The original Canadian company of “Titanique”, Photo by Marie-Andrée Lemire
A Titanic museum tour is disrupted by musical superstar Céline Dion, who has some thoughts on what really happened on that ill-fated voyage. She wasn’t just the voice of that iconic song from the film, no, she was on the actual Titanic! Does it make sense? No. Hardly anything in Titaníque makes sense, but that’s not the intention anyway. This musical spoof of James Cameron’s blockbuster action-romance, presented by Mirvish, forgoes sense for zaniness. While it does hit a few highs, at 100 minutes this flimsy sketch comedy premise feels bloated and tiresome.
One of those highs is Véronique Claveau’s kooky Céline Dion, who is consistently funny and charismatic. The French-Canadian accent, the affected vocal trills, the quirky catchphrases—it’s exaggerated for comic effect, but she holds it all together with careful modulation. As our intrepid narrator, the chanteuse constantly injects herself into scenes because of course she does, she’s Céline Dion.
Her version of the doomed love affair between poor yet vivacious Jack (Seth Zosky) and the reluctant, rebellious aristocrat Rose (Mariah Campos) is full of goofy anachronisms. With references to Donald Trump, smart phones, and Grindr, we don’t so much follow a story as witness an ever-unfolding framework for gags. I’m all for pratfalls and outrageous nonsense. I’m a big fan of the Airplane! movies, for instance, but those had writing and mise en scène.
This script, by Marla Mindelle, Constantine Rousouli and Tye Blue (who also directs), isn’t as focused or clever as it needs to be to make this sort of thing really sail. And none of the characters are particularly compelling. Each has moments, of course, because the actors are really giving it their all, but everything is too frantic and busy for us to properly warm to them.
It doesn’t help that none of their antics feel grounded. The set, by Gabriel Hainer Evansohn and Grace Laubacher (for Iron Bloom), has a vaguely nautical shape, but it’s really just a flashy promontory, more Vegas than seaworthy. This whole spectacle is supposed to be Céline Dion’s fever dream, so this setting feels significant, but I needed something a little more substantial to grasp onto.
The songs, pulled from Dion’s repertoire, are great. Nicholas James Connell’s arrangements re-contextualize them with plenty of flair. This works well enough as a tribute concert, but not as musical theatre. None of the songs reveal character or advance the story; they hold everything up, even to the point of frustration. As the show wore on, I began to dread each one—bored and desperate for something genuinely dramatic to happen.
There are some bold, over-the-top choices that I did appreciate. It amused me that Rose’s tyrannically opportunistic mother Ruth is played by a man not even attempting to disguise the fact. Constant Bernard is doing a lot of flamboyant heavy lifting here as he lampshades the melodrama with crass, manic nudging and winking. The whole show is full of such brazen, self-aware artifice. An especially hilarious prop is the “heart of the ocean” pendant, a cartoonishly oversized and overwrought bauble that made me chuckle every time it appeared.
Shout-out to my second favourite performer: Christopher Ning is a diva giving Céline a run for her money here. Fully adorable with ample stage presence, my eyes were often drawn towards whatever he had going on at any given time. His big moment is as the iceberg—yes, that iceberg!—and his chilly rendition of “River Deep, Mountain High” is fierce and fabulous.
There’s some cute, risqué bits like the recreation of Titanic’s sex scene, including the iconic hands smudging the steamed-up car window. The pixelated breasts are a fun touch. I’m surprised they didn’t whip out the “heart does/hot dogs“ gag. Perhaps they didn’t want to sully it. There is a distinct reverence paid to “My Heart Will Go On” despite the general cheekiness. And, y’know, I get it. It is a stirring song, even in this context. When the whole cast join in, during the unapologetically absurd happy ending, the show felt ever so briefly transcendent.
For the most part, though, Titaníque just feels like it’s trying both too hard and not hard enough.
Titaníque
running December 5, 2024 to January 12, 2025
CAA Theatre (651 Yonge St.)
running time: 100 minutes (no intermission)
Véronique Claveau, Mariah Campos and Erica Peck in “Titanique”, Photo by Marie-Andrée Lemire