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Big Stuff, created and performed by married comedy duo Matt Baram and Naomi Snieckus, dives deep into the world of junk.Dahlia Katz/Crow’s Theatre

Title: Big Stuff

Written and performed by: Matt Baram and Naomi Snieckus

Directed and co-created by: Kat Sandler

Production & Venue: A Baram and Snieckus production in association with Crow’s Theatre

City: Toronto

Year: Runs to Dec. 8


Critic’s Pick


Minimalism. It’s one of those trends that cycles around every few years, fuelled by perky social-media campaigns and self-help books about clutter. In the mid-2010s, professional organizer Marie Kondo took the world by storm with her oh-so-quotable approach to downsizing: If an object didn’t “spark joy,” she posited, it was time to send said item to greener pastures (or, more likely, the landfill).

Big Stuff, created and performed by married comedy duo Matt Baram and Naomi Snieckus, dives deep into the world of junk, and asks us to consider just how much our belongings might matter to us. The wonderful new show, playing in Crow’s Theatre’s intimate studio space until Dec. 8, is a can’t-miss celebration of the objects we hold dear, and a poignant meditation on how our accumulated flotsam can connect us to the people we adore most in the world.

When audiences arrive at the theatre, they’re given a small card and asked to write down a possession that reminds them of someone they love. Those cards will become important later, when Baram and Snieckus ask a few audience members to share the significance of their chosen objects: Who gave you that clock? What sort of thread did your mother use to mend your decapitated teddy bear? What genre of music did your aunt keep in her collection of vinyl records?

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Together with director Kat Sandler, Baram and Snieckus have constructed a show that smartly combines pre-rehearsed storytelling with improvised banter.Dahlia Katz/Crow’s Theatre

The comedians’ questions are thought-provoking and rooted in kindness. Even the most participation-averse audience members seemed to feel comfortable sharing their stories at the show I attended.

No two performances of Big Stuff will be the same. Together with director Kat Sandler, Baram and Snieckus have constructed a show that smartly combines pre-rehearsed storytelling with improvised banter. Throughout the performance, the lines between playwriting and off-the-cuff confessional blur, making it feel almost as if you’re watching through the cozy haze of a Christmas tree, surrounded by family and friends.

The scripted portions are sentimental and succinct: Baram and Snieckus recall the broad strokes of their relationship, from their illicit meet-cute at the Second City to their eventual marriage and life as a pair of comedians. Work often forces them to move between Canada and Los Angeles, and more than once they have the argument: What should they do with their stuff?

Snieckus argues that objects hold meaning: that, yes, she really does need six toasters, and her crochet hook, and her stuffed bunny. Baram is more pragmatic: Why do we need physical keepsakes of our loved ones, when we’ll always have the memories? And, seriously, why would anyone need six toasters?

Quickly, teams emerge as Baram and Snieckus turn to the audience for advice: Who’s right? The collectors, or the minimalists? As you might be able to guess, there’s no simple answer to that question, and the problem becomes even more complicated when, for instance, a family member passes away.

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Michelle Tracey’s set, a castle of cardboard boxes, forms a perfect backdrop for Baram and Snieckus’s sweet story, with plenty of hidden compartments for treasures.Dahlia Katz/Crow’s Theatre

The final notes of Big Stuff might feel cloying or overly earnest in the wrong hands, but Baram, Snieckus and Sandler are a terrific trio of writerly talent who understand exactly how to use audience participation to enhance, rather than distract from, the lovely storytelling happening onstage.

Michelle Tracey’s set, a castle of cardboard boxes, forms a perfect backdrop for Baram and Snieckus’s sweet story, with plenty of hidden compartments for treasures. When the written cards from the top of the show emerge as part of that whimsical backdrop, it’s hard not to cry.

(And indeed, Tim Lindsay’s modest sound design seems to anticipate sniffles, particularly during a stunning final requiem for the people the audience has lost.)

Between Big Stuff and The Bidding War, there’s a lot happening at Crow’s Theatre this month. While The Bidding War might be the more ambitious affair, with its 11-person cast and sprawling physical comedy, Big Stuff is one of those pieces of theatre you’ll carry with you for the rest of your life.

No need to declutter this one – if all is right in this world, Big Stuff will become a precious heirloom of Canadian theatre.

In the interest of consistency across all critics’ reviews, The Globe has eliminated its star-rating system in film and theatre to align with coverage of music, books, visual arts and dance. Instead, works of excellence will be noted with a critic’s pick designation across all coverage. (Television reviews, typically based on an incomplete season, are exempt.)

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