A Good Egg – John Threlfall
James McDougall, Similkameen O'Rourke, and Melissa Blank in Joe Egg
A Good Egg
A Day in the Death of Joe Egg is a great night of theatre for Theatre Inconnu
If Sherlock Holmes was a theatre critic, Watson might dub this fall, “The Curious Case of the Three Remounts.” Consider the three period pieces seen on stage of late: the Phoenix’s Rookery Nook, the Belfry’s Jitters and now Theatre Inconnu’s A Day in the Death of Joe Egg; of them all, Joe Egg is the most roundly satisfying and seems the one most worth revisiting. But what makes the case so curious is that it’s the perpetually-struggling, postage stamp-sized Theatre Inconnu who pulls off the most memorable of the three—despite the scale, despite the financial adversity, but because of the basics: a good production of a good script.
Written by British playwright Peter Nichols back in 1967, Joe Egg still feels fresh 45 years after its debut. We get a glimpse into the private lives of married couple Brian (a wryly funny James McDougall) and Sheila (Melissa Blank, in her best role yet), who have been struggling to raise their invalid child Joe (Similkameen O’Rourke) for the past 11 years . . . although “invalid” doesn’t really come close to describing Joe, who has been nearly brain dead since birth. (It’s worth noting that the script is based on Nichols’ own experience raising a handicapped child.)
Similkameen O'Rourke, James McDougall, Melissa Blank in Joe Egg
Naturally, this makes for some tension between the couple—Brian is an underachieving public school teacher who’s only marginally interested in Joe, while Sheila clings to unrealistic hope for a “cure” and does her best to keep a stiff upper lip; their lives get trickier when Brian encourages Sheila to join a local theatre company run by his old school chum Freddie (Graham McDonald, more often seen in Inconnu’s director’s chair). But after simmering for most of the first act, things really come to a boil when Freddie and his upper middle-class wife Pam (Lorene Cammiade) drop by for a post-rehearsal visit—at the same time as Brian’s well-meaning but overbearing mother (Geli Bartlett) puts in an unwelcome appearance. To say any more would give away some of the essential plot twists, but suffice it to say it’s not all tea and sympathy in Brian and Sheila’s flat.
The most surprising thing about Joe Egg is that while it’s essentially a domestic drama—tough to think of anything more serious than a child with birth defects—it’s actually pretty damn funny. First mounted locally by the Belfry way back in 1978, it has received numerous A-list remounts on Broadway and London’s West End over the years (most recently in 2001 with Clive Owen and 2003 with Eddie Izzard), as well as a pair of film versions. Much like Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, Joe Egg delicately balances black comedy with chillingly everyday dramatic elements—but unlike Edward Albee’s theatrical masterpiece, Nichols takes things one step further by throwing in a little post-modernism when you least expect it: characters regularly pause the action to address the audience, or offer rather hilarious asides to leaven the drama. (“I hate a play with bad language,” Brian’s mother says after passive-aggressively stirring the pot.) Not only do these moments provide insight into character, but they also offer a bit of relief from what is arguably the average parent’s worst nightmare.
Veteran director Clayton Jevne has a firm hand on this tight production, getting the best performance I’ve ever seen from local stalwart Blank—who is deservedly the centre around which this production revolves; her Sheila is tightly wound yet oh-so-chipper, and it’s easy to believe she’s walking a tightrope through life, caring for everyone at the expense of her own soul. As husband Brian, McDougall effectively captures the foxhole humour of this father-on-the-verge-of-a-nervous-breakdown, who seems to stretch like Silly Putty until he finally snaps. Good supporting work by the rest of the cast too, notably the almost unrecognizable McDonald’s droll turn as Freddie. And Jevne’s set design is worth a nod, too—two funhouse-inspired facing doors lay the groundwork for some truly black farce late in the second act, with a trio of oddball cowboy paintings (by long-contributing Inconnu artist Robert Randall) adding to the overall weirdness. But it’s his work as a director that stands out here; Jevne always manages to pull remarkable work from his various casts, deftly making us forget these are people playing parts; instead, we actually care about the lives unraveling before us over the span of these two short hours.
“Everyone’s damaged in some way,” says Sheila at one point. “There’s only so much we can do.” It’s true, and the most brilliant twist of Joe Egg is that the child isn’t the one in the worst shape here. Kudos to Jevne and his cast for crafting a remount well worth watching; the house was full on opening night, and this production easily deserves the same for its entire run. For me, Theatre Inconnu’s A Day in the Death of Joe Egg stands as the silver medalist of the fall season, topped only by the Belfry’s And Slowly Beauty. Let’s hope that counts for something come the next granting season.
—John Threlfall
Read more about John Threlfall HERE
Read more about Theatre Inconnu HERE
Thank you John. Theatre Inconnu is a quiet wonder. It would be great to make Theatre Inconnu the loud wonder that it deserves to be.
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