Nicholas Surges
When I was asked to review Carmilla, I knew I was in for a treat. After all, it combines three of my favourite things: burlesque, vampires, and unbridled queer eroticism. The venue (The Painted Lady) complements the show with its vaguely period charm: its plush crimson drapes, hanging chandeliers, and darkly-stained wood serving as a suitable backdrop to Le Fanu's tale of Gothic horror. But while the story hits all of the same beats as the novella, this is certainly NOT a "straight" interpretation of the source material.
This retelling of Carmilla is both a coming out narrative and a love story. It's a tightly-written adaptation, but I found the play's thesis ("Our love isn't hurting anybody,") is somewhat undermined by the fact that Carmilla, you know, hurts people. She is a creature who is both capable of and willing to inflict harm when it suits her. For me, Stella Kulagowski's (Laura) final monologue (which is delivered with the passion and clarity of a woman who has found herself), is what rescues the piece from this dramaturgical snag, but it is a bone of contention that other audience members may find harder to swallow.
In terms of the performances themselves, the cast is at their strongest when they embrace the camp value of the show. It's a transition that takes a few scenes to really sink in as the performers veer between goofy stylization and earnest naturalism, but when they hit their mark the result is electric. A particular shout-out goes to Amanda McKnight for her portrayal of Mlle. De La Fontaine: a hilarious caricature of a prim Victorian governess. Heath V. Salazar's Carmilla alternates between coquettish charm and supernatural menace, but sometimes falls flat during the less charged “in-between” moments of the play, when they have less to play with. With that said, their choreography is beyond reproach (the “puppet dance” at the beginning of the play is a thing of spectral beauty). This and the other burlesque moments of the piece are well-integrated and serve to punctuate beats in the story, such as Laura's sexual awakening (which brings the whole cast on-stage in an erotic nightmare of black leather and red glitter).
Would I recommend Carmilla? Definitely. It's a titillating romp that alternates between genuine horror and good old campy fun. But my one word of warning would be this: while the traverse staging perfectly suits the burlesque elements of the piece, the narrowness of the venue can complicate sightlines, especially during scenes that are blocked on the stage. To get the most out of this show, I would recommend arriving early to take advantage of the limited seating and to “stake” out a spot about two-thirds of the way down the gallery
Info and tickets for all Toronto Fringe shows can be found at fringetoronto.com
When I was asked to review Carmilla, I knew I was in for a treat. After all, it combines three of my favourite things: burlesque, vampires, and unbridled queer eroticism. The venue (The Painted Lady) complements the show with its vaguely period charm: its plush crimson drapes, hanging chandeliers, and darkly-stained wood serving as a suitable backdrop to Le Fanu's tale of Gothic horror. But while the story hits all of the same beats as the novella, this is certainly NOT a "straight" interpretation of the source material.
This retelling of Carmilla is both a coming out narrative and a love story. It's a tightly-written adaptation, but I found the play's thesis ("Our love isn't hurting anybody,") is somewhat undermined by the fact that Carmilla, you know, hurts people. She is a creature who is both capable of and willing to inflict harm when it suits her. For me, Stella Kulagowski's (Laura) final monologue (which is delivered with the passion and clarity of a woman who has found herself), is what rescues the piece from this dramaturgical snag, but it is a bone of contention that other audience members may find harder to swallow.
In terms of the performances themselves, the cast is at their strongest when they embrace the camp value of the show. It's a transition that takes a few scenes to really sink in as the performers veer between goofy stylization and earnest naturalism, but when they hit their mark the result is electric. A particular shout-out goes to Amanda McKnight for her portrayal of Mlle. De La Fontaine: a hilarious caricature of a prim Victorian governess. Heath V. Salazar's Carmilla alternates between coquettish charm and supernatural menace, but sometimes falls flat during the less charged “in-between” moments of the play, when they have less to play with. With that said, their choreography is beyond reproach (the “puppet dance” at the beginning of the play is a thing of spectral beauty). This and the other burlesque moments of the piece are well-integrated and serve to punctuate beats in the story, such as Laura's sexual awakening (which brings the whole cast on-stage in an erotic nightmare of black leather and red glitter).
Would I recommend Carmilla? Definitely. It's a titillating romp that alternates between genuine horror and good old campy fun. But my one word of warning would be this: while the traverse staging perfectly suits the burlesque elements of the piece, the narrowness of the venue can complicate sightlines, especially during scenes that are blocked on the stage. To get the most out of this show, I would recommend arriving early to take advantage of the limited seating and to “stake” out a spot about two-thirds of the way down the gallery
Info and tickets for all Toronto Fringe shows can be found at fringetoronto.com
No comments:
Post a Comment