drawing memories with the drawer boy

The persistence, and perhaps misuse, of memory seems to be a recurring theme in my fall-going theatre experiences thus far.

It’s interesting timing, considering I’ve recently been back in touch with a childhood friend, and we’ve been busily reminiscing about our youthful misadventures. I didn’t think I was at the age of forgetfulness just yet, but either I’ve been proven wrong, else my friend is pulling a fast one (or several). Then again, there’s always the chance that we both remember the same incidents in different ways.

It’s this difference in perception, between what is and what we perceive to be, that colours Michael Healey’s play The Drawer Boy, now on at Theatre Passe Muraille.

The play revolves around the lives of two brothers, Angus and Morgan, whose quiet rural lives are interrupted by the presence of urbanite Miles, who wants to help around the farm in order to gain material for a play he’s writing. The relationships between the three men are coloured by affection, curiosity, protectivess, jealousy, and a big shovel-full of love.

The Drawer (read, draw-er, not clothing drawer) Boy is a deservedly award-winning play with many touching, lovely moments, and plenty of Cancon to keep the cultural denizens happy. As stories of what’s real and what isn’t dance and intermingle, we see the unfolding of shared experience and vulnerability; in a space as intimate as TPM, there were indeed more than a few moving moments, and, by the end, a few less-than-dry eyes.

With deft and mature direction, Ruth Madoc Jones delicately steers her capable cast away from easy mugging and declaiming. When there is a danger of melodrama, she allows moments to simply be and silences to sit, however uncomfortably. And it’s a testament to the 3 great actors in the piece that they handle it all –and there is a lot to handle –with such confidence, conviction and sincerity. You can almost smell the hay and manure.

Randy Hughson gives a wonderful, compelling performance as the confused, frightened Angus, who is holding on as best he can to what shreds of dignity and remembrance his brother feeds him. Newcomer Frank Cox-O’Connell is delightful as he alternates between lanky confidence and awkward shyness; his Miles is full of city notions, sure, but is also open to learning. O’Connell’s youthful sincerity is a perfect fit. As Morgan, John Jarvis gives a heartbreaking performance as the man behind the myths, the older, dependable brother who needs to feed the same script and stories in order to maintain a sense of normalcy, for both he and his brother.

Noting the unmistakable chemistry between the cast members, and the exploration of bonds between the brothers, I couldn’t help but be reminded of the brother relationship in another play, The Pillowman, now on at Canstage. Once again, there are two brothers, one in a caretaking role, the other in a child-like state of neediness, each entwined in a series of stories and mythologies. The big difference, obviously, is that Healey’s work aims to explore relationships and connections, while McDonagh’s is more interested in art and the act of storytelling for its own ends.

This isn’t to say there aren’t moments questioning the nature of art –and particularly the lines between personal and private - in The Drawer Boy. More than once I thought about the line between theatre and life, the extent to which imitation becomes intrusion, intimacy turns into exploitation. While Healey’s work does raise such questions, it’s left up to the audience to decide what it is and isn’t good for theatre –and thus, for us.

By the end of The Drawer Boy, there is a wonderful sense that theatre is closer to life than we realize –that the worlds of the farm and the play, the city and the country, the farmer and the actor –are not mutually exclusive worlds after all. Theatre is story, and we live our stories, coloured by our perceptions –accurate or not.

Does it matter? Not really.

Is it good theatre? Absolutely.

The Drawer Boy runs at Theatre Passe Muraille until November 18th.
For more information, go to http://passemuraille.on.ca.