Jordan Jerry Kuper & Noah Grittani in Knife | Photo by Maggie Stemp-Turner
While a couple of my theatrical pet peeves are rattling about in this inaugural presentation by Stagepunk Theatre, there is also a lot for me to love about writer-director Eric Trudell’s first full-length effort. I admire the fuck out of Knife. It captures the mundane, highly relatable interactions of working life in an understated scenario that is naturalistically amusing and builds towards moments of genuine emotive power. I also greatly appreciate how it normalizes straight men being unequivocally vulnerable and emotionally available for each other.
For most of its runtime, we witness a morning routine play out, again and again—these men gathering to chat before heading out to sell knives door-to-door. Right away, the dialogue establishes a casual, awkward and authentic dynamic between these guys. Tanner (José Andrés Bordas), the eldest, is always sprawled out on this picnic table, a little guarded, fatigued and world-weary—we know something’s up with him. Isaac (Jordan Jerry Kuper) is overly talkative, seems desperate for validation. Luke (Noah Grittani), the youngest at barely nineteen, is the new-comer, disrupting their dynamic as he awkwardly tries to fit in. As each episode enfolds, their life circumstances are revealed, tension mounts between them and their investment in each other deepens.
Trudell’s play does a fine job of conveying the monotony and existential angst of a schmo-job. His portrait of work friendships is messy and honest. Though we don’t necessarily choose them, work relationships are very real, even if—often because!—they are confined by the job. I love how clingy, possessive and unhinged these guys get. There’s some pretty wild melodrama here that’s both goofy and real.
Trudell plants details that pay-off well as the scenario unfolds and effectively establishes their distinct stages of life. Tanner, in his thirties, a little estranged from his wife and child, is cynical and curmudgeonly. Luke is gearing up for university, full of naive optimism. Isaac, sort of in the middle and settling—albeit uncomfortably—into place as a team lead and figure of authority. Tanner’s health issues are a significant plot point, though I’m not sure I quite buy the motivational circumstances of his eventual fate. That said, Trudell seems very aware that people in our lives can struggle more acutely than we recognize, even at such close proximity.
Of the three, I found Grittani the most consistently compelling. His body language especially is the most convincing as he bounds about and squirms, his youth and try-hard energy both cringy and endearing. I warmed to Kuper towards the end, when the stakes of this story ramp up and his intensity follows suit. I feel the most ambivalent towards Bordas’ performance. His brooding vibes are on point, with manic bursts of enthusiasm and despondency that resonant, but I was irritated by his tendency to flail his arms and smack them against his body in a way that might seem spontaneous and natural, but which I found theatrically distracting.
On the subject of theatrical distraction, the other pet peeve of mine relates to spatial dynamics, an aspect of staging I am obsessively conscious of. Millie Cameron’s set is quite functional and aesthetically pleasing—a picnic table on a patch of grass. Here’s the thing though: if you have representational scenic elements, establishing a realistic environment, I need the actors to adhere to them. In other words, people need to stay on the grass unless going off the grass means something.
I’m also not convinced we needed the scene with Reggie (Gabriel Hudson), a managerial presence who comes out of nowhere when the shit really hits the fan. If you are going to have an actor waiting in the wings for a single bit part, you sort of need to make it worth their while. Hudson’s preppy and punctilious persona is an effectively jarring contrast from the others, but he seems a little uncomfortable and under-rehearsed. Trudell and dramaturg Mya Wong should, I think, revisit this scene which, in its currently form, can be removed entirely without effecting the story.
Overall, this is very funny (the shroom-chocolate eclipse episode killed me!) and, eventually, rather moving. I’m looking forward to whatever comes next for Stagepunk Theatre.
Knife
April 22 to 26, 2026
The Theatre Centre, BMO Incubator
(1115 Queen St. W.)
1 hour, 40 minutes (no intermission)
Jordan Jerry Kuper, José Andrés Bordas & Noah Grittani in Knife | Photos by Maggie Stemp-Turner