The Uncompromising Satire of 'The View From Above'

It's 2012. The Olympics were canceled after a drug-addled Downtown Eastside was carted off to North Vancouver silos in order to make room for a shiny new condo complex. They soon escaped, wreaking havoc upon the North Shore residents. It's also been raining for three years straight, causing Vancouver property values to plummet even faster than the sinking foundations. Did I mention that canned peaches are more valuable than gold, on account of the food crisis?

While the above may sound like any armchair Nostradamus' pessimistic prediction for our city after viewing yesterday's Sun headlines, it's actually the setup for The View from Above, a new work by local playwright James Long. Co-commisioned by The Ruby Slippers Theatre and Theatre la Seizieme, the play has been running since April 12, receiving quite a lot of local attention.

Despite its darkly comic tone, this production is so painfully relevant that it's almost difficult to watch -- but in that good, humanist way. The run at Performance Works on Granville Island only lasts until Sunday, before moving to the Shadbolt Center for the Arts in Burnaby from April 30 - May 3, and is essential for any socially concious Vancouverite or fan of local theater.

Stuart and Marsha are a middle-aged, upper-class North Shore couple who find their home's value and stability sinking as the days go on and the rain accumulates. While his wife stays cooped at home, slowly descending into complete insanity, Stuart scavenges the community for small bits of food; warding off brain-dead junkies while complaining about housing prices and blurting racist stereotypes.

Among the escaped 'twitchers' is Stuart's son Roland. He was abandoned in the silos as punishment for his life as an addict, but now returns home to seek refuge with his girlfriend Trish in the home's collapsing basement. Worth noting is the great set design by Yvan Morissette and crew, presenting a totally believable ruinious North Shore home; half submerged in piles of plastic bags and worth less than a one-bedroom in Surrey.

Aside from a few small falters during our performance, Tom McBeath owned the character of Stuart; selling moments of empathy amongst the inevitable sneers at his convincing portrayal of dethroned Vacnouver alpha-male. Meanwhile, Kyle Rideout shone through the scant character of Roland, making this twitchy, pseudo-recovered, pretty-boy addict pretty darn believable. The women were equally affective, but their performances edged the line of annoyance a little too closely; Karin Konoval entertains with her unrelenting and often nonsensical rants, but they overwhelm the play's more compelling commentary. And Trish's incessant bawling was simply annoying; leaving Donna Soares without any opportunity to add depth to this Eastside enigma.

If there's one word to describe the production, it's unforgiving. Take the wealthy West Van explanation for the non-stop rain: a cloud-seeding explosion of 'junky juices' after the packed Silo's spontaneous combustion. Long's script holds no punches, and soon enough Stuart's concocted a plan to cash-in drug addicts for a better real estate deal. Much of the exposition is delivered in fourth-wall-breaking monologue, a device I was skeptical of at first, but the well written rants were executed with success by the strong cast working under Diane Brown's confident direction.

It's all a little overdone, but that's clearly the vibe that Long has intended; perhaps as an antidote to the overly optimistic attitudes that plague the city? While the situation itself is so darkly amusing, the play is surprisingly short on cheap laughs, settling instead on a tone of sombre dystopian satire. While the satirical-apex of a cannibalistic Sunday dinner feels obvious and overwrought, I doubt I'll see a piece of art that so effectively forces the audience to put the Vancouver 'situation' in such frank perspective; shocking any viewer into careful contemplation at least.

While the concept is brilliant, something in the narrative feels missing. Artistic engagement so often relies on sympathy, and this play lacks any real hero; with each character painted the same shade of Vancouver gray. Stuart is your typical middle-aged upper-class asshole, Marsha's a Kits-mom gone crazy, and Trish is just that strung-out girl we always see mid-street downtown; her plastic-bag bundle 'baby' an unnecessary, confusing device. Roland is the closest we come to genuine empathy, but his history of drug abuse and his current mental state are too glossed to be fully engaging.

It's hard not to gloss some of the narrative when you have this many targets, and the production is so achingly socially aware that it yearns for the label of 'protest play'. Like our favourite protest songs, each lyric or melody may not instantly entertain, each plot element may be left without full embellishment; but together they form a powerful, important statement. In the end, the audience is forced to find sympathy with the situation in Vancouver as a whole. The story doesn't have time for heroism in its plight to expose this city's harmful but often ambiguous attitude about the Downtown Eastside, drug addiction, and the 2010 Olympics.

All criticisms of contrivance aside, I have to firmly recommend "The View From Above". This work has more balls than anything I've seen in the city all year, with more important things to say about the attitudes and actions of Greater Vancouver than you'll find in a weeks worth of headlines. It's natural that a few missteps are made in a piece so daring and immediately relevant. And the missteps are slight; this play succeeds. There's no question that we glean a lot of our beliefs, ideas, and attitudes from the art and entertainment we consume. Here's hoping this final week of performance finds "The View From Above" met with sold-out crowds.

The View From Above shows at Performance Works on Granville Island until April 27th. Details and tickets available online.

Check out the Shadbolt Centre for the Arts for tickets and details on the Burnaby run, from April 30 - May 3.

Photos courtesy of Tim Matheson