For an American – for a member of “We the People of the United States”, the phrase with which the Constitution of the United States famously opens — what does it actually mean to have one’s rights protected by it?
This question pulses at the heart of What the Constitution Means to Me, currently enjoying its Canadian premiere at Soulpepper’s Michael Young Theatre. Presented in collaboration with Nightwood Theatre, Necessary Angel Theatre Company, and Talk is Free Theatre, the production invites audiences to reflect on the promises—and failures—of foundational rights during the run-up and aftermath of a fraught US election whose subtext has been their tenuousness.
Written by Heidi Schreck, What the Constitution Means to Me became a sensation in the United States, earning Tony Award nominations and a Pulitzer Prize finalist spot for its searingly personal exploration of the dry-sounding idea of constitutional rights. As we face the aftershocks from the US election and the continued widening of Canadian political divides, this Canadian production – which is the play’s first outside the U.S. – invites audiences to see themselves in Schreck’s questions and reflections.
Whose lives and rights does the US Constitution serve—and whose do they leave behind? And should we feel better . . . or worse, about the lives and rights protected by Canada’s Constitution?
Under the sharp, empathetic direction of Weyni Mengesha, What the Constitution Means to Me opens with a striking re-enactment of a high-school Constitutional debate contest. As a teenager, playwright Heidi Schreck had argued that the U.S. Constitution was a “crucible,” strong enough to forge unity under pressure. Her debate opponent, by contrast, saw it as a “patchwork quilt”: pieced together, but fragile under the strain of contemporary issues. Through harrowing personal stories and re-enacted debates, Schreck, who is played with bravura, empathy and arch humour by Amy Rutherford, tests the Constitution’s lofty promises against its frequent failures – some searingly intimate — revealing a document that is both powerful and profoundly flawed.
The simple set design by Kimberly Purtell speaks volumes. Depicting an American Legion Hall in a small rural town in Washington state, it situates two chairs, a wooden podium, and an American flag in front of a wall lined with rows of black-and-white photos of historically important white men. These enduring, inescapable figures of power gaze out at the stage, embodying the omnipresence of patriarchal authority shaping the lives and rights of all . . . particularly those of a common colour and gender. Purtell’s lighting design cleverly contrasts the austerity of this American Legion Hall setting with warm hues that draw focus to the heart of the play: Rutherford’s character and her deeply personal stories. Adding to the atmosphere, Richard Feren’s sound design sets the tone before the play begins: filling the theatre with American tunes that immerse the audience in the soundtrack of patriarchal nostalgia . . . and reinforce how this document, handed down across the generations, is the product of a distant time and people.
Rutherford is magnetic and unforgettable, seamlessly blending warmth and humour with heartbreak, as she navigates personal and political histories that are achingly resonant. She captivates, whether she is recounting troubling stories of how the Constitution failed women or delivering comedic asides that dissolve the room into laughter. She commands the stage, drawing viewers into Schreck’s experiences with vulnerability, warmth, intensity . . . and enough playfulness to keep stridency and anger at bay.
Beside her, an initially unrecognizable Damien Atkins shines as the American Legion member and WWII veteran who moderates her youthful debates, embodying a figure of male authority and institutional rigidity. His restrained yet potent performance anchors the play’s exploration of power dynamics – particularly in an unexpected second segment of the show, which reveals him to be an especially fitting and essential male counterpoint to Rutherford’s fervent questioner.
Schreck’s script delves into the arcana of specific constitutional amendments, such as the Ninth and the Fourteenth. And through personal stories, she shows how these amendments, while significant on paper, have repeatedly fallen short in protecting women and other vulnerable groups, leaving generations to feel unprotected, unseen and disregarded. A fascinating focus is the constitution’s focus on negative rights – which limit government power and legally protect individual freedoms – as opposed to positive rights, which would require government actions to make them real. Schreck’s writing is consistently lively and affecting, marrying laugh-out-loud humour with scorching home truths. It draws the audience into these legalities, making them feel immediate, consequential, and personal.
This relatability primes the audience to participate actively when the final section of the play – a debate — arrives. For this Canadian premiere, Schreck adapted the debate to focus on Canada’s own Charter of Rights and Freedoms, supercharging the play’s relevance. At this point, charismatic 17-year-old Gabriella King brings additional spark to this adaptation in her plucked-from-real-life role as a teen debater. She and Rutherford engage in an unscripted high- school style debate over our Charter’s value. In the process, they educate us on what the Charter does and doesn’t do, and build a delightfully respectful and playful rapport with each other — and the audience — that magnifies the play’s emotional and intellectual impact.
At this time when Canada’s provincial Premiers are falling over each other to invoke our Charter’s infamous “Notwithstanding clause”, in order to override the rights of various minoritized and othered groups of Canadians, this Canadian adaptation feels depressingly relevant. The latest on this now well-trodden path is, of course, Ontario Premier Doug Ford, who is preparing to use it to abrogate the rights of unhoused people and evict them from encampments, regardless of whether alternative accommodation exists.
By the end of What the Constitution Means to Me, we have been left with ample evidence of a sobering truth: that in both the United States and Canada, as George Orwell said, “some are more equal than others”.
This Constitution has meaning for us all – whether we like that meaning or not.
What the Constitution Means to Me runs until November 10, 2024 at Soulpepper’s Michael Young Theatre. Visit soulpepper.ca to reserve tickets.
© Arpita Ghosal, Sesaya Arts Magazine, 2024
