A MISFORTUNE by Scott Christian, Kevin Shea and Wade Bogert-O’Brien (Common Descent/Next Stage). At Factory Theatre Studio (125 Bathurst). January 11 at 9:30 pm, January 12 at 2:45 pm, January 14 at 7 pm, January 15 at 8:45 pm, January 16 at 10 pm, January 18 at 4:45 pm, January 19 at 7:15 pm. 416-966-1062. See listing. Rating: NNNN
What defines a good relationship? In the fine chamber musical A Misfortune, inspired by a Chekhov short story, there are as many answers as there are characters.
Sofya (Trish Lindström), wife of the older Andrey (Réjean Cournoyer), is romantically pursued by Ivan (Jordan Till), a family friend who’s been visiting them in the country. She asserts she’s never been more than friendly, but he believes differently. The day that Sofya breaks off with Ivan, Andrey invites him over for an evening drink with another couple, Masha (Kaylee Harwood) and Pavel (Adam Brazier), newly returned from Paris.
That get-together, fraught with conflicting emotions yet entertaining and moving, is the centre of the show, with music by Scott Christian, book and lyrics by Kevin Shea and lyrics by Wade Bogert-O’Brien.
In director Evan Tsitsias’s sharp production, smartly designed by Joanna Yu (set and costumes) and Andrew Smith (lighting), each of the five offers her or his idea of love and what makes a perfect partner. Andrey is staid, Sofya wants a sense of adventure and Ivan seeks one true, unwavering mate, while Masha and Pavel thrive as much on jealousy and intrigue as on lasting affection.
The music covers a wide range of styles, its rhyming lyrics witty but never aiming simply for cleverness. Under music director and pianist Chris Tsujiushi, who performs with cellist Brian Holt, each song helps build character and narrative.
Listen to the first scene between Sofya and Andrey, for instance. She’s just – she thinks – extricated herself from the situation with Ivan and wants to put miles between them by travelling with her husband. Proposing a trip, she sings him a quick, waltz-like tune whose melody suggests motion its words hint at change, passion and moving on. He responds in short, staccato musical phrases, each of which stops abruptly at the end of a line, about the practicalities of time and money. Only when he reminisces about his own youth does he pick up the romantic waltz tune, but his older, conservative self has the last word.
The evening of conversation and drink shows all five characters working at cross-purposes, hiding their emotions or turning a compliment into a sarcastic put-down. The scene is structured around a series of toasts, but even before they enter Sofya and Andrey’s house, Pavel and Masha get liquored up. There’s tension between the pair from the start, Masha showing off her French and the skirt-chasing Pavel denying his work problems and the stress of having two sons.
In a lesser production, the commanding Brazier and Haywood would steal the show with their fiery antics, recounting their infatuations with others and anger with each other. The husband and wife both know that it’s natural to have a sexual itch what matters is how vigorously you scratch it.
But the actors’ strengths are matched by that of Cournoyer, whose stuffy Andrey loves his workaday life of moderation and condescends to his wife, treating her like a doll. Equally believable is Till’s Ivan, who glowers like a little boy when he doesn’t get his way and is prepared to rush headlong into a romantic future without any thought about practicalities.
The most nuanced work, though, is Lindström’s. We’re never sure whether her Sofya did encourage Ivan early on, and she runs through enough should-I-or-should-I-not moods to convince us that it’s possible. Lindström creates a character, alternately glowing and anguished, who’s a series of opposites. That makes her all the more human, especially in a final bittersweet decision that brings the production full circle.
