Tag Archives: true story

Francis Pegahmagabow: more than two battles and a wry wit

Monica Gate, Julie Golosky, and Garret Smith, in The Two Battles of Francis Pegamagabow, at Shadow Theatre. Photo by Marc Chalifoux.

The Two Battles of Francis Pegahmagabow, by Neil Grahn, opened last night at Shadow Theatre. Today, November 8th, is National Indigenous Veterans’ Day. So it’s a timely opportunity to experience the story of one of them, in this world premiere directed by John Hudson and Christine Sokaymoh Frederick. I knew it was going to be about an indigenous soldier in World War One, and about the challenges he faced from racist/hostile regimes in Canada after returning home with medals, but I didn’t know much else. Garret Smith plays the eponymous Francis Pegahmagabow, and he starts the tale with military posture and heavy khaki, addressing the audience (or some other audience, it’s not clear and doesn’t matter), and explaining that the following narrative jumps around in time and we’ll have to pay attention. After that warning, I didn’t find it hard to follow.

It does jump around, with many short scenes, alternating between war scenes in and out of the trenches, and a mostly sequential series of glimpses from other important experiences in his life. There’s an ensemble of five other talented actors, each playing multiple roles with shifts in costume elements, posture, and accent: Trevor Duplessis (last seen at Shadow in Cottagers and Indians, and more recently in a reading at Workshop West’s Springboards festival), Julie Golosky (I know I’ve seen her on stage before but I can’t remember where), Monica Gate, and Ben Kuchera play military men, white bureaucrats, members of Pegahmagabow’s community (then called Parry Island Band), and various family members. The scenes where he meets and woos Eva, his future wife (Gate) despite her parents’ (Duplessis and Golosky) reluctance are especially charming. Kuchera has a continuing role as a naive fellow soldier, and disturbing ones as Indian Agents refusing Pegamagabow’s applications to the band’s loan fund, and threatening him with RCMP action if he doesn’t cease his political advocacy.

In warfare scenes, we see that Francis has hunting skills and knowledge that enable him to be an unusually effective solo sniper. We also see that his superiors want him to follow orders and rules – take a partner, go out when there’s a full moon – despite his insistence that he can do things better his own way. In conversation with the audience, he explains that being good at killing people is a terrible gift. Short vignettes allude to the available facts behind his three wartime decorations.

In wartime action, his peers and superiors show typical microaggressions (not learning to pronounce his name), but seem to accept him for his skills. After returning home, however, he encounters one frustration after another. The determination and volatility that made him an effective fighter are now employed as he becomes Chief of his Band and founder of national indigenous advocacy groups. Other members of his Band (Golosky and Gate) heckle him and suggest that he’s acting in his own interest. And his reputation of being unstable, quick to anger, or unreliable gets used against him by bureaucrats. It’s heartbreaking, except for the moments when he shows his pride in successes. When World War Two arrives, and the RCMP come knocking to enforce conscription, he and Eva send their boys away for their safety, and he adds that “None of our children ever went to residential school either”.

One of my favourite things about this script and production was the humour, especially the way Francis engages the audience on his side, allowing us to share his wry understated amusement at the predictable injustices of his life, starting with receiving a medal from the King who can’t pronounce his name. There are several moments in the script that break the fourth wall or theatre conventions – he compliments the booth crew on the nice job they did on the moon, and some other fun bits I won’t spoil. It’s not a completely happy story, but it’s told with a very light touch and Smith’s delivery makes me want to watch him in something else.

The abstract set (Cindi Zuby) provides opportunities for active scenes that feel like battlefield expeditions, like moments of comfort in trenches, like intimacy sitting together at home sharing bannock, and like meetings in offices and in convention halls. A backdrop evokes rough-torn cured hides and silhouetted landscape, and creates a surface for projections.

The Two Battles of Francis Pegahmagabow continues until November 24th, with tickets available here.