REVIEW: Soulpepper’s Tiger Bride bites into a rock-’n’-roll-meets-steampunk aesthetic

Soulpepper Theatre describes its newest show, Tiger Bride, based on an Angela Carter short story, as a “fairy tale with teeth.” More accurate still would be to say it has fangs.

Hailey Gillis, Andrew Penner, and Landon Doak lead the three-hander song cycle, with Gillis and Penner also serving as co-adaptors of Carter’s story (alongside director and frequent collaborator Frank Cox-O’Connell). The world premiere’s original music lives somewhere between rock and electronica, performed with a raspiness that lends itself perfectly to the show’s moody tone. 

This gritty reimagining of “Beauty and the Beast” dares to ask difficult questions and follows Carter’s lead in flipping the fairy tale on its head. What would happen if the Beast were the force behind the protagonist’s physical imprisonment yet the key to her mental freedom? What if her initial form of imprisonment was something intangible, like the weight of a father’s transgressions, or grieving a deceased mother?

The show begins with a song called “Luxury,” acclimatizing the audience to what will be a heady, sometimes-incongruent fusion of electronic beats and haunting melodies. Gillis and Penner’s voices intertwine bewitchingly as they describe their characters’ story; they play a father-daughter duo (Father and Girl, respectively) down on their luck as a result of the former’s alcoholism and gambling addiction. When they are invited by their innkeeper to a game of cards with the indomitable Beast, Father cannot resist betting (and losing) everything he has — including Girl herself. 

Beast and his Valet (Penner, who doubles as the innkeeper) bring Girl to his eerie, dilapidated mansion: an intricate maze of miscellanea and discarded instruments designed by Shannon Lea Doyle. Beast’s one demand for Girl is to see her fully unclothed, upon which he promises to release her. Although she balks at first, the second act sees her reflect through song on her relationship to her identity, autonomy, and sensuality, culminating in a physical and cerebral transformation that leaves her utterly changed. 

The theatrical concert’s commitment to its mix of steampunk and rock-n’-roll aesthetic is one of its strengths. Doyle’s set design is an absolute joy to see. A behemoth central box structure that acts as a pool table in one scene swivels throughout a pivotal game of cards, while a vanity resting behind a piano acts as both mirror and exit point for Girl as she strums her guitar. The performers take full advantage of every bit of the stage, jumping on top of props at will. The interaction between actor and set piece is a fascinating nod to the significance of the enchanted furniture in Disney’s animated Beauty and the Beast (1991). While the furniture in Tiger Bride isn’t enchanted, the animatronic doll that makes a terrifying cameo sure seems to be! 

Gillis, Penner, and Doak make a formidable, playful trio. All three demonstrate control and dexterity of their bodies and voices; each performance is juiced with an energy and liveliness that never drops. 

Doak, in particular, plays Valet with a roguishness à la Puck from A Midsummer Night’s Dream — a refreshing comedic relief from the show’s larger, darker themes. 

Although the premise of Girl on the verge of self-actualization is enticing, and one that the trio approaches with clear, affecting lyrics, Tiger Bride stops short of fully embracing the messiness of her metamorphosis. The show is beautiful and rugged, but feels somewhat motionless, lingering on certain emotional beats rather than pushing its characters into more revealing territory. The 80-minute runtime drags instead of flying because so much of it is devoted to Girl’s emotional state while imprisoned in Beast’s mansion; the story would benefit from more time spent probing her evolution from obedient daughter to autonomous, confident woman. The finer details of the production shine (lighting designer Frank Donato’s intuitive warm and cool spotlights and shadow play, for example), but the script leaves key motivations underexplored, particularly the catalyst behind Girl’s transformation and Beast’s presumably terrifying backstory. 

Although Tiger Bride isn’t something I would typically attend as someone who seldom listens to rock, the show is kaleidoscopic, and its pulsing energy is hard to resist. While I think the adaptors could have interrogated and deepened the narrative even further, the show’s stunning visual-sonic palette and performances combine for an explosive tale of desire, agency, and power.

Tiger Bride runs at the Young Centre for the Performing Arts until June 21. More information is available here.

Intermission reviews are independent and unrelated to Intermission’s partnered content. Learn more about Intermission’s partnership model here.

WRITTEN BY

Abi Akinlade

Abi is a Nigerian-Canadian multidisciplinary artist based in Toronto. She holds a Bachelor of Arts degree in English Literature and Drama from the University of Toronto. Represented by AMI Talent Agency, she has performed in both film and theatre productions. She is currently a cohort member of the inaugural theatre criticism program Page Turn, as well as a journalism fellow at Inkspire. Driven by a strong passion for theatre, literature, and film, she aims to use storytelling as a means to uncover a deeper sense of identity and foster meaningful connection.

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