Ho Ka Kei’s Prophetess, now playing at Tarragon Theatre, is a play about grief, but not just the sadness that comes with losing someone. It looks at how differently people deal with loss, how grief can take many forms, and how the expectations of others can make an already difficult experience even harder. What happens when the people around you don’t understand your grief, or simply don’t want to deal with it?
At the centre of the story is Margaret, the chair of a university English department, whose husband Henry has died. Played by Karen Robinson, Margaret is struggling to find her way in a world that no longer makes much sense to her. She has become increasingly isolated, and the people around her seem unable or unwilling to understand what she is going through. Some of her colleagues even plot to have her removed from her university position, something that eventually happens. In the process, she loses not only her husband but also the job and sense of purpose that have been central to her life.
Robinson is terrific. This is a very emotional role, and she does a remarkable job of capturing Margaret’s grief, confusion and loneliness. There are moments when the character is difficult to reach, but Robinson makes us understand why she is the way she is. She is the heart of the production, and it’s a performance that stays with you.
The supporting cast is also very good, particularly the younger character Anne (played spectacularly by Natasha Mumba) who seems to be the one person capable of reaching Margaret. She offers something that has been missing from Margaret’s life, whether that’s friendship, understanding or simply a connection with another person. After so much time spent alone and feeling misunderstood, this relationship offers Margaret a possible way forward, or at least a bit of hope.
A nob also to the highly skilled Christine Horne who plays the all-too-familiar HR nemesis Elizabeth to great comedic and sometimes dramatic effect.
One of the more interesting aspects of the play is how it looks at the way people are expected to grieve. Margaret’s colleagues don’t know how to deal with her, and rather than trying to understand her situation, they seem more interested in getting her out of the way. Losing her position at the university only adds to her sense of isolation, taking away one of the few things she has left. It’s an interesting way of looking at grief, and how people who don’t fit the expected pattern of mourning can find themselves further pushed aside.
There are some moving theatrical moments, including the opening speech by Margaret, delivered under a spotlight. It’s a dramatic and effective way to introduce the character, and the off-kilter nature of her reality, although it goes on a little too long. That’s a problem with a few of the speeches in the play. There is some good writing here, but at times the characters spend so long explaining their thoughts that the impact starts to wear off.
Other elements are harder to make sense of. The spiders, which appear early in the play and continue to show up, are a good example. They’re certainly strange and unsettling, but what they add to the story or what they’re supposed to represent never becomes particularly clear. Could it be the venomous nature of language, or the idea of getting caught in a web? Maybe. Or, perhaps the playwright has a thing for insects? Rather than helping us understand Margaret’s experience, this undeveloped idea sometimes just leaves things more confusing. Similarly, Rick Roberts plays both Henry and Dicky. There is some comedy in the decision, but it doesn’t quite work, and feels like an unnecessary complication in a play that already has plenty going on.
The dinner party near the end is where many of the play’s ideas come together. Some of the themes around Margaret’s grief become clearer, but other elements seem to get lost along the way. It’s an ambitious scene, with two epic monologues but it also highlights a problem with the play: there are a lot of ideas, and not all of them are developed as fully as they could be.
Take the character of Dicky, a former student of Margaret. This character’s appearance enrages Margaret, and leads to a full breakdown. Why? We don’t really find out. He is part comedic intervention with his floppy hair and obvious odorous mannerisms towards women but there needs to be more here given the reaction to his appearance.
There is more than a little Shakespeare woven into this play, which is inspired by the Bard’s History plays — yes, we have a Margaret and we have a Richard. In the final act, Margaret unleashes a torrent of insults upon Dicky that is truly Shakespearean in the best possible way.
The play, directed by Mike Payette, could be much more.
That’s not to say Prophetess doesn’t work. Its central story about grief is strong, and there are some genuinely moving moments. But the play occasionally gets in its own way, introducing ideas and characters that don’t quite connect or add enough to the story. A little more focus and a little less explanation might have made it even stronger.
Still, Prophetess is a worthwhile and often moving production, with an outstanding performance by Robinson. It’s also the kind of play that gets people talking afterwards, which is a good thing. There is plenty to discuss about grief, how we deal with it and how we treat those who are struggling with it. Not every idea lands, but the central one is worth spending 90 minutes with.
Prophetess runs at the Tarragon Theatre until Oct. 25.