In a world of runaway price increases, what would happen if a group of everyday shoppers staged an uprising at a grocery store, refusing to pay outrageous prices that have been steadily climbing beyond their reach – and instead simply took what they wanted, and paid only what they felt it was worth? This provocative question sets the tone for Toronto’s Alumnae Theatre’s lively and raucous new production of Low Pay? Don’t Pay!, a play that feels startlingly relevant, despite having been written exactly 50 years earlier by Nobel Prize-winning playwright Dario Fo.
Fo, a left-wing advocate, wrote the play during a time of economic crisis and labor strikes in Italy, and it shines a sharp light on the absurdities and injustices of capitalism. It was then translated and updated in 2010 by Joseph Farrell, who tucked in a number of modern updates – most notably, discussions of sub-prime mortgages. The resulting play is flat-out hilarious, and its humour travels well across time and space. The play’s themes of economic inequality, skyrocketing costs of living, and the constant struggle for fair wages ring just as true today in a world reeling from the effects of inflation, high interest rates, precarious work and technological change. Alumnae Theatre’s production of this biting satire feels perfectly timed, and it’s impossible to watch it in 2024 Toronto without feeling the sting of recognition.
At the heart of the play are Antonia (Michelle Paré), the working-class woman whose desperation drives her to help “liberate” the groceries during a spontaneous store protest, and her more grounded friend Margherita (Ailsa Wilson), whom the overbearing Antonia breezily browbeats into becoming her unwitting accomplice. The play’s initial conflict stems from the fact that Antonia’s factory worker husband, Giovanni, played by Quaid Lale with a hilarious mix of opinionated bluster and incredulity, is a man who is “proud to be a loser in a world full of robbers”. At the play’s inception, he claims the moral high ground: he simply will not tolerate the presence of stolen goods, no matter how extreme their need. And at the same time, the police are searching for the stolen groceries.
What ensues is an escalating sequence of absurd and uproariously funny situations. From Antonia stuffing contraband groceries under her coat to an out-of-control series of escalating lies about pet food meal planning, pregnancies, miracles, theft and political conspiracies, the play is a non-stop parade of comedic set pieces. Paré’s energetic Antonia is a comedic powerhouse: her loud quick thinking and non-stop scheming propel the action forward, as she concocts more and more elaborate stories to cover up her actions and evade the police and her husband — only to dig herself deeper and deeper into trouble. And Lale’s blustering Giovanni is her perfect foil, with his bombastic declarations and often-insightful moral outrage, undermined by his obliviousness to the ridiculous situations he is being thrown into.
Under Isabella Cesari’s energetic direction, the couple evoke nothing less than a modern-day, full-colour version of The Honeymooners – with Giovanni’s over-the-top Ralph Kramden persona and antics matched by Antonia’s Alice-like pragmatism, financial acumen and resourcefulness. And Giovanni’s best friend and Margherita’s husband Luigi (played by a laconically quizzical Ethan Keyes) takes on the more good-natured and credulous Ed Norton persona, with delightful comic results. In the performance I attended, Alex Gruspier played the multiple madcap roles (usually played by Eliza Smith) with gusto – including a pair of policemen with divergent political sympathies – and landing on the receiving end of endless sly asides about uncanny resemblances . . . and working-class theatrical productions that feature actors playing multiple roles.
The farcical brilliance of Low Pay? Don’t Pay! is enhanced by its use of Commedia dell’ Arte-style performances, which the cast members lean into with gusto. Almost every movement, gesture, and line delivery is oversized, bombastic, and exaggerated, keeping the energy high and the laughs coming. This loud, physical style suits the play’s absurdist tone, and allows the actors to fully inhabit their roles as exaggerated archetypes of the “proletariat”.
The play’s central conflict emerges from these characters’ clumsy but well-intentioned attempts to navigate a system that has been stacked against them, and the chaos that ensues as they attempt to balance their ethics with the pressing need to put food on the table. And beneath this impossible conflict, the play poses a single killer question repeatedly, in different voices at different moments. In a world that is run by usurious bankers, exploitative merchants, larcenous landlords and wage- and job-slashing employers . . . why is theft only a crime – and only punished by police action –when it is committed by the working class? The play’s political commentary hits especially close to home, particularly in a post-pandemic world. For instance, when Luigi suggests that employers should pay for their workers’ transportation costs and travel time, the idea lands differently in 2024, when conversations about remote work, labor rights, and fair compensation have gained new inflections.
In the hands of this skilled cast and director, Low Pay? Don’t Pay! is not a piece of historical theater, but a biting critique of modern capitalism. And its final twist? A meta-narrative corkscrew – like something pulled from the fevered imagination of Grant Morrison – which brings the play to one of the most strange, surreal and thought-provoking conclusions you’ll see in a Toronto theatre this year.
Alumnae Theatre’s production of Low Pay? Don’t Pay! is a rare treat: an epic farce that’s both laugh-out-loud funny and deeply resonant with the contemporary milieu and practical challenges of the audience watching it.
Low Pay? Don’t Pay! Runs until October 6, 2024 at Alumnae Theatre. Reserve tickets on alumnaetheatre.com. The company is holding a food drive during its run to alleviate food precarity. Audiences are welcome to bring nonperishable food items for donation.
© Scott Sneddon, Sesaya Arts Magazine, 2024
