Monthly Archives: April 2025

Radiant Vermin, hilarious and uncomfortable

Rain Matkin and Eli Yaschuk as Jill and Ollie, and Holly Turner as Miss Dee, in Radiant Vermin. Photo by Brianne Jang, BB Collective Photography.

Northern Light Theatre’s theme for their 2024-2025 season was Making a Monster. The first two plays were Trevor Schmidt’s Monstress (a gothic horror in which a Frankenstein-like scientist attempts to reanimate a dead girl but gradually appears to be more monstrous herself) and Penelope Skinner’s Angry Alan, a disturbingly-realistic portrayal of a lonely man drawn into the “men’s rights” misogynistic culture with horrifying consequences.

I was apprehensive but intrigued, to find out how the third play in the season, Philip Ridley’s Radiant Vermin, would fit into this theme. I had some guesses, but they were all wrong. And I loved being surprised. What surprised me most was that it was funny. Very funny.

An exceedingly wholesome-looking young couple, Jill and Ollie (Rain Matkin and Eli Yaschuk), address the audience with their baby, to explain about how they got their dream home and what happened there. When Jill was pregnant, they were living in a dingy flat in a crime-ridden neighbourhood, dreaming of better things for themselves and their little one. Until they get a mysterious letter and an even more mysterious visitor, Miss Dee (Holly Turner), who tells them they’ve been selected by a government department to get a free house. It’s a fixer-upper, but by renovating it they’ll start turning things around for the whole neighbourhood, and everyone will benefit. They see the house and ask about details, and a mythologically-long contract tumbles out of Miss Dee’s handbag. Everything about this screams BAD IDEA to me, from the twinkle in Miss Dee’s eye to the long golden scroll of clauses on the contract, but as soon as they sign, movers are dispatched to their old home and they move in, even before the electricity or hot water are working.

Ollie starts out confident that he can DIY the necessary renovations, but heavily-pregnant Jill is impatient. They’re both unsettled by living in an un-gentrified area. If they can see campfires of homeless people from their bare windows, can the homeless people see their vulnerable candles? Jill explains to us that she has experience of helping her mother provide charity to homeless people – that she and Ollie are good people. But they are still fearful of being targets in their good fortune. Her othering language is a little disturbing, but very familiar. But when an accident happens to a vagrant on their property, they benefit in an unexpected way. And they begin to justify it – their gain helps the neighbourhood, and nobody who mattered was hurt. By this time the characters are fully drawn – Jill’s earnestness and obliviousness, Ollie’s awkwardness and willingness to please his wife – and I felt almost complicit as they wonder about what else they could benefit from. The script builds this complicity in some direct address to the audience on benign topics, such as inviting input on whether to renovate the bathroom or the garage first.

Rain Matkin and Eli Yaschuk as Jill and Ollie, reading the letter offering them a house. Photo by Brianne Jang, BB Collective Photography.

Jill and Ollie’s house gradually gets renovated, according to the wish-list that Jill collects from magazines and catalogues. Upwardly-mobile neighbours gradually move in to the cul-de-sac, and we hear that ground’s been broken for the Never-Enough shopping mall nearby. Once all the houses are occupied, Jill and Ollie throw a garden party to mark their little son’s first birthday, with all the neighbours in attendance – and their facade of contentment and competence begins to fray, in a hilarious recounting.

I was thinking, this can’t end well. But I didn’t predict how!

The empty set (Schmidt) has a nearly-flat backdrop of a white-on-white house outline, with some harshly-shadowing sidelights. Its cleverness isn’t apparent until the show lighting (Larissa Poho) and projections (Matt Schuurman) begin to enhance it. I was fascinated about how the simple “porch” framing was used, along with shifts in light and soundscape (Chris Scott), to represent stepping from an upstairs bedroom into a staircase leading to potential danger.

The script of Radiant Vermin does have some important messages/themes, about envy and about buying in to materialistic wanting-more and about dehumanizing the have-nots, but the messages land with bouffon-esque discomfort at our own complicity. Schmidt’s production is perfectly cast. Holly Turner, most memorable as the eponymous Mary in The Testament of Mary, is hypnotically fascinating here, as the character Miss Dee needs to be, and Matkin and Yaschuk are well-matched, allowing some outrageous events to be natural character choices.

