Rose: song and dance, Gertrude Stein, an existential crisis and disco lions
23 Jan 2019

by Drew Rowsome - Photos by Cylla von Tiedemann

Rose is part of Soulpepper's "Family Festival" and anyone taking children, or those still retaining a sense of child-like wonder (it is recommended for ages "5-105"), will be delighted. An old-fashioned blue curtain parts to reveal a folky trio, before opening to unveil a stark art deco-ish set that soon proves to be very versatile and filled with eye-popping colour. The music and gags don't pause and the energy is contagious. On the surface it is a glossy fun-filled musical that entertains throughout and sends everyone home happy and smiling.

Fortunately, for those of us with a more jaded frame of mind, Rose also delves into other intriguing areas. Poor Rose, a very spunky and fine-voiced Hailey Gillis (Onegin), is in the midst of an existential crisis. Because of her burning question of "Who am I?", she is unable to say her name out loud. Her quest for self-knowledge and expression is the backbone of the show. That it resolves with the ambiguous "I won't do what I can't, I'll do what I can, because that's who I am," is very realistic and somehow quintessentially Canadian. Fortunately, co-creators Mike Ross and Sarah Wilson manage to contort that semi-triumph into a 11 o'clock number that makes it feel almost like a Disney princess resolution.

The fourth wall is broken from the moment we meet the genial guitar-wielding narrator Frank Cox-O'Connell (Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet) to the delightful moment when Love the dog, portrayed as a hilarious furry by the remarkable Jonathan Ellul, launches into the power balled "Let Love Out." The number, as do many in the production, simultaneously satirizes the conventions of musical theatre while shamelessly seducing us with the same conventions (because, damn it, they work). Of course this does slightly damage the finale with its reliance on a choral "Climb to the top!" and Gillis's impassioned "Set me free!" And I could have lived without, despite the masterful comedic set-up,  Love the dog's audience participation number, a variation on Peter Pan's "Clap if you believe in fairies, don't let Tink die." To be fair, the children in the audience loved it, as did the opening night actor-heavy contingent eager to demonstrate that they should be the ones onstage.

Gertrude Stein's source children's book The World is Round, provides subtly linked touchstones as well as wordplay that is very funny and thought provoking in a meme-worthy style. It is a revelation to hear how satisfyingly Stein's distinctive precise prose translates into lyrics that are a catchy mix of patter song and folk/rap. And the songs are lovingly belted by a cast that is invested in their multiple characters while also enjoying themselves so thoroughly that it radiates off the stage. When the ensemble contains sterling eye-and-ear-catching pros like Troy Adams (Love Train), Raquel Duffy (La Bete, Animal Farm, The Goat or, Who is Sylvia?) and Sabryn Rock (The Royale, Fun Home, Obeah Opera), Rose has a near overload of talent.

Alana Bridgewater (Ma Rainey's Black Bottom) is a force of nature and there is delicious theatrical tension when she attempts to not blow everyone else off the stage, and the roof off the theatre, while essaying both Gloria the Choirmaster (some delicious introductory gospel riffs) and Mysterious Woman/Lion Lady. While she slinks around her comely-costumed disco lions, Bridgewater incarnates just the right tone of Stein-esque sexually explosive repression. And the lion that Rose chooses (it makes sense in context) for her pride, Oliver Dennis (La Bete, Animal Farm), asserts himself comedically in a mime role. In the midst of a musical.

If this weren't a "family friendly" show, I would dub Willie, the ever engaging and brattily sexy Peter Fernandes (A Midsummer Night's Dream, Romeo and Juliet, Love and Information, King Lear, Onegin), Rose's love interest. Fernandes romps through the role, interjecting quips with flawless timing, and selling a heartfelt ballad of bewildered confusion with aplomb. The timing throughout Rose is exquisite. Choreographer Monica Dottor (Bears) is in a playful mode, and director Gregory Prest (Bed and Breakfast, La Bete) keeps everything moving and always involving. School desks become mountains, school supplies become percussion, and musicians - the spirited Michelle Bouey, Scott Hunter, Raha Javanfar, John Millard, James Smith and Adam Warner - morph into integrated characters without missing a beat. 

A new Canadian musical, especially a very good one, is something to be celebrated. When it has such a slick and dynamic production, even more so. That it balances between innocence and menace - perhaps best exemplified by the wide-eyed Cox-O'Connell intoning that "Otters can rip your throat out" at a particularly surreal and fabulous moment, before collapsing into hapless frustration when Rose strays from her heroine duties - gives hope for its future. Rose will undoubtedly be a big hit but if I have to quibble, there is just a little too much flannel. The fabric should be added to the entrance warning sign about the use of fog and strobe lights.