When the Quebec provincial government unveiled its anti-homophobia campaign in March, it received some expected criticism. The series of ads, which run on TV and the web, features images of same-sex couples embracing, followed by questions about comfort levels. Some Quebecers wrote to the government, complaining that they didn’t want their tax dollars going to such projects. The price tag for the five-year campaign is $7.1 million.
Ain’t Misbehavin’ is a Tony award winning show and so you pretty much know that the structure and substance will be terrific. But many people do not know the repertoire of Fats Waller and it is astonishing how many great songs he wrote. The lead song, one of my personal favourites was especially enticing when the whole company sang it as a curtain raiser, and entered from the back as the house as well as the wings, giving the public a multi phonic rendition of this great song.
Starting out like yet another of those triumphant tales about a maverick teacher shepherding some troubled but gifted student towards the sunny uplands of enlightenment, Francoise Ozon’s sprightly and engaging new film, In the House, develops into something altogether more worrying.
The distinction between form and content has wiggled its way into the literary discourse of almost every country. It is an interesting launching pad for ideas because it relies on a neat dichotomy. Form, as it goes, is the shape a piece of writing takes. A neat analogy would be a bottle. The bottle is the form. Whatever you pour into the bottle is content.
It is an important day for the Librairie Paragraphe’s Books and Breakfast this October 20. The beloved literary series will be celebrating its 20th anniversary. But the…
My mother used to say that all literature was like food, some books are like appetizers, some meat and potatoes, and some dessert. The St. Leonard Chronicles were like a great antipasto in a family run restaurant in Little Italy. There was laughter and plenty of it as the young yuppie couple in the play tries to announce that they wish to leave the enclaves of Italian life in St. Leonard and to move to (gasp!) Beaconsfield. There was scandal for spice and finally a few tears to leaven the mix.
Reality is often different than perception. We all have preconceived ideas of just about everything. We’re influenced by our families, social circles, backgrounds and cultures. And then of course there’s the media. Sometimes it can be hard to track where our ideas come from.
For three years, Marci Babineau’s backyard chickens made her the poster girl for the urban chicken movement in Montreal. Media outlets big and small covered the story all the way to Toronto.
According to Steve Larkin, the secret to his success is oxygen. Plenty of it – rushing around other people’s blood. His theory goes like this: If you want people to enjoy themselves they need oxygen. That means opening their mouths a lot, laughing, singing along, moving a bit if you like. At one of his gigs in Winnipeg this summer there was someone dancing naked in the audience by the end of it -“thats probably a bit too much oxygen” he admits.
We are blessed to be living in a city where companies like Table D’Hôte take enormous risks and allow artists to dream in multi- dimensional technicolour. This is not a review. There are people for whom the myths and stories of the Inuit people are irritating or tedious. I am not one of these. Set in a beautifully constructed environment two remarkable performers gave extraordinary performances and I could not help but be deeply moved.
In the early hours of the morning five years ago today, Rover’s first post appeared in cyberspace under Mélanie Grondin’s byline (see image). In the meantime, more than 300 writers have contributed 1968 posts. Are you sitting down? That’s just over a million words.
Radio play without radio play sounds like an impossible contradiction, but it may be Terius Youngdell Nash’s dilemma. Working under the moniker The-Dream, Nash has both…
if Pop Montréal’s objective is to expose viewers to never-before-heard bands, then they did their job this year. I was fortunate enough to catch some lovely surprises on my pinball experience at the fest, in those moments when I finally let go, didn’t plan, and allowed the music keep me in one place for a spell.
This is a well-directed well-acted and beautifully written play. The performance is extraordinary. Sehar Bhojani portrays the lives of three women each of a different generation of Hindu women in a single family. Her ability to evoke tears and laughter is the mark of a fine actor with great skill. Lib Spry directed this with terrific sensitivity and insight. She managed to present the more horrific scenes without the prurience of violence and was nonetheless able to evoke the horrors of war and death brilliantly. Spry was able to work the enormous number of transitions in a smooth and effortless manner.
Lisa Moore returns with a novel that makes good on the accolades she received for February, her 2009 title. Caught opens with a prisoner on the run, David Slaney, a would-be smuggler who escapes from prison on the eve of his 25th birthday. Slaney had been four years into a sentence for spearheading one of the biggest pot-smuggling cases in Canadian history, but now that he’s out, he and his buddy Hearn plan to do it all over again. This time, they won’t get caught.