After Dark - December 7, 2010

By Gaëtan L. Charlebois (Editor-in-Chief) I am astounded by the success of The Charlebois Post after a single week online. I am also enormously thankful to be surrounded by collaborators who like theatre and its people so much. The ideas and the writing here have certainly struck a chord with our readers and with me.

Steve Galluccio's piece, for instance, offers an important lesson: to carve out a good career in this business you not only need talent, you have to work your ass off. But Galluccio's piece also reminds that it's also about how you approach the work (a dinner with a producer is not only good business it can also be pleasant) and moreover, you'd better enjoy the work you do. In our business, we can spot lazy, jaded malcontents a mile off: it shows in sloppiness on the stage, it shows in inelegant PR, in aimless texts and it shows in tired (and ultimately tiresome) reporting. As one professor of mine reminded his theatre students over and over again: it's not called "play" for nothing.

Five (Immediately) Memorable Shows

By Gaëtan L. Charlebois 
As the end of the year approaches it's a wise idea to look back without anger; it helps brace one for what may come in the new year. In that spirit I'm offering a list I invite you to extend with your own "immediately" memorable productions in Montreal English-language theatre.

Woyzeck, Centaur, 1974 
Felix Mirbt and Jean Herbiet's production of the Büchner play was the first performance for which I got in people's faces. I was a first year acting student at John Abbott College and actually did something about getting people to see it: I called Pam Turpin (with whom I later worked in the PR department at Centaur) and asked her if I could get a group discount for other students. She went one better and got us a handful of free tickets. I went for a second time and was hypnotized all over again by this heart-breaking story of a weak man. Decades later, when I saw the exceptional TNM production of the Berg opera based on the play, my mind was still flooded by images of that wondrous Centaur production. (Mirbt/Herbiet followed up with a Dream Play which was nearly as haunting.)

Mosquito Man, 1992
I had gone through an endless drought writing for The Mirror—one hideous production after another—when along came Bruce Smith's moving little play about losers in a bar, one of whom was played—with extreme maturity—by a young Donovan Reiter. They saved my life as a scribe. 

Writer Anthony Palermo Defends (!) Critics

(Ed: Anthony Palermo responded to David Allan King's post and we thought it was so interesting it deserved article status)


I believe the role of the critic has lost its place and the art of criticism has lost its meaning. The critic is just as much a part of any production as the director, the actors, the stage manager and the audience. It’s foolish to reject this notion. 

I think a lot of people shit on critics. They hate them. Personally, I love them. I love them because everyone hates them. Like I love Simon Cowell. The dude is a total prick. But he’s often right for being a prick. I don’t always agree with his opinion but I agree with his ‘way’. He’s got a way of telling it like it is. He’s telling the truth. He’s trying to guide the artist towards or away from the limelight. He definitely wants the talented ones to succeed. And that’s why artists hate critics. Because they hate to hear someone say anything else than ‘that was great’ or ‘you were awesome’. Again, personally, I can’t stand comments like that, they don’t mean anything. 


They work for actors. Actors that crave validation. But it never meant anything to me. If you wanted to say something that I would appreciate: point out a moment that touched you in the play; an action that frightened you or a line that made you think.