Review: ARE WE NOT DRAWN ONWARD TO NEW ERA at Bluma Appel Theatre

The symbolism is pretty clear: if a single red apple hangs tantalizingly from a lone onstage tree next to a sleeping woman, the fruit will be plucked, innocence will be lost, and Eve and Adam will have to leave the garden. However, in the story of humanity's hand in its own destruction, what's often left unexplored is the question: What if we could put the apple back?

Belgian troupe Ontroerend Goed takes on that question in its intriguing work of primarily physical theatre, Are we not drawn onward to new erA, at Canadian Stage's Bluma Appel Theatre. The touring show, here for only three days, is a palindrome just like its name. As a comment on ecological devastation "with a twist," the experiment shows simultaneously the possibility and impossibility of walking back the destruction we have created.

The 70-minute performance folds together like an inkblot. We witness destruction at the hands of the cast, as the apple is plucked and eaten, the real sapling that produced it is uprooted and torn asunder, and the stage becomes a plastic playground for litter, smoke, and monuments to humanity's supposed greatness. It's all delivered with a deliberate, tongue-in-cheek awkwardness, from the actors' slightly stilted movements to the sparse, mostly-unintelligible dialogue.

Then, we get to the middle, and things fold and reverse. Unfortunately, to reveal more of how this happens, or much of anything at all, would be as destructive to the show's main conceit as the first half of the show is to the environment. However, astute viewers will likely figure out what's going to happen fairly early on, particularly if they pay attention to the words, and simply wait for the reversal to happen.

Directed by Alexander Devriendt, with scenography by Philip Aguirre, Are we not drawn onward to new erA has consistently solid visual impact and is extremely impressive in a technical sense. The second half changes the meaning of jokes and actions, reveals important "Easter Eggs," and even replaces destruction with resurrection and a sort of melancholy hope. It's engaging to see how proficient and precise the actors are with a very difficult undertaking, and how it all works out in the end.

There are downright beautiful effects, from the release of multicoloured bags that resemble a smack of jellyfish, to the numerous items one actor holds in front of his face like a live version of Magritte's Son of Man, to the literal sparks flying from a circular saw. As well, the second half's protracted use of Spectra Ensemble's recording of William Basinski's "Disintegration Loops" gives the actions a feeling of portentousness and emotional vibrancy.

Beyond the joy of seeing the complicated puzzle pieces lock into place, though, there's not really a tremendous amount being said here. How much you enjoy the work will depend, probably, on how much of a surprise the second half is, and your patience for watching it unfold. It also depends on whether or not you interpret the ending as having oddly unexamined ecofascist overtones, how comfortable you are with that message, and if you feel that undercuts the rest of the show.

As a testament to a singular creative idea, Ontroerend Goed's work is a worthwhile experience, and a very cool theatre exercise. I just felt it had the potential to be even more than the sum of its palindromic parts.

Photo of the cast by Mirjam Devriendt