For those of you who don’t yet have Cloud 9 tickets (and for those of you who do, but know you’ll want to go again), you now have a chance to win a pair of tickets to the show, dinner for two, and a backstage tour. Basically a perfect night out! So pencil Tuesday February 2nd into your calendar and enter by completing the phrase “I’m on Cloud 9 when….”

For inspiration, check out Evan’s take on what Cloud 9 means to him. Then head to our contest page to watch all the videos.

From the wings, before the cast got into costume

Last night was our Tech Dress (aka Technical Dress Rehearsal), the cast’s first run in full costume! They look truly amazing, Judith has done an incredible job. Today we’re working out some technical details on stage and then tonight is our final dress rehearsal before we get our first audience on Tuesday. It’s been a long week for everyone but spirits are high. I think all will much appreciate a day off to rest.

Evan makes a truly gorgeous woman and Ann-Marie is stunning as a blonde! The show is a real treat; it’s funny, touching and wonderfully bizarre.

John Stead demonstrating fight moves

Yesterday most of the cast got to play rough with John Stead, fight director extraordinaire.  It started off with Ann-Marie (playing 9-year-old Edward) getting the brunt of it, tussling with Evan over a doll and then receiving convincing slaps from both Evan (as mother Betty – note the ever-present heels) and Megan. Then it was David’s turn to give Ann-Marie a nice smack across the head.

Ann-Marie MacDonald and Evan Buliung rehearsing

Ann-Marie MacDonald and David Jansen practicing

The best was saved for last, with Evan and Megan (as Mrs. Saunders) giving “cat fight” a whole new twist. Blair finally got into the action, trying to tear the two of them apart.

John Stead supervising Megan Follows and Evan Buliung's cat fight

Time to pull Evan and Megan apart

I knew the play was fierce, with a kind of gritty, intentionally flat use of language that is mercilessly naturalistic with none of the embellishments of American naturalism – say the self-conscious cadences and cut-offs of Mamet, the lyricism of Tennesse Williams, the tragic earnestness of Arthur Miller. Then, just when I’ve decided the language is brutally spare, the play breaks into soliloquy. I look closer, and find the punctuation is…punctilious! The words are set as precisely as music, the punctuation an unerring clue to the pace and state of the speaker. I circle the “and’s” in my text. I circle the “very’s”. I count the number of lines until there’s finally a period and the stakes become clearer to me. I knew the play was funny when I heard us read it. Irreverent. Wicked. Packed with laughs of recognition and horror. And I’ve come to understand that the humour is both immanent in the situations, and deftly crafted in the lines themselves. I knew the play was the opposite of sentimental. Today I realized that it’s also terribly sad. I’ve gotten choked up at unexpected moments. Evan is the tallest and muscly-est person in the cast and he’s wearing high heels, and a gown with a corset (we’ve all made the inevitable jokes and continue to mine the endless possibilities for ridicule which will only deepen and get richer as we begin our backstage life together after opening) – he plays a woman whose ability to appear convincingly helpless is her bread and butter. When he/she stands on stage, alone, waiting, and watching, it’s heartbreaking.