Diego Matamoros and Kristen Thomson in Soulpepper's The Guardsman

It’s no surprise that Hungarian playwright Ferenc Molnar‘s popular tale, which premiered in Budapest in 1910, was translated and has been embraced by the English theatre. The story of disguising a character to test a lover’s fidelity is a familiar one, employed in many a performance from classic mythology to Shakespeare.

In Molnar’s hands, the story becomes that of a married couple whose blissful happiness is tainted by jealousy to the point where the husband goes to ridiculous lengths to woo his wife while dressed as an ardent soldier. The question is: does she see through his disguise and play along or is she really willing to start an extra-marital affair?

To exaggerate the emotions, Molnar’s characters are Nandor, an actor (played with petulant perfection by Soulpepper artistic director, Albert Schulz) and his wife of only six months, Ilona, a much-feted actress (played by Kristen Thomson). Thomson handles the secretive and somewhat shrill diva with elegance and her actions at the end leave the plot outcome amusingly open-ended.

Supporting characters in this production are strong without over-acting, especially Diego Maramoros as the sardonic critic and confidante and Dawn Greenhalgh as Ilona’s dresser and mother-figure.

Hungarian director and Soulpepper regular Laszlo Marton moves the action along with skill and grace, never stepping over the line into all-out farce with too much physical comedy. His interpretation still delivered roars of delight from the audience as the identity of the guardsman was revealed to his wife.

The set by Camellia Koo is cleverly transformed from an elegant house to the anteroom behind the box seats at the opera with the deft use of a few curtains. This isn’t the first Molnar play that Soulpepper has produced; The Play’s the Thing was mounted in 2003. Obviously the marriage of Molnar wit and Soulpepper ability is not a relationship that needs to be tested, and the result is fidelity from the audiences. Go and see this production.

Photo courtesy Soulpepper, by Cylla von Tiedemann.

Eric Peterson in Soulpepper's Billy Bishop Goes To War

Although it’s been over 30 years since Billy Bishop Goes to War debuted in 1978, the play continues to fit perfectly, delivering the timeless message of the bloody cost of survival. Written and composed by John Gray with actor Eric Peterson, the play is the story of Billy Bishop from Owen Sound, Ontario, who joins the Royal Air Force during World War I and goes on to become the most decorated Canadian of the war.

The play itself has become one of the most celebrated of Canadian theatrical productions, with a production on Broadway and a touring show that included London’s West End and the Edinburgh Festival.

Like a suit that has been altered regularly, this production has been tailored over the years so that it remains as sharp as the pleats on a uniform. The new production depicts Bishop (played with irascible perfection by Peterson) as an old man reflecting on his glory and the horror of war. At the beginning, a pyjama-clad Peterson is slumped in an armchair. As the play unfolds, he leaps to life, recounting nights in muddy trenches (before he joined the RAF) and friends lost to shell fire.

Peterson populates the stage with a host of vividly-drawn characters, from the simpering recruiting officer to the condescending English butler and the pouting French chanteuse. By turns he sashays, struts and soars, at one point standing on the piano to describe a frightening air battle.

Director Ted Dykstra has kept the pacing and physical comedy varied and fast enough to engage the audience right to the end.

Set design by Camellia Koo is minimal with just a few old trunks and a dressmaker’s dummy to hold the momentos on one side of the stage and John Gray’s vintage piano on the other.

The result is a more powerful production that allows the audience an intimacy without distraction from special effects. The emphasis is where it ought to be with strong writing and music to play to the imagination. Gray’s lyrics capture the naivete of the young recruits (we’re off the fight the Hun and it looks like lots of fun) and the music hall style of wartime entertainment.

Since the duo has been performing Billy Bishop for so long, the performance doesn’t seem as much rehearsed as second nature. It remains a parade-ready example of the finest in Canadian theatre, a great national story superbly told.

Photo courtesy Soulpepper, by Cylla von Tiedemann.