Theatre review: Poetic staging brings uplifting power to Children of God's dark stories
Blending musical theatre with traditional Indigenous forms, writer-director Corey Payette creates a depiction of residential schools that keeps growing in importance
Children of God. Photo by Emily Cooper
The Cultch presents Urban Ink’s production of Children of God at the York Theatre to March 29
CHILDREN OF GOD, a musical written and directed by Mattagami First Nation artist Corey Payette, is a haunting account of life in the Indigenous residential school system. While the show premiered in 2017, its subject matter hits harder today, in the wake of the discovery of unmarked graves at former residential schools across Canada. The importance of the story cannot be overstated, and Payette has channelled it through a remarkably poetic theatrical work—a stunning artistic accomplishment.
Children of God’s narrative shifts between the 1970s, when Tom (Sheldon Elter), an Oji-Cree man, continues to deal with the trauma he endured in his time in a residential school, and 20 years earlier, when young Tom and his sister Julia (Cheyenne Scott) were at the school. One thing we know for certain is that Julia is no longer in Tom’s life in the 1970s. So what happened to her? That question is the show’s driving force, and Payette masterfully guides us through the journey.
Not only has Payette written the two plots to run in parallel, but his inventive staging often lets us see the storylines side by side, resulting in incredibly compelling finishes to the two acts. Act 1 ends with high drama and suspense, and Act 2 concludes in a powerfully uplifting and emotional way.
When you enter the theatre, production designer Marshall McMahen’s sombre set of grey, cloudy skies, with bright flowers scattered along the stage, commands your attention and curiosity about the story that lies here. Lighting designer Jeff Harrison’s projections effectively transport you to various locations or reveal essential story elements. Payette’s score—a blend of contemporary musical theatre and traditional Indigenous-inspired songs—not only moves the story forward with songs such as Tom and Julia’s reflective “The Closest Thing to Home” and Sister Bernadette’s revelatory “Their Spirits Are Broken”, but also serves as powerful underscoring to heighten the drama throughout.
Payette’s staging and the choreographic touches—such as having the performers run during scene changes or timeline transitions with their arms held in a version of ballet third position—poetically draw us into Children of God’s world. And while the show addresses some of the abusive realities of residential school life, the staging softens these moments to make them bearable for audiences.
The children are played by adults—a wise choice, given how difficult it would be to watch this piece performed by actual children, not to mention how harrowing it would be for the child actors. As both child and adult Tom, Elter captures what’s still left of “Tommy’s” youthful innocence at the start and the inevitable grief and trauma suffered later, as demonstrated in his emotional solo “Wonderland”.
As Julia, Scott exudes an innocence that brings strong believability and vulnerability to her character, making her journey all the more poignant. David Keeley’s cruel and authoritarian Father Christopher brings the weight that is, unfortunately, necessary to this story. Meanwhile, Lauren Bowler’s Sister Bernadette adds dimension, offering the multi-faceted perspective of one of the school’s nuns. The heaviness in Bowler’s voice as she performs her songs tells us much more than the lyrics she sings.
A conversation with the cast members follows each performance, and on opening night one of the them suggested that the story in Children of God is likely a best-case scenario—a chilling thought that makes it even more important.
Despite the darkness of the subject matter, Children of God chooses to focus on the light ahead. Led by Andrea Menard’s stunning vocal performance of “Baamaapii Ka Wab Migo (Until We See You Again)”, the show’s final moments are tremendously uplifting, encouraging audiences to follow the hope that comes from honouring the lives of those who have been wronged, and moving onward to a better future. If there ever was a time for this type of call to action, now would be it.