Angelique: magical and disturbing
7 Apr 2019

by Drew Rowsome - Photos by Andrew Alexander

Overflowing with poetic metaphor and striking visuals, Angelique is a magical piece of theatre tackling a deeply disturbing story. The fire in Montreal and the torture and hanging of the slave Marie Josephine Angelique, is a dark moment in Canadian history and Angelique not only recreates that history but shows just how far we haven't come. The play by Lorena Gale dates from 1995 but could have been written yesterday, the themes and outrage are timeless.

Director Mike Payette fuses dance, mime and a lot of theatrical savvy to stress this is an important story. The SIXTRUM Percussion Ensemble are placed above the stage on a solidly ominous catwalk. From there they complement, contradict and comment on the action as a wordless Greek chorus. As a prologue has outlined the basics of Angelique's fate, the percussive chorus also provides tension - just when are the drums going to begin driving the action to a frenzy? 

Gale's text uses the metaphor of snow and the duality of the concept of light and dark, black and white, as a differential. But it is the daily degradations, the dehumanization, that provide the shocking content of Angelique - not because they are underlined or designed to horrify, because they are so casual. As Angelique struggles to discover her humanity and express it, the audience can't help but be appalled by the concept of a person as property. We know it is a historical, even contemporary, reality, but it is unsettling and nasty to see it in action.

Jenny Brizard has played Angelique before in Howard Davis's film C'est Moi. This Angelique is earthier and requires Brizard to traverse a multitude of emotions both extreme and suppressed. Brizard, a dancer who has worked with Cirque du Soleil, is not only physically expressive but also handles stretches of poetic monologue with mesmerizing skill. France Rolland as the wife of the slave owner (yes, there are a few bonus women's rights moments) has the same seething emotional journey that is just barely held in check. She is terribly sad and ultimately terrifying.

Karl Graboshas is the oblivious slave owner who buys Angelique simply - "Do you know what it is to be flush. To say I want that?" - as a possession conveying status. His sexual abuse of Angelique, which sets the plot in motion, is chilling in its callousness and a stylized bit with a corset conjures puppetry, bondage and inhumanity in one simple flourish. Angelique is also paired with Cesar mainly so the whites can "study the mating rituals of the Africans in captivity" and "the sexual prowess of the African male" which is "legendary." Omari Newton is a very sympathetic Cesar, a stolid strong presence with his anger and shame confined to his eyes. He embodies the trope of the noble wise black man while undercutting it with an expression of his own anguish and needs.

Of course Angelique thinks she finds love with the indentured, and there is a difference, French Canadian hunk Claude, played by French Canadian hunk Olivier Lamarche. Their flirtations and eventual romance is a breath of fresh air amid the overwhelming gloom, but Claude is a dreamer full of false promises and we all know where that leads. The ensemble, also including PJ Prudat and Chip Chuipka, only take on roles beside their main character in one scene where Angelique is tried and judged. As the multitude of witnesses grow more and more outlandish and spout hearsay and gossip, the individuals are nicely defined. Unfortunately the main characters have been so indelibly etched that it is hard to make the leap intended. But perhaps that is the point. The poison is at home and only spreads.

The sense of fate or the crushing force of history and inhumanity, is compounded not only by the scaffolding for the percussionists, but also by a rolling slab of wood whose actually meaning is obtuse but which is a beautiful effect. The white characters dress in contemporary clothing and regress to costumes appropriate to the 1700s, Angelique and Cesar move sartorially in the opposite direction. There are anachronistic references that are superfluous, in a time of Black Lives Matter and a racist US president, the parallel is already obvious and disheartening.

Aside from the main narrative and theme, there are many details in Angelique that surface afterwards. Details that add to and enhance the production and its effect. Snow falling from the percussionists and the perfection, joy and drudgery of clean white sheets. Brizard's face contorted in ecstasy or agony or the climactic combination of both. Lamarche using an axe to help him climb to Angelique's attic loft or plucking a snowflake from the sky. The wooden clap that resounds whenever the word "negress" is spoken. Angelique is an immersive piece of theatre that creates magic around our disturbing history and present.