Winnipeg Fringe 2024
One of my favourite things about summers in Winnipeg is the annual Fringe Festival. I love the theatre and the huge variety of independent productions that come through the city each year, so when I was offered a handful of media passes to check out show in exchange for reviews here on the blog, you know I jumped at the opportunity.
In true "Shaner summer" style, I'm barely in town this week and am only able to attend a few actual days of the nine-day long festival, so on Thursday evening I launched into an intense few days of plays, writing, and hanging out in the beer garden.
What follows are the plays I've seen, my thoughts, and recommendations intended to help you make the most out of your Winnipeg Fringe 2024 experience:
Let's dive right in:
Bloodsuckers! The Musical
This play was an intersection of several things I love: the Dracula story, campiness, and musical theatre.
I almost feel like I should end the review there because it kinda tells you all you need to know, but let's dig in a bit deeper: the plot centres around a group of greedy American developers from the Zenith Entertainment Company who travel to Romania to open "Dracula Land" and negotiate the purchase of the land with a Transylvania landholder named Vlad.
(Spoiler alert: he's a vampire!)
This play was cheesy, funny, and incredibly over-the-top in the best way possible. If you're a fan of the Dracula story and want to experience a silly, unique take on the series, then don't miss this one.
(As an aside, I found out today that that this play is an "all dentist musical" and stars the original cast from 2023?! Go off, dentists!)
The Get Laid* Show
We wound up at this show because the performer, V, came up to us as we were sussing out posters outside of The King's Head and told me that she "liked how I pointed at stuff with my feet" which is honestly the best way to find out about a Fringe show.
This one-woman show is, as the name implies, all about helping audience members either get laid (not at the show, obviously), wind up on a date with someone in the crowd, or at least take a quirky, hilarious romp through topics like honesty and sexuality when it comes to sex and dating and get a high five out of it in the end.
This performance is very audience-centric, with V often stating "this show is about YOU" and asking questions of the crowd in order to explore our relationships with sex, vulnerability, and each other. It's hilarious and weird, but also extremely charming and very moving. I teared up at the end and was extremely impressed with the way V wrapped things up. Definitely a must-see!
Burns and Allen: Comedy Duo
This play is, as the name implies, a loving tribute to vaudeville legends George Burns and Gracie Allen as written and performed by Winnipeg's own iconic improv actors Caity Curtis (who wrote it) and her partner Stephen Sim.
Though a similar version of this tribute ran at Fringe a few years back, this year's performance features updated scenes and new takes on classics from the original performance. I loved Stephen's monologues as George Burns, and Caity's delivery as Gracie Allen was absolutely spot-on both in terms of comedic timing, as well as her delivery of Gracie's "illogic logic".
The performance takes us through George and Gracie's history as as performers, their relationship as a married couple, and their transition from vaudeville, to radio, to their iconic TV show which ran for almost 300 episodes and heavily featured shout-outs to show sponsor Carnation Evaporated Milk.
With improv, classic scenes like a hilarious adaptation of Abbot and Costello's "Who's on First" (featuring hockey references for us Canucks) and a little bit of audience participation, this performance is one of the best Fringe shows I've ever seen, full stop.
Moms! Moms! Moms!
Moms Moms Moms is a whirlwind tour through motherhood's ups and downs and twists and turns, as told through stories, comedy, burlesque, and even a little crowd participation talent show, over a very tall and much-deserved glass of wine.
Comedians DD Brassiere (Tits Up) and Your Mom Kathy (Chubrub) are spot on and taking no shit as they "shine a light on the complexities and contradictions of motherhood", and to use the term of the summer, are fully embracing their brat era as badass moms.
Celebrate mothers getting loud and reclaiming the attention and joy they deserve at the Prairie Theatre Exchange's Colin Jackson Studio Theatre (Venue 17) and catch a heartfelt show you don't want to miss.
40 Below
This play was a recommendation from our friend Sara who works at The Yellow Dog (shout out to YD!) and I’m so glad we took her up on her reco!
The play centres around two Winnipeg Transit drivers on the #16 bus on New Year’s Eve and a revolving cast of characters who get on and off the bus as midnight approaches.
The play was a moving and poignant exploration of regret and forgiveness, and was phenomenally well-acted, especially by the actor who portrayed Murdock, an older transit driver approaching retirement who just got back on the job after having surgery.
