REVIEW: Enormity, Girl, and the Earthquake in Her Lungs offers a riveting spiral into the mind of a woman in crisis
A young woman enters a room. There’s a bare bed, a garbage bag of her belongings, and a closed door. These are the facts that she clings to, attempting to ground herself in reality.
A helper has instructed the young woman, who we come to know as Vic (Vivien Endicott-Douglas), to make the bed, change her clothes, and take a minute to herself. This series of seemingly simple tasks unravels her psyche, as five other performers playing distinct parts of Vic’s mind persuade her to complete the tasks or abandon the room altogether. Amid the psychological barrage, Vic and her parts — who play characters in flashbacks to her tumultuous childhood — try to piece together the story of how she got here.
Enormity, Girl, and the Earthquake in Her Lungs, produced by Nightwood Theatre in association with Tarragon Theatre, is a tightly paced drama peppered with much-needed comedic relief. Playwright Chelsea Woolley’s text unflinchingly tackles the complexities of mental illness and domestic abuse with thoughtfulness and care.
The show is approximately an hour-and-a-half long, but in the world of the story, it all takes place in only 10 minutes. Woolley’s choice to manipulate time in this way is clever and appropriate, allowing the audience to feel the enormity of what someone undergoing a mental health crisis might experience over a few minutes.
This is the first Nightwood show in its new venue, the Nancy & Ed Jackman Performance Centre, which is shared with Tapestry Opera. The theatre is on the smaller side with risers that can seat about 140 audience members. It’s a comfortable and intimate space that feels suitable for a show that dives deeply into a character’s innermost layers.
Woolley structures the script as a series of crescendoing spirals in which Vic and her parts fall into compulsive thought patterns and unearth fragments of traumatic memories. Lighting designer Raha Javanfar reflects this in patterns of coils and cracks on the brick walls during the show’s more heightened moments. Ting – Huan 挺歡 Christine Urquhart’s barren set design becomes fittingly cluttered with props as the chaos unfolds.
Cosette “Ettie” Pinn’s soundscape drives the tension of the show to its peaks. Pinn uses pinging text messages, echoing voices, and accelerating heartbeats to reflect the overwhelming mental state of a person on the brink of a breakdown.
The ensemble is energized and precise, particularly in their execution of Lisa Karen Cox’s movement direction. They go from stiffly waltzing around the room to boxing invisible beings to frolicking in imaginary fields. Director Andrea Donaldson stages the cast with drastic shifts to follow the push and pull of Vic’s executive functioning; the performers go from scattering across the playing space to clumping together in under a minute. Her staging injects the movement score with urgency and manic excitement.
Each member of the cast navigates the frantic energy with clear intentions and groundedness. A standout for me is Bria McLaughlin, who shows an impressive range as Ago, a youthful part of Vic’s mind that delivers both comedic and harrowing lines with sincerity and depth. Endicott-Douglas is a captivating lead; her monologues effortlessly hooked me in.
A child character, played by Noa Simone Furlong at the performance I attended, intensifies the show’s emotional impact. Though she isn’t on stage for long, her brief presence is breathtaking — at times shocking, and at others like a balm on the heart.
Reenactments of Vic’s memories are disturbing yet understated, honouring the weight of the material without sensationalizing it. Intimacy and fight director Christina Fox stages moments of contact between performers with just enough tension to heighten the story without being overwhelming to watch.
The cast and crew, along with mental health experts and shelter workers, are conducting occasional post-show discussions during the show’s run, delving deeper into the text’s sociopolitical themes. There wasn’t one after the performance I attended, though I would’ve loved to hear from the performers and panelists. It’s evident that the production’s team is committed to extending its practices of care beyond the stage and into the communities they’re performing for.
Enormity, Girl, and the Earthquake in Her Lungs is a heavyweight show that masterfully tackles the inner worlds of traumatized individuals in crisis. Its emotional resonance is seismic.
Enormity, Girl, and the Earthquake in Her Lungs runs at Nancy & Ed Jackman Performance Centre until October 5. Tickets are available here.
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