Vivien Endicott-Douglas. photo: Jeremy Mimnagh
Not Entirely a Review: Stopheart
Tale of Small Town Ontario Hits Awful Close to Home
by Christian Baines
Sometimes a review just doesn’t cut it.
I’ve heard theatre reviews described as acts of violence. Callous, brutal ‘buyers guides’ that reduce acts of countless months, sometimes years of creation to ‘Should I part with fifty bucks or shouldn’t I?’ When I review a work – like many critics, I’d like to think – I try to offer within that review the basis of a discussion. Or at least some contribution to it. But in framing that discussion, I – again, like others – try to maintain a respectful impartiality and distance from the work I’m seeing.
But I can’t pretend to maintain such a distance from Amy Lee Lavoie’s Stopheart. Sure, I can tell you whether I think it’s a well-written piece of work. Well performed (without doubt). Well staged (for the most part). I can needle apart its various shortcomings or vast tracts of irritatingly redundant script in act one. But all seem fairly trivial next to what the play speaks to in broader terms. The desire for affection, from those with the greatest potential to harm us.
This is why it is impossible for me to simply ‘review’ this play impartially, and why those wishing to avoid spoilers should probably stop reading now. Because I need to reveal a very significant plot detail in order to make my thoughts on Stopheart clear.
