St. John’s Short Play Festival 2025

September 2nd-14th. LSPU Hall.

reviewed by John Avalon.

September 2nd:

For the opening, tone-setting show of the 10th annual St. John’s Shorts festival, The Crash is an unexpected choice, weakened by further confusing choices. This performance is constructed around opportunities for dance and slapstick comedy, which are executed successfully. These scenes are loosely strung together with a plot that is uncomplicated, yet somewhat difficult to pin down, perhaps because the method of line delivery stands in the way of the audience’s comprehension.

Disassembly Required nails the design and direction of a succinct, absurdist comedy. I was let down by the choice to not have our toybox cast sing live, or better calibrate the audio to allow for the witty lyrics to shine. The jokes are well written, well-performed, and the puppets are perfectly simple; impressive commitment on all fronts. If I could give out my award for best actor of the evening, it would go to that horny slinky.

With a promising concept and a few truly glorious moments of hilarity, Bees on a Plane has potential as a solid comedy sketch. The straightforward, delightfully perplexing premise is somewhat overwrought with excess set dressing that detracts from the central insanity. With slight improvements to blocking considering vantage points and exaggeration of space (or lack thereof), the metaphorical plane could be landed.

I Don’t Blame You overcompensates in some areas and underdelivers in others. Many of the technical aids are unnecessary for setting the scene or conveying important information, and many characters’ functions in the story are repetitive or inconsequential. With no truths withheld or thoughts unsaid, there is a lack of tension throughout, and the narrative climax is left unresolved. A laudable attempt at conveying a meaningful message with heart and enthusiasm, but much to be perfected.

September 3rd:

As a place for artists to showcase and experiment with new work, things alive exemplifies the purpose of the St. John’s Shorts. This series of circling and rambling conversations, asides, and confrontations between mother and monster is bursting with memorable lines, evocative imagery, and scintillating performances. Ideally, a staged version of the full work would feature more structure and grounding in order to properly showcase the work of this extremely versatile writer. Lingering on labels, legacy, and living, this excerpt is a great portent of things to come – and things past.

With a sharper ending and sense of punchline, the script for Dis’is’it could function as a perfectly serviceable comedic skit. As it stands, the unenergetic performance suffers from a lack of commitment to a script that demands to be over-the-top. This piece requires a better sense of direction and bigger choices (or perhaps a larger accordion) to rekindle the spark.

Featuring: Jazzberry Jam is short, sweet, and funny; a thoroughly enjoyable piece reminiscent of nostalgic pre-show animation shorts. With magnetic and delightfully watchable performances from the lead(s), this piece elicits strong reactions with very minimalist choices. Effective and endearing theatre at its purest.

With unblinking, unabashed confidence, Gladys the Singing Ghost captures the audience – and holds them hostage – with a fine-tuned grip. Witty, campy, and a little risqué, you’re in good hands with this seasoned entertainer. Gladys’s final fate may be a little confusing and undefined, especially when compared to the rest of the piece. And despite it being quite a rude question, I simply must know the method of her demise. This is one show I would gladly see again and again – perhaps annually, on the anniversary of an untimely death!

September 9th: 

Retro-futuristic dystopia on acid, love songs for when the bomb drops is a mixture of wall-to-wall insanity and pulsating dread. With such a strongly unbelievable and yet totally compelling premise, I wish all the scenes explored their conceits while fitting more clearly into the over-arching narrative, dialing up the absurdity and suspense even further. The narrator’s presence is a perfect anchor for the story in both aesthetics and function, embodying the humour, pessimism, and scrappiness of this burgeoning concept.

As short plays go, Principal’s Office puts forth a confident, polished offering. Clear vision, strong acting, and effective direction – as well as a solid final note – carry this production off smoothly. For a two-hander character study, I had hoped the characters at hand would have something more unexpected or surprising to show for all their effort. A completely enjoyable and well-plotted performance.

