There’s nothing like the sheer terror of waking up hungover to discover the bad decision your alter ego made the night before. Particularly when that bad decision saunters into your kitchen and greets you with cheerful full-frontal. If that’s not enough to push you over the edge, throw in an impending blizzard that will instantly kill anyone who ventures outside.
This is the unfortunate life of Gus (Hayden Jackson, U3 Arts), forced to confront his drunken one-night stand within the confines of his studio. The casual and cocky Theo (Sam Snyder, U2 Arts) proceeds to needle his uptight ways, goading him into doing the Proust Questionnaire. They partake in the typical activities of prideful intellectuals, from insulting each others’ book tastes to sassy matches of chess. Their tension relieves itself in a galvanizing fit of passion which quickly turns to panic when Gus realizes that the man for whom his affection has grown is pure evil. An ambiguous ending leaves audiences wondering who Theo really was: The devil, or just another nonchalant man.
From the first shocked exclamation to the last blood-curdling scream, Tuesday Night Cafe’s (TNC) production of Sphynx captivated audiences. The storyline, composed of commonplace dialogues and impactful silences, successfully conveyed the flawed intricacies of human relationships that so often elude attempts of romantic realism. Writer-directors Jack Bouchard (U2 Arts) and Odessa Rontogiannis (U2 Arts) embedded within humorous dialogue layers of awkwardly authentic connection. The limited confines of TNC’s space were stretched to creative capacity, enabling the audience to become flies on the walls of Gus’s apartment. And the acting felt so natural, as if the words were not lines, but conversations spilling from the actors’ lips.
Jackson’s portrayal of Gus was rich with raw emotion, augmenting the intimate realism of the play. He fell fully into his character of the awkward tortured artist in body, delivery, and interaction. His Jesse Eisenberg-esque voice cracks and erratic intonation were effortless, and the shaking of his hands so realistic that it may have been mistaken for nerves. His frantic interactions with pans and paintbrushes brought the space alive whilst betraying his obsessive compulsion for control.
Snyder’s enigmatic interpretation of Theo was dominating and eccentric, walking the tightrope of pleasure and spectacle. He projected carelessness in his body language: Sitting with his leg tossed in front of him, or intrusively rifling through Gus’s particularly placed belongings. His delivery of suggestive quips was skillfully natural; one example being his response to Gus’s rumination of not pegging him as a particular personality: “You didn’t peg me at all.”
The duo’s chemistry was so natural that it felt like an intrusion to observe. The lack of seamlessness in their interactions mimicked the familiar ebb and flow of strangers turning friends. Even in scenes that were not meant to be intimate, Jackson and Snyder were able to create palpable tension through glances and body language.
An honourable mention goes out to Ryan Jacoby (U0 Science), who plays Radio (literally); he stretched his role to its comedic limits. His delivery of well-placed interjections had audiences roaring with laughter. Whether it was a timely, high-volume condom ad—or the remarkably sentient comment of “Will you two just fuck already?”—Jacoby carved an unmistakable presence. He added a dynamic aspect to his static character by serving as a “Jim Halpert cam” for Gus, the two exchanging periodic glances at Theo’s flamboyance.
The production made refreshingly clever use of sound effects, props, and stage direction. Whether it was to spotlight Radio, to disguise a quick change, or to preserve the confidentiality of the intimate scenes, “fades to black” were tactfully employed. Lifting the lights to reveal snippets of dialogue and interaction in and amongst the implied intimacy emphasized the closeness of sex that goes beyond the act itself.
Sphynx was a beautifully executed piece from inception to production—a wonderful example of McGill students’ creative talents. It exemplified the messiness of human connection whilst reminding us of how a one-night stand can go so terribly wrong.
