Nightwood Theatre in association with Tarragon Theatre/ Enormity, Girl, and the Earthquake in her Lungsby Chelsea Woolley, directed by Andrea Donaldson, Nancy and Ed Jackman Performance Centre, closes Oct. 5.
Enormity, Girl, and the Earthquake in her Lungs
Photo by Dahlia Katz
The lights came up on the stage to reveal a room with an institutional look. Beside the bed was a young woman clearly in distress (Vivien Endicott-Douglas) and when she began to speak it was in fragments. She was clearly trying to get a grip on herself and her situation.
And I found myself mentally groaning, “Oh God, am I in for another endless monologue about the how and the why and the where and the who and the when and the what. Searching, searching, searching. Never complete sentences. Always in halting phrases.”
Then, just as I was settling in for the inevitable, there was a rush of movement, five actors leaped into the room, and so began the reign of chaos. That surprise certainly caught my attention, and what I thought was going to be a dreary, same old, angst-filled monologue turned into a compelling presentation of dissociative behavior.
According to playwright Woolley, the wellspring for the play began with idea of a woman who was experiencing a massive trauma that started to leak out. This led her to explore, in her words, “what happens when you split apart in order to survive, and those splits start talking back”.
While the voices don’t have names, the young woman at the heart of the matter is called Vic, short for victim I presume.
Vic’s coterie of voices become quite distinct over time. They present an ever-shifting dynamic flow, one minute allies, the next enemies. Allegiances between them shift in the blink of an eye, but clearly each has her own agenda, with the majority harmful to Vic’s well-being. That is one of the fascinations about the byplay between the voices, that some represent negative forces.
It must be noted that the exchanges, even the confrontations between the voices, do contain humour, some of it on the noir side, perhaps even approaching Theatre of the Absurd. Despite the seriousness of the situation, this is not a play devoid of moments of levity. The playwright is on record as saying that humour is a way to build trust with the audience, that laughter gives the audience space to breathe when the play deals with something emotionally difficult.
Their main goal however is to be the main controller of Vic who has literally just arrived at the shelter and it’s important to note that she brought herself there. Vic’s been given a room and has been told to change her clothes, make the bed and then come out to begin the intake process.
Only one of the voices (Liz Der) believes that that is exactly what she should do and Der’s mission is to convince Vic to do what is best for her. Throughout the play she is a one-man band pleading for sanity against an overwhelming tide of opposing opinions. To her credit Der never loses her focus and in fact becomes increasingly more devoted to her cause, almost desperate in fact, as the play progresses.
The worst example of the devious, two-faced voice is Philippa Domville, all sweetness and light, all the best of suburban motherhood, but whose airy-fairy superficial patina hides a savage vicious streak. Domville practically dances the role to prove her cloudless climes, almost suffocating Vic with saccharine affection. She is also very good at pushing herself at Vic before the others.
The voice of Sophia Rodriguez is all negativity. She keeps sounding alarm bells. If Vic goes out the door all sorts of terrible things will happen. Does she really want to cope with the police over her trauma? Get people arrested? Cause trouble for herself and others? As long as she’s in the shelter there’s a danger that all this can happen. She must get herself out of the shelter. Rodriguez’s voice probably has the least to say in that room but is more lethal in the saying.
Then there is the voice that is more opaque and not as well defined as the others. Emerjade Simms calls herself the cool one. She’s the party girl. Let’s put on makeup and go shopping. In other words, let’s ignore all the other voices and go into denial. On the other hand, she is the most knowing, and when it comes time to enact the trauma that happened to Vic with the basketball coach, Simms plays the coach, so we glimpse her heart of darkness.
Enormity, Girl, and the Earthquake in her Lungs
Photo by Dahlia Katz
The voice of Bria McLaughlin is a genuine puzzle because she keeps retreating into infantilism yet she is capable of keen observation. On the other hand, she is not as innocent as she seems which is like the alter ego of Vic who also perhaps plays the innocence card. She’s also the one who always demands attention, so is this another hidden attribute of Vic that we should know about? Somehow this voice seems closest to representing Vic’s unravelled mind. Everything about her is unfocused and vague. (I also wish the actor had spoken louder because I did miss some of her lines.)
Early on we gather that there are several traumas that have caused Vic’s unravelling involving both her parents and the basketball coach. Shockingly, some of the voices even suggest she go home to her parents which would be the height of some kind of emotional suicide. These dangerous voices add a menacing undercurrent to the dynamic of the ensemble.
When I said at the beginning that chaos reigns I meant exactly that. The voices always move and always speak. Sometimes it’s like choral speaking or dance drama. They go off on tangents and tell stories like Domville who paints a whole picture of a suburban neighbourhood including all the characters. Sometimes they get interested in each other and ignore Vic. They even play control games against themselves. In other words, the voices have no discipline, nor should they.
Through all this hurly-burly Endicott-Douglas’ role is to react as if she were a buoy on the water being rocked relentlessly in all directions, and she does a masterful job. The impact of the voices depend on the strength of her response to them. Vic must have a presence in that room and Endicott-Douglas does.
Donaldson, with input from movement director Lisa Karen Cox and intimacy and fight director Christina Fox, has directed the actors to within an inch of their lives resulting is a masterful highly choreographed stage picture. There is exquisite detail in movement patterns and the precise placement of arms and hand gestures. What comes to mind is the intricate positioning designs that leaders of marching bands have to map out.
Ting-Huan Christine Urquhart’s clever set with its heavy walls and ceiling feels claustrophobic as Vic feels closed within herself. Raha Javanfar has ensured that the sudden shifts in lighting match the abrupt swings within the dynamics of the ensemble. Amanda Wong’s costumes carry the same colour thread but in design match the personality of the voice. For example, Domville is ultra feminine, Simms is on the sexy side, McLaughlin is rather shapeless while the two greatest antagonists, Der and Rodriguez are the most normal in their attire.
Now, quite frankly the play is a tad unwieldy much like its title,
Enormity, Girl, and the Earthquake in her Lungs which could be interpreted as a mind pulling itself in too many directions, a body trying to hold steady, and a trauma that shakes everything loose.
In truth, the script is a bit too wordy, a bit too long, and maybe even a bit too oblique, nonetheless it makes for absorbing theatre, particularly watching this high energy ensemble of female actors never flag in their commitment to their roles which is what really draws you into the play.
If I had to choose one word to describe Chelsea Woolley’s Enormity, Girl, and the Earthquake in her Lungs, it would be striking because it certainly does make an impression.
Enormity, Girl, and the Earthquake in her Lungs
Photo by Dahlia Katz