Ganesh Thava and Asha Ponnachan in “Koli Kari”, Photo by Barry McCluskey
Presented by Pink Banana Theatre
While shooting the final episode of the season for his cooking show, “The Spice Route,” Ravi (Ganesh Thava) is about to reveal his mother’s koli kari recipe, a strategic move to boost his ratings and professional profile. But he begins to hear ominous clucks and the rustling of feathers. Before it can become a curried meal, suddenly the chicken is there before him, an eerie creature that pulls him into his past.
As his tale unfolds, Koli Kari sees Ravi wrenched between the present reality of the cooking show and his formative experiences as the son of Indian immigrants in Scarborough. We realize that this recipe—the exceptionally delicious meal and his Amma’s subtle craft—have mythic significance. It is familial connection and legacy. His guilt, for having left his family and friends to pursue his culinary education abroad, comes into focus.
As the spectral chicken-person pulls Ravi and his Amma (Asha Ponnachan) together for flashbacks fraught with wistful reaching and vital proclamations left unspoken, a generational rift is revealed. We giggle and cringe as she tries to set him up with a local student, a young woman named Anika (Anne Saverimuthu). It is an awkward, funny and painful spectacle. Though it isn’t addressed until the very end—and even then, in code—attentive audiences will pick up on Ravi’s queerness as being the central dilemma. As a coming out story, Thava doesn’t serve it up quite so plainly, but loads the narrative with plenty of flavourful anxieties.
The magic realism of the chicken coming to life in a mask and cloak, as well as the jarring shifts from flashback to real life, are relatively elegant. Much of Sungwon Cho’s direction, though, can be stiff at the edges. The biggest problem is the largeness of the stage. The entrances and exists don’t feel as phantasmagorical as intended because the mechanics of walking to the wings and back curtain drain some of the magic and energy.
Within scenes, though, there are some beautifully compelling moments. Thava paints an insightful portrait of parental sacrifice and the tensions that form as children strive towards ambitions at odds with their parents’ protective instincts and cultural expectations. And Ponnachan’s Amma has some truly hilarious, authentically quirky moments as she tries to be the conductor of events as she believes they should play out.
The central symbol of the koli kari recipe and it’s significance to Ravi and his relationship to his mother is especially resonant. The sense memory of texture, scent and flavour—the complex stew of guilt, affection and rebellion—feels palpable. Worked into the show is a chance for the first few rows of the audience to sample the finished meal, though this aspect is a little clunky and could be finessed.
Koli Kari
@ Toronto Fringe Festival
running July 3 to 14, 2024
Tarragon Theatre Mainspace (30 Bridgman Ave)
running time: 50 minutes
