- Penny Plain by Ronnie Burkett, a Rink-A-Dink Inc./Ronnie Burkett Theatre of Marionettes production at the Cultch to Dec. 17. Box office: 604-251-1363.
THERE'S a scene towards the end of Ronnie Burkett's Penny Plain that imagines the reunion of puppet maker Geppetto with his prodigy/progeny Pinocchio.
Outside of Penny Plain's insular boarding house an evolving pandemic has killed hundreds of millions. The banks have crashed, looting is endemic, the U.S. is forcibly sending young women to China as debt brides and cannibalism may be the only way to survive.
"Dad, the world's gone mad," Pino tells Geppetto. "No one wants to see a puppet show now."
It's exactly the right time, responds Geppetto/Burkett.
Burkett may well be right. If we could work out the world's troubles by play in a sandbox while learning to get along, the world would have fewer troubles. Failing that, this adult (no children under 14 admitted) marionette play should be compulsory viewing for all world leaders.
Like all of Burkett's plays, the craftsmanship in Penny Plain in terms of creation and operation is superb. It's a jaw-dropping performance too. Burkett voices all of his characters while operating them, so it's essentially a 100minute one-man play performed with constant distraction. If you have never seen Burkett perform, you should go. It's all truly amazing, despite the following criticism.
The problem with Penny Plain is that Burkett, ultimately, doesn't go beyond portraying the decay of civilization and waiting for the Apocalypse. If he offers any hope at all, it is that nature is adaptive and life will continue - it just won't be human as we know it now.
That's depressing: both in terms of his play's message and what becomes a somewhat stagnant plot.
Nature slowly reclaims Penny's world, but is a force - not a character - in the play. Penny accepts what is happening from the beginning and doesn't fight it. That gives us a central character who is not in conflict and doesn't change. The best she can offer is the occasional wry or understanding observation.
It's not like Burkett doesn't understand what he's doing. Penny is blind for heaven's sake. But if she is a metaphor for civilization, she doesn't represent me.
In that regard at least, Burkett populates Penny's boarding house with a wide variety of guests and visitors that represent wildly varying degrees of passivity and aggressiveness. Perhaps among their varied responses to the same set of outside factors, we can all find someone to relate to.
Among these detailed and fascinating creations are the two dogs and a young girl who interview to replace Penny's
companion, Geoffrey: a hound dog with British accent who wants, while he still can, to experience life as a man instead of life as man's best friend. Their scenes are the best in the play and left me feeling there was more to explore upon Geoffrey's return near the end of the play.
In between times, we meet the characters mentioned above as well as a cross-dressing bank teller committed to his customers; a couple of brashly aggressive American stereotypes - the Tittys! - Elvis and Barbie dressed in camo gear; a scatological old lady and her murderously angry daughter/caregiver who yell at each other for their entire scenes. Ultimately, their noise became so unbearable, I couldn't wait for one to kill the other.
Then there is Evelyn. She whose name, contracted, be-
comes Eve, wants Geppetto the puppet-maker to make her a baby. Because Evelyn's story moves forward and Penny's does not, perhaps we should know more of Evelyn's back story than Penny's.
While Burkett's plot line left me wanting more, Penny Plain is still a challenging theatrical experience from one of Canada's great artists. Burkett is only here every two or three years, so this opportunity should not be missed.
