It’s hard to imagine a more dynamic group of actors – all women – sometimes all on the Firehall stage at one time: Diane Brown, Nicola Cavendish, Sereana Malani, Adele Noronha, Laara Sadiq, Colleen Wheeler and Donna Yamamoto.
Under the direction of Roy Surette, recently returned to Â鶹´«Ă˝Ół»after 10 years at The Belfry followed by 10 years at Montreal’s Centaur Theatre, each actor creates a unique, well defined individual. Yet despite the characters’ different histories they have one thing in common: attempted suicide.
The setting is a thousand-dollar-a-day in-patient rehab facility. Set designer Pam Johnson hints at fairly luxurious accommodations with the bedroom into which Samira, “the new girl,” is assigned: an upstage bed with a comfy duvet and behind which, on the wall, is a large, multi-petalled wall hanging. The bedroom eventually serves as the bedroom; the rest of the set, including a couch and TV, looks less homey, more institutional.
Portraying foul-mouthed, bullying Mildred, who was sexually abused in childhood, is Nicola Cavendish and it’s a joy to see her onstage after a hiatus. However, her meltdown – a dramatic highlight of the play – and the subsequent checking herself out of the facility remain a mystery.
Sereana Malani’s Celine, raped twice as a young woman and whose son has been sexually abused, is intelligent and thoughtful but why she reached her tipping point is also unclear. Why would she leave her child motherless? Samira (Adele Noronha), raped five years ago, has no memory of her assailant. Colleen Wheeler’s Rosemary suffers unbearable grief with the breakdown of her marriage and lost custody of her stepson while Laara Sadiq’s character Nina suffers from false pregnancy.
Diane Brown is gossipy, fragile Joyce who admits very late in Act 2 that she is not sad because her marriage failed; her marriage failed because she is sad. By weighting the play the way she has, Sinha implies that sexual abuse and marriage breakdown are the most common reasons women find life no longer worth living. I don’t know if that’s statistically true but the lack of balance weakens the play. Death of a child? Paralyzing injury?
Playwright Sinha builds Happy Place with short, choppy scenes in which frustratingly small pieces of information are offered. In the end, we don’t know as much as we’d like to about these troubled women. What Sinha clearly points out is that techniques for dealing with suicides have a long way to go.
The strongest elements in Happy Place are two sides of the same coin: the support these seven actors give each other to get them through this tough material; and the support the patients offer each other. Even tough, raunchy Mildred offers hope and love to Samira in one of the most touching scenes in the play.
Produced by Touchstone Theatre in association with Ruby Slippers Theatre and Diwali in B.C., Happy Place is not a bleak play. While we may not understand these characters’ motivations, we’re rooting for them. It leaves us with some fears – there’s no guarantee Mildred won’t be back or that Celine will make it – but also glimmers of hope. Â
Happy Place
At the Firehall Arts Centre until Oct. 29.
Tickets from $20 at or 604-689-0926
