Theatre that'll take you back to 2003 (or 2019, for that matter)

The pandemic isn't over, but CBC Arts is ready for a Big Night Out. During the first lockdown, we wrote about all things virtual, and now that live entertainment is returning to Toronto, we're ready to mask up and enjoy the scene. Read our takes on some of the city's new attractions. COVID-19 keeps changing what we've come to expect from arts and culture, but when you've been stuck at home since the Before Times, everything's a major event. 

Apologies to the capybaras, but there are few High Park attractions that could rival what's happening at the amphitheatre these days. Since June, Canadian Stage has been presenting an eclectic festival called Dream in High Park. It's a stand-in for their usual offering of Shakespearean fare — swapping out Hamlet and co. for a slate of music and dance and even lectures about bats — and Blackout, a new musical by Anton Lipovetsky and Steven Gallagher, is arguably the centrepiece of the event. The play is set in Toronto during the northeast power outage of 2003, an event that left more than 50 million people in the dark, the GTA included. And if we weren't living through a much wider-ranging disaster, the production would have appeared as part of Canadian Stage's 2020–21 season.

The version on stage at Dream in High Park is still a work in development, the latest iteration since Blackout's origins with Reprint, a series of original plays that were inspired by items in the Globe and Mail archives. Using a photo of the darkened city skyline as their source material, Lipovetsky and Gallagher debuted Cygnus in 2019, a one-act play about two men, both lost in their own ways, who find each other in Riverdale Park on the night the power went out.

That story is now one of three stand-alone chapters in Blackout. Its two new acts are Gemini, a crackling two-hander about quarreling sisters, and Pandora, a drama that begins as a blackout block party winds down. Playing to Aug. 15, CBC Arts's Leah Collins and Reiko Milley recently caught it at the High Park Amphitheatre.

Leah Collins: Outdoor theatre has been a common pandemic pivot, but there was something about the prospect of seeing a new show at the amphitheatre that felt like a special opportunity. Shakespeare in High Park is such a summer tradition in Toronto. Even if it's not a personal habit of mine, there was something about this that felt like a return, you know?

Reiko Milley: It was pretty wonderful. I mean, I knew I was going to enjoy being outdoors on a balmy evening. But getting to be a part of a real live audience while the summer breeze literally ruffled my hair and fireflies zipped around overhead?

LC: Not just fireflies! There were bats and at least one puffball of a bunny rabbit attempting to steal the show. The amphitheatre is such a gem. I think one of my post-pandemic resolutions will be to seek out more shows there, and here's hoping the eclectic programming of Dream in High Park becomes more than a one-off. There was something so fitting about watching Blackout from the park at dusk surrounded by happy strangers. The night sky really transports you to the time and place of the story, even if we couldn't technically see the stars (blast that 2021 light pollution). I realize that the show's still a work in progress, and that in a perfect COVID-free world, Blackout would have enjoyed a bigger (indoor!) premiere at the Berkeley Street Theatre this spring, but this is one effective Plan B. 

What did you think? How did being outside add to the show? Or maybe I should explain the story a bit before you answer that — you know, for the benefit of anyone reading who isn't us? 

There was something about this that felt like a return.- Leah Collins, CBC Arts

RM: Yes, I think that's a good idea. Before I start talking about the embarrassing amount of times I looked up at the sky fully expecting to see crystal-clear constellations ...

LC: Same! I did the exact same thing! Is it wrong that I kind of wish I'd been here for the Toronto blackout? I was probably somewhere in Edmonton at the time, watching DVDs in a basement apartment.

RM: I was on a road trip through California with my family, so I only heard about it on the news. I did feel like I was missing out on something, to be quite honest.

LC: OK, we're in agreement. Living through the most devastating power outage in North American history would've been an absolute treat. But yes, the play. The show is a sort of an anthology, compiling three different stories about the night of the blackout. Each one takes place in a different location, heading east from Little Italy to Riverdale Park, and there's a chronological structure to the proceedings, spanning from early evening to the wee hours of the morning. I'll say it again: I love that we saw it outdoors. Nature's unpredictable, sure, but it's one top-notch lighting designer.

LC: I don't know if you took a peek at the program, but the three acts are all named after characters from Greek mythology: Gemini, Pandora and Cygnus. Did you pick up on that while we were watching it?

