Written by Jacob Richmond. Co-directed by Jacob Richmond and Britt Small. Featuring Celine Stubel and Amitai Marmorstein. Presented by Theatre Passe Muraille. To Dec 6. Tue-Sat 8:30pm; Sat 4pm. $20 (Tue-Thu) and $25 (Fri-Sat); Matinee PWYC. Theatre Passe Muraille Backspace, 16 Ryerson Avenue. 416.504.7529.
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Legoland is so bizarrely compelling that it is almost indescribable. Rounding out Theatre Passe Muraille’s festival of four plays, this work developed by Atomic Vaudeville is as powerful and as volatile as the company’s name.
The play spans a year in the life of two home-schooled, hippy-raised teens who, after accidentally getting their parents' Saskatoon-based, communal farm/grow-op busted, are shipped off to a catholic reform school in the real world — in this case, Legoland. There, Penny, 15, falls in love with Johnny Moon, the lead singer of the hit boy band 7up, but, when his career goes bad and he transforms himself into the thug rapper JK47, she drags brother Ezra, 13, to confront him — selling their Ritalin for bus fare. When they are caught, part of their community service package is to present their tragic story to others in the hopes of averting similar familiar disasters.
It’s the performers that really kick this one up. As Ezra, an ADHD brainchild/scathing social critic, Amitai Marmorstein is an extreme mix of The Rocky Horror Picture Show’s Riff Raff and Gene Wilder’s Willy Wonka. His movements, small and measured, are used to highlight the vitriolic verbiage he so adeptly spits out. He is also the piece’s prime puppeteer, often using (and abusing) his dolls and action figures to augment his sister’s narrations.
Celine Stubel’s Penny is as intense as it gets. Not only is she engaging in both her physicality and her honest delivery, but one can sense the passion pumping away inside her as tears — not from sadness but, incredibly it appears, from effort — constantly streak down her face.
Jacob Richmond’s script is pointed and deeply seeded in the North American cultural atmosphere of its time. It is frequently self-referential and follows an arc like a roller coaster, thrilling but always returning back on course. As co-director with Britt Small, Richmond brings to life this script’s call for puppetry, projections and a highly presentational style, but shifts down a gear when too much focus is given to being clever or overselling a joke. However, rammed as it is with great devices like JK47’s “Fuck You With My Chainsaw” (as sung by Ezra) and fake seizures at Wal-Mart to initiate a community of concern, you almost don’t notice.
Legoland marks a strong end to Theatre Passe Muraille’s festival and, if it is any indication of future endeavours, Atomic Vaudeville are sure a company to keep an eye on.