Fringe reviews #9: You tread on the boards. If you strut, go to Act IV

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 20/07/2025 (441 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

THE BALLAD OF BOBLIN THE GOBLIN (A DND MUSICAL)

Work Hard Play Bard Theatre

Gas Station Arts Centre (Venue 18), to Saturday

⭐⭐⭐

This new 75-minute show follows the adventures of young Boblin, who is questioning purpose, belonging and destiny to parents whose sincerity might be part of our hero’s biggest challenge.

Co-written by Scott Thompson and Leif Ingebrigtsen, this animated odyssey is vigorously and often humorously propelled by strong voices and performances. It starts in a dungeon and sings and dances its way through a bar, campsites, caves and a couple of bloody crime scenes. Full props for the costumes — especially the truly terrifying, glancingly lit, killing beast — and to the red fabric scraps that viscerally illustrate disembowellings.

However, a few of the lines, both spoken and sung, feel rushed, and the shifts from humour to Boblin’s life lessons to horrific murder sometimes feel jagged — not least, perhaps, to one dad in the audience, putting his arm around his eight-ish-year-old seatmate (though in fairness, the show does include parental guidance about violence).

— Denise Duguay

BRAIN MACHINE

Andrew Bailey

The Rachel Browne Theatre (Venue 8), to Saturday

⭐⭐⭐⭐ ½

“Rape is hilarious — when it happens to dudes.” So begins Andrew Bailey’s 2013 satirical and viral monologue about society’s double standards when it comes to sexual assault against men.

While this monologue — or rather its background and fallout — figures into the one-hour Brain Machine, the show is much more than a review of the B.C.-based Bailey’s greatest Internet hits.

Vannevar Bush’s utopian ideas about non-linear branching networks or “associative trails”; Douglas Engelbart’s pioneering work in applying these ideas to developing the early Internet; the more dystopian realities of how social media networks and online dialogue actually work — all of these are run together through Bailey’s own creative associations, which are often hilarious.

Bailey has something of David Foster Wallace’s taste for blending technical and pop culture references and for non sequiturs that eventually reveal a bigger whole — only he’s warmer, more audience-friendly and just a little more glib.

Most importantly, he’s a natural storyteller. Some strangers can talk and talk — and miraculously we want to listen. The nerdy, unassuming Bailey is one of those rare types.

— Conrad Sweatman

DEBBIE LOVES BUMBLEBEE

Sour Candy Comedy

RRC Polytech (Venue 11), to Sunday

⭐⭐⭐ ½

Local performer Bob Banks’ one-man show is one of the most singular Winnipeg fringe experiences this reviewer has ever had. It’s uncomfortable, voyeuristic, captivating.

Banks’ narrative has something to do with memories of his despised, neglectful father, who used drug money to put him through private school. It has more to do with his mother, dying of cancer, whom Banks loves intensely despite her abusive streak.

As capital-T theatre, Debbie’s frankly a bit of a mess. A 30-minute show (not 60) that starts with five minutes of caveats, is interrupted consistently by digressions and tears, and whose ending is so unclear that the performer had to awkwardly clap to instruct us it was over — this won’t be for everyone.

It can seem as if the emotions Banks is tapping into are still so raw he hasn’t figured out how to churn out a polished work of theatre. But the experience is oddly thrilling, not despite, but because of this, bringing to mind the disordered, entrancing verité of Harmony Korine’s early films.

— Conrad Sweatman

THE DND IMPROV SHOW XVI: THE CHOSEN ONE

The DND Improv Show

Gas Station Arts Centre (Venue 18), to Saturday

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

The long-running implication of XVI in the title looked daunting to a one-time Dungeons & Dragons player (long ago, warlock, quickly dead). But fear not. While the majority of the audience are clearly well acquainted with all things D&D unfolding onstage, there is not one moment of confusion or exclusion. That even as the third night’s hour-long show started where the second had ended, as per the progressive structure employed by this fast-thinking and ferociously talented local troupe.

The basics: there’s a chosen one, potential best friends Corn Chip and Onion, a princess, a hapless protector, a horned demon, a witch, somebody named Bean Dip and fan favourite Menno-Knight.

Credit especially to dungeon-master Jesse Miki (co-writer with Sam McLean) for calling the action and rolling the giant dice from one battle challenge to the next.

The only criticism? As vocal as they are, the audience could be even more involved in challenging the performers, who appear to thrive on it, spinning even brief stumbles into shinier gold.

— Denise Duguay

HEART RIPPED OUT TWICE AND SO CAN YOU

Linnea Bond

MTC Up the Alley (Venue 2), to Saturday

⭐⭐⭐⭐

You’re the mark in a sketchy sales pitch.

You can’t trust a salesman with a plastic smile like Linnea Bond’s persona, whom she plays with the officious zeal of Laura Linney in shows like The Truman Show or Ozark.

And the product is dubious: existence itself. Or rather, existence as a theatre performer facing a malignant sort of triple threat: cancer, heart surgery and a lover who might not stick by your side through it all. We quickly tune into the fact that the life on sale is some version of Bond’s.

Her maniacal sales persona — trotting out vagina and tumour costumes and drenching almost every line in caustic satire — offers the consolation of gallows humour. The Philadelphia-based performer is clearly a pro, but after nearly an hour this controlled, sarcastic act can feel expressively limited, a little one-note even.

