Standing-room only at Martin’s Piano Bar, Newtown, Port-of-Spain. It’s a late start. Watch-checking for those who reached here at 7 pm. It’s 7.35. One young guy walks around with a notebook collecting a “cover charge” while another’s fiddling with a microphone on stage. Fela Kuti’s Water No Make Enemy is on the speakers. Feet tapping. Drinks flowing. The DJ is really getting into it. But it’s late. Enter theatre professor/director, and now playwright, Christine Menzies. It’s hot and noisy in here. No place, really, for a first reading. But it would have to do. The crowd is “more mature” than on a regular “open mike” night, busy-body Paul Brathwaite later explains. True Talk No Lie has been on for two years now. On May 28, it was an anniversary. A special one. It’s full of young people in here. In each hand, in the dim light, a glowing smartphone.
They’re scanning Maya Angelou quotes. The American literary icon died no more than 12 or 13 hours ago. Enter Belinda Barnes and Michael Cherrie. Eunice Alleyne, who has been sitting in the audience, walks over to the stage and is handed a script. Wait. There’s Errol Sitahal and, over there, Che Rodriguez. And isn’t that, George Gonzalez and young Vedesh Nath? Look, there’s Leela Sitahal. It’s a special night here alright. It’s also Menzies’ birthday and the first reading of the first act of her first play, She Come Back. It’s supposed to be an adaptation of a full-length play written in German by a Swiss playwright. There’s something about permission to perform the whole thing on some stage in the future, but nobody’s listening. But we never get to know the original name of the play, more by design than by accident. On stage is a cast of accomplished thespians, young Turks and “Katy” who manages the flow. The full reading of the play took place on June 4 at the Trinidad Theatre Workshop.
The dialogue proceeds at break-neck speed. One-liners back and forth. They’re all at an airport in the 1960s and things are hard. “Things so bad, they selling the Red House and the Cathedral.” Lesser performers might have bumbled and stumbled on this verbal rollercoaster. But the older hands on stage keep pace and the youngsters tag along competently. Collisions with Katy’s director’s notes occur, but not that much. Ice is being crushed at the bar but it’s hot in here. On stage, Chief Minister VJ Ali is not averse to making deals and the Archbishop is, let’s say, accommodating as the story unfolds. Penelope Buchenheimer (nee Johnson) is coming back—ostensibly with husband number seven—called “Seven” by Buchenheimer for convenience. The first one was the one who designed the “dump.” “His work was rubbish,” someone declares.
But Buchenheimer, who parachutes from the plane, and, we later learn, has been reduced through reckless adventurism to one leg and one hand, has a US$1 billion deal to make with the government. Something to do with “justice.” “Justice is not a commodity. It cannot be bought and sold!” Chuckles and knowing smiles across the audience. Forty-five minutes later, the audience exhales. Exeunt Menzies and half a constellation. Alleyne returns to her seat. Rodriquez bursts into raucous laughter. It’s a wrap. This has been a rare moment. Let’s now see who’s bold enough to take the stage as True Talk No Lie resumes. Doubles to chase a shrimp roti with slight pepper?
For more information about True Talk No Lie and other events at Martin’s call 622-6405.
Wesley Gibbings
Standing-room only at Martin’s Piano Bar, Newtown, Port-of-Spain. It’s a late start. Watch-checking for those who reached here at 7 pm. It’s 7.35.
One young guy walks around with a notebook collecting a “cover charge” while another’s fiddling with a microphone on stage.
Fela Kuti’s Water No Make Enemy is on the speakers. Feet tapping. Drinks flowing. The DJ is really getting into it.
But it’s late.
Enter theatre professor/director, and now playwright, Christine Menzies. It’s hot and noisy in here. No place, really, for a first reading. But it would have to do. The crowd is “more mature” than on a regular “open mike” night, busy-body Paul Brathwaite later explains.
True Talk No Lie has been on for two years now. On May 28, it was an anniversary. A special one. It’s full of young people in here. In each hand, in the dim light, a glowing smartphone.
They’re scanning Maya Angelou quotes. The American literary icon died no more than 12 or 13 hours ago.
Enter Belinda Barnes and Michael Cherrie. Eunice Alleyne, who has been sitting in the audience, walks over to the stage and is handed a script. Wait. There’s Errol Sitahal and, over there, Che Rodriguez. And isn’t that, George Gonzalez and young Vedesh Nath? Look, there’s Leela Sitahal. It’s a special night here alright.
It’s also Menzies’ birthday and the first reading of the first act of her first play, She Come Back. It’s supposed to be an adaptation of a full-length play written in German by a Swiss playwright.
There’s something about permission to perform the whole thing on some stage in the future, but nobody’s listening.
But we never get to know the original name of the play, more by design than by accident. On stage is a cast of accomplished thespians, young Turks and “Katy” who manages the flow. The full reading of the play took place on June 4 at the Trinidad Theatre Workshop.
The dialogue proceeds at break-neck speed. One-liners back and forth. They’re all at an airport in the 1960s and things are hard. “Things so bad, they selling the Red House and the Cathedral.”
Lesser performers might have bumbled and stumbled on this verbal rollercoaster. But the older hands on stage keep pace and the youngsters tag along competently. Collisions with Katy’s director’s notes occur, but not that much. Ice is being crushed at the bar but it’s hot in here.
On stage, Chief Minister VJ Ali is not averse to making deals and the Archbishop is, let’s say, accommodating as the story unfolds. Penelope Buchenheimer (nee Johnson) is coming back—ostensibly with husband number seven—called “Seven” by Buchenheimer for convenience. The first one was the one who designed the “dump.”
“His work was rubbish,” someone declares.
But Buchenheimer, who parachutes from the plane, and, we later learn, has been reduced through reckless adventurism to one leg and one hand, has a US$1 billion deal to make with the government. Something to do with “justice.”
“Justice is not a commodity. It cannot be bought and sold!” Chuckles and knowing smiles across the audience. Forty-five minutes later, the audience exhales. Exeunt Menzies and half a constellation. Alleyne returns to her seat. Rodriquez bursts into raucous laughter. It’s a wrap.
This has been a rare moment. Let’s now see who’s bold enough to take the stage as True Talk No Lie resumes. Doubles to chase a shrimp roti with slight pepper?