Is My Microphone On?: "How dare you?"
13 Sep 2021

by Drew Rowsome -Photos by Elena Elmer. Photo of Chloe Cha by Mackenzie James

"I will fight for the earth."

"I will never forgive you."

"Why aren't you doing anything?"

"I hate old people."

"Kill the one percent."

The youth performing in Is My Microphone On? are angry. Understandably. The world is a mess of horrors with climate change being foremost in Is My Microphone On? Their future is bleak and, using speeches by Greta Thunberg as a jumping off point, that anger is directed at boomers (ie: "old people") and the theatre audience. Functioning as a Greek chorus that surround the amphitheatre, the 15 cast members are full of frustrated righteous indignation. Personal anecdotes and examples seem to have been mixed in and they are the most powerful. Or else the actors are much more adept than they appear. The words seem naturalistic despite being carefully structured to overlap and interject and come across as intensely sincere. 

The play is credited to Jordan Tannahill (Liminal, Declarations, Concord Floral, Botticelli in the Fire & Sunday in Sodom, Late Company, The Magic, Post Eden) but it is impossible to tell how much the collaborative efforts of the cast - Remi Ajao-Russell, Hiyab Araya, Jack Bakshi, Chloe Cha, Felix Chew, Nia Downey, Sidonie Fleck, Oscar Gorbet, Saraphina Knights, Iris MacNada, Iylah Mohammed, Amaza Payne, Sanora Souphommanychanh, Alykhan Sunderji, Catherine Thorne, Sophia Wang, and Skyler Xiang - and director Erin Brubacher have influenced the results. As an essay on climate change, it is powerful. As performance art it is intriguing, but as theatre it is inert. When starting at full bore intensity, there is no way to build and the actors eventually waffle with "Don't you think our kids will be saying this to us in the future?" and "We know you're trying. You're doing your best. But it's not good enough," before descending into mime and an anemic attempt at an anthemic number (credited to Veda Hille of Onegin, Do You Want What I Have Got? A Craigslist Cantata).

There are moments and monologues that galvanize or where the anger is contagious but, alas, the onslaught is so relentless and unvaried that there are more stretches where the audience tunes out. There is a wonderful metaphorical musical element where a single note, or guitar strum, or drum beat, is introduced and we are told that every time we hear it, it means another species has gone extinct or another 200 birds have been killed by slamming into window panes. It is visceral and ominous. But after a few repeats, the markers disappear instead of building into a cacophonous symphony of horrors. From an aural perspective it makes sense as the sound mix is already harsh on the performers, let alone adding competing music, but it undercuts and contradicts Is My Microphone On?'s central thesis.

Of course my wish for a more involving experience may have come from the confrontational nature of the production. And the exposure of my own complicity and guilt. Is the proverbial hitting the donkey on the head with a two-by-four to get its attention more effective than using a spoonful of sugar to make the medicine go down? I'm not sure but I am sure that my mulling of that question was not what Is My Microphone On? was intended to do. There was one stunning moment when the text stopped for a brief moment and the cast gazed up and around at the splendid sky and towering trees surrounding the amphitheatre. All that is at stake was driven home. A shard of theatricality courtesy of the wonders we are destroying turned out to be the most eloquent element.

Photos by Elena Elmer. Photo of Chloe Cha by Mackenzie James