The Toronto Theatre Review: Tarragon’s After the Rain
By Ross
As I was taking in the musical mastery of After the Rain, a world premiere musical from Tarragon Theatre and The Musical Stage Company, I couldn’t help but think I had heard this story before, mainly because of how touching and honest the attachments that grow and expand within it feel. And then it dawned on me. I had seen this story before, but in a less formalized manner at The Canadian Festival of New Musicals last May, when it was presented in a much shorter, less staged format. It was hard to forget. It had a compelling, dynamic book, written by Rose Napoli (Mad Madge), that never left my musical memory, staying lodged inside, mainly because of its honest power and connectability. And now, as presented in a two-sided structure at the Tarragon Theatre in Toronto, the energy of its inner spirit soars, both. musically and emotionally, especially with the wild and captivating music and lyrics by Suzy Wilde (The Carrette Sisters) brought to vivid life by this talented crew of actors and musicians.
Directed with a full-throttle energy by Marie Farsi (Crow’s Fifteen Dogs) with strong and forceful musical direction by Rachel O’Brien (Musical Stage/Crow’s Natasha, Pierre…), After the Rain storms the stage with its musical power and driving sound. Bookended by audience members in a setup that I’ve never seen at the Tarragon, designed solidly by David Boechler (Studio 180’s Clybourne Park) with meticulous lighting by Logan Raju Cracknell (Studio 180’s Four Minutes Twelve Seconds) and sound by Brian Kenny (Soulpepper’s A Strange Loop), applause leads us into the fray, “way up over the mountain” in delicious harmony by this five (plus two shadow musicians on the side) piece rock band. I’m not quite sure that the musical sandwiched between audience members completely served the delivery of the rocking concert format (I continue to be torn on that matter). Still, it certainly made us feel part of their family unit, and those magnificent actors certainly found their “Uka baby” connections to us throughout, beautifully, honestly, and hilariously.
“Give it up for my family,” our heroine, Suzie, played dynamically by the very gifted and engaging Annika Tupper (The Maker’s An Incomplete List of All the Things…), cries, giving us a clear window into what her world is centered around; her parents and their famous stance, “Canadian famous,” she corrects herself, which speaks volumes of all that she is engaged with. Her parents, the dynamic Jean Stone and Ashley Evans, played magnificently by Deborah Hay (Stratford’s London Assurance) and Andrew Penner (Crow’s The Shape of Home…), have created a world of rythym and rock music complexities, etched in the detailed and delicious sounds made famous by the song writings of her rock star parents and their eclectic and endearing band members: drummer JD Kunkel, portrayed adorably by Joe (Jojo) Bowden (Soulpepper’s The Big Easy), and guitarist Mickey Mintz, played winningly by Brandon McGibbon (Tarragon’s Hamlet), each side stepping the difficult situations expertly and wisely.
Her parents have taught her everything they think she needs to know about music, and it clearly lives within her, running clairvoyantly through her blood. She seems to live and breathe creative musicality. But she also has a soreness that hangs silently on the edges of her mind, feeling a bit trapped within and lost, yet radiating with a subtle determination. Being the son of a jazz musician myself, and not really having that same kind of talent naturally within, I’ve always been fascinated by how music is born and nurtured. It’s a mystery that always amazes me, when someone can reach into the abyss and pull forth notes and lyrics seemingly out of the blue, and formulate it all into something so profound that it can enter our collective soul and shift our emotional state. It truly is magical that someone can do that. Yet, listening and watching these characters coax creativity out of each other is an astonishing act of knowing and feeling. “I’m killing this,” she states, unpacking an idea that a song is a mystery, needing clues to spring up from the puddles and infuse it into something that can be written down before it disappears into that same abyss.
We hang with her, happily, as she distracts herself with a stupid boyfriend, a few shared joints backed by some well-played beau-songs, and a messy way of hiding from the possibilities that are itching inside her, waiting to be developed. She engages, sometimes directly with the crowd in ways that light up the stage, trying to help her parents create, even when they ignore her suggestions to “try smaller.” (PS: she’s usually right.) But when she is casually nudged by her father, in need of a new tattoo, to take on a mature piano student, Donna D’Angelo, also beautifully embodied by Hay, and teach her, not exactly how to play the piano, but how to master one particular song, Erik Satie’s simple, yet complex “Gymnopedie No. 1”, and one song only, in a limited amount of time for a very specific reason. It’s the perfect song for this lovely woman and her situation (click on the link to hear it as you read the rest of this glowing review), and it’s also here in the home of Donna, where After the Rain truly finds its heart, virtuosity, and utterly beautiful simplicity.
In quick shifts of tone and poise, assisted gently by the superb costuming of Ming Wong (Nightwood‘s Shedding a Skin), Hay’s Donna connects with our heroine, Suzie, in ways that, it seems, no one has. Donna sees her differently. She notes what is missing inside her soul, and, with all the kindness in the world, she does what she can to both gently point it out and to help her find her path. She’s like no one else Suzie has come across, with a very different maternal energy that leaves Suzie somewhat helpless in her presence to ignore or step around. It’s also where Suzie comes into contact with her young son, Julian, played to perfection by Sheamus Swets (Theatre Sheridan’s Jesus Christ Superstar). When he slumps into her sightlines and makes the most endearing Beatles comment to Suzie, we can’t help but see how he leans into her almost so much that it feels he might fall over into her soul. Their connection is not in the typical or expected manner centered around sexual attraction, but something much deeper and far more engaging than all that simple physicality. Their ties are uniquely centered around a type of mutual respect and understated understanding, laced with the sad and devastating truth about Donna and her ambitious task that she has given herself.
After the Rain takes us on a loose, beautiful journey, based on a true story about the healing power of music and the creation of our sense of self. The music is by no means “Background Music” to what transpires most powerfully and musically before us. We see the deeply felt beauty of difficult connections played out in song, particularly when the mother/daughter duet is performed face-to-face across the great divide of two pianos and a stage, telling us so much about these two that it’s almost too difficult to take in. “The sun will rise” for our Suzie, with whom we have become completely invested in, especially in her desire for personal expansion and loving autonomy. We give ourselves over to her, the wonder that is After the Rain, and the captivating framing that came from the direct quote listed in the program, altered within for dramatic purposes. It is from Don Henley of The Eagles in reference to his Heart of the Matter, who said, “It took me forty-two years to write this song and five minutes to sing it.”
That quote is lovingly revamped and reused with this wonderfully honest and personal musical, which rides in, through numerous puddles, on a wave of optimism gifted from outside the centrifugal force that emanates from the dynamic and complicated Stone family band. The cast owns this two-sided stage, moving around the space as expertly as they move around our heart. The inconvenience and distraction of an email ping is not to be ignored in After the Rain. It’s the thing that steps this production forward and allows Suzie, our wondrous narrator, to find her song and move forward, thanks to a caring piano student and a brave sound mixer called forth to push the button. Nor can we ignore the final number performed with more personal engagement than we were ready for. The whole piece reminds me of a more family-centered Stereophonic, the Broadway play that stormed the stage last season. But with a different historic framing and sound. After the Rain, as produced by both Tarragon Theatre and The Musical Stage Company, is unforgettably touching and magically engaging. And like most musical concerts of our favourite “Canadian famous” bands, it should be seen live and in person to truly feel the beating heart-to-heart connection.
Now playing on Tarragon Theatre’s Mainspace May 27 – June 22, 2025. Click here for more information and tickets.
