 Who are you, and where might audiences have seen you before?
I am Alex Alejandria, a husband and father who enjoys being part of tribes that form with every theatrical production. There haven’t been so many shows that I couldn’t name them all and so I shall. The first was Oliver in the Philippines where I played the titular character. The first in Canada, in Windsor, was Jesus Christ Superstar where I was Annas, a priest. I’ve done this role twice, 15 years apart. Next was the Captain of the Inquisition in Man Of La Mancha. After that was the first of three Joseph And The Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat productions where I played Judah (Benjamin Calypso) in the first two. I was the Lion in The Wizard Of Oz where I met Matt Froese - a castmate here - 14 years ago. Next came Miss Saigon at the Cleary where I played the bar-owner in Bangkok. After the second Joseph/Dreamcoat, my first show with my daughter Sadie, I was Schroeder in You’re A Good Man, Charlie Brown. Next came Mr. Stride and a newsboy in Jekyll And Hyde, and then I was an Irish priest in The Best Christmas Pageant Ever, my second show with Sadie. The King And I came next where I met Michael Potter in my third show with Sadie. Next came Shrek The Musical (King, Duloc guard, Grumpy the elf) with Sadie as young Shrek, then Sweeney Todd (Mr Fogg, ensemble), then Fiddler On The Roof, as a Russian thug. I played a pirate in Korda’s Peter Pan(to) to Sadie's Nana the dog. I was Bart Simpson in Mr Burns - A Post Electric Play, and then once again Annas the priest in Jesus Christ Superstar at the Chrysler Theatre last year. My most recent was as Miss Beginagin in Annie Of Green Gables Get Your Gun, the most recent Korda panto where Sadie was stage manager. That’s all of them, and now this. Stop Kiss is my first non-singing role and Sadie's second as a stage manager. You've played a diverse range of roles, clearly. What can you tell us about Detective Cole and how he fits into the story and themes of Stop Kiss? Detective Cole is the character written to set up the environment in which the later (even-numbered) scenes take place. His conversations with Callie hint at the culmination of the flirtation and budding friendship happening between Callie and Sara in the scenes preceding his. He is not unsympathetic but his job requires a certain coldness and “just the facts, ma’am” demeanor. He is annoyed that Callie is not more forthcoming but he is aware that she thinks he will prejudge her relationship with Sara when she herself is not sure what that is yet. I modeled the performance of his character on Detective Marcus Bell in the TV series Elementary. One of the major themes of Stop Kiss is that love can take various forms, not all of which are recognized even by the people who are experiencing them. What do you hope audiences learn from this play about love? That love really is where you find it. Another good example, which to me has some parallels with Callie and Sara, is the story of how the comedian Tig Notaro met her love. Now, neither Callie and Sara identify as lesbians but that is not the point. Ms Notaro’s wife is heterosexual. A deep friendship was struck and there was no grand seduction per se. She fell in love with Tig because of the person she is and she couldn’t bear to be apart from her. And such is love. There is an openness to serendipity in your example that really seems to resonate with what we see in Stop Kiss. If you were asked WHY someone should see this play, how would you answer? You should see this play because of its novelty. The device (if that’s the proper term) used is one that requires intellectual time-travel, with an accompanying see-saw of emotions where you see a fresh budding unconventional romance (for those who must have conventions) interrupted by a not-so-inconceivable nor uncommon tragedy, and then enduring friendship which manifests in acts of unspoken commitment and what must truly be love. The way the actors perform all of the above is so casually real that one feels like the proverbial fly on the wall as it unfolds. I don’t get the title yet though. I look forward to that moment. Photo by The Headshot Company
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 AUSTIN (Joey Wright)
“There’s nothing real down here, Lee! Least of all me!” Imagine growing up with an older brother who seems to be better than you in every way, at least in your father’s eyes. How do you distinguish yourself? How do you crawl out of his shadow? Well . . . maybe there’s a way to show people you’re actually better than him. Austin devoted his life to succeeding by the standards of the New West. He attended an elite Ivy League university on the east coast, far from his childhood home. He got married and started a family. Austin became the New West’s capitalistic Protestant ideal: the diligent, educated, workaholic who drives and consumes and reproduces. So, Austin fits in. Or does he? Does all of his work and sacrifice matter? Is he really accepted? Does he really want to be? Austin’s relationship with Saul Kimmer shows that maybe all he’s done is turn himself into a useful tool for others, an object without dignity. That hurts, because Austin is Abel – the obedient son of his figurative New West father, Saul, whose favour he seeks, who represents the mainstream success and acceptance that Austin craves. What else does he have? He’s already rejected his biological father, and with him, the Old West. We come to learn that Austin is neither as stuffy nor as satisfied as he appears to be – even to himself. He knows that he’s