
Birgitte Solem, Madeline Elliott Kennedy & Shannon Pitre, and Jamillah Ross in “The Bee’s Knees”, Photos by Marlowe Andreyko
Prohibition, speakeasies, and inch-above-the-knee swimsuit bylaw enforcement are just some of the period touchpoints featured in The Bee’s Knees, a two-act drama with songs written and directed by Judy Reynolds. Between 1917 and 1921, in a Canada still recuperating from the devastation of both the first world war and Spanish flu, a nurse decides to run for office. Women have only just been granted the vote, but a young and ambitious flapper, Bernie (Madeline Elliott Kennedy), convinces her dutiful sister Delores (Shannon Pitre) she’s got the chops to beat incumbent Jerry Fields (Michael Pollard) and embraces her role as campaign manager.
This is a time of great change and not everyone is here for it. At the top, a woman confides in us her chagrin at the ruckus inflicted upon decent, law-abiding folks by the disruptive and indulgent suffragettes. This is Bernie and Delores’s Aunt Virginia (Birgitte Solem). She’s tired of being dismissed as irrelevant for being older and conservative, having earned a seat at the table through her fair share of life experience. Solem is a warm, assertive presence. Pitre and Kennedy are equally grounded and determined with their own distinct, defiant energies.
Two pivotal men feature into the story. There’s Delores’s fiancé, the handsome and successful Doctor Becker (a dapper and dependable Kenzie Delo) who is supportive yet understandably worried—as rocks come crashing through windows—about his future wife’s safety. Pollard’s Jerry Fields is the main antagonist. When they have their first debate, his smarmy and condescending tone sets him up as a contemptible representative of the old boy’s club. Reynold’s script gives him ample depth though.
As the story develops, and the competing campaigns are fraught with scandals, a scene between Fields and Bernie (one of my favourites) gives us a glimpse into his ruthless—yet not unkind—strategy. His intimate relationship with singer and speakeasy owner, Rita (Jamillah Ross), gives us further insight into his humanity. As an enterprising Black woman, she has a tough roe to hoe and Jerry’s wheeling and dealing has secured her a proper leg up. Their dynamic is truly endearing.
As Rita, Ross’s provides elegant and sumptuous renditions of jazz numbers (composed by Mboya Nicholson and Brendan Swanson) that make her a sort of narrative conscience transcending the century of time between us and this story. Her presence is sultry and sophisticated and contributes enormously to the period ambiance.
The remaining ensemble provide a backdrop of supporting characters, the most poignant being Françoise Balthazar’s turn as Dolores and Bernie’s bed-ridden mother afflicted with the peculiar “sleeping sickness” (encephalitis lethargica). Without a single line of dialogue, her portrayal is haunting and understated, her piercing eyes and gaping mouth hinting at the possibility of awareness.
Paul and Mathew Gyulay’s set isn’t particularly detailed, but gives us a cozy period drawing room and a speakeasy bar with some art deco flair, both provide a decent sense of place. Specific scenic elements are whisked in and out to suggest various supporting locations.
This is a lovely play with a masterful balance of heartfelt and comic elements. A final tribute to female politicians is such a simple gesture, as natural as an afterthought, and undeniably moving.

