Rick Miller in HARDSELL. Photo by Michael Cooper.
HARDSELL
Created by Rick Miller and Daniel Brooks
Directed by Daniel Brooks
Performed by Rick Miller
Presented by Necessary Angel and WYRD Productions
In association with The Canadian Stage Company
Runs until May 9 @ The Berkeley Street Theatre
By Matt McGeachy
CIBC. For what matters.
This, among other flashy slogans and ads, permeated the screen behind Rick Miller during his unique performance in HARDSELL, a theatrical experience that mixes vaudeville, (self-righteous) lectures on a myriad of topics, puppet performance, and multi-media. The result is interesting, preachy, and extremely intelligent, but felt like a session of psychoanalysis that went on too long — and none of the audience really has credentials to get inside Miller’s head.
Miller takes on the persona of Arnie, the twin brother of Rick Miller separated from him at birth. Arnie, predictably, is everything Rick isn’t: he’s vulgar, venal, and very sad. Arnie has been married several times, but each time his marriage dissolves because, he tells us, he is married to the stage, and to us. Miller adopts one of his trademark beautiful voices to bring Arnie to life; something of a mix of tobacco stained linen and bourbon on the rocks. Throughout the show, Miller also voices characters such as Dr. Klot Fugger, the German analyst uncle with whom he was raised, and Violet, a foul-mouthed puppet.
At issue is the hard sell. Everything, including the theatre, a “temple” of the ancient human art, has been reduced to mere consumption. Everything has a brand to be sold — including Arnie, and Miller himself — and we humans, the empty vessels of consumption, are to be filled with slogans and marketing material that takes advantage of our unconscious desires. The audience is implicated in everything from the venal consumption of the holy theatrical arts to the mindless consumption of cola to the failure of Arnie’s marriages. A call to citizenship is expected, and surely we do get it. All this is interesting enough, but as a theme for the arts (and indeed the wider sphere of social criticism) the topic is beginning to wear thin.
Which is why, despite the erudition of Miller and collaborator Daniel Brooks and the talent of everyone involved in this production, it seems tired despite its fresh veneer. Yes, we live in a “mercantile democracy” (well, alright, a “mercantile constitutional monarchy”) where consumption is part of life. Yes, the arts are consumed, and this sometimes brings with it unfortunate consequences. But ultimately consumption can be reconceived as a political act, and it must be if we are to regain any kind of sense of citizenship. The dichotomy between “consumers” and “citizens” will have to be bridged somehow into a conception of “consumer-citizens” is we are to live in a world where we can reconcile our behaviour with our ideals. This show does not do much to bridge the gap.
Erudite, challenging, technically beautiful, yes. Worth seeing, sure. But only if you haven’t started working through this stuff already.
