War of the worlds

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 10/01/2024 (977 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

When the lights first flicker in alterIndiens, the stage at Théâtre Cercle Molière is bathed in a diffuse purple mist. Then, out from the fog struts Angel — long hair, without a care, ass cheeks bare — strumming an electric guitar like an Anishinaabe John Frusciante.

It’s a grandiose entrance, followed by a stark-naked cartwheel from Étienne Thibeault, whose Angel, a 25-year-old writer, is about to co-host a gathering with his new girlfriend, the much older Corinne (Nadia Verrucci).

It’s their first dinner party, and Corinne — a white professor of Native American literature who wishes Angel would write about “his world” and not outer space — wants it to be perfect.

It’s a normal human desire, but in writer Drew Hayden Taylor’s sparring, sparking send-up and put-down of simplistic sitcoms, it guides viewers toward an overarching theme of selective authorship, the need to control a narrative and to plaster over the uncomfortable subtext of colonial relationships with laugh tracks, eye-rolls and awkward shrugs.

Under the direction of Xavier Huard, translated from English into French by co-star Charles Bender, the production takes the shape of a traditional American sitcom, unspooling to become a more honest, cathartic version of a “very special episode.” Yet rather than simply leaving audiences feeling as though they’ve all learned an important lesson, alterIndiens manages to reveal their naiveté and susceptibility to the voice of a compelling, determined speaker.

Within the territory of the sitcom, Taylor’s script and the talented cast make clear the limitations associated with one-dimensional framing of characters — as fools, as rebels, as magical representatives of entire races or religions — playing with audience expectation and exploring ideals of authenticity in storytelling.

Unlike in Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner, Angel and Corinne aren’t joined by in-laws, instead playing host to Corinne’s friends, the buttoned-up Dave (Bender, nervously ticking) and Michelle (Natalie Tannous, a luminous foil). They’re vegan, and they’ll tell you all about it. The show’s finest comedic bits revolve around Dave and his lust for moose meat.

Soon, Angel’s old cohort, the mischievous Bobby (Xavier Watso, impressive in his professional stage debut) and the wicked smart Yvonne (Lesly Velázquez, snappy and somewhat underutilized) arrive to add spice to the concoction, drumming up Angel’s past as a member of the alterNative Warriors activist group.

Thibeault, who looks a bit too mature to pass for 25, is the man in the middle, forced to shapeshift like a character in the science fiction tales Angel dreams of writing. With the underpinning of alien stories, it’s notable that Angel — a fan of Star Trek, Arthur C. Clarke, and Ursula K. Leguin — is often made to feel by those around him like an extraterrestrial, always floating, never free from the gravitational pull of the two universes he straddles.

“This isn’t your world. You belong with us,” Yvonne tells him.

Elsewhere, Corinne, who is culturally and ethnically, if not religiously, Jewish, advises Angel to position himself as a window “through which the rest of Quebec” can understand his community. Bobby and Yvonne see right through Corinne.

Written in 1998, when it was produced as AlterNatives, Hayden Taylor’s original script is a semi-autobiographical recounting of his experiences as an emerging Ojibway writer. But despite the show’s age, it still rings true, poking holes in the fabric of academia and performative allyship with precision.

Certain elements have been updated to reflect the present moment, including well-placed references to folk singer Buffy Sainte-Marie and Orenda author Joseph Boyden, met with both nervous chortles and pensive chin strokes.

Xavier Mary’s set — a teetering tower of spineless books — is sparse, with no comfortable seating in sight. That decision highlights the tension in the room, and it could be read to be neglectful of “world-building,” with the theatre hardly transformed into a new space.

On the other hand, the fact Corinne’s space is only home to books can be seen as evidence of her own lack of cultural base, a physical metaphor indicating that her foundation is her academic achievements, rather than any meaningful, personal real-world experiences.

Often funny, sometimes profane and consistently thought-provoking, alterIndiens reaches a satisfying denouement, creatively calling into question everything that preceded it.

As Watso’s Bobby says shortly after he arrives, discussing the 1970 bestseller How a People Dies, “It doesn’t matter where the message came from as long as it’s delivered.” Sometimes, it takes a sitcom, not a master’s thesis.

ben.waldman@winnipegfreepress.com