This thoughtful new play at Crow’s Theatre humanizes the migrant workers Canada forgets

But they’re also some of the most marginalized and exploited people in our society. And if they’re not entirely forgotten, then they’re viewed as merely numbers, in terms of population statistics and economic output. 

Kanika Ambrose, however, has humanized these workers and their stories in “The Christmas Market,” her new drama, which opened Wednesday at Crow’s Theatre. As directed by Philip Akin, it’s a startling, probing and deftly acted world premiere. 

Ambrose, one of the hardest working playwrights in Toronto theatre this season, with another new work (“Moonlight Schooner”) debuting later this month at Canadian Stage, is more familiar than most with the plight of these migrants.

As Ambrose writes in her program note, she knows family members who’ve worked on farms through Canada’s temporary foreign worker program. “There is an imprint in one of my earliest memories of going, with my parents, to visit my uncle, who was working on a farm in Sparta,” she explains in the note. “I was shocked by the deplorable living condition but, not having the words to express my questions at the time, I lived with that unsettled feeling for years.” 

That Ambrose approaches her story not just from a place of care, but also from a place of love, is immediately evident. Her characters are written with depth and complexity, while her dialogue lingers in the mind long after the final curtain. 

But “The Christmas Market” is witty, too, which may be surprising given the serious subject matter. This humour is mostly derived from irony, and Ambrose employs it as a means to connect her audience with her characters. There’s funny irony, for instance, in how Lionel (Danté Prince) works at a Christmas market selling snow globes and winter-themed ornaments, yet has never experienced winter for himself firsthand. 

There are, however, also other forms of irony embedded in Ambrose’s play. Perhaps none greater than the tragic irony that Lionel’s place of work offers much joy to its visitors, but is, for him, a source of deep unhappiness. 

Lionel is the beating heart of “The Christmas Market,” and Prince portrays him with gravitas. He’s restless and hungry for something greater, ambition written across his face.

But Lionel, who holds a degree in IT, is infantilized and dehumanized in his current role. He’s made to shovel snow in the market’s parking lot each morning. His boss won’t even provide him with proper gloves to keep his hands warm. 

Lionel’s frustration is amplified by the fact that his fellow workers don’t share his outlook. Joe (Matthew G. Brown), a fellow migrant who’s worked at the market on and off for eight years, is Lionel’s polar opposite — a fastidious employee and eternal optimist. Roy (Savion Roach) is too concerned with his custody rights over his newborn daughter. 

Ambrose excels at painting a portrait not only of these three individuals, but also of the broader system in which they work. Their well-intentioned, if out-of-touch supervisor Ryan, (Brenda Robins) is depicted here not as a villain, but as an unwitting cog in a machine that’s quietly exploiting migrants like Lionel, Joe and Roy.  

Akin’s production effectively stages the play on Ken Mackenzie’s elongated set, representing the small trailer in which the trio of workers live, eat and sleep (in cramped bunks). 

But “The Christmas Market” can be developed even further, and expanded from one act into two. While the back end of the play is compelling, concluding on a quiet though purposefully ambiguous note, its first half rushes too quickly through some important exposition. Ambrose could spend more time building the world of her play and establishing the stakes for each of her characters. 

Still, this new work remains an important addition to Ambrose’s ever-growing oeuvre. As with her Dora-winning play “our place” in 2022 and “Truth” in 2024, she continues to give voice to those so often forgotten by society. With further work, “The Christmas Market” could become a modern Canadian classic.