Reliable Laughs

Mrs. Parliament's Night Out
by Norm Foster
directed by Mark Mooney
Presented by Theatre Woodstock

It's not hard to understand just why Norm Foster has become the most phenomenally successful playwright in Canadian theatrical history.  His name on a theatre poster is almost a foolproof guarantee of some good laughs.  He creates memorable characters and juxtaposes them in intriguing situations.  His characters are endearingly familiar to us, yet endlessly varied.  He's not afraid to grapple with difficult situations in life, and his plays almost always seem to have one or two people in them whose stories do not end happily.

From the foregoing, it will be obvious to anyone not already familiar with his work that his plays are full of popular elements, yet resist easy classification.

This particular play can perhaps best be described as a homely comedic riff on the themes of Shirley Valentine.

Mrs. Parliament's Night Out is a fairly recent addition to the Foster canon, having been first staged in 2012.  And I have to say it bluntly: I don't think it's one of his best.  The complex situational comedy of Act 2 can be seen coming a mile away -- in fact, I guessed two plot twists that were going to happen in Act 2 well before they took place.  The performer taking the role of the title character is forced by the script into an unending one-note samba of nervous mannerisms.  A number of characters flirt with the edge of becoming merely stereotypes, and several actually tumble headlong right over that edge. 

The name of the title character seems to set you up for some sort of hidden political message, but if there was one concealed there it remained hidden from my view.  If there's no such message, then why such a choice of a name with very definite layers of meaning permanently attached to it?

Compared to other plays by Foster, this one is unusual in demanding rapid shifts of location at frequent intervals.  I didn't keep count, but there must be several dozen distinct scene shifts during the show, and this requires special attention from all involved in the production.

Director Mark Mooney also designed his own set, and it was both simple and useful in dealing with a multi-scene script like this one.  The stage was set as a box of blacks, with three standing light boxes across the back.  The lights inside these boxes could vary in colour.  Characters could enter and exit from the sides or around the light boxes.  The actors moved simple furniture (such as lightweight patio furniture) on, off, and around the stage.  The one really big mobile set piece was a grocery store produce counter, mounted on wheels to be rolled on and off stage.  The lighting design of Rob Coles worked very effectively to set moods and times for all of the many scenes.  With the help of this simple but versatile design, all parts of the stage were used from time to time.

At the centre of the cast is Elizabeth Durand, in the key role of Teresa Parliament.  Durand captured perfectly the nagging sense of life-passing-me-by in the early scenes, and flung herself with equal abandon into her many new adventures.  The nervousness was well played, and when it did become tiresome that wasn't really Durand's fault (see above).  I particularly enjoyed the way she finally allowed herself to blossom in the long closing scene, making believable what the script (I felt) presented rather lamely.

Don Connolly as her husband Chuck was an equally convincing portrait of a type of man that can be found everywhere.  His single-minded self-absorption was as believable as his desperate flailing about for some solution when he realizes that he's going to lose his wife.

John Hammond gave a warm-hearted portrayal of Steve Blackburn, the man who manages to capture Teresa's attention by giving her true attention first.  With numerous subtle touches of voice and face and gesture, he gave life to his character in an understated but totally effective manner.

Acting as a kind of Greek chorus, outside this triangle but commenting on it, are next door neighbour Carl Lewicki and grocer Alonzo Marx.  Paul Blower's presentation of Carl managed at first to avoid the stereotypical Jewish nosy neighbour that lies waiting in the script, but by the last act he was beginning to sound like any number of Jewish stand-up comics I'd heard when I was young.  In spite of that, he gave a sympathetic portrait of a very lonely man.

David Butcher as the grocer provoked uproarious laughter, talking most believably to invisible customers between his all-important chats with Teresa -- a prize comic role indeed. 

Around these five key personalities appear a whole range of others, many of whom appear for less than a minute: sales clerks, coaches, teachers, drug addicts, wine tasters, a boxer, and the list goes on and on.  There are 15 of these side characters altogether, divided between five different actors.  Kudos to all five -- Vanessa Giulano, Kim Serendiak, Fern Tepperman, Brian Moore, and Eric Terry -- for bringing these wildly varied little comic vignettes to brilliant life.

These short little comical scenes, by the way, are really difficult to bring off in a stage play because of the frequent pauses for changing locations.  Under Mooney's direction, these scene changes were handled very quickly without seeming rushed, so the pace never had time to flag.  Similarly, pacing within scenes was nicely varied without ever becoming lie-down-and-die slow.

Take it all by and large, I found Mrs. Parliament's Night Out to be very well staged, very well acted, and mildly to moderately amusing.  What I missed was the strong sense of humane empathy which I have found in full measure in many of Foster's better plays.