An awkward stay at the lake

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 26/04/2019 (2645 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

Winnipeg playwright Jake MacDonald is tapping into a fairly universal Canadian experience with his debut play The Cottage.

Heading out to the catchall location of “the lake” is a longtime tradition for many families; those not lucky enough to have a cabin angle for invitations from those who do.

MacDonald ably captures all the the beauty and the baggage that goes along with sharing a getaway with family, the way the relaxation is balanced by all the work that needs to be done. For every moment spent listening to loons cry or staring up at a sea of stars, there’s another spent fixing the septic tank or hauling the dock out of the water. For every deeply nostalgic attachment, there’s an impulse to take a trip to the dump with all the lumpy furniture and balky appliances.

So his dramedy, which gets its world première as the season-closing work on Royal Manitoba Theatre Centre’s mainstage, has highly relatable material on its side.

Relatability, however, does not necessarily result in art. The Cottage is a kind of theatre of familiarity, where the audience’s reactions come from seeing themselves and their lives portrayed onstage, rather than to any kind of true connection to the characters or exploration of themes.

The conflict at the heart of the story is one many cabin owners will have personally experienced: Ailing elderly mother Eleanor (Jane Burpee) has decided to pass on the family cottage her father built, the scene of countless happy summers, to her three middle-aged children, Randall (Jennifer Lyon), Bennet (Chris Sigurdson) and Matty (Tom Keenan).

Her caveat is that the trio has to hash out a deal on how they’re going to divide their ownership by the end of the Labour Day weekend. The siblings immediately recognize it won’t be as easy as an even three-way split of costs, chores and time: Bennet, a workaholic dentist with two kids, makes the most money, but Randall, who writes for a nature magazine, has the strongest connection. Matty, the youngest, quit his job after a moderate lottery win and doesn’t seem to want to be tied down.

Add in the fact that Bennet’s partner, Kris (Robyn Slade), doesn’t share his passion for the cabin, and Randall’s boyfriend, Fob (Doug McKeag), wants to whisk her away, and you have the potential for character study that’s largely squandered here.

Again, the scenario of unequal partnerships among siblings is highly relatable, but as the less-appealing issues of cottage ownership are raised — taxes, dry rot, mice and family squabbling — audience members with cabins may find their minds drifting to the approaching Victoria Day long weekend and all the tasks awaiting them, rather than focusing on the somewhat scattershot plot.

In the face of such quotidian concerns, the play could have been a giddy, door-slamming farce, or a dark family drama in the vein of August: Osage County; instead, it rests on flat middle ground, puttering along toward a foregone conclusion.

That middle ground has some high points, however. Brian Perchaluk’s stunner of a set drew applause on opening night, and deservedly so. Set on a revolving dais, the white clapboard building with its wooden deck spins to reveal a wood-panelled interior that perfectly emulates the homey cottage esthetic without fetishizing it as kitsch. The worn pull-out coach and plaid blankets, mounted fish trophies and ancient old fridge all have the hallmarks of furnishings that have been around so long, no one even notices how shabby they are.

The local cast is very engaging, even in underwritten roles. As the three siblings, Lyon, Sigurdson and Keenan have a believable rapport that mimics the dynamic in many three-child families, even when those “kids” are grownups.

Cory Wojcik gets the most laughs as another familiar cottage mainstay: the rowdy neighbour. Beer in hand, Brucester is dedicated to living lake life to the fullest; you almost wish the hinted-at hook-up between him and Kris would come to fruition.

But that weird little scene is just one of many that go nowhere or aren’t exploited in service of the story; the play’s momentum is also odd. Though the program indicates the two-hour show has no intermission, it does — falling with a thud at a strange point in the action. The real dramatic conflict, a family blowout where secrets are revealed and harsh words spoken, comes shortly into the second act, so the resolution comes too soon.

Like an old cabin, The Cottage finds a certain level of comfortable enjoyment in its familiar surroundings, but some focused home improvements would really spruce it up.

jill.wilson@freepress.mb.ca

Twitter: @dedaumier