While Harold Thenderbee’s previous works may have been called ‘mundane’, the talkback sessions for his latest play, The Debut, are anything but. A departure from his laid-back meanders into apathy, Thenderbee’s magnum opus is open to critique and experimentation yielding great hilarity – and a few challenging themes. The actors proved their commitment to their craft under Harold’s unbelievably unwavering direction, bringing together a performance that really does demand to be seen again and again. A moving production that has audiences wondering: aren’t they going to use any of those set pieces?

Real Clown has a sweet message to convey and with some tighter editing it could serve as a simple clownish parable. This message is hammered home perhaps a few times too many, and the ending could be much more succinct. The jokes are witty and well-timed, but could be amplified by a stronger, more intentional sense of pacing in the piece overall. With even slightly deeper characterization and more consideration for flow and brevity, we could have a lighthearted, red-nosed morality play on our hands.

September 10th:

As a tableau of testimonies to queer joy, Pieces of Resistance lays out plainly all it has to say. As a musical, it could benefit from the addition of movement and choreography in order to compliment the animated songs and lyrics. There is a straight-forward, informative tone that gives the impression of sitting through Gay 101 with a musical theatre framework: campy, silly, and incredibly earnest.

Caregiver contains promising elements of an interesting study in labour, family, and responsibility, but requires further pushing in all directions to achieve its potential. In a play where the awkward, heavy silences could carry so much weight, their potency is diluted by a pervasive hesitancy. The most intriguing threads are unfortunately not always revisited; more repetition or adherence to a framework could heighten the proposed themes. Setting aside the need for louder projection and a more cleanly staged ending, this script would be better served by making full use of the opportunities for tension and connection.

Substitutes in Hiding sets up a deceptively simple concept, but in practice requires strong leads that can both exude charisma and chemistry in droves. Without this fast-paced, clever, self-aware banter from both sides, the result is a somewhat stagnant energy in what should be an evenly matched tete-a-tete. Though the cartoonish direction suits the subject matter well, some of the design choices, namely the lighting, could either be subtler or simply inferred by the acting. This repartee is cute on paper, but sadly might have to complete extra credit to receive a passing grade in performance.

When it comes to taking full advantage of the resources at hand, Thoughts of Sex and Sadness ticks all the boxes by elevating a densely packed script with thoughtful and exciting production elements. Melding fact, fiction, and fantasy in a dizzying array of realism and abstraction, every inch of this show is used to the fullest effect. These actors must be commended for their captivating, kinetic performances, aligning their intensity to compliment and contrast one another. Keenly aware of sound, space, and sense, this production fits an extremely fruitful set-up, break-down, and unravelling into as little time as needed.

Final thoughts: 

I see the purpose of the St. John’s Shorts as a showcase of everything the local theatre scene has to offer. The variety in the shows – from simple morality plays to absurd comedy to experimental theatre – is a huge part of the draw for audiences and presenters. On each night, the bill was a good mix of rougher work with more polished performances. For both nightly lineups and the festival at large, there was room for improvement in the ordering of the shows; though I recognize these decisions are often constrained by technical limitations. In this regard, the mix of programming can be commended; it seems the meld of a lottery system and chosen selections have made for a well-balanced festival season. 

While the Shorts is not a Fringe Festival, it arguably fills that niche in our arts ecosystem, and in that respect there are some gaps to be filled. I wonder if groups in the beginning stages of creation see the Shorts as a jumping off point leading to further work and effort, or if being produced on the mainstage of the LSPU is an understandably satisfying end-goal in itself. For those who are looking for real feedback and reactions, I question whether the infrastructure of the Shorts encourages this kind of dialogue. Perhaps initiatives such as artist passes allowing those working on the Shorts to see other shows for free, or audience awards giving credit to favourite performances, would foster a culture of excitement and discussion. 

Seeing every show on the mainstage of the St. John’s Shorts for its tenth anniversary gave me a wider and deeper appreciation than I already had for the talents at work in our local theatre community. I thoroughly enjoyed the breadth of ideas explored, the innovative uses of the space, and the creativity bred by limitation. Next year, I would highly encourage everyone to take in as much of the festival as they can.

John Avalon is an opinionated theatregoer in St. John’s.