But Bond ultimately creates moments of sincere vulnerability, convincing herself that this dubious product, life, is worth it after all.

— Conrad Sweatman

HOCKEY NIGHT AT THE PUCK & PICKLE PUB

RibbitRePublic Theatre 2

King’s Head Pub (Venue 14), to Sunday

⭐⭐⭐⭐

A pair of men who could never forget Al Iafrate’s skullet, a couple of retired hockey moms united by synchronized cigarette exhales, and a duet of battle-tested nonagenarians who remember when the red line was what came dripping from a broken nose.

These are just six of the characters joining Canadian fringe vets Jon Paterson and Ryan Gladstone in the Puck and Pickle Pub to watch the gold medal game between Canada and the United States.

Remounted roughly every four years as a topical reflection of us and them, Hockey Night is a regulation-length comedic vision of imagined countries with shared goals in mind. The laughs come faster than Dit Clapper’s slapper, often inside the actors’ broadcast booth, where Chris Cuthbert (Paterson) repeatedly puts Kelly Hrudy (Gladstone) in his place.

As much about the game as the people we watch it with, Hockey Night is enriched by its barroom setting, where one is inspired to look around and consider which of the barstool commentators are Claudes, Matthews, Colleens or Lindas.

— Ben Waldman

WIT AND WRATH: THE LIFE & TIMES OF DOROTHY PARKER

MissClaudiaPresents

Planetarium Auditorium (Venue 9), to Sunday

⭐⭐⭐⭐ ½

New Orleans’s Claudia Baumgarten doesn’t just play the singular American poet, writer and critic in this 75-minute biographical dramedy. She positively channels her.

Martini in hand, Baumgarten, who also wrote this show, takes us through Parker’s dazzling biography, often in her subject’s own wry, witty and oh-so-quotable wisecracks. Baumgarten’s so dry and droll that sometimes one forgets she’s not actually Mrs. Parker. She even bears a slight resemblance to the woman who once owned a poodle named Cliché.

But it’s not all laughs, of course. Baumgarten explores the shades of grey in Parker’s colourful life — the multiple marriages, the boozing, the suicide attempts, the self doubt — to create a layered portrait of a complicated woman.

As a performer, Baumgarten is understated; she’s sometimes overwhelmed by too-loud music cues that go on too long. But it’s also her subtlety that makes her performance so compelling. Time has made Parker a larger-than-life literary figure. Baumgarten reminds us she was real.

— Jen Zoratti

THE LIST: A TRAUMADY ABOUT PROBIOTIC MASCULINITY

Conseil Keith Serry

Son of Warehouse (Venue 5), to Saturday

⭐⭐⭐⭐

It starts as a tale about a young man hitchhiking in Quebec with a sexist “f—k boi.”

But things soon double back as its narrator, Montreal-based Keith Serry, recounts his checkered childhood and tribulations in choosing between being a “good man” and “the man.”

Serry, who’s appeared on PBS Stories From the Stage, is a strong storyteller.

Nevertheless, halfway through the hour-long show, one might start wondering where Serry’s exercise in tortured masculinity is going. He despises his working-class Scottish father, recalls with embarrassment being impressed by chauvinist creeps as a young man and talks about panic attacks after sex.

Then a revelation comes like a gut-punch and ups the stakes. A catharsis that reminds us of how potent theatre-as-therapy can be.

— Conrad Sweatman

YOU’RE GOOD FOR NOTHING… I’LL MILK THE COW MYSELF

Natacha Ruck

Théâtre Cercle Molière (Venue 3), to Friday

⭐⭐ ½

French-born Natacha Ruck’s 60-minute one-woman storytelling show is billed as “hilarious, shocking and zany.” It’s actually a mildly amusing series of anecdotes, mostly about the women in her family, strung together without sufficient throughline or high enough stakes to be dramatically satisfying. (The “shocking” likely refers to her mother’s propensity for violence, which Ruck doesn’t quite succeed in making quirky/lovable.)

Ruck effectively adjusts her mannerisms and voice to portray multiple characters — chic, chain-smoking Maman, wise-cracking father, imperious Belgian Mamie — but the occasions when she flips rapidly between them in conversation are jarring.

Her accent is an imperative part of the performance, but occasionally it leads to mispronunciations that ruin a punchline, and her delivery is halting, with awkward pauses that makes it seem as if she isn’t fully au fait with her material. However, the conclusion is filled with grace; one wishes for more of these moments.

— Jill Wilson

YOU’VE BEEN SERVED

Pushy Productions

Planetarium Auditorium (Venue 9), to Saturday

⭐⭐⭐ ½

Noemi is served divorce papers on top of a garbage bin while she’s taking out the trash — and that’s just the first post-split indignity she suffers.

Written and performed by San Francisco’s Noemi Zeigler, this slapstick dramedy follows our delightfully delusional gal’s unhinged journey back to herself after a lifetime of pinning her entire self esteem on the validation of others.

It’s a well-written show, full of perceptive, funny and sometimes heartbreaking details about suddenly finding yourself alone at midlife, such as Noemi’s admission that she thinks she has to entertain and joke to “trick” people into loving her. But while the comedy here is tight, the more serious moments are almost played too big; more contrast might help them pack a more emotional punch.

Still, Ziegler is a charming stage presence — and she can sing, too.

— Jen Zoratti