The rituals of The Water Thief

There is something already ritualistic and heavy with portent in the very air of a church. Not so much in a church basement where memories of Sunday school shenanigans and awkward coming of age add to the claustrophobic feeling of the low ceilings mixed with the lingering scent of dust and nuns. However The Twelfth House theatre company requires lots of space for their SummerWorks production of The Water Thief, and St John's Polish National Catholic Cathedral's basement offers more backstage depth than any theatre could.

We enter the theatre individually and proceed through a series of stations where brief introductory rituals of cleansing and candle lighting are performed. It is atmospheric and intriguing. We take our seats, in the aforementioned basement, and a film is projected on a scrim. There is live music and vocal accompaniment and several times ghostly figures, actors and puppets, appear behind the scrim to interact with the actor in the film. 

In the film Bertholet Charron, as an unnamed man who has suffered the ravages of time, performs rituals and interacts with what appears to be a beached blue whale. Ghosts appear around him and his sleep is haunted by a creepy ceramic angel that hangs over his bed. At this point my growing trepidations were replaced with anticipation of a spooky Gothic horror tale.

Using this technique for a Gothic horror tale is a very good idea, it just doesn't happen here. The film is very NFB pre-'80s Canadian - a compliment or a dis depending on your tastes - and rides that thin line where ritual, repetition and earnestness become tedium.

The effect is oddly the opposite of 3D. A film is watched whereas theatre is experienced and the scrim becomes a barrier between the audience and the emotions. Much like Tear the Curtain, where projections were used as an integral and visually gasp-inducing part of the action, the incompatibility of film and theatre is revealed. The film is a set length - much too long - and the actors and puppets must adjust themselves to its pace, destroying their natural ability to engage and gauge the audience. When the scrim turns into curtains and parts, it is a relief and much of what follows is magic. 

All the ritual repetition pays off in a wonderful moment that pulls all the symbols (except the ceramic angel who is sorely missed) together in an hauntingly satisfying way. Which would be wonderful if The Water Thief ended there, but instead we are subjected to a rendition of a folk song that may add to the theme but by then I had tuned out. 

The Water Thief moves at a stately pace and the journey into the belly of the whale (or is it the after life?) is immersive and involving. Half the length and twice the energy would be a knock-out production. Surrendering to its east coast-ish siren lure will appeal to many and certainly leave some with altered  and enchanted perspectives. SummerWorks (and church basements with all their connotations) is a place for productions of plays that push boundaries and The Twelfth House are definitely on to something with their use of multi-media to evoke emotions - I will gladly participate in their next ritual.