There’s so much to like in Travis Abels’s solo show, Candy. But the centre doesn’t hold.
Abels sets up the narrative frame: he’s going on a journey to the Cliffs of Moher in Ireland, where, legend has it, if you stand on the edge at sunset, you can see your future.
Then he fills in the backstory. Raised in a Doomsday cult — it’s true — he was taught that Satan lurks in excessive pleasure. So no Halloween candy for him. But, as Abels started to break his religious restrictions, he became dependent on hits of sweetness: sugar, vapes, romance, audience approval — forms of distraction, habit, and maybe addiction.
Flying around the stage with a remarkably free physicality, Abels is an appealing performer. Fluent in the sensual languages of theatre, he creates lighting effects with just a couple of coloured flashlights, and his soundscape is so thorough it’s almost like a character.
But the journey to the Cliffs didn’t work for me because I wasn’t clear on its terms. At first, I thought the storytelling was naturalistic, but then the obstacles Abels encountered felt manufactured, which made me doubt the literalness — and reliability — of other narrative elements, including a romance with a singer named Paisley. And what I perceived as the artifice of this journey was never fully contained within, say, a satisfying fairytale structure.
Frustrated, I bailed from my investment in Candy’s story. But Abels’s inventiveness continued to please in flashes, including in a charmingly self-deprecating ending that I’ll leave you to discover for yourself.
Remaining performances: September 15 (5:00 p.m.), 17 (10:10 p.m.), 18 (6:45 p.m.), and 19 (3:15 p.m.) Tickets and information.
For weekly updates on my theatre reviews, plus local, national, and international art news, sign up for my newsletter! It’s free and you can unsubscribe anytime.
0 Comments