Farren Timoteo in Made In Italy | Photo provided by the company
Pasta fagioli, Fangool, Rocky Balboa, Capisce? Oh, and The Godfather too, because of course. I don’t mean this all to sound so glib. Made In Italy, a Marquis Entertainment Production in association with the Citadel Theatre and presented by Mirvish, revels affectionately in all things Italiano. Created by and featuring Farren Timoteo, with his adorable comedic stylings, this does eventually get significantly more poignant than I expected, given the breezy broadness of his overall performance.
This has a decidedly camp appeal. There’s an aerosol spectacle hair-prep tutorial and a not-so-smooth workout montage in a leopard print speedo that’s set to Bill Conti’s Rocky theme. Beneath all these cartoonish antics, this is a fairly sweet, prodigal son story. Growing up in Jasper in the 1970s, Francesco Mantini is bullied in school, called a “wop” and a “fag.” By his late teens, he’s had enough and rebels against his Italian heritage, getting violent and into some trouble with the law. Having formed a small band with some friends, his stage name, Frank Martin, further distances him from his Italian roots.
The framing device of this story sees his widower father, Salvatore Mantini (also played by Timoteo), walking us through the various courses of an Italian meal. We eventually discover that the meal he’s preparing before us is a very specific, heartfelt ritual. His dowdy, old man clothes and crouched posture are a cartoonish indicator of his age, but there’s a certain twinkle in the eye—a deliberate, barely contained vitality through which Timoteo lets us know that father and son really aren’t so different, despite their recent schism.
As a first generation immigrant, Salvatore strives to instil in his son a sense of cultural pride. He dresses him in a suit for school (hence the bullying) and encourages his vocal prowess. In a running gag, he brandishes his exaggeratedly woeful story of his stormy crossing whenever Francesco is being disrespectful: “I came all this way, for what?” An abundance of cultural phenomena work their way into Timoteo’s script, which is meant as an affectionate, informative window into the Italian ethos. I learned that salad comes last and that you can make up saints to swear at.
Along the way, Francesco has two sort of spirit guides—an Italian saint and the memory of a sex worker he was brought to by his cousins when he was a young teenager—perhaps a nod towards the inherent link between the sacred and the profane.
In addition to having a strong, lovely voice, Timoteo’s performance also features some masterful clowning. The way he contorts his body to portray a variety of characters, often milking distinctive gestures which take on a whole life of their own—like the manic pulling up of pants which became a crowd favourite. Cindy Wiebe’s stylish outfits get quite a workout.
Despite being so very large and imposing, Cory Sincennes’ grand dining room set can seem a little stifling. A vast, curving dark green wall stretches up into the rafters, topped by some grand wood molding and adorned with an array of portrait frames. Celeste English’s lighting design helps give this elegant, oppressive space a certain dynamic, colourful dimension. Several of these frames are lit from behind in a variety of colours, giving the set a whimsical quality that seems rather garish, but serves its purpose well enough.
Under Daryl Cloran’s kinetic direction, this solo show has a maximalist, broad appeal. He does veer toward caricature, but Timoteo hits every mark he intends to, and I found the ending suitably touching. It isn’t even the poignant button on the finale that really did it for me; it was his rendition of “Bridge Over Trouble Water,” where he purposefully lapses into Italian—a tribute and an olive branch.
Made In Italy
running May 24 to June 8, 2025
CAA Theatre (651 Yonge Street)
running time: 2 hours, 10 minutes (including intermission)
Farren Timoteo in Made In Italy | Photo provided by the company