Stage/Theatre

What: The Bidding War
Where: Crow’s Theatre
When: Now, until at least Sun., Dec. 15
Highlight: Canadian theatre legend Fiona Reid’s hilarious delivery of the word “fuckboy”
Rating: NNN (out of 5)
Why you should go: Topical subject matter, an 11-person ensemble and a deluge of hyper-specific references to our Internet-addled culture combine to make an agreeable comedy that fits in well at Crow’s.

IN WORLD PREMIERES like Michael Healey’s The Master Plan and Paolo Santalucia’s Prodigal, Crow’s Theatre has made a habit of lampooning the antics of middle-to-upper-class Torontonians. Its latest commission, The Bidding War by Michael Ross Albert, sells similar baubles: topical subject matter, an 11-person ensemble and a deluge of hyper-specific references to our Internet-addled culture — it’s well-trodden ground that’s likely to connect with established Crow’s audiences in search of a gentle holiday chuckle.

Albert’s chosen coliseum is the unforgiving world of real estate. Our gladiators — buyers and agents both — have heard that a sleek, contemporary house in a decent-ish neighbourhood is on the market for a mere $1.3 million. Cue the brandishing of swords. The atmosphere further intensifies when June (Veronica Hortiguela), one of the two sellers, returns home from Berlin in the middle of the open house. Unaware that it was occurring and unsatisfied with the listing price, she tries to fire the clumsy but conniving buying agent, Sam (a funny Peter Fernandes), with whom she used to be friends. He parries by transforming the day into a crazed bidding war.

The joy of Santalucia’s Guloien Theatre production lies in watching its characters buzz around the space like frenzied worker bees eager for their queen’s attention. Fiona Reid is particularly delightful as an older, tech-challenged woman who in minutes goes from being skeptical of the property to being in love with it. But it’s almost silly to start singling performers out: this is a true ensemble show, and several of its most successful moments involve multiple characters flinging their limbs around at once.

Ken Mackenzie and Sim Suzer’s detailed thrust playing space features black-and-white abstract paintings, a wooden countertop and a ton of grey. While sightline challenges resulted in me missing a few early beats of physical comedy, once the show finds its rhythm, it becomes less about precise images and more about organized chaos. And Act One is, by and large, a blast. Oddly enough, though, Act Two is only around 30 minutes of the two-hours-and-15-minute runtime, giving it the tenor of an epilogue — and a fairly underwhelming one, at that.

This is a lively, agreeable show that Crow’s could probably extend multiple times. But, even putting aside a neat easter-egg reference to The Master Plan (is this the start of a Crow’s Theatrical Universe?), much of it seems designed to fall in line with the company’s previously established brand. And, as I mentioned in my 2023 review of Prodigal (a show that was similarly lopsided toward Act One), eat-the-rich satires are already extraordinarily popular — so I’m not entirely sure what this one adds to the conversation beyond some amusing references to Etsy, Substack and OnlyFans. It’s also just not really a win for The Bidding War to feel like something that could be on Netflix: How can a piece of theatre launch an effective critique of capitalism when the show itself almost resembles a product?