Reviewed by James Karas
When
you walked into 918 Bathurst St. Toronto to see Sam Holcroft’s play A
Mirror, you are given a nicely printed white card stating, “Welcome TO
THE WEDDING OF LEYLA AND JOEL.” Leyla (Jonelle Gunderson), the bride, walks down
the aisle solemnly and joins the groom Joel (Paul Smith). The Registrar (Nabil
Traboulsi) begins the wedding ceremony and the bride and groom exchange vows
and we read THE OATH OF ALLEGIANCE written on the back of the Welcome card. It
is not exactly a familiar wedding but we take it for what it is.
The
Best Man (Craig Lauzon) interrupts the proceeding to announce that this is a
sham wedding and is in fact the performance of a play without a license. He invites
people who feel uncomfortable to leave the theatre. One person does.
To
quote Dorothy, we are certainly not in Kansas or any part of the civilized
world. The Oath of Allegiance makes it clear that we are in a totalitarian police
state. The transition away from Kansas is sudden and without explanation but
then we get to the beginning of the play.
The
bride becomes Mei, a diffident secretary
in the ministry of culture. The groom becomes Adem Nariman, an aspiring
playwright who has submitted a play to Celik (Traboulsi) for approval and
production. The wedding party has become the office of a totalitarian police
state. We have a transition from the sham wedding to the office of Celik in the ministry of culture. What
happened to the actors who were putting on an unlicensed play? What play were
they putting on?
Celik
in the same three-piece suit and black gloves that he wore as the wedding
Registrar has turned into an officious and frightful commissar. Adem has been
hauled in for a play that he has submitted for approval not for performing
anything. And Mei works for the ministry. This is confusing.
Celik as the tough censor has a lot to say to Adem about what he considers as appropriate for the stage and wants him to write something optimistic and not something depressing. The state does not want people to be exposed to certain things.
Adem
is defending his writing as realistic and objects to Celik’s censorship. The
playwright is a brave cog in the bureaucratic wheel but he is put under
pressure to comply and compromise in order to survive.
Holcroft
deals with the repressive state with dramatic effects and director Tamara
Vuckovic and the cast bring out the horrors and abuses of totalitarianism. At times
it feels heavy-handed, familiar and perhaps repetitive but it is all there.
Vuckovic
tries to be helpful with the following comments in the program:
What’s so gripping about Sam
Holcroft’s A Mirror is its architecture. The
mirrored structure isn’t a
stylistic flourish—it is the engine of the play.
Scenes return, reframed, and
suddenly what we thought we understood
begins to shift beneath our feet.
Instead of inviting the audience to watch
a story about perception—they
experience their own perceptions being
challenged in real time. Questions
of censorship, authorship, identity, and
the fragile boundary between fiction and reality are
embedded directly in
how the story unfolds.
What I thought I understood may have shifted beneath my feet but I probably did not understand in the first place. I did not feel my perception challenged and the boundary between fiction and reality seemed all too real to be considered fragile.
A Mirror
was presented at 918 Bathurst St. Toronto which looks like a former church that
has been converted into a performing
arts center. There is a raised platform which may have been an altar or a
pulpit but serves just as well as a stage. The set by Nick Blais features sheaths
of flowing white curtain material with a few chairs and other furniture the emphasis
being on white.
__________________
A Mirror by Sam Holdcroft in a production by ARC will run until March 28, 2026, at 918 Bathurst, 918 Bathurst St. Toronto Ontario. arcstage.com
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