Arts & Culture

What: I Don’t Even Miss You
Where: Factory Theatre, Studio Theatre, 125 Bathurst St.
When: Now until Sun., Nov. 10
Highlight: Elena Belyea’s magnetic, musical and emotional performance
Rating: NNNNN (out of 5)
Why you should go: Stunning solo show about human connection

DAY 987 AFTER Basil Haris’ worst day: they walk into the theatre and gasp in awe of the audience. There’s a long, luxurious moment of witnessing, it’s like they’re memorizing every face sitting in Factory Theatre’s Studio Theatre.

Tiny Bear Jaws (a little theatre company with teeth), brings this show all the way from Alberta fresh off Ottawa’s undercurrents Fringe Festival. And, wow. Run, don’t walk, to see this spectacular show until Sun., Nov. 10, in its tragically limited run.

We join Basil (played by Elena Belyea, who is also the writer and music co-creator) on Day 987 after their worst day. They’ve written, designed and produced this show with the help of Orchid, their AI friend (voiced by Vanessa Sabourin). It’s a combination of ’90s-influenced musical numbers, a presentation of the things they are grateful for and narrating experiences before and after their worst day: a personal archive of who they are and the life they have lived.

The choices by director/dramaturge Emma Tibaldo are pitch-perfect, combining music, movement and emotion in a tight 70 minutes. Though sometimes solo shows feel like they bite off more than they can chew, this is poetic, affronting and absolutely clever. Belyea is magnetic onstage. They fully embody the character of Basil, bounding from comedic musical numbers to deep emotions of human loss. They make space both for the heaviness of this piece and for moments of play and queer joy.

The set design by Even Gilchrist is made of three screens set up in the shape of a 2D house. Two of those screens are on wheels, moved and manipulated by Basil during the show, and morphing into fun shadow work. This design is stunning, making way for projections consisting of videos, live feeds, drawings and childhood videos thanks to video designer Tori Morrison (who also is the sound designer, music co-creator and composer).

The movement and choreography by Gianna Vacirca are thorough and delightful to watch. They have built such a beautiful, codified vocabulary for certain emotional cores of the show that Belyea revisits and clarifies as the plot barrels on. The dances are also just fun, ranging from drag-influenced numbers to more of a classic ’80s workout class. The music by Belyea and Morison is sickly sweet, staying stuck in my head long after I left the theatre.

Belyea’s script is an ode to human connection. The concept is devastatingly relatable and realized beautifully as a performer. There is deep care and intentionality for every moment on stage. A particular convention that I enjoyed in their work is what they leave unsaid. Sentences trail off and pick back up and sometimes we miss the most important pieces. But the fascinating thing is … you fill them in yourself. They don’t say it, but somehow you know exactly what they mean.

Don’t even dare miss this show. I’m serious.