REVIEW
Ride the Cyclone
Where: Phoenix Theatre, University of Victoria
When: To Dec. 15
Rating: 3.5 (out of five)
Once again, Victoria has the opportunity to Ride the Cyclone.
The real question: Is this new version of the black comedy musical smoother? Better? Faster?
Well, it鈥檚 certainly different. By my count, last year鈥檚 staging of the Atomic Vaudeville musical at the Belfry Theatre marked the fourth incarnation of Ride the Cyclone. This fifth version, mounted at UVic鈥檚 Phoenix Theatre, has been reworked with an eye to possible future performances in the United States. A Broadway producer was planning to fly in to vet the 2012 model.
Created by Victoria playwright Jacob Richmond and composer Brooke Maxwell, Ride the Cyclone is about a gaggle of teenagers from Uranium, Sask., who perish in a freak roller-coaster accident.
We meet these uniformed high schoolers, touring as a youth choir, in a curious post-life limbo. They鈥檙e still at the carnival, animated as ever and often breaking into song. Their future is dictated by a robotic fortune teller, the mysterious Karnak. Enclosed in an old-fashioned glass case, bearded and with blinking eyes, Karnak plays a strange game with the still-warm deceased, offering the 鈥渨inner鈥� a second shot at life. Exactly how his game works is unclear; however, it does involve questions (points are awarded arbitrarily) and a hypnotically groovy spinning-wheel of destiny.
Karnak, voiced by Carey Wass, has a much larger role than in Ride the Cyclone MK IV. Meanwhile, the self-narrated background stories of the six teens have been trimmed, perhaps because those yarns didn鈥檛 move the action along. Most of the songs remain, although a terrific gospel rave-up, once sung by the big-voiced Rielle Braid (playing Ocean), has been cut.
Ride the Cyclone still has considerable appeal, as Tuesday鈥檚 preview performance for a receptive crowd proved. Maxwell鈥檚 songs, ranging from rap to Kurt Weill-style ballads to girl-group ditties, are terrific.
Kholby Wardell, playing a gay wannabe decadent named Noel, once again knocked it out of the park, dressed in a corset and garters to sing about being 鈥渢hat f--ked up girl.鈥�
This rendition earned cheers, as did Elliott Loran, playing the curiously addled Ricky, belting out Space Age Bachelor Man in metallic silver Ziggy Stardust suit. Cat-costumed actors mincing around him only added to the 眉ber-weirdness.
Some aspects of the show are improved. The beautifully distressed set pieces are much better; they include an antique proscenium arch and a dilapidated bandstand. The latter houses a terrific little combo (expanded from a musical duo) dressed in rat costumes. 聽
One aspect of the show that鈥檚 lost somewhat, or at least dulled, is the notion of transformation. In earlier versions of Ride the Cyclone, each character offered a potted description of his or her small-town life. These tales typically contrasted with their campy, kick-out-the-jams musical performances.
Such dramatic disparities (suggestive of the difference between reality and teen-land fantasy) provided much of Ride the Cyclone鈥檚 appeal.
Because these stories are much trimmed, we now have less of a sense of the characters. When the teens burst into song, it seems less dramatic. And somehow, the overarching storyline is less cohesive.
It鈥檚 possible seeing numerous versions of this show has, for me, dulled its impact a little. It鈥檒l be interesting to see how newcomers to Ride the Cyclone enjoy the ride. Certainly, it鈥檚 still a fast-paced and entertaining romp.
The 100 minutes (no intermission) seem to go by almost in a flash.
It is important to remember, too, that this is a theatre piece in creative transition. As director Britt Small told the audience before Tuesday鈥檚 show, Victoria鈥檚 run is a 鈥渢ry out鈥� before Ride the Cyclone embarks on a Western Canadian tour.
[email protected] version of Ride the Cyclone shifts course
