Daniel MacIvor latest play disappoints on many levels. Not so much a play but a series of stand-up monologues held together by a threadbare fictionalized autobiographical narrative, nothing really happens next.
MacIvor turns on the self-referential spotlight and indulges in his maniacal delivery of border-line clichéd characters: the gay guy, the bitchy cougar, the annoying kid, the alcoholic dad. He throws in as many random references as he can (Schopenhauer, The Little Mermaid, John Denver) but the whole thing never takes off, what with all its stops and starts and despite MacIvor’s determination to shoehorn a happy ending and misdirect the audience with a little bit of fake snow. Overall, it failed to deliver emotional depth and more than a few self-deprecating guffaws.
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