I’ve been taking Winnipeg Transit my whole life so this play really hit home. I’m really glad we caught it and can’t recommend it enough.
The D&D Improv Show
The D&D show is a “must-see” for me every year, and not just because I know a handful of the performers (shout out to Jeremy whose performance as The Inspector totally stole the show!)
This show is exactly what it sounds like: every night is another chapter in the campaign, so no two shows are alike. It’s weird, hilarious, and quirky and you’re guaranteed to laugh until your face hurts.
Don't play D&D? Don't worry about it! The show explains how the game works at the start of every show, and the way it's played is like a stripped-down version of the game itself so it's easy to follow along. There's always a Dungeon Master (DM) who narrates what's going on, moves characters around a map that's projected on the back of the stage, and explains what's happening at the outset of each scene so the improv actors know what to do.
There's a reason why this show is one of the most popular shows at each year's Fringe, so if you're able to make it out to a show before the season ends, make sure you do.
(Just make sure to book your tickets in advance since the shows almost always sell out!)
Porn & Pinochet
“Porn & Pinochet” is a one-man show written and performed by Andy Cañete, and is a hilarious and bittersweet exploration of growing up between cultures.
Born in Chile, Cañete moved to Canada with his family as a child and then back to dictator Pinochet's Chile again at the age of 13. Even if you're not from an immigrant family, Cañete's stories about family dynamics, growing up and feeling like the cool (or uncool) kid in class, losing your virginity, are all delivered in ways that arte deeply relatable — even if you did have access to porn growing up.
The play explores cultural differences, complicated family dynamics, soccer (football), all with wit and humility and an ending that made me tear up at the end. Definitely check it out if you can!
Neurohilarity: Exposed
“Neurohilarity: Exposed” is a collection of local comedians sharing gritty and hilarious stories exploring their neurodiverse experiences.
Hosted by our friend Carole Cunningham, the show also features comedians Danielle Kayahara, Scott Koropas, Adam Schwartz, Rollin Penner and Kaitlynn Brightnose (who I’ve seen before and is side-splitting funny).
The performers shared embarrassing, vulnerable, and hilarious stories about being neurodivergent, all the while dealing with a near-constant interruption by an alarm going off in the parkade across the street (shout out to sexy firefighters!)
Even if you don’t have a neurodivergent diagnosis, you’ll definitely get something out of this show, so don’t miss it!
Doctor Caligari's Cabaret Around the Sun
I’ve often described this show as a “Fringe performance for Fringe performers”.
It’s always at the same time (midnight) towards the end of Fringe, and is a series of skits and short performances… and that’s all I’m going to say about it.
It’s another “must see” for me every year because you never know what to expect, and I can guarantee that you’ll laugh your face off (I know I did).
But really, you just had to be there.
A big thanks to the Winnipeg Fringe Festival for the opportunity to review some plays and get the most out of the Fringe experience this year!
Weekend at Kermie’s
Diet Croak
Snoop Frog
Morse Toad
Croaking Device
Croak and Dagger
The Toad Less Travelled By
Betty Croaker
Every Day is A Winding Toad
Toadhouse Blues
Toadal Recall
Antoady Hopkins
Frog Ferdinand
Toadplay
Toadal Eclipse of The Heart
Notorious F.R.O.G.
Engelbert Hopperdink
Swamp Thing
Marsh Madness
Bill and Toad’s Excellent Adventure
Weekend at Kermie’s (post title)
Oh Frogger Where Art Thou?
