REVIEW: The Waves

Their tale is interrupted by a masked deity-type being, ripe with conservatism.

By Jean-Paul Fournier

An adult and teenager find themselves stranded in the middle of the ocean in a boat, with little means of survival. Their tale is interrupted by a masked deity-type being, ripe with conservatism, identifying itself as Ronald Reagan, followed by a visit from a sock puppet god, that appears to be a serpent primarily made of googly eyes. And then it gets weird.

The Waves is a tiny yet ambitious piece of artistic theatre that makes gambling on new works at the Fringe so much fun. With rudimentary props, various visual effects, meta humour, and a range of bizarre gimmicks, the play can be described simply as unpredictable. While much of the show is undeniably experimental, it still has a throughline stringing it all together. From the opening disclaimer, cautioning the presence of sensitive topics such as suicide, depression, politics, and other triggering subjects, the team also demonstrates a clever sense of humour, reassuring the audience that this is meant to be fun … but it’s still going to get very strange.

Tickets

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