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Review of "Mangiacake" - Toronto Star
(NOTE: For the "uninitiated", A Mangiacake eats fluffy cake-like bread instead of the sturdy Calabrese variety. In other words, a non-Italian.)
THIS MANGIACAKE ! FINALLY WINS YOU OVER
Toronto Star, Richard Ouzounian, Theatre Critic, Apr. 10, 2001
Mangiacake! 416-408-2783
Written and performed by Charly Chiarelli. Directed by Ronald Weihs. Until Apr. 29 at the Artword Theatre, 75 Portland St. Toronto, Canada
We're getting used to each other.
Charly Chiarelli and I may never wind up being the best of friends, but his current chunk of Sicilian-Canadian autobiography is much more engaging than Cu'Fu, his previous entry in this field. A lot of things have stayed the same, but enough are different in a decidedly positive way.
This show is still a series of Chiarelli's stories on what it's like to be born in Sicily, move to Canada, and then try to rediscover your roots when it may be too late.
Some of the material is laugh-out-loud funny, some of it just deserves a smile, and some of it is quite touching. There are also a few attempts at high drama, and they cause problems.
Twice in the show, with lights dim and quivering voice, Charly tells us about how Canadian-Italian friends and relatives of his were beaten up by bigots. No one would deny this is a terrible thing. The problem comes when we're supposed to roar with laughter and feel good about the Canadian-Italians beating up the bigots for revenge.
Isn't that just a bit too Old Testament for words?
Mercifully, Chiarelli doesn't spend too much time in that vein, and he saves most of his energy for stories about his wife, his children and his Sicilian relatives. He loves them all, and the genuine warmth you can see he feels comes right across into the audience.
There's also a wit less dependent on the mugging ethnic humour that made Cu'Fu so tiresome after a while.
When a friend says, "You know how I'm gonna avoid being a high school dropout? I'm gonna quit in Grade 8," you have to smile. And his description of how to avoid marital hassles (``We eloped. No presents, no bloodshed'') is as wise as it is brief.
Director Ronald Weihs has staged the whole thing simply against a glowing background that can magically dissolve into Sicily. There are no props or scenery, just four suitcases, which is all that's needed.
There are some remaining problems. Chiarelli keeps using the device of speaking a line in Sicilian and then translating it into English. Not only does it stretch the time out, but you start to resent the fact that the Italians always get the joke before us Mangiacakes. (A Mangiacake eats fluffy cake-like bread instead of the sturdy Calabrese variety. In other words, a non-Italian.) But I don't think you'd have to be a Mangiacake to think this show would be even better if it were about 20 minutes shorter.
There's also less of Chiarelli's admittedly talented harmonica playing, and it seems to have found the proper balance. Yes, there are still some problems, but in the end, it has heart, humour and a generosity of spirit that finally wins you over.
Ciao, Charly. See you next time.
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