Raising Caintoad
Raging Bullfrog
Toadsore
Froggy Mandel
Antoadio Banderas
Frog Hat
Dennis Hopper
On The Toad Again
Toadal Wave
Croakanole
The Ides of Marsh
The Marshurian Candidate
Marsh Antoady & Cleopatra
San Antoadio, CA
Toady Hawk
Toady Soprano
Take Me Home, Country Toads
Toady McGuire
Michael Croaken
Jeff Toadblum
A Croaken Black Guy
Steel Ribbits
Ribbit a New One
Joseph Gordon Ribbit
Ribbit Maida
Ribbit Smith
Ribbit and Blues
A Ribbit Runs Through It
Cry Me a Ribbet
Lilypad James
Humphrey Frogart
Seven Years in Ribbet
Froggert DeNiro
The Frog of Eternal Stench
Walton Froggins
Froggle Rock
Froggy Mercury
Ribbit Nation
Ribbit of The Night
The Frogman Cometh
Ribbit is A Dancer
Up in Croak
Croak on The Water
Marshiavelli
En frogçais
Under the Ribbet of Death
Frog and Coaking in Las Vegas
Croak and A Prayer
The Man With a Croaking Gun
Croakio Story
Citizen Canetoad
Frogger of The Bride
Frogger’s Day
Frogger Time
Mary Hoppins
The Frogger, The Son, and The Holy Ghost
Jean Croakchien
Frog and Doug McKenzie
Frog Burgundy
Barney Ribbit
Frog Flintstone
Frog in The Machine
On the porch at night
It’s late and I’m the only one up on the block
sitting on my steps
feeling the wind through my hair
ruffling my housecoat
everyone is asleep.
I can feel the calm from
the other houses, rooms, beds
but I don’t feel it.
My body buzzes
with tragedy
veins burning inside of me
my heart thumping in my chest
eyes that blink back tears for someone I’ve never known
will never know
who will never get to grow up
who won’t ever have the chance to know this complicated chaos.
In the Garden
I wake among orchids and lilies
whose petals cover my face like hands
my mouth full of dirt, wet and sweet
pebbles in my mouth like lies.
I walk, I talk, I move through a thick fog
of everyone's weighted dissatisfactions
dragging
tangling at my feet and twisting at my ankles
losing myself on the path.
I trip and fall and can't get up.
I lie and listen to the songbirds in the trees
their chip-chirp tunes that should whittle at me
"Pull yourself together"
"Get your shit in order"
"Stop being a burden"
but I don't bleed. Maybe I can't.
Maybe I am a stone in the garden
covered in damp moss on my North side
cold and hard and empty on the South
with nothing in-between.
I lie in a millstone where I grind at myself
words turn to ash in my mouth
dust of intention slips through my fingers.
I am becoming a fine powder you can wash or wipe away.
I feel it still
It rained today. I found out when I opened my windows to get my laundry and it was wetter than when I'd hung it out to dry the day before
(I should have checked the forecast. My bad.)
I worked
I made tea
I ate tinned sardines on toast
debating whether or not to go out, listening to the sound of the rain and the whistling of the wind through the palm tree in the square in front of my apartment for a clue.
In the early afternoon I pulled on my raincoat and boots and ventured out, skipping over puddles and dodging rainfalls from the heavy, sagging canopies.
I made my way downtown slowly, ducking into doorways and avoiding the streets where the wind made the rain sleet down sideways into my face and hair and into my shoes.
I planned to visit the Contemporary Art Museum but it was closed when I arrived.
Or rather, closing
"for lunch" said the security guard who caught me on my way in as I was pulling on one of the glass doors
"we reopen at 3" he said
so I had a coffee
went to the mall
bought a romper
killed time
until I popped out on the other side of the mall at 3:03 PM, just in time.
But the rain had picked up again, drenching my feet and hands and legs up to my thighs and pooling in the fabric of my umbrella
so I walked back to Alfama in the squish-squish of my soggy feet
listening to the shrieks of other pedestrians when the wind slapped them in the face
or when a car roared by and splashed them from head to toe.
"I need to go to the market" I thought, realizing that I'd be huddling inside my apartment for the night and punched "mercado" into Google Maps to figure out the closest place to go.
The app brought up a store five minutes away and I jumped over puddles and stayed back from intersections and listened to the foreign voices swearing and shrieking as we navigated the grey landscape of the city.
The store was close to where I'm staying, down by the river where the wind was so strong I couldn't open my umbrella and walked face-first into the onslaught of rain and wind.
I got turned around and nearly walked into the Ministry of Finance and thought I was going to get yelled at by the security guards who seemed as confused about where I was going as I was.
But one of the soldiers spoke English and walked me through the centuries-old building
(which isn't open to the public)
so he could get me closer to the pedestrian crosswalk that connected one side of the street to the metro station where the store was.
(Which wasn't where Google Maps said it was, by the way.)