RM: I did not, but it's giving me something to think about right this second. Particularly pertaining to the second act.

LC: Yeah ... and now I don't know how to keep talking about that without spilling a few spoilers. Why'd I have to open my big mouth? I've gone and opened a Pandora's box of my own. I guess I brought it up because I was surprised to discover the mythology/astronomy angle. The themes that really stuck with me ran much closer to the surface: loneliness, especially — and the singular flavour of being somewhat adrift in Toronto, noted screwface capital of the world. There's an easy connection to make with pandemic life, I think.

What struck you about the story? What was the play about to you? 

RM: Definitely loneliness. Loneliness when you thought you were totally fine on your own; loneliness even when you're in a strong relationship; loneliness in a city teeming with people. And what happens when you can't ignore it anymore.

The themes that really stuck with me ran much closer to the surface: loneliness, especially — and the singular flavour of being somewhat adrift in Toronto, noted screwface capital of the world.- Leah Collins, CBC Arts

LC: That song in the third act, "Summer in Toronto," really nails the vibe of "loneliness in a city teeming with people: GTA edition."

RM: That song was a huge standout for me.

LC: When karaoke is legal again, I want to sing it.

RM: Oh, you should.

LC: I loved the music throughout, really. (I'll just leave this video of Michael De Rose right here. If your heart swells a half-size after viewing, your reflexes are in working condition.)

LC: Did you have any favourite moments? Or any characters that stuck with you?

RM: Seeing Chilina Kennedy sing was pretty special. Her character also delivered the most LOLs for me. And her outfit was so very 2003 it basically transported me the moment she stepped onstage.

LC: For a brief glimmer in time, people wore scarves as belts. And that time was 2003. Hearing "Stacy's Mom" on the pre-show soundtrack was a pretty effective time machine, too.

RM: I hate to admit it, but in addition to the melody from "Shine Again," I was humming that earworm all weekend.

LC: Perfectly understandable. Unlike wearing scarves as belts, some things about 2003 are timeless.

Did the show feel like a period piece to you? I mean, yes — obviously, it is. Blackout's set in a very particular time and place, and I've heard enough anecdotes over the years to recognize some common details in the play: spontaneous parties, neighbours getting to know each other for the first time. The play captures an unusually chummy moment in Toronto history.

LC: We briefly mentioned the pandemic connections a minute ago. Both events, the blackout and the pandemic, thrust everyone into extreme circumstances. And yeah, there's something about both scenarios that maybe pushed folks to prioritize the ties they have to other humans. It's impossible to watch the show — or maybe anything — without making a few links to the way things are now. But there's something that keeps me from thinking too much about how Blackout might have been shaped by the last 17 months. Did this play feel like a pandemic story to you? Or is it, more broadly, just a Toronto story? I want to say that it's more the latter. 

RM: I understand why audience members would read the play through a COVID lens. It's hard not to do that given the widespread-isolation parallel. But I think you're right that it felt like more than a pandemic story — that the play would have rung and will ring true despite what "phase" Toronto is in.

LC: I definitely want to see how Blackout evolves, at any rate. A year from now, the whole pandemic angle might not be at the top of my scrambled mind anymore. (Please let it not be top of mind anymore!)

Being part of a murmuring, laughing, cheering audience — that felt like 2019.- Reiko Milley, CBC Arts

LC: Before I forget to mention it: was this the first show that you've seen all pandemic — the first time you've been out to see anything?

RM: It was!

LC: That's incredible, Reiko! Did it feel like you were back in 2019 — or 2003, for that matter?

RM: A little bit! I mean, we were all masked, carefully screened prior to entry and given mini hand sanitizers upon exiting. So that felt like the new normal. But being part of a murmuring, laughing, cheering audience — that felt like 2019. Hearing, and thoroughly enjoying, "Stacy's Mom" made it feel like 2003. 

Blackout. Featuring Chilina Kennedy, Synthia Yusuf, Rami Khan, Germaine Konji, Yemie Sonuga, Jonathan Winsby, Brandon Antonio, Michael De Rose. Music and lyrics by Anton Lipovetsky. Book by Steven Gallagher. Directed by Ann Hodges. Produced by The Musical Stage Company in association with Canadian Stage. To Aug. 15. High Park Amphitheatre, Toronto. www.canadianstage.com