Q&A: THE LONELY DINER, with director Kelli Fox

This month on VERTIGO VOICES, we talk with THE LONELY DINER director Kelli Fox about working on this show and its unique time period, as well as the challenges and opportunities of being a women in a male-dominated profession.

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Q: When you were offered the chance to direct THE LONELY DINER, what in particular did you find exciting about the script?

I've been a fan of Beverley Cooper's work for a while, so I was just excited for the chance to work on her play. This one in particular appeals because it centres around a middle aged woman. We gals tend to be "disappeared" from our stages and screens after 35 or so, and it's heartbreaking to me that, while our men friends are moving, as they should, into roles that challenge the skill set they've built over the first 20 years of work, so many of my peers, some talented women who should be having the same opportunity, are languishing on the sidelines, or choosing to move on to a different career, because the roles aren't there for them. This is slowly changing, and writers like Beverley Cooper are helping that change. Also, it's got gangsters and it's a bit sexy. That part's fun!

Q: How do you find your own modern sensibilities working on a show set in a time period of almost a hundred years ago? What seems familiar, or alien?

Well, I'm old enough that most of what we see in this setting isn't entirely unfamiliar to me. My childhood home didn't have that kind of phone, or those types of appliances in the kitchen, but my mother's did. I imagine young people today look at a rotary phone, like the one I grew up with, the same way I look at the phone in the Milton's home. It's familiar, I know what it is, but it's a bit strange too. I have couple of questions about exactly how it works.  I spent a lot of years at the Shaw Festival where the tag line on the brochures was "Plays about the beginning of the modern world." Those years around the turn of the last century are fascinating to me because of that very thing. I recognize that world, and I certainly recognize those people, but the distance allows me some perspective that makes it fresh. Sometimes I long for the days when, if the phone rang when I wasn't home, I just didn't get that call. It's hard to remember that that didn't used to seem like a tragedy. It's interesting to imagine what people 50 years from now will make of the standard mystery trope of "cutting the phone line." Will it have meaning? Will people understand the implication immediately and gasp, like the woman I heard in our preview audience the other night?

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Q: There's a lot of shifting dynamics and hidden agendas in this show. Is there any particular character you empathize with more than the others?

I usually find, through the course of rehearsal, I begin to fall a little in love with each of the characters in a story. Directing means stretching your imagination to encompass all the points of view. That said, Lucy breaks my heart. One of the big differences between then and now, is that we really do have choices and agency as women that Lucy just doesn't have. It's easy to judge her selfishness, and her inability to find grace and happiness in what she has, but not all women are cut out for marriage and children. Now we can simply choose a different life, but then? This was pretty much the destiny of all women, and to not achieve it meant something far worse for all but the bravest and most adventurous of women. I empathize with her restlessness. 

Q: Working in the theatre as a woman, what challenges have you encountered? What opportunities?

I guess I covered the challenges a little in your first question. The great thing is that things really are beginning to shift. We are all beginning to open our eyes, look around, and realize that we've allowed one group of people to run the show and reap all the rewards for a very long time. Now when we begin a project we ask, how can I be more inclusive? How can I open up to women, to people of colour, of varying abilities? That's going to make it a very different world for all of us, really soon. I've definitely benefitted in recent years from a conscious push to get more women in the director's chair. 

Time is money, they say. I actually believe time is far more valuable than money to the making of good theatre.

Q: What change, if any, would you like to see occur in our performing arts scene? 

Oh boy. Soapbox time. I've been going on about this for weeks now. Four weeks to be precise. That's how long we've had to work on this play, and it's been positively luxurious. And it's rare these days. Increasingly, theatres are being asked to do more, with less. Audiences want to see lush design, and technological wizardry on stage. They are flocking to big musicals, with large casts and fancy costumes. But all of that costs money. And if the money is spent there, it can't be spent elsewhere, like salaries to keep a production team at work for the time it takes to really polish a piece of work. For years artists responded to the need to economize by making it work any way they could. We all subsidize the work with hours, days, weeks of unpaid labour in preparation so that we can get a show up and in front of a paying audience as quickly as possible. We've all experienced the 20 day (or less!) rehearsal period from first day to opening night. And the problem we've given ourselves is that, because we take pride in our work, we keep compensating and finding a way to make it happen. Nobody wants to look underprepared when the public comes into the building. Which only makes some producers, and people who don't really understand what it take to achieve a fully professional piece of theatre, think that it's not only possible, but reasonable, to expect a high quality production of Twelfth Night, or Drowsy Chaperone in two weeks. The burn out rate is unsurprising to those of us on the front lines. I know Craig Hall has worked hard to ensure a four week rehearsal period at this theatre, and I have been singing his praises for it out loud every day. It's meant all the difference to what we have been able to accomplish with this play. Time is money, they say. I actually believe time is far more valuable than money to the making of good theatre. I wish we, as artists, would push back a little harder on that front. I think four weeks should be the minimum standard. 

Q: What advice would you give to any women who are hoping to enter the performing arts?

Do it! Jump on in and help us change the landscape. There's never been a better time for us, and it's only going to keep getting better as long as we show up and speak up and make art. If you really want to make theatre, find a good school. This work is not as easy as some people manage to make it look, and good training is important. Really good training institutions usually have some connection to the professional world, so while you learn your craft you will get to spend time with people who are practicing, and you'll probably find that those people will be among your first professional workmates.

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Header photo: Kelli Fox headshot. Body photos: Citrus Photography, featuring Lara Schmitz and Shawna Burnett, set design by Scott Reid, costume design by Hanne Loosen