As I waited for the light to change the French tourists around me shrieked
MERDE
and
CALISSE DE TABARNAK DE FUCK DE MERDE DE FUCK
and I laughed as the wind nearly swept us off our feet as we waited to cross.
But back in my apartment
with my fruit
and bread
and cheese, and wine
I peeled off my layers
drenched raincoat
soggy shoes and socks
sweater and tank top and leggings soaked from the rain
and sat in front of my space heater in my underwear eating mackerel patê
thinking that I was glad that I didn't wear my jeans today.
Lisbon, day one
Yesterday after 10+ hours in the air and two airports I landed in Lisbon.
Sweaty, tired
(I barely slept on the plane)
I stumbled, bleary-eyed, out of the airport and made my way to the metro where I stumbled through several "voçe fala iglés?" to get my Navigante (transit) pass for the next two weeks.
I dragged my fala (suitcase) down the metro stairs and caught the red line, then the blue line, through Santa Sebastian and to Santa Apolonia
where I walked until I found the Museu do Fado
(Faso Museum)
and parked myself in the square to grab a bite and kill some time.
The restaurant had a name that I forget
but a dish of seared octopus in peppers and vinegar that went perfectly with grilled toast that will live in my mind forever.
I sat and sipped water, then a glass of local white wine, and watched the scenery
couples checking their phones to figure out where they're going
groups of travellers debating day trips
(should we go to Sintra? Or Porto? What about Cascais though?!)
old Portuguese men chain-smoking and yelling at each other
(everyone here yells and I fit right in)
people trying to bum smokes and cigarettes
(the hand motions for "cigarette" and "lighter" transcend language)
and soaking up the heat and the smell of the Tagus river
and way the fresh water that mixes with the salt of the ocean.
At 3 PM I checked into a tiny two-bedroom apartment
overlooking a little square with a huge tree in the middle where people set up stands to sell ginjinha
(traditional Portuguese brandy)
and yelling at passers-by
(everyone yells here, I told you)
and up the flights of stairs is my flat that's so old that the electricity is routed through copper pipes sticking out of the walls.
I showered and packed up my purse and camera and made my way to the Praça do Comércio
the big, old square down by the water surrounded by bright yellow buildings
where people took selfies
buskers sung "Can't Help Falling in Love" and "I Say a Little Prayer"
and kids and their parents played with the waves as the tide came in.
I wandered around Alfama, taking photos and picking up snippets of conversation in my (very) broken Portuguese
eating pastel de nata and sipping a tiny glass of port
getting lost in the stairs and streets and back lanes of the city
soaking up the din of the city before picking up some wine, tinned fish, and fresh fruit from a tiny merdaco (shop) to have for breakfasts while I'm here
before crashing out at 8 PM.
(Told you I was tired.)
All the white horses are still in bed
It's Tuesday evening and I'm warming up from walking to the store.
Winter has settled in after months of mild weather and my nose, fingers, and toes feel it as soon as I step outside.
Soon it'll be -40 like usual and I'll be barricaded inside my house, cozy with our radiant heat and blankets and multiple cups of tea.
It's been a good day. I submitted a proposal, booked a discovery coffee with a potential client, took a few meetings and wrapped a strategy consulting session with a small business we've been supporting.
I have cheques to cash and emails to send to my new bookkeeper.
More proposals to send out this week and onboarding a new client to start on next week.
The business feels good; the kind of steady chaos that makes me feel invigorated and excited when I roll out of bed in the morning
though it's hard to wake up at my usual time when it's dark out so I've been sleeping in a bit
(I've convinced myself that summer is the time for early mornings while winter's the time for long, late nights and quiet mood lighting.)
I read an article today about different kinds of teams; how larger businesses split up different groups to tackle tasks and how they work independently and in lockstep with each other
(stuff that's boring to most people but fascinates me for some reason)
and tonight I'll finish a book about haenyeo which are female divers from the Korean island of Jeju. The book is called The Island of Sea Women and I'm obsessed with it.
The book is a piece of historical fiction about the haenyeo's practices how they're fading with time and modernization
(which is a trend that seems to be effecting everywhere these days)
but the parts that interest me the most are the scenes that describe diving in frigid waters, finding different sea creatures and knowing how to feel the water, the tides, the pull of the ocean and knowing how to stay safe
all while managing temperatures that would cause hypothermia in most people, including (according to researchers who come to the island) basically every other group of humans who live in unusually cold climates.
