Tag Archives: ryan mattila

The Ballad of Maria Marten – a woman who was more than a victim

Eerie image of Ballad of Maria Marten cast. Photo Kendra Nordstrom

Before attending a preview of the Leduc Drama Society production of Beth Flintoff’s The Ballad of Maria Marten, I didn’t know very much about the play. I did know that it was based on a true story, and I was pretty sure the title character would die.

That’s not much of a spoiler, since very early in the performance the narrator (Emily Rutledge) introduces herself to the audience and explains that she sees things differently now that she’s dead – and it’s a relief. Now that she knows the truth, she knows that none of it was her fault, despite what “he” had been telling her. That was a fascinating viewpoint and I was curious to know more.

The character crumpled at the narrator’s feet turns out to be the younger/alive Maria (Sarah Gibson). And the company then takes us through the story of her life from about age 10 to her murder about 15 years later. I was reminded of other narrative conventions – like the way that After Mourning, Before Van Gogh uses two actors to portray different periods in the protagonist Joanna’s life, or the way that Our Town has the spirit of the dead girl walking through the community while the other characters go about their lives. I was repeatedly reminded of Tess (the Roman Polanski movie, as I’ve never tackled the Thomas Hardy book), because the title character often seemed doomed by her class and gender, penalized unfairly because she was a woman in poverty who dared to seek for survival and hope for love.

However, the playwright Beth Flintoff takes the known facts about Maria Marten’s life and death and shapes them into a compelling narrative of a likeable lively girl/woman with significant agency and female support – from her friendships with other girls (Marisa Scarbeau, Anglia Redding, Bethany Doerksen, Lee-Anna Semenyna) and allying with her new stepmother (Karen Huntley) to finally experience some childhood happiness now that she wasn’t responsible for keeping house. I was struck by the choice not to have her father be an on-stage character in the story – he seemed to be benign, but not relevant to Maria’s life and death the way her stepmother was. I was also impressed at the sex-positive threads woven through the storyline, especially through the character of Sarah (Scarbeau), sharing contraceptive folk-remedies with her friends and proud of her “bastard” children (delightful cameos from Willow Marshall and Cooper Marshall).

Michael Leoppky and Ryan Mattila play Maria’s various partners and the fathers of her children. There was nuance to these portrayals as well, even though none had much stage time.

Knowing that the title character dies, murdered by a man, I spent much of the first act wondering who, and then wondering why. A quick Wikipedia browse tells me that the case has been popular with true-crime fans ever since the original trial. In one of the most unsettling moments of the play, Rutledge’s spirit-of-Maria narrator confronts the audience directly about us coming in hopes of seeing the violent death.

But that’s not the story she chooses to tell/show. We do see the murderer on stage, but never hear him speak. We don’t see Maria’s death. We do see her friends and family struggling with whether and how to testify in the trial, and meeting to enact their own version of justice. There is another plot thread with a much more satisfying ending as well, leaving me with a sense of hope, a reminder that women supporting each other can make a difference, even in cultures of systemic oppression. Maria wasn’t saved, but she was vindicated, and others were saved.

Director Shawn Marshall has created a sensitive portrayal of these 19th-century characters, with glimpses of joy and humour and kindness. Costumes (Cyndi Wagner), props (Kendra Nordstrom) and the simple but haunting set and lights (Len Marshall builder) enhance the mood, hopeful and oppressive by turns.

The Ballad of Maria Marten plays tonight through Saturday night, and Saturday afternoon, at the Maclab Centre for the Performing Arts in Leduc (next to Leduc Composite High School), and then plays for one night at the Manluk Centre in Wetaskiwin on May 30. Tickets for this weekend’s run are available here. It’s disturbing and it’s uplifting, and it’s worth the drive.

Fringe Day Nine: assorted stories – but not storytelling shows.

Heading into the last weekend of Fringe, on Friday I watched three fun shows.

Verbal Tapas is a collection of poems by longtime Fringe poet and storyteller Rob Gee. Instead of scripting a fixed order, the performer handed out “menus” on the way in, with various poem titles and descriptions that sounded like restaurant-food teasers. He invited people to shout out titles, after which he might tell an anecdote of context (the time he recited a poem to two police officers in the middle of the night who had stopped him from illicit postering, the creative-writing groups he’d run as part of his work in mental-health nursing, etc) and launch into a recitation. He kept having good lines which I’d try to remember and then they went out of my head with laughing. Acacia Hall is a good venue for this kind of solo with audience connections.

Canterbury Tales has been adapted from Chaucer’s much longer Middle English original by local theatre artist Donna Call. This version has six travellers acting out each other’s stories to entertain the company, and the role-shifting is amusing. Lee-Ann Semenya plays the innkeeper who sells them drinks, proposes the storytelling competition, keeps things moving, and then covers them up with blankets for the night. I don’t know the original very well – the character names were familiar (the confident and ambitious Wife of Bath played by Amanda Stout, the Miller played as a lout by Ryan Mattila), but I didn’t remember the content of any of the stories. Other performers were Martin Stout, Zack Siezmagraff Penner, Anne-Marie Smyth, and Karen Huntley.

Field Zoology 301: Myths and Monsters is part of a series, in a campground-lecture style. Performer Shawn O’Hara, as Doctor Bradley Q. Gooseberry, welcomes his students around a campfire to teach us about cryptozoology, or the study of legendary/folkloric animals. He makes imaginative use of sketches on an overhead projector to illustrate his tales, including most of the cryptids I’d heard of and a few that were unfamiliar to me, along with some very funny narrative of personal encounters. Afterwards, the performer removes Dr. Gooseberry’s extravagant mustache from his own, to thank his contributors, including people who helped him to navigate telling stories respectfully from Indigenous sources. I would definitely see other shows in this series. This was my first glimpse of Mile Zero Dance as a Fringe venue, and an opportunity to spend time in the Happy Beer Street area of West Ritchie, which was exciting. However, I found the seats uncomfortable, and the full room too hot in last night’s warm humid weather.