The Buzz – Reviews

Queen Shmooquan. The End Times Show!

Queen Shmooquan—PTE – Cherry Karpyshin Mainstage

Classic Fringe insanity, as obscene and vulgar as it is ridiculous. Worth a try just to get another hit of that gonzo Fringe charm. At 90 minutes it might be a bit of a stretch, and the musical numbers occasionally overstayed their welcome, but the audience harassment and participation was fantastic and composed a larger portion of the show.

Josh Fidelak

Jon Bennett: How I Learned to Hug

Jon Bennett—MTC Up the Alley

Classic one man comedy storytelling at Fringe. Maybe it’s just me, but the rest of the audience seemed to be enjoying it a lot more than I was. Jon Bennett is a funny man, there’s no denying that, and the powerpoint added a lot of charm to the show as a whole, but certain jokes felt milked to death. Regardless, the message of the show (learning to live with vulnerability) shone through clearly, and went hand in hand with more than one vulnerable moment from the man himself, but I think my sense of humour clashed with the fast-paced and often shock-based bits.

Arden Pruden

Reviewing The Free Press

Certified Woke Bae Productions—Manitoba Sports Hall of Fame

How awkward is it to review a show that lambastes the validity of media reviews of Fringe theatre? Er-hem. Fortunately, The Jenny Revue does not issue star ratings, which possibly contributed to the favourable reference to this publication by the comedian piloting this show. Although that is indeed liable to change; the performer implies that because his past (and presumably present) stand-up and sketch-based Fringe productions are by nature inconsistent, that the local newspaper has repeatedly stumbled in accurately reviewing his work.

Rothman’s PowerPoint takedown of the Winnipeg Free Press is highly entertaining when he isn’t too focused on sour grapes, or stubbornly clinging to his perceived comedic value of racial stereotypes. Beginning with a section on the gendered bias of Free Press reviews, that fails to consider the possibility that female-produced content could regularly out-perform shows led by men, was more telling and less hilarious than he set it up to be. His best punchlines didn’t rely on outdated stand-up tropes, so it is surprising and unnecessary that he be so defensive of tired clichés.

The research into the foibles of the newspaper’s reporting from the turn of the century to present day is easily the funniest part, but was unfortunately significantly rushed – mostly clicked through with little or no delivery – as Rothman failed to adequately manage the time for his opening performance. Should he budget more for the titular Review that is arguably the basis of the show, it will be an enjoyable set. But perhaps it is unreasonable to expect a review to evaluate the unrealized potential of a performance over that which was actually offered on stage. Or perhaps this review is unfairly prejudiced. Most likely, reviews are inherently subjective tools designed to guide patrons, rather than placate performers, and are always best consumed with a very large grain of salt.

Ashley Frantik

Agency

Broken Record Productions—The Asper Centre for Theatre & Film (U of W)

I remember spending about a year on a community project once, where we would knock on doors and chat with folks about politics, the economy, the world and their neighbourhood. Twice, we spoke with CFS (Child and Family Services) employees, both Indigenous women, and both trying all they could to try and change the agency from inside, both aware and pessimistic about their chances, aware that structural problems are not often defeated by personal virtue, if not in those exact terms.

Agency explores the multifaceted trauma inflicted by and animating our systems intended to account for the safety of children. Without going into too many details, I greatly appreciated the malevolent representative of these systems, an ageless “protector” of children, shifting from protector of white British Empire in the past to saviour of international victims of prejudice that only adoption to Canada could “rescue” them from. Most of all, I appreciated how even he fell victim to the trauma, trapped within mazes of bureaucracy and pain, despite acting as if he was in control.

Josh Fidelak

40 Below

What If Theatre—MTC Up the Alley

Several years ago I was coming home extremely late from a party. It was cold, my phone was dying, and I was far away from my bed. I got on a bus, and started trying to plot my way home. When the bus driver told me that his route was coming to an end, he must have been able to tell I was anxious, because he asked me where I had to go. Luckily, I was going into Osborne Village, and he was going back to the depot. So he killed all the lights, let me ride up front, and chatted with me all the way to the end of my street to make sure I got home safe. This to me has always been Winnipeg Transit.

I was thinking about this experience through this show, and that bus drivers are doing their best to keep us safe. I expected to walk into a comedy, as shows about Winnipeg generally are, but was met with a heartfelt exploration of trauma, and the fear of moving on. The performances were genuine, featuring some of the best drunk acting I’ve seen in a long time, and made the piece feel almost like a love letter to the eccentricities of transit patrons. Here and there the writing could be clunky, but it was a passion project come to life.

Arden Pruden

Ubuntu

Drum Cafe—Planetarium

My palms sting, my shins ache and my neck is sore.

My palms sting from pounding the drum so hard; my shins ache from tapping my foot so much; and my neck is sore from bopping up and down fervently.

Energy and excitement underline this fun and frolicking event. If you don’t have a good time in here, you really don’t know how to have a good time.

One warning: this show is LOUD. If you’re sound sensitive, you may think about ear plugs. I’m accustomed to theatre and concert levels, and I left with a slight ringing in the ears.

Ray Yuen

Jimmy Hogg: The Potato King

Jimmy Hogg—Red River College Polytechnic

The Potato King of Tinder is a sufficiently gifted storyteller to make yet another tale of the absurdities of modern dating worth the price of admission. His skill in painting a robust picture with frenetic words keeps his audience with him throughout his rapid meandering and chaotic but effortlessly conveyed journey. Every tangent, non-sequitur, and bizarre analogy inevitably pays off in the unpredictable narrative of one of the most charming neurotics of the Winnipeg Fringe.

Ashley Frantik

Between Gigs

Tickle the Lemur Productions—The Rachel Browne Theatre

Heather Madill and Joseph Aragon are well known for their large musical productions like “Bloodsuckers! The Musical” and so many others. In the program they say “we wrote this show as an excuse to perform some tunes together, and share music with people.”, and I’m glad they did. It is a nice little story to be able to showcase their singing and playing talents. The music is a mix of some songs popular at weddings, some hymns, and a few pop songs thrown in for good measure.

All the songs are well performed, and the story of the budding friendship between the musician and singer has enough legs to carry it all home.

Murray Hunter

Runaway Princess, a hopeful tale of heroin, hooking and happiness

Runaway princess—MTC Up the Alley

If you’re a fan of the classic Fringe style autobiographical storytelling one hander, this is a great example and definitely earns the 75 minute run time. Absolutely demonstrating the polish that comes with years of performance of a deeply personally meaningful play, it’s completely understandable why it had an almost sold out show at 11am on a Friday. If stories of drugs, addiction, abuse and prostitution sound like something you’d like to hear instead of causing you distress (the content warning baked into the pitch), I absolutely recommend checking this one out. Maybe buy a ticket in advance.

Josh Fidelak

The Spice of Life

Leithelle Productions —CCFM Salle Pauline-Boutal

A satire of one of the longest running forms of television entertainment, the American soap opera, The Spice of Life had no shortage of tropes to pull from. And pull it did. In the presumably picturesque Savory City, everyone is sleeping with everyone, chronology is irrelevant, and moguls have no shortage of schemes and leverage. The cast was expansive, allowing for endless familial ties and giving the feel of walking into a serial halfway through when the writers have started to write themselves into a corner. Soap operas aren’t my thing, so I wasn’t expecting to get much out of the gags, but the camp inherent to the genre carried a lot of them. That being said, the commitment to the bit was lacking from some performances; it would have been nice to see a run with absolutely no fear of overacting. After all, that’s not possible in this genre. This, combined with missed cues from both performers and tech, made for a bumpy experience that would do well with ironing out.

Arden Pruden