Dr Silver A Celebration of Life: a true cult musical
24 Aug 2018

by Drew Rowsome - Photos by Dahlia Katz

If it feels good, it's a pure vibration
If it feels bad, it's a corrupted vibration
If it doesn't feel, it's no vibration
If it fills you with such joy and beauty that it overwhelms your heart, it's a symphony
- Dr Silver

Dr Silver: A Celebration of Life frequently achieves symphony status but - it is billed as an "experience" not as musical theatre - it also twists and turns, refusing to be pinned down, to become its own unique beast. Full of joy and beauty but also horror, recrimination and unexpected comedy.

The audience arrives not for a theatrical production but as guests for a service, a "celebration of life," to commemorate the passing of Dr Silver. The cult leader has now departed his human body, his "collection of cells," to ascend to "The Beautiful Part." His followers have been left detailed instructions, via a vinyl LP recording, on how his service is to be conducted and how they will then follow him to The Beautiful Part.

The Heliconian Club has been transformed into a revival meeting space, strung with glittery swathes of silver and augmented by concise and clever animated projections over the altar. It is a welcoming and terrifying place. As are the greeters, the members of Dr Silver's flock. Fortunately they are also all accomplished singers and the musical offerings are almost enough to persuade one to convert. The score by Anika and Britta Johnson is filled with hook-filled motifs that, when rendered by a large cast blessed with powerful voices, fills the space with glorious sound.

The score is, conceptually designed to resemble the false promises of religious eternal ecstasy, a bit of a tease, constantly building but cutting off before achieving full throttle and catharsis. Artistically it is a daring choice that works beautifully, but it also leaves musical theatre queens with blue balls. The main cast is extraordinary, all powerhouses who visibly relish biting into music and lyrics with not only range but dramatic heft. Any one of them could have held centre stage and brought down the roof single-handedly.

Fortunately they are ably supported by the "Silver Singers," aka the Edge of the Sky Young Company from Wexford Collegiate. Fresh-faced and beaming, they bounce, strut and smile smile smile all while creating an enveloping sonic launching pad for the cast members, and frequently individual Silver Singers themselves, to soar. It is here that I am going to recuse myself for revealing any more of the plot, suffice it to say that all does not go according to plan. Two twists are subtly revealed and then hammered home unnecessarily, but they are compensated for by three comedic flashes that are breathtakingly conceived and delivered. 

Donna Garner is the brittle wife of the deceased, and she and her daughter, Kira Guloien, are the keepers of the flame. Except both have betrayed him in the past and their remorse makes for some fine singing and emotional fireworks. The other daughter, Rielle Braid (Mr Burns a Post-Electric Play) who was as unforgettable in Ride the Cyclone as she is here, dithers, loses her self-esteem and forgets her glasses, before ripping into musical arias that simply astound. And it is a treat to see Peter Deiwick (Dee Snider's Rock & Roll Christmas Tale, Rock of Ages, The Toxic Avenger) in a role where his pop appeal can just shine in a direct and unadorned fashion.

That leaves Bruce Dow (James and the Giant Peach, Sextet, Pig, Of a Monstrous Child: A Gaga Musical) whose Timothy Sweetman embodies Dr Silver's subtext of repression as destruction. The protegé besotted with the doctor's son, has the most cataclysmic crisis of faith but also has to fit that oversized emotion into the context of the service. Just as Dow has to keep his muscular voice and presence in check - he slips, or is allowed to cut loose, once and it is spine-tingling - in service of the experience. But when he does crack, it rivals the diva mother Silver Garner for repercussions.

Like all experiences, or transcendent musical theatre, Dr Silver: A Celebration of Life engages at a gut level and is thematically slippery until one has time to ruminate. The audience/participants are given a prayer book on entry, that contains the service (yes, one gets to sing) as well as fragments of the doctor's loopy philosophy. His writings and exhortations center on music and its power, on achieving the "most beautiful song," a harmony vibrating with life. And that is what the creatives creating Dr Silver: A Celebration of Life have done. Their extreme dedication and lavishing of talent and detail is eerily cult-like, taking the metaphor and making it flesh. Making it symphonic.