In his latest play, Cul-de-sac, playwright and performer Daniel MacIvor hits the ground running in the shape of a character named Leonard. Leonard lives in one of the six houses neatly tucked away in a suburban cul-de-sac, a sophisticated variation on the blunt “dead end” that heralds streets leading nowhere.

Always a sucker for an interesting story, Leonard is finally given the opportunity to tell his own, but in doing so discovers it’s impossible to separate it from the lives that surround him. Leonard distills his story down to one crucial night when his life reaches its climax and unfortunate end. MacIvor lets us hang out briefly with Leonard before he rips into the other characters, who cover a broad spectrum, from a crusty, sentimental, retired widower to an angry 13-year-old girl, with a couple of clichéd couples thrown between them.

A wizard at succinctly describing common feelings and situations, MacIvor somehow manages to imbue them with new meaning. Employing an engaging, meandering directness, he uses language that contains both intellectual and oral punch that’s equally effective on the page and stage. Onstage, MacIvor performs all characters, investing each with strategic gestures, mannerisms, and vocal intonations. All the text can offer are the lines with the character’s name attached to them. Luckily, the words are solid performers on their own.

Leonard cleverly sets up his story, throwing bones of revelation to his listeners, whoever they may be. In the end, Leonard finds himself in a difficult situation where no progress can be made – a deadlock, an impasse, a cul-de-sac. But in telling his story, MacIvor presents – with help from dramaturge Daniel Brooks – many moving insights and beautiful snapshots for us to look at and reflect upon.