Stage/Theatre

What: L’Amour telle une cathédrale ensevelie
Where: Fleck Dance Theatre, 207 Queens Quay W.
When: Now, until Sun., Feb. 25
Highlight: A bittersweet musical sequence performed by a quartet of opera singers
Rating: NNNN (out of 5)
Why you should go: Playwright-director Guy Régis Jr.’s auteur-ish vision is unique, uncompromising and powerfully abstract.

NOUS THÉÂTRE’S L’Amour telle une cathédrale ensevelie imagines Montreal as a frozen wasteland of sterile despair.

Presented by Théâtre français de Toronto in association with Crow’s Theatre at the Fleck Dance Theatre, the French-language production (playing with English surtitles) has the tenor of a Greek tragedy. There’s a definite broadness to the show, with playwright-director Guy Régis Jr. seeming to favour grand gestures over fine detail work. But the result is far from vague; it’s unique, uncompromising and powerfully abstract.

A tense, middle-aged, heterosexual couple occupy a contemporary Montreal apartment, the play’s primary setting. The man (Frédéric Fachena), clad in a sort of grey camo tank top, is bearded with tattoos on his triceps; the woman (Nathalie Vairac) sports a long flowy dress. Over the course of 20 scenes separated by blackouts, the two fight incessantly, shouting nonstop.

The origin of the couple’s conflict is the recent death of the woman’s son. She had come to Montreal from Haiti to prepare him a better life, but the Canadian government denied his request to immigrate. He attempted to make the journey anyway, on a boat, where he met his end.

A bittersweet musical sequence depicting the failed crossing bisects the play. A quartet of opera singers performs sprightly Haitian-Creole-language music inspired by sacred Caribbean songs and rhythms. They’re led by composer Amos Coulanges, who accompanies the entire show on acoustic guitar.

While set designer Velica Panduru’s rendering of the apartment is barren and two-dimensional, residing upstage behind a transparent screen, the lively boat sequence takes place downstage, on a floor of sand. And video designer Dimitri Petrovic pivots from gloomy shots of rain on windows to real footage of the ocean. This aesthetic expands further near the sequence’s end when a sizable volunteer choir, L’ensemble vocal Les voix du coeur, joins the quartet and rain starts pouring from the theatre’s ceiling.

L’Amour is fragmented but focused. Régis Jr. fully digs into the show’s pair of contrasting theatrical worlds, giving each moment space. Though the performances are abrasive, this plays as an intentional choice: the register is knowingly heightened and guttural rather than realistic. The influence of King Lear echoes throughout.

Considering its intense tone and unconventional structure, L’Amour won’t be for everyone. I’ll admit it’s difficult to penetrate at first, especially as someone without French fluency. But for audience members ready to be challenged, the show offers an ocean of theatrical rewards.