The Best Laid Plans: A Musical’s politics lack bite

    1 of 2 2 of 2

      Based on the novel by Terry Fallis. Book by Vern Thiessen. Music and lyrics by Benjamin Elliott and Anton Lipovetsky. Coproduced by Touchstone Theatre and Patrick Street Productions. At the York Theatre on Saturday, September 19. Continues until October 3

      It’s boring, it doesn’t make sense, and it’s not funny. Well, bits are funny—but not many.

      The Best Laid Plans: A Musical is based on Terry Fallis’s popular novel of the same name. The story is about a crusty old Scot named Angus, who agrees to stand as a Liberal candidate in a riding in which he’s bound to lose. What do you think? Does he win? If you can answer that question, you can skip Act 1 of the musical, which spends an hour setting up the inevitable.

      The central character is a Liberal speechwriter named Daniel, who wants out of Ottawa. Because of some vague obligation to the party, Daniel becomes Angus’s campaign manager. But what is that obligation, exactly? And, deep down, what does Daniel want? There’s some witless material about writing the great Canadian novel. And at times, it seems that Daniel craves power or fame at any price—although access to either looks unlikely. Rather than Daniel’s goals shaping the narrative, they shift according to the whims of an ill-focused plot. Even his new girlfriend notices the lack of definition in his character. “So one day you’re this super nice, funny, smart guy,” she says to him. “And the next, you’re an asshole.” Exactly.

      Although The Best Laid Plans: A Musical is set in a political milieu and it’s being presented during an election campaign, it’s politically toothless. The one exception is the TV ad run by Angus’s main opponent, the incumbent Conservative, who exploits his wife’s death to promote his family-values agenda: “When she died,” he sings, “I cried. Never went outside.”

      There’s a dreadful number, “Cumberland Hymn”, which ridicules the elderly: actors in white wigs feign palsy as they limp through their choreography. But the sexual politics of the play are surprisingly progressive. Vern Thiessen, who wrote the book, has changed two of Angus’s campaign workers from punk rockers into gender-queer activists. Although Thiessen’s treatment of these figures—Kris and Qris—teases dangerously at first, it’s ultimately embracing. And Kris and Qris get to sing the poppy “Binary World”, one of the coolest songs in the score, which was written by Benjamin Elliott and Anton Lipovetsky.

      “Stand Up” is a rousing rocker. And the parodies of Drake, Leonard Cohen, and Céline Dion in “Honest Angus” are wacky fun.

      The biggest pleasure in the evening comes from watching Nick Fontaine, who brings impressively relaxed charm and great vocal chops to his performance as Daniel. Playing Angus, Andrew Wheeler contributes excellent comic timing: he gets as many laughs from his slow burns as he does from his lines. And Gordon Roberts throws himself into the role of the sleazy Conservative candidate with winning abandon.

      The ultimate point of The Best Laid Plans: A Musical is that it would be great if our politicians had more integrity. Fair enough. But a more sharply focused vehicle would allow that point to achieve some depth.

      Comments