Things I Know to be True
Written by Andrew Bovell and directed by Philip Riccio. Until Feb. 19 at the CAA Theatre, 651 Yonge St. mirvish.com or 1-800-461-3333
What a difference some strong direction and a capable cast can make. Take “Things I Know to be True.”
When I first saw Andrew Bovell’s family drama about two parents and their four adult children, each at a point of crisis, it felt like a contrived kitchen-sink melodrama wallowing in histrionic excess. That 2017 British production was so overacted and overchoreographed that it came off as unmoored and trite. Most crucially, the compelling issues that pile on in Bovell’s play of fraught family relationships failed to land with the audience.
How refreshing, then, to be reacquainted with the work in a new light. As directed by Company Theatre artistic director Philip Riccio, its Canadian premiere at Mirvish’s CAA Theatre is revelatory. In the hands of a skilled cast, led by Canadian theatre titans Tom McCamus and Seana McKenna, the play is surprisingly taut, delivered with gravitas and humour, with the numerous twists and turns landing with biting resonance.
At the heart of Bovell’s sprawling piece are the parents. McCamus’s Bob is a former autoworker who took an early-retirement package during an economic slump. Meanwhile, Fran, played with pathos by McKenna, is a senior nurse whose life is a long series of disappointments and whose hopes now lie in her four adult children.
The play starts rather innocuously with the couple’s youngest child, Rosie (Alanna Bale, illuminating the character with melancholic devastation), detailing in an extended monologue how her heart was broken during a gap-year trip to Europe. As she stands on a train station platform, set to return home, she formulates a list of things she knows to be true. It’s short, she tells the audience, seemingly lost in the chaos of self-discovery. But she knows, or at least believes, that her family will always be an unchanging constant.
Alas, the home she thought she knew is no longer what it was. Following her return, the cracks within the family begin to show, as each of her sibling’s crises breaks like a wave slamming into shore.
The eldest sibling, Pip (Christine Horne), is discontented with her marriage, and prepared to walk out on her husband and children to lead a new life in Vancouver. As for the brothers, Mark (Michael Derworiz) grapples with his gender identity while hotshot businessman Ben (Daniel Maslany) faces serious consequences after embezzling money at work.
If Bob and Fran are the heart of the story, it’s Rosie, however, who is the eyes of the Price household. The piece is presented through her eyes, with her two monologues bookending the play. And even if she rarely speaks, she’s in most scenes, observing from the background as the family she once knew falls apart in front of her.
As the other siblings, Horne, Derworiz and Maslany each deliver nuanced performances. Horne, in particular, offers a gut-wrenching monologue as Pip about her growing discontent.
It’s at this point, about halfway through the first act, that Bovell’s narrative begins to unfurl, revealing the connections between the seemingly disparate characters. Fran remarks how she and Pip are strikingly similar; her daughter is just a stronger version of herself. Largely a story about regret, desire and personal authenticity, the play’s themes echo between characters: Bob and Ben, Rosie and Mark.
The children want desperately to set out on their path of independence, unshackled from the gravitational pull of their family home — their “world,” as both Ben and Pip describe it. This is in contrast with their parents, who dismiss the notion of self-indulgent “happiness” in favour of a life on the well-trodden path: finding a respectable job, working hard, starting a family and retiring in comfort.
This intergenerational tension drives the play along, along with McCamus’s and McKenna’s emotionally affecting performances. Both accomplished Shakespearean actors, they inject a Lear-like fragility and complexity into Bob and Fran, who feel at once helpless and betrayed by their children’s calamities.
Riccio’s production also succeeds because of its pacing. The scenes are thoughtfully grounded and simply staged on Shannon Lea Doyle’s gorgeous set. On one side is the interior of the house and on the other is Bob’s rose garden and shed. The seasonal changes to the garden, creatively depicted by Doyle, effectively show the passage of time.
Though the action takes place in Australia, Riccio and his team have decided to use Canadian accents, a wise choice for the sake of the actors and the audience.
Despite this production’s exceptional directorial clarity, I still have a few issues with Bovell’s play. The drama unfolds rather episodically, with each of the children delivering an extended monologue before a scene with their parents revealing their crisis. And no matter how taut the direction, there’s no denying that the piece indulges in too much dramatic excess, with enough plot twists to fill four separate plays.
At two and a half hours, it’s a long and winding journey, unravelling one family’s complex web of love, desires and regrets. It’s a journey that is nonetheless well worth it, however — at least in the hands of this formidable company.
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