WHAT I LEARNED FROM A DECADE OF FEAR by Beatriz Pizano, Lyon Smith and Trevor Schwellnus (Aluna Theatre, 1 Wiltshire, unit 124). Runs to November 30, Thursday-Saturday 8 pm, matinee Sunday 2:30 pm. $15-$20. alunatheatre.ca. Rating: NNN
With Canadian forces now involved in the bombing of ISIS, What I Learned From A Decade Of Fear has a greater resonance than when it premiered a year ago in the Rutas Panamericanas Festival.
After touring to New York City, Bogota and Montreal, the Aluna Theatre production returns to Toronto.
The piece, created by performers Beatriz Pizano and Lyon Smith and director/scenographer Trevor Schwellnus, is a performance piece that pulls the audience into a world of fright, sometimes subtle, sometimes blatant, thats supported by the statistics were given about the ongoing war on terror. The actors write these on an overhead projector at the start of the show: deaths, terrorist groups, bombings, U.S. Department of Defence spending on combat efforts, veteran suicides each stat is followed, chillingly, by the writer saying thank you.
The pages on which the statistics are written then become a carpet for the action, which features Pizano, dressed in military black, interrogating Smith, who plays a left-leaning character whos canvassed for Greenpeace. The questions are innocent at first, like how many hours of happiness has Smith had the previous day and what he had for breakfast. But Pizano twists the answers, suggesting that Smith doesnt care about other people and is himself full of the violence he avoids in the world.
Its a kind of Socratic dialogue with a dash of metatheatre, since the two identify themselves as actors playing roles as well as playing games. But as the questioning becomes more insidious somehow eating organic jam is turned against Smith he becomes increasingly confused. His interrogator use a soothing tone, but what shes driving at is anything but naive.
Pizanos character knows how to twist both her questions and the answers she receives, changing the parameters of the discussion so that Smith is off-balance and shes always right.
Listen to the extraordinary way she moves the conversations from jam to Nutella to Italians to the Pope.
The shows most striking moments come when Smith puts on a long mask with the label Freedom of Speech on it. Theres a camera inside, and we watch a live video projection of his fears and insecurities.
Schwellnus sits on the side of the stage with his laptop, revealing the action from multiple viewpoints using cameras placed around the theatre. At one point the live Pizano eerily talks to her video double, and in another horrific film section we watch a group of men being attacked from above by the American military.
The two actors are so sincere in their speeches and interactions, have such strong chemistry, that we can almost not quite, but almost be lulled into accepting some pretty outrageous statements. Thats part of the power of this show, a Mobius strip that turns on itself at the end, blending politics and emotions in an unusual theatrical package.
