[su_heading size=”21″]Power, oppression, dominance, and submission intertwine in Caryl Churchill’s iconic play.[/su_heading]
As opening night looms over the cast and crew of the theatre department, the final pieces fall into place for the production of Caryl Churchill’s 1981 play, Cloud 9.
With various headset-equipped bodies walking in and out of the room, actors and actresses waiting for their cue, and the volume of crickets being adjusted, director Nigel Shawn Williams conducts his symphony with respect and tranquility.
A first-year student sweeps up wood chips into a black dust pan and puts them into the boxes that the large brown trees stem from. Its vines hang down with nets trapped within them. Some of the trees are severed in the middle and suspended on a wire. White banners with calligraphy-scribed tree branches hang alongside.
It’s a fitting and telling production cue. The play’s first act is set in 1880 Africa and deals with colonialism, whereas the second act takes place 100 years later in London, where Churchill explores sexuality. The power and oppression of one era is severed and representation of another takes its place.
Time, character, and plot lines with the distant past and closer present are all tied together like the rope that wraps around the trees, only for its meanings and implications to unravel before the audience. Similarities abound.
What is fascinating, and tricky, for the production is that even though 100 years pass between acts one and two, Churchill describes in her stage directions that only 25 years have passed for the characters. All actors play two different roles, one in each act. Males play females, whites play blacks, various ages are taken on, and vice versa. Churchill demands the viewers to be active and complicit in what is taking place.
Which is easy to do in the intimate Joseph G. Green Studio Theatre in the Centre of Film and Theatre, where the stage is placed in the middle of the room and the audience views from the sides. Performers enter and exit from four different directions, shifting our attention and playing with space effectively.
The director, Nigel Shawn Williams, is a four-time Dora Mavor Moore Award winner and the co-artistic director of the Factory Theatre. Acute to lighting, sound, and pacing, these are the hands you want to be in.
“Churchill is a master of feminist theatre,” said Williams. “Her writing has such depth that sears with an intelligent wit.” Themes of feminism, sexual oppression, and power resonate with today’s student population, something Williams believes will allow the audience to rethink their beliefs and global views.
The cast is easy on the eyes. As their beautiful bodies and faces rub against each other, the predominantly white cast in faux-British accents is ready to play and be played with. They look to Williams for direction and guidance and adhere to his every command like dolls, subjected to lots of waiting, nail biting, and hand-on-hips between technical finalizations.
In a play about power, oppression, dominance, and submission it is ironic to see these actors are so willingly controlled. It is also a joy to see them play with each other and be free, another theme of the play.
Nadine Bhabha, playing Victoria in act two, demands your attention from the moment she walks onto stage with her black heels and delivers lines like, “Hello. We’re having an orgy,” uninhibited and confidently. Joel Edmiston, a playwright in his own right, did the cha cha to pass the time, and Ben Siapas, who joined in on the cha cha, are charming presences to witness on stage.
A spotlight waltzes across the stage, a track of screams invites unease, and an actress’ bottom has bits of wood chips sticking to it. During the rehearsal, Williams tells his cast and crew, “this is a timing thing,” and 34 years after its premiere, this production is hitting its mark. At least for a school production, anyway.
Cloud 9 runs from November 10 to the 14th and tickets can be purchased online or over the phone at 416-736-5888.
Nirris Nagendrarajah, Staff Writer
Featured image courtesy of AMPD
