Tarragon Theatre's ‘Cicadas’ is a grand theatrical experiment that doesn't entirely pay off

The pair’s latest creation blends live orchestral music (performed by a quartet of instrumentalists) with a stage drama that hopscotches across time and space, straddling genres ranging from sci-fi and mystery to the supernatural and kitchen-sink drama.

But as ambitious as “Cicadas” may be, it’s a messy theatrical experiment that doesn’t entirely pay off. And much like its namesake insects, which spend the majority of their lives buried deep underground, emerging briefly with a chorus of cries that fill the spring air, this new play feels just as elusive and impenetrable, with some compelling ideas concealed beneath a web of nebulous threads.

The strongest aspect of this work is Thornborrow’s compositions, scored for a chamber ensemble. He conjures a shimmering, surrealist world that swells and compresses, constantly changing form. At times, this instrumental accompaniment evokes the sound of water in a fast-flowing stream, caressing rocks in a riverbed. Then, it morphs into a cacophony of noise reminiscent of a flock of birds soaring overhead, before transforming yet again into the sound of wild animals on a hunt, nipping at the tails of their prey.

Overlaid above this soundscape is a two-act story, set in the near future, that follows the married couple of Janie and Trim Vonnegut (played by the real-life couple of Monica Dottor and Ryan Hollyman), who’ve just bought a home in Toronto’s Trinity-Bellwoods neighbourhood as they prepare to welcome their first child. 

This purchase, however, comes in spite of repeated warnings from their realtor (played by Ellora Patnaik), who tells the couple that the property’s previous owners mysteriously disappeared after stepping into the basement. So under no circumstances, she advises them, should they ever venture past the locked door leading underground. 

Sure enough, a series of supernatural events occurs shortly after the Vonneguts move in: a flood appears unexpectedly and then vanishes without a trace; a brood of cicadas envelops the exterior of the Vonneguts’ home; a painting by Janie’s mother inexplicably changes form. 

There are plot holes aplenty in Thornborrow and Yee’s play — like those made by cicada nymphs as they tunnel their way up and out of the ground. It’s never clear, for instance, why the Vonneguts insist on moving into this home despite its troubled history or why they choose to stay, even after witnessing multiple strange occurrences.

I found there was enough forward momentum in the play’s first act to excuse some of these narrative gaps. But after intermission, that momentum flags and those small cavities in the ground coalesce into a giant sinkhole. 

“Cicadas” sputters as it tries to dig itself out of this rut, introducing further threads that only complicate the proceedings. After the mysterious disappearances of several characters, the play briefly dips into horror. A few flashback sequences explore the relationship between Janie and her late mother, Adeline (also played by Patnaik), a mathematician. There’s also a compelling but underdeveloped plot point exploring the tension between math and faith. 

What’s most surprising, however, is that for a show billed as a “modern eco-thriller,” “Cicadas” focuses little on the environment or ecological destruction. If anything, those ideas are merely tertiary points rather than the driving force behind the play.

Director Nina Lee Aquino’s somewhat befuddling production complicates things even further. Despite the beguiling lighting designs by Michelle Ramsay, who can open up new worlds with a flick of a switch and a change of colour, Jawon Kang’s boxy set, filled with nondescript furniture, makes it difficult to distinguish where we are. That’s especially a problem for a play with the sensibilities of a mercurial shape-shifter.

Dottor and Hollyman are equally strong as the central couple, whose put-together front soon gives way to an unstable neurosis as their world — quite literally — crumbles around them. But Patnaik, with an ice-cold, deadpan demeanour that sent a shiver down my spine, is the standout as various characters whose presence destabilizes the Vonneguts’ lives. 

It’s too bad this trio can’t work with stronger material because while there certainly are some fascinating ideas and themes in this world premiere production, much like cicadas themselves, they’re buried deep beneath the surface. Maybe with some time — and further development — they can finally emerge to the fore.