NEWS

TORONTO STAGE'S 2004 BLISS LIST

January 3, 2005 - by Robert Cushman, Arts & Life Section, National Post

Here are the stage performances, in and around Toronto, that afforded me the most delight in 2004. It is not a categorical list of the best, which is impossible to quantify; it is an accounting, almost certainly incomplete, of the acting whose memory makes me smile or, in certain cases, tingle.

Martha Henry, Jim Mezon and Michael Ball in Copenhagen, as classy a start as a year could wish.

Ronnie Burkett in Provenance, not just his puppeteering but his acting, especially his creation of Miss Pity Beane, spinster (and if his writing was uneven, there were still some virtuoso speeches).

Keira Loughran, lighting up China Doll (and when she moved to Stratford, she showed great promise in King John).

Jane Spidell, a moral centre, in Rune Arlidge.

Yanna McIntosh and Caroline Cave, taking solo turns in, or possibly under, The Syringa Tree.

Blythe Wilson, a musical treat, in The Last Five Years.

Oliver Dennis, at his increasingly-frequent best, in Kite. (Good in Godot, too, and cruelly miscast in Translations.)

Leslie Faulkner, best-actress-new-to-me, a magnetic Monroe surrogate in After the Fall.

And at the Shaw Festival:
Simon Bradbury, squeezing all the juice from the dustman's arias in Pygmalion.

Kevin Bundy, a serene nebbish in Three Men on a Horse (and surprise casting at that).

Kelli Fox, delivering a one-two punch in Rutherford and Son (in which she was excellently partnered by Michael Ball) and Waiting for the Parade (in which she was matched by Laurie Paton). In both, Fox delivered white-hot passion under finger-tip control. Let's admit, or proclaim, that she was the actress of the year. In Toronto, earlier, she'd even been good in the ramshackle Restitution.

Ben Carlson in Man and Superman; for virtuosity, stamina and the audience's sense of being present at a breakthrough, this was the acting event of the year.

Mike Shara in Nothing Sacred, Peter Hutt, star, and Jennifer Phipps, cameo, in Harlequinade; Jay Turvey, Jeff Madden and ensemble in Floyd Collins.

At Stratford, an extraordinary quartet of actresses in or hitting their prime: Lucy Peacock in Macbeth; Diane d'Aquila in The Swanne, and also in King John; Lally Cadeau in The Human Voice; Seana McKenna in Henry VIII, and also for one sublime double-take in Noises Off.

Not to mention: Peter Donaldson, magnificent in Timon of Athens (and the Shakespeare production of the year); Scott Wentworth's gambler in Guys and Dolls and Sheila McCarthy's moll in Anything Goes; Sara Topham's young thing and Barry MacGregor's old one in Noises Off; Ron Kennell, plus Martha Henry and ferret, in Cymbeline; Jonathan Goad in King John; Graham Abbey and Walter Borden in Henry VIII.

And at Soulpepper:
William Hutt's Vladimir in Waiting for Godot, rackingly conveying the human need for contact and reassurance (and Joseph Ziegler's Pozzo doing the same, though, strangely, only in Act One); William Webster, Andrew Moodie and David Calderisi -- the good, the nice and the nasty -- in Nathan the Wise; Michael Hanrahan (especially fine) and Stuart Hughes in The Dumb Waiter and The Zoo Story; almost everyone in Translations, but especially Diego Matamoros (and did I mention the set?); Kristen Thomson, suddenly finding her best form in the last five minutes of Mirandolina.

Around the parks and elsewhere:

Jane Spence making Phebe, a mall role, the most dynamic character in As You Like It (Barrie), though Benjamin Clost's Touchstone was competition; Christopher Morris making Claudio, an impossible role, the most interesting character in Much Ado About Nothing (Newmarket); Tom Rooney, a boiling Hamlet (Ottawa) and Albert Schultz; a gentle one (Soulpepper).

And back in the metropolis:

In Hairspray -- Jay Brazeau, not quite Harvey Fierstein but few are; Michael Torontow, rescuing the juvenile lead; Jennifer Stewart, a bull's-eye cartoon.

In Urinetown -- David Keely, a cop made out of soap; Jennifer Walser, a witty, wistful waif; Stephen Patterson and Cara Leslie, crucifying the love interest; Spence, again, and Hilary Doyle in Matt and Ben.

Ross Manson in Cold Meat Party; also, Amy Price-Francis, whose British accent (flat Mancunian) was found wanting by many. But what would I know? I only grew up there.

Daniel MacIvor in Cul-de-Sac, and Rick Miller in Bigger than Jesus -- two impeccable solos.

Jordan Pettle, returning to form in Small Returns; Jennifer Dale's Genie of the Library, and Adam Brazier's Aladdin, in Aladdin; Matthew Gibson, best-new-actor-to-me, negotiating the minefield of Leontes in The Winter's Tale. And in Vigil, Brent Carver, virtuosically loquacious, and Henry, mostly silent and wholly wonderful.

The most improved and consistent Toronto theatre was the Lorraine Kimsa Theatre for Young People, whom I can now forgive for their cumbersome new name.

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