In the midst of a real estate crisis, Radiant Vermin seems to be on point. His metaphor, aimed at this property market that has become inaccessible, is as big as a house, but exhilaratingly ferocious. With very black humor and a form of magical realism, Philip Ridley’s play satirizes the price escalation, but above all the gentrification of neighborhoods and its effects on the less well-off population, where the acquisition made by some leads to the disappearance (literally here…) of others.
In this text created in 2015, a young couple desperate to be able to afford a home are offered, by an enigmatic lady in charge of an equally mysterious program, a house “with a lot of potential” in a run-down neighborhood. Free of charge, but to restore it. A dream that will turn into a nightmare, the renovation method being as bloody as it is strange. A human cost that the couple justifies by the well-being of their child. Seeing them accept such a radical process, then taking the initiative themselves, with growing greed, in order to constantly improve their nest, says a lot about the spiral of overconsumption in which we are somewhat all caught. An escalation that further encourages the arrival of neighbors. Hence the name of the shopping center that is being erected in this rapidly expanding district: Encore et encore…
From London to Montreal, this criticism could point to the situation of several large cities. One recognizes rare local references in Marie-Claude Verdier’s effective translation. But the story is above all devoid of landmarks, which gives it a bit of the form of a tale. Especially since the scene is so bare: it is in our imagination that this fantastical house is born. The show, directed by David Strasbourg, relies on a strong formal framework, relying on the soundtrack by Cédric Flagothier and a lot on the lighting with which Cédric Delorme-Bouchard dresses the space he has designed, in particular to evoke the magic renovations.
The production also relies heavily on acting. Sylvie Moreau proves to be perfect in her role, halfway between real estate agent and fairytale genius. In an often narrative mode, Michel-Maxime Legault and the very expressive Anne-Marie Binette tell this story by adopting the exaggerated enthusiasm of salespeople. The party scene, with its parade of neighbors, gives rise to a breathless number, where they multiply compositions sketched precisely by voice, posture, movements.
Both performers sometimes address the audience directly. Through this sympathetic couple, characters who describe themselves as “good people” but are ready to go to great lengths to ensure their comfort, Radiant Vermin engages viewers in its critique of a system. The epilogue is particularly effective.