Elizabeth Rodenburg, Carson Somanlall, Luke Kimball, Mia Hay, Ben Yoganathan, and Marianne McIsaac from from “86 Me: The Restaurant Play”, Photo by Ally Mackenzie
Presented by Dead Racoon
Dead Racoon’s RETROGRADE: The Concert Experience, a vivid portrait of chosen family, was a highlight of my 2023 Toronto Fringe experience. Writer/director Jackson Doner is back this summer with a vibe-y, immersive, continuous action event set in a popular Kensington locale. For 86 Me: The Restaurant Play, Supermarket Bar and Variety stands in for Our Lady Kensington, a floundering and endearingly squalid pub recently bought by some corporate entity. There we meet five watering hole staffers, their one elderly, faithful patron and a handful of peripheral oddballs—including us, the audience.
At the top, Dustin (Carson Somanlall), dressed in a suit and flailing through his new role as supervisor, wakes the hungover François (Ben Yoganathan) who has apparently crashed there. And it just gets messier and messier as they, along with Evie (Mia Hay) and Lori (Elizabeth Rodenburg), work through their personal issues, sexual involvements and existential angst all while preparing the bar for opening. And this isn’t an ordinary shift either; Zack (Luke Kimball), only 20 and seeming about 16, is there as an “efficiency evaluator.” And it’s really the worst possible timing. Immediately identified as their “bitch boy,” Zack is press-ganged into bar work. Jeff Gruich pops up as the new owner, whom they’ve dubbed “Mr. Fancypants,” as well as a couple of goofy bit parts that tickled me.
Hijinks and drama ensue.
This is a finely tuned and affectionate meditation on unhealthy relationships, fraught psyches and urban community. During their venting, flirting, and squabbling; Jasmine (Marianne McIsaac), without her french fries and guzzling a pitcher of vodka, gets in quite a bad way and they must scramble to hide her, keep her alive and satisfy her demands as an esteemed, eccentric fixture of the establishment. There are drugs in a piñata, an egg to the face, a dead racoon, slippery floors, and plenty of secrets are revealed as tensions mount, connections are made and tested.
Once again, I’m in awe of Doner’s flair for well-paced, compelling drama that feels so authentic and impulsive. The performers inhabit the space with such naturalistic, chaotic awkwardness that’s never contrived or unfocused. Even towards the end, when the banter gives way to heartfelt and introspective lyricism, it feels entirely earned and honest.
There are some cute, interactive elements. You can pre-order drinks to be served by the cast during the performance and are given some coinage to tip them as they serve moments that really hit. This is a simple gimmick, but as the plinks resound throughout the venue, the gesture becomes astonishingly unifying.
While this is, thankfully, never too precious, neither does it delve into the full toxicity that infects the industry. You can certainly glimpse it, though, in the margins of the story. This is, ultimately, meant to be a feel good experience. Any grime and pathos are aligned with this uplifting tone. And, just like last year, I fell in love with each of these characters. It’s deeply satisfying to see the range of life experience too—from the barely legal, through middle-age, to senior. There is a palpable and touching sense of history to Our Lady Kensington, and an acknowledgement that a crummy job and its abject humanity can reverberate beyond the immediate drudgery of the grind.
The entire run is officially sold out, but there are some rush spots available. If you have a ticket, lucky you! If not, it’s absolutely worth trying to get in! Go for it.
