Men are from Mars, Women are from a Different Part of Mars: A Review of Co.Ed

Men and women are different. Captain Obvious, right? I mean, everyone knows that. But what is it that makes us different? And why is it that we are different? And how do we define these differences? In fact, how to we define men and women? Sounds like I’m launching into a first-year gender studies class, but I’m actually launching into a review of Co.Ed (or How to Become Your Gender, in 10 Easy Steps), a series of two new works of theatre that recently occupied the Joseph Green Studio theatre for the first York University Mainstage production of the season. The most notable point of interest of this undertaking (and there were many) was that the men and women of the 4th year acting conservatory class were split up to perform two different shows, something never done before in York’s illustrious theatre history.
The first part, "Table Talk," written by Deborah Pearson, featured an all-male cast and studied the nature of masculinity and our preconceptions of what it is to be ‘male.’ The second piece, "A Play About the Other Play" (or "APATOP"), was actually created by the female cast members under the direction of Claire Calnan, using the script and ideas of "Table Talk" as source material. Each show was successful in its own way, though "Table Talk" was the clear victor in this non-contest (or non-test, for you newspeak people). "Table Talk" had the luxury of an existing script when the rehearsal process began, so much more could be devoted to the delving into character, the direction (by the legendary Ross Manson), and the design. "APATOP" had to begin from scratch to create a brand new piece of theatre in the exact same amount of time, and the clarity and intent of the piece suffered because of this. The show was in fact being revised right up until dress rehearsal, putting extra pressure on the design and production teams. How can one design a show based on another show’s set, but before the show itself exists? The answer: not easily.
"Table Talk" tells the Glengarry, Glen Ross-ish story of a mid-sized Alberta small electronics distributing firm and the ebb and flow of its hyper-masculine staff. Sounds boring? It’s not. At all. As the audience entered the space, the presence of the cigarette-smoking Nigel (played with passion by Kaleb Alexander) haunted us, glad-handing and smiling at us while the haunting eyes of Kennedy (played by Jamie Maczko) scanned us over from a large table set centre stage. Laura Storey’s sparse set was nonetheless effective; how often does one walk into a theatre space to find wall-to-wall carpeting, after all? The one large table became several small tables throughout the show, the very definition of minimalism and versatility, two things I greatly advocate in the design of theatre. The sparse lighting design by Jareth Li blended traditional stage lighting with four halogen-bulb lights hung not high above the actors’ heads, bathing the stage in a cold white light when in use. The sterility of the design perfectly juxtaposed the intense emotions of performances, which dug deep and emerged fiery.
The young (with the exception of Chris Karczmar) actors took the script and ran with it from there, displaying an extraordinary amount of maturity in playing older characters and an emotional range that ran the gamut from vulnerable to powerful in an instant. Particularly notable were Karczmar as Lance, a suicidal father with fear of abandonment; Alexander, whose Nigel was strong save for an elaborate movement section which repeatedly destroys and reasserts the characters’ masculinity; Maczko, whose Kennedy had the eyes of a deer in the headlines and the demeanor of a cornered predator; and Andrew Loder, who gave one of the best portrayals of age that I have ever seen from a young man. His voice was truly stunning, filling the space with commanding authority yet with a hint of regret at past wrongdoings.
That simple set absolutely exploded with the coming of "APATOP," finding uses for spaces that the audience had no idea existed during the first piece. Curtains, screens, props, even a full-sized easel were all attached to the underside of the tables for the duration, and were revealed in stunning fashion as "APATOP" progressed. Set designer Sarah Beaudin showed tremendous ingenuity in the maximum and totally unique usage of what was essentially another designer’s set. Use of projection in combination with Kitty Gosen’s warm lighting was a sharp contrast to Table Talk’s coldness.
The script for "APATOP" worked best when the female actors recited the exact lines that the men had uttered in the first piece; a distinct binary was created between men in positions of power and women in the same positions. The female cast did well in dramaturgically mining "Table Talk" for the most effective dialogue for their opposite characters to speak, resulting in an evening of thought-provoking gender study and engaging theatre. Beyond their dramaturgical work, however, were the female performances which were every bit as effective as the males’.
The real breakthrough performance here was Vanessa Quagliara as the female Lance, delivering one of the finest moments of emotional breakdown I have ever seen on stage. It was the trio of Bronwyn Caudle, Erin Kehoe and Kaitlin Janisse, however, who provided the true core of the piece. Their beautiful three-part-harmony renditions of classic Motown and Doo-Wop tunes provided useful guideposts for the audience to absorb and mull over the implications of the reverse-gender dialogue, while making scene transitions hauntingly beautiful. The piece did, however, fall apart toward the end, as too many ideas were packed into too tight an area and a bizarre YouTube video about a pregnant man was displayed. The sense of bewilderment in the audience was actually palpable at the show’s finale, though the concept of the female adaptation of a male-centric script remained fluid with moments of meta-theatricality that provided much-needed humour in an intensely emotional and intellectual evening.