This was one of Northern Light Theatre’s most successful thematic season groupings in my memory, partly because the plays were so different. Each illuminated some facet of the question of how ordinary humans can do evil things. Each left me uncomfortable and wanting to discuss my experience with others. And each made me grateful for the community of theatregoers with whom I can share, both the roomful of audience members laughing and sighing and gasping in the moment, and the ongoing conversations like this.

Before today’s matinee, Trevor Schmidt is hosting a Director’s Circle at 1 pm. At these events, he typically discusses the motivation for choosing the play and some of the design challenges, without giving away anything about the ending. And on Thursday there’s a moderated talkback after the show – more opportunities to join in the conversation.

Trevor Schmidt and Holly Turner in a candid moment at the opening-night reception for Radiant Vermin.

Radiant Vermin continues at the Arts Barns Studio until May 3, with tickets here. Be disturbed and be delighted!

Jupiter – a Colleen Murphy premiere

Ellie Heath, Brian Dooley, and Monk Northey in Colleen Murphy’s Jupiter, at Theatre Network. Set and costume design Tessa Stamp, lighting design Larissa Poho. Photo by Ian Jackson.

In comparison to Colleen Murphy’s other work that I’m familiar with, Jupiter has a happy ending. That is, not everyone is dead, and the ones who are not dead are at least speaking to each other.

Unlike in Bright Burning (published title I hope my heart burns first) or in The Society for the Destitute Presents Titus Bouffonius, or the offstage massacre that drives The December Man, the deaths discussed in Jupiter are spread over a period of more than 50 years, counting things that happened before the play started. Is it still more than one family’s share of problems and tragedies and bad luck? Maybe.

Bradley Moss directs the world premiere of Jupiter, in Theatre Network’s mainstage Nancy Power Theatre at the Roxy. The human cast is all familiar to Edmonton theatregoers: Brian Dooley, Cathy Derkach, Ellie Heath, Gabe Richardson, and Dayna Lea Hoffmann. The newcomer is Monk Northey, a large, beautiful, and well-behaved Field Retriever playing the part of family dog Axel.

There are scenes in three eras, all set in the family’s small house. The set design (Tessa Stamp) is very clever. It feels like peeking in to a private space, glimpsing the kitchen, front hall, and bedroom-hallway behind the main playing space of the small living room. The dialogue and movements were so specific that I felt like I could picture the back door and backyard and basement stairs as well. We can almost feel the sticky-oppressive heat that ramps up the frustrations.

Ellie Heath plays Emma, the daughter of Violet and Winston. She’s 16 in the first era, bursting with enthusiasm for doing science experiments and dreaming of going to med school in the big city. “Why do I have to have such weird kids?” grumbles slaughterhouse-worker dad Dooley. Seeing hints of how her life might unfold, and then seeing her 15 years later and 20 years after that was especially poignant. I’ve often seen Heath play young characters – she was Alice in the Citadel’s Through the Looking Glass, a young girl in the production of Closer directed by Keltie Brown Forsyth, a sulky teenager in Shadow’s production of Queen Lear, and a precocious teenager in one of the Die-Nasty soap-opera seasons last year. Heath’s shift from teenage-Emma to her older self, dealing with the consequences of the night of her brother’s 21st birthday, was impressive, with credible changes in voice and body language.

Violet (Derkach), Toby (Richardson), and Ava (Hoffmann) round out the family constellation, along with various pets onstage and off. Tensions are hinted at, awful things happen. Family members try to cope in the short term, and are permanently affected, as seen in the futures.

If you are a person who wants to be warned about whether specific awful things might happen or be discussed in a play, you should always ask beforehand about a Colleen Murphy play. If you would prefer watching the characters and trying to guess where the story might be going, having that chest-clenching top-of-the-roller-coaster moment of horror and “Are they actually going there?”, then don’t get spoilers. Colleen Murphy sometimes does go there. Different audience members will find different parts disturbing. And I’m not heartless and unmoved; I’m trying to preserve the surprises for people who want them.

Jupiter plays at the Roxy until April 20th, with tickets available here.