The minds and voices behind Complex Numbers.

by Holly Gordon

Monday night was a full one for Fringe. Missing a chance to get tickets to the sold-out opening of Fruitcake: Ten Commandments from the Psyche Ward, I just managed to get tickets to the similarly full Every Story Ever Told and Complex Numbers. The rest of the week is going to warrant stake-outs, it seems ― you’ve been forewarned.

Every Story Ever Told, Monster Theatre

Ryan Gladstone is a funny man. He’s billing this Fringe production as his “retirement” show (not sure about the truth of that), and as he couldn’t decide what to write about, Gladstone came to the conclusion he would write every story ever told.

The first two-thirds of the play are hilarious. Gladstone flies through War and Peace (all four books, plus the epilogue), whipping off Russian family names and short but sweet imitations of each character. Then there’s Lord of the Rings ― “Basically, there’s this town of shorties,” ― The Epic of Gilgamesh, Grimm’s Cinderella, and Great Expectations. All five Rocky films make the cut, as do various CSIs, Law and Order spin-offs, references to Scientology and the first Die Hard film.

Gladstone combines his slightly pompous ease on stage with stand-up, mime and spot-on storytelling physicality, communicating with the audience whilst keeping count of how many stories he’s told so far (John Hughes’ movies, collectively, added a lot of clicks to the counter).

The last third of the play leads to audience participation-improv time, and that, sadly, is where things die. Gladstone asks for audience input to create a story with him, choosing the theme, characters and plot through voting and random yelling from the theatre. In Monday night’s case, we were given the story of Diane the vegetarian fox and Adolf Chipler, a Nazi chipmunk out to ruin Diane, and humanity, for a reason I still don’t get.

Gladstone’s previous momentum and comic form lost its cadence, gaining a foothold here and there when suggestions, and his own massaging of the improv material, had a workable edge. When Gladstone was in charge of the material, I was right there with him; when we were in charge of it, I was ready for the play to be over.

Every Story Ever Told has comic genius behind it, but the last 20 minutes are likely to be a bit of a snore.

Complex Numbers, Silent Quemb Productions

Having heard many good things about both writer Nadine Thornhill (Oreo) and director Ken Godmere, it was with a trace of disappointment that I left Complex Numbers’ full house Monday night.

Fiona (Stephanie Halin) and Alex (J.P. Chartier) are in a monogamous marriage, until Fiona realizes she has a crush on coworker Dan (Tim Anderson). Fiona eventually confesses her crush to the ever-rational Alex who, because of a cheating mother and unhappy family relationships, decides it’s better for them to have an open, honest marriage. The two go through counseling and learn the ground rules of a polyamorous relationship, complete with worksheets and quotes from a handbook.

The premise of exploring an open marriage could make for interesting theatre, but throughout Complex Numbers it feels like we’re only ever scratching the surface. The audience discovers near the beginning of the play that Fiona is dating Dan, and flashbacks “reveal” how that happened for the duration of Complex Numbers. The flashbacks feel unnecessary, as the interesting part of the play isn't entirely how they got there, but how Fiona and Alex lovingly function after getting there.

Alex comes across as too perfect, and too accepting for a man who didn’t originally sign up for this. Fiona is a walking basket case of hormones, it seems, and while both Halin and Chartier work well together on stage ― and look like they’re enjoying themselves ― it doesn’t gloss over the fact that sometimes it feels like everyone’s simply going through the motions for the sake of saying things like “clit block” and “vagina beer goggles.” Funny, yes, but if it doesn’t get us any further than dirty laughs in a play concerning a very real situation, then it feels slightly pointless.

Fiona and Dan's boss, Maggie (played by Ellen Manchee), makes for some of the more solid comic moments, placing her hypochondriac self into awkward situations and refusing to make them any less awkward. The facilitator of Fiona and Alex’s counselling session, played by Jenn Keay, also makes an interesting imposition as the rule-maker; she only appears behind a sheer curtain and under spotlight, and her presence worked well.

Having said all of this, Monday night’s full house sounded like they loved everything, from the dirty jokes to Dan’s dancing (which was awkwardly hilarious). Maybe Fringe plays can stand solely on clit block vs. cock block jokes, but in Complex Numbers’ case, the talent involved can certainly deliver more.