Kelly v Kelly: "Have you heard of such a thing? A woman arrested for dancing"
5 Jun 2023

by Drew Rowsome - Photos by Dahlia Katz

Kelly v Kelly is billed as "an intoxicating new Canadian musical." It is intoxicating. There are very few theatrical experiences that can compare with settling in for a musical and, within a few minutes, realizing that one is in professional, passionate hands. All one has to do is enjoy, riding the ebb and flow of music and movement. Savouring the champagne bubbles of excitement that rise in the illustrative but subtle choreography, and the pops on the tongue from the sumptuous harmonies. Composer and lyricist Britta Johnson (Dr Silver), book writer Sara Farb (UnCovered: The Music of Dolly Parton, Fun Home) and director/choreographer Tracey Flye (Peter's Final Flight, A Christmas Carol and a Santa's sack worth of other Christmas pantomimes) are working at the height of their powers, interlocking their skill sets to create a smooth, slick and yes, intoxicating, production. The story is slight—a mother takes her daughter to court to prevent corruption by a tango pirate and repair their damaged relationship—and the denouement subtle instead of rousing, but the musical exuberance is irresistible.


Kelly v Kelly cribs from Chicago (without the cynicism) and Evita (in the staging and structure) but is very Canadian in its gentleness. The spectacle is in the repressed emotions. Jeremy Walmsley is a smooth, clean cut dance hall gigolo who seduces Jessica Sherman so sweetly that his intentions are always mysterious. The mother, the glorious Eva Foote, is the villain but she is a fragile gargoyle, we understand and relate to her. Everyone gets an explanatory back story of sorts, the real villain is the times and misogyny. When the male ensemble ejaculate their anger at "New Women," we see their blindness and fear as comic. The women's wistful longing for something other than their lot is achingly acute. However the sexuality is all subtext, communicated in gesture and dance, and when the 11 o'clock number launches into a satirical, rousing 'order is restored' happy ending number—"children will listen to their mothers, mothers will listen to their men"—Kelly v Kelly promises to blossom into high camp. Alas no, the creators care too much for the characters, the little emotional epiphanies are more important than poking the patriarchy. To Foote's credit, her final wordless, resigned reveal is devastating.

The ensemble is exemplary, singing in flawless layered harmonies and moving in lock step. Despite flashbacks and a sprawling set, we always know where we are in time and place. And with seven triple threats playing multiple characters, there is a surprisingly complete absence of confusion. The addition of some charming winks at the fourth wall to drive the plot and transitions is giddy gold. All of the ensemble get to make impressions without upstaging the leads. Joel Cumber (Pinocchio) gets laughs as the toady lawyer who reveals a powerhouse voice. Margaret Thompson (Evil Dead the Musical) does ditzy and glamorous with delightful comic eye rolls. Mike Jackson is the stolid rich-voiced symbol of male dominance and Julia McLellan incarnates the anger and passion the mother and daughter aren't allowed to feel. As always, Peter Fernandes (Fifteen Dogs, Rose, A Midsummer Night's Dream, Romeo and Juliet, Love and Information, King Lear, Onegin) glides through some indelibly fleshed characters, a reluctant detective and a second tier, but first rate graceful, tango pirate. 

Musicals in development are always in flux and I'm going to believe that Kelly v Kelly will get the 11 o'clock number it deserves. But do not underestimate the sheer joy, the intoxicating power, of its current version.