Over the past three years, Toronto’s housing crisis has generated copious volumes of hot air, handwringing, finger-pointing and action planning. But it’s never before felt quite so absurd, or prompted so much laughter, thanks to Crow’s Theatre’s The Bidding War.
The seat-filling satirical farce gleefully skewers the city’s overheated real estate market and the motivations and the personalities of the realtors and clients that are fuelling it. And as directed by Paolo Santalucia, this 11-person ensemble production delivers broad humour backed by surprising emotional depth: as pressures mount ever higher, the comedy becomes darker and more personal, in a distorted reflection of Toronto’s high-stakes, high-stress real-estate market.
At its core, The Bidding War revolves around four clients (each accompanied by their realtor) who find themselves competing with ever-more extreme tactics for “the last nice house in the city” during a frantic 24-hour bidding period. This diverse group counts among their numbers overleveraged parents and ambitious millennials, plus realtors who are balancing collegiality with the need to outrace, outwit and outlast one another, in order to land the prized sales commission. Michael Ross Albert’s script blends razor-sharp dialogue with the absurdities of farce, creating a world where different credible blends of desperation and greed fuel the characters’ escalating antics. Here, writ comically large, is the chaos and emotional toll of Toronto’s housing market. And it hits . . . well, a little too close to home.
The ensemble cast delivers uniformly standout performances. Peter Fernandes’ Sam is the newly licensed listing agent for the house: burdened by a questionable past selling Adderall in high school, he is desperate to make this first sale. Fernandes is delightful, imbuing the role with a mercurial and vulnerable mix of charm, candour, and flat-out Machiavellian ambition. Veronica Hortiguela provides a moving counterpoint as Sam’s friend June, the reluctant seller caught between personal attachment and financial necessity.
Sensing blood in the water are the buying agents. Aurora Browne chews the scenery as Blayne, a cagey, witty and ruthlessly ambitious alpha who is determined to secure the dream home at any cost. Sergio Di Zio brings charm, polish and just a touch of naivete to Greg, a retired actor-turned-realtor who is navigating the bidding chaos . . . and trying not to lose his soul. And finally, Sophia Walker channels a shrewd, sharp and straight-talking realtor who may be what Sam and Greg are destined to become.
The agents’ various clients are also brought to vivid life. Gregory Waters is hilarious as the self-serving, savvy-yet-obtuse bulldozer of a TikTok influencer who is seeking a foothold in Toronto’s housing market . . . because he can. Fiona Reid layers her portrayal of Miriam, a retired teacher who is also eying the house, with wry wit and savvy that ground some of the play’s most absurd moments. Amy Matysio shines as Lara, a very expectant mother feeling a desperate determination to land the house – even if it means browbeating her principled but overwhelmed husband Luke, played by an understated Gregory Prest. And finally, Izad Etemadi’s Donovan, who is almost obsessed with landing the property, is balanced by the dry grounding provided by Steven Sutcliffe as his street-parking-focused husband Ian.
Visually, the production is striking. Ken Mackenzie and Sim Suzer’s set design transforms the stage into a sleek, spacious showroom that conjures the kind of dream home that could incite a bidding war – while at the same time underscoring the fundamental commodification of the home. And Santalucia’s adroit direction energizes the production with impeccable pacing and tightly-choreographed entrances and exits from the street, the apparently well-appointed upstairs, and the ostensibly amazing backyard. From suspicious glances and cagey conversations to overlapping arguments and full-on physical altercations, the chaos – erupting outwards from this one property – captures the fever pitch of an extreme bidding war, even while leaving space for introspective moments that humanize all of these characters.The shifts from uproarious comedy to pathos to absurdity and near-tragedy drive home the absurdity of the situation . . . without ever shedding the veneer of credibility.
On the night when I saw the show, I was struck by the large number of early-career adults in the audience. I take this as a clear vote for The Bidding War’s relevance and relatability for a generation who increasingly find themselves priced out of home ownership in Toronto. Running until December 15, this cleverly constructed, smartly staged theatrical property merits a visit . . . before it’s snapped up and taken off the market. For tickets, visit crowstheatre.com.
© Arpita Ghosal, Sesaya Arts Magazine, 2024
