CALENDAR GIRLS by Tim Firth, directed by Marti Maraden (Mirvish/Royal Manitoba Theatre Centre). At the Royal Alexandra Theatre (260 King West). Runs to May 28, Tuesday-Saturday 8 pm, matinees Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday 2 pm. $30-$94. 416-872-1212. See listing. Rating: NNN
You’ll get some laughs from Calendar Girls, but you’ll also find it as predictable as July following June.
Based on a true story that inspired a British film, Tim Firth’s play follows members of the Yorkshire Women’s Institute who, after the death of Annie’s (Fiona Highet) husband, John (Dan Lett), decide to raise money by selling calendars to buy a settee for the hospital where he spent his last days.
Instead of the usual calendar with photos of local churches or bridges, the rebellious Chris (Fiona Reid) suggests that the members, older women all, pose tastefully nude – not naked, she insists – the idea being that such a calendar sells far better than landscapes. Tremendous sales prove Chris right.
Firth’s script rounds up the kind of characters who verge on stereotypes: the staunch, snobby group leader, Marie (Brigitte Robinson) Ruth, her mousy follower who finally develops a spine (Terri Cherniack) Jessie, the senior who’s more piss and vinegar than grandmotherly (Barbara Gordon) and Celia, the trophy wife who can’t stand her husband’s country club set (Jane Spence).
This Canadian production has some humour but not much drive, a problem more with the script than Marti Maraden’s easy-going direction. Some of the performances are bang on, such as Robinson’s snooty chapter president, Reid’s defiant subversive and Gordon’s sarcastic retired schoolteacher.
But the moments that are intended as dramatically engaging – is Chris more concerned about her own image than raising funds? will choir director Cora (Kathryn Akin) be reunited with her runaway daughter and the daughter’s father? is Ruth’s husband cheating? – feel like forced, weak sidebars to the story. They’re also too neatly and quickly wrapped up.
We barely feel the presence of John before he disappears, creating an emotionally blank hole in the story. The writing doesn’t make us feel for Annie’s loss but rather turns John’s death into a plot device to get us to the calendar story.
Still, some episodes work nicely, such as the confrontation between Chris and Marie, where each scores points off the other’s weaknesses, Jessie’s pointed monologue on aging and the photo shoot that ends the first act, with knitting, teacups, pastries and oranges hiding body parts. A great crowd-pleaser, that last scene.
At times aiming for emotional resonance but veering instead toward sentimentality, Calendar Girls is good for a few chuckles and some prepped feel-good moments.
