With Canada’s current state of Trudeaumania, Theatre St. Thomas’ production of Trudeau and the FLQ couldn’t have been more timely – or in line with today’s satirized public climate. Striding confidently from rant to epiphany, Matthew LeBlanc channels an exuberant Pierre Trudeau as he navigates Quebec’s turbulent political field during the October Crisis.
The second-year STU student pulls off this theatrical suavity perfectly – from Trudeau’s early interactions in the late ‘60s until his “just watch me” moment at the height of the crisis in 1970. Trudeau’s nonchalant stance on anarchy is, at the start of the play, seen as comically arrogant. Nearing the end of the production, however, the audience can get behind him – his indifference towards sensationalization melds fluidly into his own growing confidence with the decisions he’s made.
The FLQ are rowdy, rambunctious and their zealous vehemence for sovereignty is felt with each gunshot fired in their scenes. Doled in plaid and with constant cigarette in hand, the audience watches as they grow from disgruntled to destructive.
Although the cast is highly caricatured, the story doesn’t lose its listener for one beat – these exaggerated depictions give weight to a subject that could easily be confusing to someone not versed in politics or the October Crisis. The actors‘ buoyant portrayal of each character is refreshing and engaging. The entire play is seen through the opaque haze of a special projector screen called a scrim. The audience gets an initial taste of this with the FLQ’s first display of anarchy. An FLQ supporter turns to the audience and begins spray-painting in their direction only for the letters to appear across the screen in big fat orange letters. During certain Trudeau moments of the production, old footage of the former prime minister play on the sheer fabric with the play going on behind it.
This effect is mesmerizing firstly because of its surreal effect. Its overall presence throughout the play works to bring the audience back to the ‘60s – the slight fogginess cast over its short 1-2 minute scenes paints the actors in an antique light.
Each character is made up like a doll – their overdone white, powdered faces and extra rosy red cheeks are amplified by each character’s overzealous illustration of the political figure they’re conveying.
The play culminates in the kidnappings of British diplomat James Cross and Quebec cabinet minister Pierre Laporte. Trudeau finds out, and plays out a scene hard to forget – looking down, in deep thought, Trudeau raises his head to the ceiling – his eyes black and ominous under the stage lights. He looks skeletal, his eye sockets dark and bottomless – the audience experiences his final frustration with the FLQ and their seemingly unabashed hatred for order.
The rhythm of the play is quick, its effect – acute. The audience is invited in to laugh with the characters. They are, after all, staring right at the crowd but the scrim keeps it from feeling too intimate – a portion of history is playing out but it isn’t invasive.
This was the first out-of-house production of the Michael Hollingsworth play – it hadn’t been performed outside of its original production company until now, at STU’s Black Box Theatre. Trudeau and the FLQ was sold out consecutively all four of its running nights.
