection gives the play’s devastating final moments extra poignancy.

Academy member Jasmine Case is striking as Martha, a student with a crush on Moritz, while Anaka Maharaj-Sandhu exudes warmth and compassion as Ilse, an outsider figure who’s found a sense of community outside the town with a group of artists. Noah Beemer adds some much-needed comic relief in several scenes, one of which might change your idea of Shakespeare studies for good.

Of the older actors, Matamoros and Herbert bring the requisite stony authoritarianism to their firm disciplinarians (Hebert plays the headmaster and a physician), while Repo-Martell and Duffy are more ambiguous as Fraus Bergman and Gabor, the latter of whom has a connection with Moritz but ignores his pleas for help.

Shannon Lea Doyle’s scenie design is set against the stark brick wall of the Baillie Theatre, with a bit of green rolling hill and a solitary young tree evoking a bit of life. Domestic interiors are suggested with the addition of a drab wall, and an opening on the stage is used to suggest stairs to Melchior’s attic but also something else in the final scene.

The other design elements — Ming Wong’s costumes and Kevin Lamotte’s lighting — are excellent, but special mention should go to Thomas Ryder Payne’s sound design, which is filled with sinister stings and moody echoes that capture the play’s most disturbing moments.

While you’re at the theatre, be sure to pick up a physical theatre program. I’m not sure if it’s because of Santalucia, but the layout and content have been completely overhauled. The second page is devoted to the Soulpepper company — including separate sections for performers, playwrights, specific designers and stage management, among others — and later there are rehearsal photos, as well as context notes from designers and a cast member.

I absolutely love this change. If I had been a young person new to theatre, picking up something like this would open up a world of possibilities to me, informing me about the play and letting me and others know how a production comes together. (There are two 10-minute intermissions, so lots of opportunity to dig into it.)

Spring Awakening is the kind of uncompromising, frank production that ought to bring in lots of young people eager for ways of storytelling that are longer than three-minute reels.

Spring Awakening continues at the Young Centre’s Baillie Theatre (50 Tank House Lane) until Oct. 4. Ticket details here

Conditional love

The intimate Coal Mine Theatre is the perfect venue for a specific kind of play — namely, one in which you need to see and hear the micro expressions of the characters without straining your neck.

Marin Ireland’s subtle Pre-Existing Condition (Rating: ✭✭✭), a multi-dimensional study of a woman named “A” (Amy Rutherford) who’s recovering from intimate partner violence, fits the bill nicely.

“A” has lots of pent-up feelings as she deals with leaving the abusive relationship. She looks to the law for some recourse; she attends group therapy sessions; friends give her advice; perhaps prematurely, she begins dating; and so on.

By not presenting “A”’s story in a traditional or chronological way, Ireland (and director Linda Kash) force us to put the pieces of her life together as we witness “A” in significant moments. It’s a big ask, and it doesn’t amount to the most profound conclusion, but it is filled with lots of compelling details along the way.

I particularly liked the way in which “C” (Diana Bentley) stands in for various people who mean well but can’t help but come across as insensitive, especially as the friend who ends up talking mostly about herself. And as various men (plus “A”’s mother), “D” (Philip Riccio) allows us to glimpse the way “A” is gradually getting more comfortable with herself and the possibility of moving on with her life. Lindsay Leese brings warmth and directness to “B,” who mostly represents a therapist figure.

It’s hard not to compare this play with the more artfully written and watchable play People, Places and Things, presented by Coal Mine last season. I get the feeling that Ireland — an actor and writer who has experienced intimate partner violence herself — is holding back from giving us a larger, more direct and perhaps messier canvas.

During the middle of the play, I felt like I was part of a group therapy session, wanting to ask, “What are you trying to say?”

What’s remarkable is how Rutherford’s “A” subtly changes and gains the strength to confront us — and her past — in a scene that dispenses with those other letters. That spells out something quiet but triumphant.

Pre-Existing Condition continues at the Coal Mine Theatre (2076 Danforth Ave.) until Oct. 1. Ticket details here

A space apart

You’ve got to give playwright Amy Berryman full marks for ambition. Her 2021 play Walden (Rating: ✭✭) is set in the near future, when the Earth is even more ravaged and destroyed than it is now, and two estranged sisters reunite at a cabin that brings to mind Thoreau’s signature book.

Stella (Emily Anne Corcoran) is living with her boyfriend Bryan (Oshen Aoun), a self-professed “Earth advocate” somewhere remote. Her sister Cassie (Charlotte Dennis) has just returned from a mission to the moon, where she’s become the first scientist to grow something on the lunar surface, and she’s prepping for another trip — this time to Mars.

Stella is nervous about her sister’s visit and doesn’t want to reveal the fact that she and Bryan are engaged. Why? Perhaps it has something to do with their parents — their father was an astronaut — or with Stella’s connection to NASA, both of which will kind of be revealed in Berryman’s rather cryptic and thorny play.

I say “kind of” because I wasn’t quite sure of Berryman’s point. Is she using space as a metaphor for the sheer difficulty of communication? (In space, no one can hear you cry.) Or is she just really, really interested in how people will survive as all our natural resources burn up?

Under director Erik Richards, the actors certainly seem committed to their lines, navigating the various levels of the set (also by Richards) with sureness. Corcoran is especially good at suggesting unspoken reasons for Stella’s anxiety.

But despite the intriguing setting, plus the fact that Icarus Theatre is a bold indie theatre company, the play never quite launched for me.

Walden continues at the Theatre Centre’s BMO Incubator (1115 Queen West) until Sep. 26. Ticket details here