Maybe it's because I grew up and live in a place where it's been known to get colder than the surface of Mars, but I don't mind the cold most of the time and I'm not surprised that it turned out that women on Jeju were the ones who were able to withstand the freezing temperatures
(females are strong as hell, after all)
even though this woman is a wuss who bundles up in 597586482 layers to walk to the G-damn grocery store in broad daylight.
Bye 2023, hi 2024
It's 2024 and a new year and I feel like I should have something profound to say here but I don't, really.
Life's good. Better than it was this time last year, at least.
This time last year I was prepping for Asia which but we were dealing with the falling-out of a friendship — one in a long line of 'em from the same social circle — except this one was more... personal? Hurtful?
I guess you could call it that.
We used to be friends with a couple and the husband kept getting wasted and groping me (including sucking on my face while I was sleeping) and when we asked that he go to AA or to therapy his wife called me, screamed at me, and told me I was a "bad friend" for saying that I wasn't comfortable being around him if he wasn't gonna take his behaviour seriously.
I've never been on the receiving end of victim-blaming for sexual assault before and it was a confusing and stressful time and we're not friends anymore as a result of it.
That's the TL;DR version, anyway.
Maybe I'll write about that in more detail here someday but today's not that day.
Today's about the new year. I have no set travel plans yet which compared to last year when we went away for 3 months to SE Asia feels weird and like there's a gap in my life
but at the same time it feels like a relief. Last year I travelled to:
Thailand
Cambodia
Vietnam
Japan
Baltimore
D.C.
and Toronto
which were all wonderful but the push-pull of prepping to leave and catching up upon getting back was A LOT to manage. I felt like I was always playing catch-up in my own life and not being in that tidal pull of Going Away and Coming Back has felt
like a relief, honestly.
Last year was hard in a lot of ways. My business has a lot of ups and downs which were amplified by my Going Away and Coming Back all the time, plus friend stuff mentioned above, plus general life stuff makes it hard to put a pin on 2023.
Was it a Good Year, a Bad Year, or something in-between?
I guess it was a mix of all three. Lots of emotional rollercoasters and stress but a lot if great experiences, too.
We hosted our friends from Japan and had our friends from Mexico stay with us
we lost two friends, sure, but we also gained a lot and reconnected with several who'd fallen away
we accomplished a lot and John and I became closer as a couple and as a team
we saw so much and I ate, danced, and sang my way through cities and countries I'd never been to before
my business grew and succeeded despite setbacks and my stressing about it WAY more than I should have
and I read a shit-ton of books and made a shit-ton of art.
I guess you could say that 2023 was pretty good despite some hiccups and a few losses here and there, which is more than what most people could ask for I suppose.
Fingers crossed that the new year has more good stuff in store.
On the porch at midnight
I’m on my porch
the only light on a dark block
everyone’s asleep
but me.
I’m sitting here, thinking of you
and you, and you, and you
the seasons we shared
the ways we populated
the seasons of each other’s lives.
Pulled each other up
nurtured our roots
or let them anguish
or over-tended
or put in effort in when
things were rotten from the start.
I breathe in
the empty night into my too-full heart
and remember
who I used to be
when we met
when we met
when
we met
the days, long gone now
years and years
entire lifetimes ago.
Nobody tells you when you’re young that everybody changes.
Or maybe they
do but we think
we won’t
we’ll stay
the same
friends forever.
Lovers for always.
Nothing changes until it does.
Someone told me once that you can’t take everyone with you and I didn’t believe them
Ubers pass on the street over
and I wonder if you’re in one
but you’re not
so I leave the lights on for you
and I make my way to bed
alone
but just for the moment.
Sunset
I'm standing outside in my leather jacket with the mink fur collar
watching my breath leave my body as the moon rises over the river
and the lights starting to turn on in St Boniface Hospital
vignettes of births, deaths, heartbreak and hope
reflected on water that's getting darker.
It's been a while since I've been here, thought of you
remembered the feeling and fleeting way that your smile
made me feel
my hand stuffed in your pocket for warmth
our prints mixing with the rabbits and deer and the geese and the crows in the snow
while the cross on top of the hospital glows like a beacon.
