
Alexander Thomas, Maja Ardal, Jamie McRoberts and Amy Keating in For Both Resting and Breeding | Photo by Dahlia Katz
Set well into the next century, For Both Resting and Breeding, presented by Talk Is Free Theatre, gets up close and personal with a pair of historians, an engineer and two volunteers—identically clad in khaki jumpsuits and matching caps—who’ve come together to create a museum honouring domestic human life in the year 1999. Even before the project gets corrupted by their own repressed mortal impulses, these five future humans gathered in an abandoned Toronto house betray an affinity for the messy, chaotic humanness of the past.
Their voices soft and gently robotic, they dutifully acknowledge each other with serene efficiency and an adorable greeting—intake of breath, upraised hands, and exhale. This quintet represents a comfortable future society without conflict and, well, kinda blah. Consider, for example, the bleak notion of external reproduction. These calm, gender-neutral, harmonious creatures, through close contact with random historical artifacts of our current world and recent past, are tempted to explore systematically outdated notions like Man, Woman and even, perhaps, Love.
Adam Meisner’s script is an unassuming, intimate bit of speculative fiction. Quietly, he builds a world where, along with discord, individuality is a thing of the past. Everybody goes by the common identifier ISH, though they are numbered, a purely utilitarian necessity. As they inhabit the space and negotiate their interpretations of the past, we gradually make out their endearing, distinctive quirks.
The performances are warm and persuasive, even through their stilted facades. Amy Keating’s ISH34 (the engineer), is a guarded bundle of awkward hesitancy; Alexander Thomas’ ISH84 is a gentle giant discovering a flair for fashion and yearning to channel their late grandmother; Richard Lam and Jamie McRoberts, as ISH40 and ISH20, take their experimentation with latent human urges the furthest and their developing relationship is a poignant focal point around which the other characters gravitate. Maja Ardal (who also directs), plays ISH62, the leader of this team, and they seem, at first, to be most dispassionate of the lot.
As the others playact the domestic roles of their Millennial ancestors, sporting a variety of outfits that were archived after a great societal transition, and lose themselves in these performative identities, ISH62 desperately tries to maintain the scientific objectivity of their museum project. Alas, they too, in the closest we come to a violent fit, reveal a deep well of actual feelings.
There are so many lovely moments, from hilarious to tender, throughout this charming, offbeat little play. A chorus of mimed phone calls was pretty great. The “give mommy’s feet a rub” fiasco is beautiful farce with a heartbreaking undertone. Watching these people gradually discover a multitude of new emotions, embody the joy and pain of being a person, is a deeply poignant experience. After generations of mannered, drab sameness—a swanky dress, some high heels, a dapper suit and a new hairdo—these become a fanciful and empowering bit of human cosplay.
Though aspects of their project fall apart and newly acquired feelings get hurt, they all seem better for it. As did I, part of a very small audience huddled together in the kitchen of a gorgeous, west end residence to experience this lovely piece of immersive theatre. For Both Resting and Breeding pays tribute to slight gestures, mundane routines, all the silly little things that make up our lives. It fixes our attention on this minutiae, wants us to be keenly aware of how our stuff will eventually be artifacts, our existence a memory, and how often we take our humanness for granted.
