This weekend Gary and I joined Lady and Mr Rose for a matinee performance of Theatre Calgary's Jake and the Kid. It made me nostalgic for a Saskatchewan that existed 40 years before I was born, but in so many ways, is the Saskatchewan I grew up in.
Saskatchewan gets a lot of flack. I give it my fair share, too. My boyfriend frequently comments on how boooooring it is to drive through, and how much better his home province is. Yes, BC is Canada's Golden Child, and everything there smells like fresh nature and green trees and joy rains from the skies and unicorns run free. I get it.
But the flat, stark beauty of the prairies shouldn't be ignored.
Jake and the Kid was a show that won me over with bling. The set design was marvelous. The wide-open feeling of the prairies that I found so suffocating as a teenager was captured with a multimedia display projected on stage. We saw the town of Crocus through the eyes of The Kid, at the scale of The Kid. Barn doors towered and the sky stretched out beyond belief. Only the chill of the Max Bell theatre reminded me that I wasn't in the dirty, dusty, dry prairie.
The production had some challenges- relationships that would have added depth to the production weren't explored, the show moved at a slow, loping pace- but Jake and the Kid is what it is.
And at the heart of it, it's a play that reminds us of the importance of faith, of community, and what happens when the two are combined.
At least, that's my take.
1 day ago