Trish Lundstrom as Mimi. Photo by Cylla von Tiedemann.
Mimi, Or A Poisoner’s Comedy
Lyrics and music by Allen Cole
Book and lyrics by Melody A. Johnson and Rick Roberts
Directed by Alisa Palmer
Runs September 15 – October 25 @ Tarragon Theatre
By Daina Valiulis
As the cast gleefully sings at the end of this show, “All good (and bad) things come to an end.” Thank goodness they do.
Based on the true story of the French seventeenth-century murderess the Marquise de Brinvilliers (Trish Lundstrom), Mimi tells the tale of a “bad” girl who basically can’t help herself. Her father (Victor A. Young) threatens to cut her off from the family fortune if she doesn’t stop her affair with Godin de Sainte-Croix (Ron Pederson), despite the fact that Mimi’s husband (Martin Julien) and the maid (Tamara Bernier Evans) are sharing the same bed before his very eyes. So Papa banishes the lover to the Bastille and Mimi attempts to be good by feeding the poor her saintly mother’s pigeon pies. Meanwhile, Sainte-Croix learns about poison from an Italian prisoner in the Bastille, escapes, and plots with Mimi to murder her father. Obviously, her attempt to be “good” fails miserably and she becomes addicted to murdering people.
This production failed to capture from the get-go: it began with a campy number consisting of pedantic and dull sexual allusions and double entendres, going for cheap laughs. The music, plain and unremarkable, did not get much better as the play progressed. Rather than furthering the plot in constructive ways or giving us a glimpse of a character’s inner workings, it served only to stagnate and lengthen the show. The worst part occurs in the second act when, for some reason, King Louis XIV appears with his detective, who sings a song about the “poor little pigeon” he finds with an arrow through its heart — the main ingredient of a certain murderess’ pigeon pies. Why was this song necessary? What did it offer?
In another scene, Mimi sings evilly about pigeon pie, the perfect means to poison her victims, calling to mind Stephen Sondheim’s Sweeney Todd — unfortunate because it makes this production seem cheap in comparison. Sweeney is incredibly musically complex, intricate, deep, and stunningly crafted with the perfect balance of sophisticated humor and darkness. If you are going to hint at it, you’d better be prepared for the comparison.
On a positive note, the set was very clever, dominated primarily by a giant frame upstage housing a reflective surface upon which the performers’ reflections could be seen throughout the production. A stunning scene, visually, occurs when Mimi sings about pigeon pie and her dead mother appears behind the reflection alongside Mimi’s own. It was also clever towards the end to see two reflections of Mimi when she is caught, depicting her duplicity, however lazily established by the script.
In the end, Mimi too often goes for the cheap laugh with very little substance. As Sainte-Croix says to Mimi: “You must be spectacularly good to be spectacularly bad” — an apt statement. Campiness must be earned and it is a very fine line. Everything else must be spectacularly strong in support, which is unfortunately where Mimi, or a Poisoner’s Comedy falls apart.
I must say, that i completely disagree.
I thought Mimi was a hilarious and well performed script. Perhaps it didn’t have the emotional weight or “substance” as The Drowning Girls, happening alongside it, in the extra space, but it sure made me laugh!
I loved the colourful characters, the clever set, the pointless songs about pigeon pies, the sexual allusions and the double entendres. But sometimes i do enjoy a cheap, dirty sex joke when i feel like being entertained at the theatre.
It’s a shame, but I suppose most of the audience felt your way. No one around me was laughing at the funny bits and at one point I had to look around and see if the audience were sitting on their hands. Come on people! Theatre is an interactive sport.
I am new to Toronto and in this last week I have been to see Rock n Roll, Mimi and The Drowning Girls and in all audiences a majority seem to be geriatric. So perhaps its an age difference thing. I suppose at 70 you have heard every possible sexual allusion and double entendre and they’re just not funny anymore. Maybe when I’m 70 this play won’t be as enjoyable!