“Angélique” is an important Canadian play. It shows us how little we know about our country and its less than savoury past. It is not as difficult a watch as you would imagine, and in doing so it teaches and inspires more than it preaches and laments. Strong performances, and a watertight and fast-moving narrative make sure you are entertained through and through in this A Black Theatre Workshop and Tableau D’Hôte Theatre co-production.
Canadian history always gets a pass because American history just looks so damn bad in comparison! As Canadians we pride ourselves on being more liberal, accepting, peaceful and, quite plainly, less stupid than Americans. But how many of these assumptions have arisen because we get to hide in the shadow of our big, lumbering brother, south of the border? Our historical and social faults never gain as much attention and so, we never get to fix them. How do you fix something if you don’t acknowledge that it exists?
Most Canadians will tell you they didn’t learn about slavery in Canada during high school, except when it was mentioned in the context of the underground railroad – the ultimate haven for free slaves. It is this misguided history that “Angélique” corrects.
Perhaps we’re not as ethical and righteous and woke as we think ourselves to be. Perhaps our handsome prime minister is not the feminist he claims to be when he fires women from his cabinet, or the environmentalist he claims to be when he buys a pipeline, or the supporter of indigenous rights he says he is when he fails to do anything about missing indigenous women after running on a platform to seek justice for them. Doug Ford gets elected and people show up to see Jordan Peterson and Steve Bannon speak. Year after year in city after city, there is little to no diversity in elected officials. Our prisons are disproportionately occupied by Indigenous bodies. Indigenous genocide is the shameful foundation of our country and yet it goes undiscussed in our public and private spheres. Bigotry has always existed in Canada but our obsession with looking perfect has always stopped us from eradicating it for once and for all. What “Angélique” does best is highlight this very hypocrisy.
We aren’t so perfect after all!
Written by Lorena Gale in 1998, the play tells the true story of a black slave, Marie-Josephe dite Angélique, who was hanged in 1734, for starting a fire that burned down the city of Montreal. We see Angélique come to Canada from the Portuguese island of Madeira, scared but wide-eyed and somehow still optimistic. Her optimism gradually fades as she becomes the object of her owner’s lustful fixations. Angélique then becomes a vessel for her mistress’s wrath. Her mistress, Therese, is helpless as her survival depends entirely on her husband’s whims. To alleviate the problematic situation, Angélique is forcibly paired up with Cesar, another black slave. She gives birth to several children who don’t live long. Her sadness and discontent grow as she is tested with mounting disappointments. She falls in love with a poor white man, Claude, but things take a turn when upon her owner’s death, Therese decides to sell Angélique to somebody else. This pushes Angélique to an edge from where she can never return.
Slave narratives are difficult to watch, especially for people of colour. These stories are more for educating white folk than anything else. However, “Angélique” does something more than just represent a slave narrative. It unearths a slice of shameful Canadian history that has conveniently not been talked about Slaves very much existed in Canada, and they were abused and mistreated just as brutally and frequently as they were in America.
The setting of “Angélique” might seem novel for a slave narrative. We don’t usually see slave narratives set in the Canadian landscape with its extreme weather that is so starkly different from the homes of their protagonists. Gale does a fantastic job of giving Angélique’s character depth and well-roundedness. She re-imagines a woman who, despite her sorrows, finds the ability to laugh, dance, joke, expect love, fight back and most of all, expect a better life for herself. The balance between Angélique’s tragic circumstances and the lighter moments in her day to day, domestic life, ensures that the play never gets too heavy. We are never bogged down with misery. There is always a release of tension when it’s most needed.
Jenny Brizard brings Angélique to life with great earnest. She lends Angélique a childlike innocence in the beginning and then expertly subtracts from it with every blow dealt to her spirit. Watching her raw emotions on stage is moving to say the least. Cesar, Angélique’s husband, is also a delight to watch. Although he has a small role, he shines when he injects humour into his scenes and displays tenderness when looking out for Angélique. France Rolland who plays Therese, the owner’s wife, is excellent as the Khloe Kardashian-like figure who focuses on blaming the other woman instead of her own husband. Her complicated emotions are represented well by Rolland and we see how access to power over Angélique lets Therese misplace her frustrations all too easily. Therese’s experience in relation to Angélique’s is a lesson in intersectional feminism. We are shown how the oppression of white women through history bred a rage that was unloaded on to people of colour, and most times, on to women of colour.
One of the most interesting artistic elements of the play is its mix of contemporary costumes with traditional 18th-century ones. For example, in the beginning, we see Angélique’s owner in a corporate suit and his wife in modern workwear as they decide to buy Angélique who is dressed in a peasant blouse and skirt. Later we see Cesar in a hood as he is lighting a cigar for his white master who is in full 18th-century attire. And finally, when Angélique is about to be hanged, we see her in an orange jumpsuit. All these costume choices pull us out of the play to the present and emphasise that these scenes of abuse of power could very well be happening in the present day. Another favourite scene of mine happens between Angélique and her indigenous counterpart, Manon, who insists she does not slave but that she serves. I have never seen this dynamic explored on stage between two distinctly disadvantaged women of colour, and that too done so well. An exploration of this dynamic could be a whole play on its own.
The scenes about the fire that depict how rumours built up about Angélique being responsible for the fire are executed expertly. All the actors come together to play random townsfolk, adding so to speak, fuel to the fire -quite like the fake news atmosphere we’ve got going on today. The play gains momentum when the fire breaks out and the rumours run wild. We feel Angélique becoming trapped with nowhere to run. The end is refreshing and not what you expect. I can’t say much but it leaves you reassured that Angélique was a fighter and not a victim. We go into the play knowing full well how it ends and yet sit rapt till the end to find out how it all unfolded. This is thanks to the sheer prowess of Gale’s writing.
I couldn’t complete this review without mentioning the majestic set that consists of marvellous wooden pillars, ladders, bunk beds and several intelligently designed moving parts. The main stage is split into two with the top floor inhabited by an elaborate band playing background and atmospheric music throughout. The band gives the audience access to another dimension of enjoyment. With the realistic set and the evocative music, “Angélique” sensually immerses you in the world that consumed its heroine.
Do yourself a favour and go see this beautiful history lesson.
Angélique plays at Factory Theatre in Toronto. Get your tickets here!
– Prachi Kamble