Pretty Goblins pretty awesome
Miranda Allen (Lizzie, left) and Nadien Chu (Laura) / Marc Chalifoux Photography
Twin sisters: even in the womb, they reach out to each other, clasping hands. A wondering doctor notes that their hearts are moving to the same beat. They will be born with a closeness that few will ever feel. Innocents floating in an amniotic sea, unknowing of the horrors that will be visited upon them.
The play is Beth Graham’s wrenching new work, Pretty Goblins. It is not one for the faint of heart but for those who venture down her tortured path, the outcome is stunning.
Christina Rosetti was an English poet who penned vivid romantic works. She’s mostly known today for her narrative poem, Goblin Market, a fantasy of sapphic love. Unlike other Victorian female poets, she was not above using overtly sexual imagery and Goblin Market is notable for its almost modern celebration of the biblical “forbidden fruit” – in this case, an erotic love between two females. (Rosetti saw it as a work for children – but that’s another story.)
In the current offering from Workshop West Playwrights’ Theatre, Pretty Goblins offers a new take on Rosetti’s impassioned 150-year-old ode from Edmonton actor/playwright Beth Graham. The prolific Graham has been well represented on local (and international) stages with plays such as The Drowning Girls, Comrades and that neat Victorian horror tale, Victor and Victoria’s Terrifying Tale of Terrible Things.
It might not be a bad idea before you see the play to read the original poem – because, behind all the ripe Victorian metaphors and gingerbread language, is Graham’s play. The playwright has re-imagined Rosetti’s original by giving us two possessed girls, Laura (Nadien Chu) and Lizzie (Miranda Allen), and then ups the ante. They are even more closely than in the original – they are fraternal twins.
Designer Megan Koshka has devised a circular set that has the audience sitting on all sides except the back. The flooring is boards with cracks and lights below that shine up between them – a space where two very young children can watch the inferno that is their alcoholic, demon-ridden mother, come apart every night. In the distance, Jason Kodie’s muffled soundtrack is all half-heard noises and obscure mumbled conversations.
The adult Laura, mature and somewhat conservative, appears in the messy apartment of her free-spirited sister, Lizzie. In a key to Lizzie’s boundless vitality (which is slowly seeping away) a surprised Laura murmurs, “You don’t even have a window.” They fall to remembering their earliest years – their mother howling like a coyote below them. Her madness and howl become a running element in their unfolding tale. Holding hands – they huddle together under a blanket and tell stories. Lizzie fashions a projector that shows the solar system on a blanket. She dreams of becoming an astronaut. Next, they move to the teen years. Laura studies hard and gets the marks. Lizzie discovers kissing games with the boys and then moves up to…
Time goes on and mother dies and father marries again. Although the two sisters are very different, they are inseparable. Metaphorically, Lizzie discovers the Goblin’s forbidden temptations and Laura warns her (in the words of the poem), “We must not look at the Goblin Market. We must not buy their fruit.” But it’s too late for Lizzie.
Words and a bare plot outline cannot convey the depth of emotion expressed by these superb performers. We start off marveling at their craft – creating two believable, very young children and then seamlessly moving through their decades and ages. After a while, you forget the craft and become intimately involved with their lives. Soon, playwright and performers move beyond the simple story, beyond Rosetti’s miasmic world of goblins and forbidden fruit, into a world of primeval emotions that will leave you breathless.
You wonder how these two amazing actors will be able to perform such a feat 6 days a week.
Brian Dooley’s direction is laser focussed on Graham’s shifting emotions and his slow build to a single voice wailing into an unforgiving night will stay with you for a long time.
On the night we saw the production, the play was jointly signed by two very empathetic interpreters for the deaf. The two, Nicole Sander and Andrea Konowalec, did not intrude but turned out to be very capable (wordless) actors themselves.
Pretty Goblins, a new play by Beth Graham, is presented by Workshop West Playwrights’ Theatre in the Backstage Theatre in the Arts Barns through April 29th. Purchase tickets HERE.