supposed to be grateful for the life he has, but he isn’t. He knows he’s done everything he can to be “normal”, but he still doesn’t feel it. Increasingly, fitting in feels like a trap. The façade of normality is beginning to crack and behind it Austin sees what he’s really worked to become: artificial. Austin sees his future in his mother, though he isn’t quite ready to admit that. His relationship with his mother is psychologically distant, as opposed to the physically distant relationship with his father. She exists to fill a role, which she plays dutifully. And he plays his role in relation to her. But they have no deep connection, just a shared history and a shared script. She has fully embraced the artificiality demanded by the New West, and Austin finds himself falling into her routine domesticity, playing her role, when Lee is around. So Lee’s presence forces Austin to confront himself with what he really wants, to face the deep ambivalence that’s been eating away at his soul. He resents Lee for being like his father, for not fitting in, for his criminality, for being an outsider. But he envies Lee for the same reasons. Lee has an authenticity and freedom that appeals to his deepest nature. About JOEY WRIGHT Joey Wright is thrilled to be making his Post Productions debut as Austin in True West. For the last five years Joey has been performing on stage and behind the scenes, most recently as Ed in Evil Dead: The Musical. Other recent roles include Herdsman in God Of Ecstasy, Roderigo in Othello, Euelpides in The Birds, Padme in Star Warped, and Man in Hard Hearts. He has had the opportunity to work with some of Windsor's finest artists and cannot begin to explain the importance of everyone's role in local theater – though if you ask him, he will try. (Photo credit: Martin Ouellette of Churchwood Pictures, with Kieran Potter)  LEE (Dylan MacDonald)
“What they don’t know is that each one of ‘em is afraid, see. Each one separately thinks he’s the only one that’s afraid.” Is Lee just an out-of-touch drifter and petty criminal, or is he something more? When we first meet him, we know him only in the broadest strokes, through the eyes of his brother, Austin: a bit of a hobo, someone who rejected the new west for the Old, living out on the desert, making occasional forays into suburbs to steal appliances. A drunk whose life, whose coiled, ready-to-pounce being, welcomes and accepts violence. He's cunning. But maybe not smart. In True West, Sam Shepard examines, among other themes, the “American Dream,” as played out in a far-flung suburb, 50 miles east of LA--the interstice between the Old West of the desert and the New West of Hollywood. The American Dream explored here is, of course, an illusion, or in the case of Austin and Lee, a delusion. While a younger Austin imagined Lee as a desperado, swashbuckling through adventures, Lee pictured Austin dashing through the quad of his Ivy League school, arms filled with books, chased by blondes. Both men had the same dreams about themselves. And found reality wanting. As the play opens we know immediately that Lee and Austin have been estranged for some time, that their relationship is complicated and broken. Lee resents Austin for being more conventionally successful, the younger brother who sold out to society’s expectations, who gave in to its demands to have a family and career. Austin reminds Lee of their mother, who he sees as shallow and inauthentic, a robot controlled by convention with no inner life of her own. But once Lee and Austin start talking to each other – really talking – we see there’s much more to Lee than we and Austin have assumed. Take the quotation above, from the story that’s been stirring inside Lee’s mind for God knows how long. To think of Lee in the terms we’ve used – criminal, drunk, drifter – is to think of him through the lens of the New West. But what if we think of Lee on his own terms, through the lens of the Old West? If we do that, Lee is a free spirit who has – to some degree consciously, to some degree unconsciously – rejected the norms and expectations of his mother, of the “civilized” world, and opted instead to follow his father’s path – with some trepidation and regret. The suburbs of his youth, and the apparent inauthenticity of his family, repulse him. But he’s also drawn, still, to the safety, security and acceptance that they represent. Yet Lee also envies Austin, who has managed to succeed on society’s terms and thus avoid the rejection that drove Lee away. There’s a security and comfort to Austin’s life that Lee wishes he could have. And Austin has managed to succeed, in some way, as an artist – even if he had to sell out to do so. Lee’s artistic impulses and ambitions, on the other hand, have led to failure, perhaps because he can’t adapt to the demands of commerce, because he’s unable to bring himself to sell out. And maybe because he doesn’t have Austin’s work ethic. Fundamentally, though, Lee’s Achilles heel is the same romanticism – the devotion to authenticity and freedom – that leads others find him so magnetic. His principles are entwined with his regrets. He’s a tragic figure, a comic figure and, most of all, a real human being. About DYLAN MACDONALD Dylan MacDonald is a local actor trained by The Second City (Toronto) as an improviser. Recent film and TV credits include Chase in Seek (Splice Productions), Ray Chapman in Curious and Unusual Deaths (Discovery Channel), Blane in Nara (Splice Productions), and Gerry in Leaving Town (Mimetic Productions). His favourite theatrical credits include Vince in Tape, Bassanio in Merchant of Venice, Bobby in American Buffalo, Lucentio in Taming of the Shrew and Spike in Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike. In addition to acting with various companies, and performing sketch comedy and improv, Dylan has recently ventured into teaching the art of acting by creating the company MacDonald Acting Studios in association with LAFA and Fusion Talent Agency. (Photo credit: Martin Ouellette of Churchwood Pictures, with Kieran Potter)  About SAUL
