Review: PEOPLE OF THE CITY at Factory Theatre

Who are the people in your neighbourhood?

Why, they’re the PEOPLE OF THE CITY, of course!

Bad Dog Theatre’s new improv show at Factory Theatre revolves around a storyteller who shares three short stories from their lives about what it means to be a person in Toronto. After each tale, the team of improvisers serves up a set of improv based on—or, at least, tangentially related—to objects, ideas, and themes from the piece we’ve just heard. From Mayor Olivia Chow to (my night) Mysterion the Mind Reader, they’ve pulled together an eclectic mix of voices to make every night unique, wrapping the whole thing in a cheery Can-con soundtrack.

The structure of the show is a strong conceit that leads to some fun surprises. Mysterion (Chris Doyle) pairs each of his stories, such as his flight from Doug Ford’s goons during an infamous Rob Ford-themed bus tour, with a nifty and impressive mentalist trick. His spooky-yet-affable delivery is endearing. Then, the Bad Dog Season 8 Featured Players (Alex Cabrera-Aragon, Alexa Mackell, Alfred Chow, Amrutha Krishnan, Janet Mac, Jared Wonago, Lance Oribello, Liz Cyrus, Maddy Atamanchuk, Patrick Ronan, Shane McLean, Sachin Sinha, and Stevey Hunter) take over.

As is generally true with improv, the sketches are a mixed bag, ranging from unique ideas executed very successfully to moments that start promisingly but peter out, and some players are having a better night than others. Most of the time, the cast ably tags each other out if they sense something’s going south, and do nice work in bringing threads together, whether they concern a set of Rob Ford trading cards, a pair of toughs having a crisis of confidence, or the fate of those famous white squirrels of Trinity Bellwoods. When a couple of performers come into the audience, the energy spikes—admittedly, a little from said audience’s nerves, but the sketch about a couple trying to find a third via interview lands well. Amrutha Krishnan’s deadpan delivery balances the wacky energy of most of the rest of the cast.

After the first half, another set of improvisers does a more traditional set using audience suggestions, but in keeping to the theme of the evening, begins by sharing and interweaving three of their own stories.

I admit that my favourite part of the night were the stories, particularly those in the second half, which focused on three moments of coming of age; one explored what it’s like to grow up as the “fat, funny friend,” whose status in a group of more popular kids is always tenuous. Another looked at a fateful after-prom campout, and the third focused on a family trip to New York, balancing laughs about an accidental lie to customs officials with the sweetness of the teller’s joy at the memory of having her parents’ attention all to herself. The skillful layering of the stories felt natural, creating three pictures of teen characters who just wanted to be accepted and seen.

I was glad to meet these people of the city.