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by Jonathan Wilson, directed by Chris Abraham

Tarragon Theatre, Toronto

April 30-June 2, 2002

"Well, ... What?"

"Well," (the comma is part of the title) is about as iffy as its title.  The story is interesting, the acting varies from good to excellent and the production is clever.  The problem is that playwright Jonathan Wilson has chosen a story with the potential for multiple meanings but has done nothing to bring them out.  Instead, Wilson seems more content to develop the superficial aspects of the tale without plumbing any of its depths.

Willie escapes from a mental health facility in Alberta where he has been for nearly 17 years.  Accompanying him is Charlotte, an imaginary friend about his age that only he can see and talk to.  His one goal is to return to the rural hamlet of Mayfield where he was born.  Seventeen years ago the three-year-old Willie, rather like Baby Jessica in 1987, became a celebrity in Mayfield when he fell head-first down a well.  His plight and subsequent rescue by his uncle Rodeo Ray put Mayfield on the map for the first and so far only time in its uneventful history.  He became a kind of good luck charm for the town and people lined up to touch a person they felt had been "touched by God". 

One of these people was Carol Dawson, now a news reporter for Channel 83 who is contemplating joining the Weather Network where the news would be more exciting than in Mayfield.  She's been having casual sex with her oafish videographer Quentin, who would like Carol to stay with the station and stay with him despite her desire to leave both behind.  When Quentin suggests they do a story for the 20th anniversary of the rescue of Wee Willie, the story they uncover is not as simple as everyone thought.

Wilson compares Willie's rescue to his breach-birth delivery.  His is in the well two days before he is miraculously saved.  His being saved makes the whole town feel saved. He hears voices.  the story competing with his on the news is the birth of a two-headed lamb.  If Wilson had been reading his Joseph Campbell or Northrop Frye, he'd know how much mythic significance there is in such a story.  The fact that none of the things people prayed for when touching Willie ever happened could make the play an interesting commentary on this myth and say something about Canada at the same time. 

Instead far too much of the play's 90 minutes is devoted to the sitcom-like relationship of Carol and Quentin.  The comic writing is strictly hit-and-miss.  The wordplay on the three meanings of "well" soon becomes tiresome.  Wilson allows character about-faces for effect.  And after the dénouement when all is revealed, Wilson tacks on a feel-good finish as if he wanted to back away from the various issues he'd raised.  It doesn't help that the event that precipitates Willie's fall into the well doesn't actually make sense given all we're told.

The production includes a number of fine performances, most notably by Richard McMillan as Rodeo Ray.  Only when he's on stage does the show gain any sense of focus and urgency.  His classical background shows in his ability to show nuances of emotions, anger, discontent, bitterness, beneath the bravado of a short-lived hero now reduced to selling curios and collectibles.

Aaron Willis, a recent graduate of the George Brown Theatre School, gives a very believable portrait of a young man who tries hard combat the trauma of his unusual background in order to seem "normal" but is all-too-conscious of his every failure.  Holly Lewis as Willie's invisible companion makes much of every look and gesture, but for a voice that Willie can't get rid of it is odd that Wilson has given her so little to say. 

Melody A. Johnson is excellent as bringing out the forced sincerity of television newspeople and showing Carol's frustration with her situation.  But when Willie re-enters her life I hoped for more emotion from her and variety in her line delivery.   It doesn't make sense that Carol, who is looking for a story, doesn't realize what a story there is in Willie once she recognizes who he is.  Paul Braunstein is very funny as Quentin, a kind of amiable bear whose brain has been fried by too many drugs.

Director Chris Abraham has shown that he has a knack for bringing out the subtleties in complex works, but in this case he can't be expected to bring out subtleties where there are none.  His direction is clear and with the help of Victoria Wallace's set creates an number of striking visual images.  Wallace's set is a slaty incline behind which various signs and even a bed can suddenly appear.  Glenn Davidson's lighting and John Gzowski music played live supply the aura of mystery that Wilson's words never do.       

"Well," is a pleasant enough entertainment.  It tells its story, hints there is more to it but draws back from exploring these implications in favour of an easy ending.  Until it is revised again, the hesitant title will be all too suitable.

©Christopher Hoile

Note: This review is a Stage Door exclusive.

Photo: Jonathan Wilson. ©2002 Susan King.