Theatre review: Hurricane Mona takes an absurdly hilarious look at our pending climate disaster
Strong cast, vivid staging, and an imaginary frog bring story of a family’s clashing enviro beliefs to humorous life
Alex Gullason and Sherine Menes in Hurricane Mona. Photo by Pedro Augusto Meza
Alex Gullason, Diane Brown, Craig Erickson, Sherine Menes, and Raugi Yu in Hurricane Mona. Photo by Pedro Augusto Meza
Touchstone Theatre and Ruby Slippers Theatre present Hurricane Mona at the Cultch’s Historic Theatre to December 3
IN THIS CLIMATE EMERGENCY, sometimes the situation seems like a bad dream, too absurd to be real. Writer Pippa Mackie and director Roy Surette lean into the surreal in the strangely funny Hurricane Mona, a dark comedy about the environmental crisis, exploring a family’s clashing beliefs in the midst of a coming storm.
Mona (Alex Gullason), an aging Millennial who doesn’t see a future past 2035, is forced home after stripping and dousing herself with oil during a peaceful protest and vandalizing a police car. Her house arrest, however, isn’t well-received by her Boomer parents. Mona’s mother, Susan’s (Diane Brown) anxious energy is in tune with her father, Rick’s (Craig Erickson) happy bravado as they both exclaim: “Six months?!”
Mona’s sibling, Gen Z Jay (Sherine Menes), also isn’t too impressed with Mona’s return and remains no-nonsense with Mona’s no-coffee-pod (among other endless) demands, reminding her that her behavior at the protest was what got her cancelled. Their fraught family relationship is further challenged by Susan’s drinking problem and Rick’s money complex, which later devolves into a family brawl. Frog (Raugi Yu), invisible to all but Jay, is a warty, walking portent of doom who follows the characters along like the endless (and hilarious) drone of the CBC radio.
For all the serious content related to the climate emergency and Jay’s depression, the dialogue is full of light-hearted wit, call-backs, and word-play, where standup comedy moments with Frog are deadpan and refreshing. In one segment, he reveals: “It’s not easy being Green.”
The play isn’t afraid to explore how each character feels their response to the climate emergency is justified, and it’s fascinating to see how Susan’s slow acceptance of her daughter’s views clashes with Rick’s beliefs on how life has necessary evils, like natural gas and deodorant.
The audience during opening night was full of laughter, though the play’s volume and intensity begins moderately-high and builds throughout the play, with only brief scenes of respite. The moments where Jay reveals struggles with depression, handled with nuanced pain by Menes, are evocative; however, more time could have provided further insights beyond how Mona or Susan approach Jay’s mental health.
The actors capture the complex family dynamics throughout the play, including Gullason’s vivacious and bold performance as Mona. A highlight is Yu’s dry humour and engagement with the audience as Frog.
John Webber’s set design expertly re-creates the upper-middle class family living room, dining area, and kitchen, while Hina Nishioka’s lighting and Mary Jane Coomber’s sound design echo the mood of the sibling mushroom trip with Frog, plus other funny scenes. Sheila White’s costumes follow the development of the characters as they decline into absurdity and chaos, especially Susan as she slips from sleek night robe to a pink tracksuit and hairband.
The shenanigans of Mona and her family and their interactions with Frog will strike a chord with viewers eager to explore what catharsis is available when faced with the turbulent reality of the climate crisis. Despite the devastation of familial bonds and climate change, the best approach may be to deal with reality one bad dream at a time–to cry, to scream, to laugh, and finally, to adapt.
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