Jack Grinhaus gave audiences a hot spotlight on the depths of theatre arts Theatre North West is capable of in his hands.
Grinhaus has been the artistic director of TNW all season long, but he did not program the plays this year, those contracts had to be signed long before he arrived. So The Secret Mask, the last play of the 2014-15 set, was his first to cast and direct himself.
The bar was set from the opening second. The character of Mae, an emotionally engaged speech therapist, strode across the stage, taking small turns in her unobstructed path. The path was a set of square flashes of light on the stage that lit up one step ahead of her. It was symbolic of her quest in the play: to follow the flickers of progress made by the brain-muddled protagonist Ernie as he slowly, painstakingly recovered his communication faculties after a stroke.
Another dab of thunderous symbolism was the clothing worn by Ernie and his estranged son George. Ernie was clad in an old man's frumpy orange sweater while George was snappily dressed in business-casual attire, but peeking out from under his button-down shirt was an orange T-shirt underneath, clearly declaring that despite his outward appearance and self-selected facade, he was his father underneath it all.
The text of the play focused on the anger, confusion, fear and wounds of life between a son who felt abandoned by his dad who walked out on the family at two years old, and that of the father who either can't or won't explain himself. In between them was Mae, trying to build Ernie's words and build George's resolve as both men struggled to even be in the same room with each other, but both painfully in need of one another at least in the short term.
Several plot twists ramped up the tension and/or revealed bits of information to compel the audience to know what might come out of their mouths next. It was evocative, thought-provoking stuff that might have been too heavy a load for a mainstream audience were it not for hilarious little lines - often just a single word - salted into the dialogue from beginning to end to keep the porch light of hope ablaze for the viewer.
It was expertly written by playwright Rick Chafe who, that very night of TNW's opening, won the Manitoba Book Prize. Chafe was in Prince George to see the first few performances as a reward for that honour.
One of the reason he won, clearly, was his ability in the Secret Mask's script to both thwart and inspire the reader in each miniature scene across the breadth of the whole play. The audience neither gets all its answers nor loses all its hope, and all three primary characters take turns being appreciated and scorned by the audience. It is an open but appropriately indecisive indictment of Ernie's family flush 40 years before, George's inability to grow up past his fatherless condition as a child, and Mae's representation of a cold and dog-eared healthcare system. Yet all three show signs of compassion, flexibility, love and reasoning behind their actions.
It could be a surface-told tale of charming family relations in light hands, but under Grinhaus's direction it is a javelin thrown deep into the audience's consciousness. And foremost was his choice of actors.
It might have been pretty awkward for TNW, casting his wife Lauren Brotman in the role of Mae (she also morphed into a number of other smaller characters), but she spared everyone that pang of nepotism by being absolutely spectacular.
Brotman's international training and her lifelong passion for the art of drama radiated off the stage. Her TNW debut was an acting clinic in its subtle mannerism and strong grasp of character. She changed characters in literally a single flash, at one point, and utterly transcended time and place. She was one of those glue forces that allowed the two principal characters, Ernie and George, to wrestle with their strained relations.
TNW audiences are likely familiar with the George actor, Mark McGrinder, having been here on three previous acting occasions. Reason being, McGrinder can deliver simple lines with a necessary edge of earnest feeling, and deliver complex emotions with a necessary pillow of accessibility.
The role of Ernie is an epic success by David Warburton, who took training in his mannerisms by a dozen stroke survivors brought in by Grinhaus. He plugged that into a stellar career on the Canadian stage to render a man believable as a victim - both of physical disaster and life's arrows - and believable as a man of substance underneath it all. He gives us a character we never let off the hook for huge mistakes, but we never write off either. And he gives us laughs. For all the tragedy Ernie must embody, we must also be able to laugh. Warburton delivers the pain and the mirth.
One other character must be mentioned, and in fact applauded with ovations at full height: the set. For a theatre company acclaimed for its consistently excellent sets, this one might be the best one ever. Designed and built by veteran TNW set builder Hans Saefkow, based on a vision by Grinhaus, the facial features and audible pulse of this one is worth buying the ticket for all by itself.
The Secret Mask is on at TNW until May 13.
