REVIEW
What: 4 1/2 (ig) Noble Truths
Where: Intrepid Theatre Club, 2-1609 Blanshard St.
When: May 20, 6:30 p.m.; May 21, 6 p.m.
Tickets: $18
Info: intrepidtheatre.com
Rating: Three stars (out of five)
It’s tragically ironic that on the same day we learned that Seattle rocker Chris Cornell had killed himself, an experimental solo show about living with depression opened as part of the Uno Festival.
It shows how pervasive mental illness can be, and how depression doesn’t discriminate.
In Thomas McKechnie’s 4 1/2 (ig) Noble Truths, the Toronto-based actor and playwright recaps his own experiences dealing with clinical depression since he was diagnosed at age 18.
“If you say ‘It’s OK!’ one more time, I will spit in your face,” he yells at one point, eliciting nervous laughter.
Inventively directed by Michael Reinhart, this achingly honest show conveys how exasperating it can be, not only coping with the disorder, but with the misconceptions that surround it.
McKechnie gets right to the point, turning in a highly physical performance in the form of a TED-type “lecture,” complete with a slide show.
What sets 4 1/2 (ig) Noble Truths apart is how he uses the slide projector, other props and the set itself to illustrate his state of mind.
Indeed, the show’s theatricality takes some getting used to, as McKechnie moves about a stage adorned with flexible, lightweight blue-and-white pedestals.
The moveable pieces contain objects including a carton of eggs, a silver bucket and a sledgehammer, all of which have their place, albeit with mixed results.
It’s unnerving to watch McKechnie frantically moving the eggs around on a table as he expresses the escalating pressures he’s feeling.
By the time there’s just one egg left, supporting a jumble of components from the geometric set, McKechnie has helped convey the impact of “It,” as he describes his depression.
The ensuing mountain of “stuff” reflects how overwhelmed he feels by his daily tasks.
Particularly heartbreaking is when he dramatizes the crippling anxiety he feels in a social situation involving alcohol, partygoers and a young woman he’s trying to approach without embarrassing himself.
While his monologue is disjointed at times and goes off the rails during parallels with Hamlet, there are highlights that are both insightful and amusing.
He riffs, for instance, on how he copes by drinking, writing-and-deleting text messages and getting “blips of serotonin” by scrolling through Facebook posts.
“You can’t use your friends as Tylenol,” he adds, before giving way to an unsettling bout of self-loathing in which he strikes himself.
Also powerful are his observations on how to cope with that inevitable query from well-meaning friends: “How are you?”
McKechnie is an engaging-enough performer once he gets into the groove, but his initial delivery is so rat-a-tat that the speed renders his message near-incomprehensible.
If he were to slow down a bit in these early sequences, it would surely increase the potency of his message.
It’s not as if he needs to shorten a show that clocks in at only 45 minutes.
While not everyone will agree, this production’s greatest misstep is a development that would be unfair to reveal here, one that takes it into the realm of interactive theatre, yielding a finale that feels half-baked.