“You’ve really managed to capture something this time.” Saul, a Hollywood producer, offers this morsel to Austin, a screenwriter desperate for his big break, and Austin gobbles it up. But how long will it sustain him? How long has Austin been getting by on these crumbs of encouragement from Saul? How many other writers waiting for their big break does Saul have on a string? You never really know a producer, but Saul Kimmer isn’t hiding. He’s sincere in his embrace of inauthenticity and about who he is: the very embodiment of New West norms. Saul lives and breathes commercial values, commercial expectations. The New West is his world. He likes it. He’s good at it. In the New West art is a commodity. Maybe it always was. Or maybe it's just a matter of degree. As Saul tells Austin's brother, Lee, "In this business we make movies, American movies. Leave the films to the French." There’s a paternalism to Saul’s relationship with Austin – and, eventually, Lee – that influences the brothers more than most. Their father, The Old Man, the abstract representation of the Old West, is absent, physically and psychologically. And he has rejected his sons. Saul, to Austin and Lee, is a new kind of father figure, one imbued with hopes of acceptance, even though neither Austin nor Lee is fully comfortable with the New West to which he belongs. Just as there is ambivalence between Austin and Lee, there’s ambivalence between the brothers and Saul. They simultaneously want his approval and stand ready to reject it. Even in those who have embraced, and who thrive in, the New West, there is a sense that something’s missing. There is a yearning for an authenticity, for artistic spirit, that can’t survive in their world. So when Saul meets Lee – an untamed, romantic figure, someone who wears authenticity like an open wound – he’s drawn to him. Lee is something of a relief and a shock to Saul, fascinating and alien, magnetic because he represents something Saul hasn’t really encountered before. Someone who seems to have stepped out of the heat haze of the Old West. Saul’s world – Hollywood, the New West mecca of artificiality – doesn’t include people like Lee. Does it include Austin? About IAN D. LOFT Ian D. Loft is very pleased to be portraying Saul in his first theatrical endeavour with Post Productions. Not a novice to local theatre, he has performed in shows with Theatre Windsor, Korda and Ghost Light Players. His past performances include Bob Cratchit in A Christmas Carol, Max Smart in Get Smart, Father Mulcahy in MASH, Grumio in Taming of the Shrew, Montano in Othello, Selsdon Mowbray in Noises Off, and Peter Quince in A Midsummers Night’s Dream. (Photo credit: Martin Ouellette of Churchwood Pictures, with Kieran Potter)  About MOM
“That’s a savage thing to do.” Mom is genuine. She has become what society tells her she should be, and wants what society tells her she should want. This is who she has been for a long time. The love she feels for her sons is the love demanded by the role in which she’s cast, and for her model she’s taken the artifice of Hollywood, the New West. It is a sort of love without genuine connection. Psychologically, Mom has been distant from her sons for a long time, maybe their whole lives. Until recently, she’s been physically distant from them as well. She and her sons don’t really know each other; she knows the roles they’re supposed to play, and the role she’s supposed to play in relation to them. So Mom represents the consequences of becoming part of the New West – the world of conformity, illusion, commerce, respectability, and artificiality. She’s created a sitcom home and wants a sitcom life. She’s a nice person, sure. She likes to travel. She likes a clean, antiseptic, well-ordered house. She even likes art, maybe. At least she knows the names of some famous artists. What’s the price of belonging to the New West? Mom moves through her life as if in a dream. She’s medicated, passive, barely living by Lee’s standards. Maybe she’s gotten worse over time. Maybe the New West holds you down and gradually suffocates the life out of you. This is what Lee sees when Mom suddenly appears, and it causes him to wonder whether she is what Austin is becoming. And if Lee is becoming Austin, is this his future as well? Absurd, surrealist, powerless – the introduction of Mom in True West creates a contrast that brings all of Shepard’s themes into clear focus. An alien to her sons, who are alien to her. And now an alien even in her own home, as the New West is violently destroyed by the Old West’s re-introduction. About CINDY PASTORIUS Cindy Pastorius is thrilled to be playing the very anesthetized Mom in her first show with Post Productions. A 15-year theatre veteran on and behind the stage, her previous roles include Frances in Jenny's House of Joy, Ghost of Christmas Present in Scrooge and Marley: A Christmas Carol, the Bank Examiner in It's A Wonderful Life, and chorus roles in Les Miserables, Aida, and Annie. (Photo credit: Martin Ouellette of Churchwood Pictures, with Kieran Potter) |
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