The Canadian Theatre Review: Grand Theatre’s Pride and Prejudice
By Ross
With the brick wall at the back of the gorgeous Grand Theatre laid bare, adorned with numerous cloaks and chairs, they gather together in that communal safe space behind the raised central platform, before whistling them into a blindfold festivity worthy of our unbridled attention and captive engagement. It’s quite the dance musical interlude, overrun with giggles and stretched out party arms, looking for loving recognition and merrymaking connection. This definitely isn’t your straightforward telling of Jane Austen’s classic, “Pride and Prejudice“, the 1813 “novel of manners“, but more of a screwball adaptation, written most brilliantly by the immensely talented and seriously smart playwright, Kate Hamill. And this isn’t her first joy ride in this madcap reworking rodeo, as it was her wildly successful production of the other Jane Austen classic, Sense and Sensibility, which brought me under her spell many years back off-Broadway. And I’ve never looked back.
Produced most generously and gloriously by the Grand Theatre in London, Ontario (my hometown regional theatre), this witty and wise Pride and Prejudice adaptation is as silly and pleasurable as I remembered it to be, playfully directed with spirit by Rebecca Northan (Spontaneous’s Goblins: Macbeth) and choreographed with cute care by Krista Leis (Capital’s Snow White: The Panto). Remaining fairly true to both Austen and Hamill’s fine formula, the serious game of love and marriage remains at the heart of this blindingly joyous ride, with Hamill setting her sharply hilarious sights on Austen’s heroine, Lizzy, and the wanna-be wily Bennet family shenanigans. It’s sharply defined in the most sweet and silly manner, squeezing our collective romantic heart in the most touching of ways as we laugh, love, and embrace all of these wonderfully crafted characters as they search for that one true love of the lives, even if they don’t realize they are playing the game at the time.
“I know myself, Jane. I won’t marry,” states the confident, young, willful Lizzy, played to perfection by Beck Lloyd (H+B’s Measure For Measure), before getting her own brand of “hot punch” as ‘Pride’ and ‘Vanity’ are beautifully explained quite clearly by a frightfully fun creation from a different genre altogether. Lizzy steals our heart and attention almost from the get-go, as the inventive opening slow-motion captures the ridiculousness and very timely and telling story of romantic ideals of love and connection. Lizzy is the wondrous daughter in a family who sees a possible problematic future for them all, based only on gender and not on guile. Regardless of this familial predicament, she continues her willful fight with both tooth and nail to stay clear of marriage and the game of love. She refuses wholeheartedly to take part in the ridiculous and foolish charade of match-seeking like her sisters are want to do, and like her mother, the determined Mrs. Bennet tries to school them in the shrewd game of wins and losses with their future all at the mercy of these men.
It’s clear, as told by the forceful and fierce Kate Hennig (Shaw’s Gypsy), who hilariously portrays the exasperated, yet insistant Mrs. Bennet (& the wiggly-nosed servant), that one must follow some pretty abstract rules to make a man fall in love with them. I’m not so sure she knows the rules as well as she pretends to, but it does motivate the oldest Bennet girl, the lovely Jane (& Ms. De Bourgh), portrayed by Raechel Fisher (Hart House’s Oh, What a Lovely War!), to dance her way into this unlucky game of love and marriage, without much solid guidance to hold on to. And Lizzy, well, she stands in the background, defiant, yet empathetic, watching but not waiting to be swept off her muddy feet. The other two Bennet daughters, the young rambunctious Lydia (& Lady Catherine), portrayed bubbly and pure by Lior Maharjan (Scapegoat Carnivale’s Ricki), and the frightfully fierce Mary (& Mr. Bingley), deliciously portrayed by Sarah Wilson (Soulpepper’s Of Human Bondage), find pleasure and pain in the sidelines, locking in on how the game is played, but not yet being allowed their own turn at rolling that damning dice.
The men they come into contact with are a motley crew of misfits and mischiefs, with a number of them (extremely well) played by Carmen Grant (Soulpepper’s Doc), who gloriously takes on the roles of three very different and perfectly unique characters; Mr. Collins, Mr. Wickham, and a wonderfully crafted Ms Bingley. But it’s really about the prideful Dr. Darcy, embodied dynamically solid by the wonderful Eric Craig (Eclipse’s Sunday in the Park…), who captures our attention and the attention of Lizzy, whether she will admit it or not. The pair is so well matched and their point of view so solidly established and crafted in this wonderful entertainment that even when the two are being absolutely silly and absurd against one another, the emotionality of these destined-to-be lovers is pure, believable, and accessible to all.
As the tables keep turning on them all and their chaotic engagements, beautifully held together by this delightful cast playing the game solidly on a lovely playing field designed distinctly by Brandon Kleiman (Stratford’s La Cage Aux Folles), with exacting lighting by Sophie Tang (Stratford/NAC’s Salesman in China), and a clever sound designer/composer Maddie Bautista (Tarragon’s CRAZE), The whole cast dons numerous hats, dressing gowns, and jackets, heroically designed by the astounding Joanna Yu (Soulpepper/Obsidian’s Three Sisters) as they unknowingly seek to learn about the repercussions of hasty judgments that come from prideful stances, and slowly become able to appreciate the difference between superficial goodness and actual goodness.. The actors all play so well with one another, portraying an assortment of characters with such solid definition that it is surprising when all is said and done to realize the same person is actually playing all these different parts.
One of my favorites, beyond Wilson, who does an excellent puppy dog Bingley as well as the scary-faced, sad piano-playing Mary, is the incredible Grant, who has the quick change ability to bounce onto the stage time and time again in a variety of different guises that astound. It’s truly a master class in creation, much like Andrew Moodie (Stratford’s Macbeth) as he dutifully portrays the wonderfully calm and centered Mr. Bennet with a wise wit and charming ease, but also finds a way to uncover the unique character of Charlotte Lewis. In a way, many of us, including the man sitting behind me (who might need a lesson in using his inside voice), needed to see that upfront refitting of the actor for them to actually become aware of the duality of this fine performance. It is a great reworking, much like the classic story being told here at the Grand Theatre in London.
I don’t believe I’m doing the cast justice, though, as what they accomplish with such a look of ease and play is quite the feat. One of the joys of this production is that even when the madness gets almost a bit too frantic, the whole cast seems to be having as much fun as we are. Maybe more. It’s a pure joy to join in with them and their smiles and laughter. This is not just about playing with a female-centric period piece classic, though. It is also, within the same wild stroke of Hamill’s pen, a challenge for us to look at women’s roles in theatre and society and demand for more. More balance, more focus, and well, just plain more of whatever Hamill has in store for us in the future. This isn’t only about marriage but of Hamill creating space and work for women (and men). It doesn’t hurt that this go round into Austen’s Pride and Prejudice by the Grand Theatre is a pure theatrical delight; a playful, smart romp through the English Austen countryside, playing a gloriously constructed game that ends with a joyful, long kiss of love and acknowledgement. Do yourself a favor, and join them all in the parlour game of love and marriage, you won’t regret it.
