Neither Andrew Moodie, author of Riot, nor Lee Macdougall, who wrote High Life, had plays produced before writing these. Both men were, and are, actors who decided they wanted to write. Many people involved in the theatrical profession have this inclination. It usually begins as a whim, perhaps a reaction to the frustration of having to interpret other people’s words on the stage with very little power to alter them. Most of the time, the whim remains a whim, resulting in a small inventory of scribbled words in journals or unfinished files in computer disk drives.

Riot and High Life are exceptions to this rule. Not only did these plays emerge from the journal and disk drive to become full productions, but they also achieved a great deal of success. Both plays were extremely well received and attended when they opened in Toronto last year, unusual attention for novice playwrights. But then, these are two good plays.

Andrew Moodie’s Riot is a character-based drama set in Toronto during the tension-filled days following the not-guilty verdict in the Rodney King beating trial. Moodie introduces six African Canadians sharing a house. With diverse political beliefs, sexual orientations, and upbringings these personalities respond to each other with a high degree of dramatic tension. Because Moodie renders their arguments with fully realized characterizations, he hammers home the message that there really is no right or wrong.

As a play built on character and argument, it only loses its power when the arguments become prosaic. While the play gets its incendiary title from the Rodney King riots that took place throughout North America, much of the play revolves around life in a Toronto rooming house. Who hasn’t paid the rent? Who’s stealing food from the refrigerator? Is Monica Deol better looking than Erica Ehm? While these scenes can be very funny and lend an immediacy to the play, I found myself at some points wishing for more substance. But, true to the daily life Moodie seeks to recreate, serious issues are mixed with the mundane. Racism, Quebec’s possible separation, and homophobia are just some of the social problems Moodie turns into entertaining theatre, an accomplishment that explains Riot’s wide
appeal.

In contrast, High Life does not try to explore any politically complex issues. It is simply the story of a crime gone wrong. Four criminals, all in an opium-induced haze, plan a complicated bank heist involving instant tellers and repair men. The reader quickly gathers the job is doomed from the start, and the interest lies in seeing just how badly these guys can screw up.

Based on people Lee Macdougall lived with while doing regional theatre, the characters are archetypal drug addicts. They have no true loyalty to anything except their addiction, a collective fatal flaw creating endless farcical hilarity.
We have seen this kind of caper-gone-wrong stuff before, but Macdougall makes it fresh with lively, authentic characters, irreverent humour, and crackling dialogue. As in Riot, High Life offers very little symbolism or poetry. These are both very straightforward, realistic pieces of entertainment – actors’ plays in the sense that every character has clear motivations and great speeches.

While both plays are a little rough around the edges, and do not take as many risks as the dramatic situations offer, Moodie and Macdougall have taken the biggest risk of all. They made the scribbled writing in the journal legible and worked on those unfinished computer files until they created something good to show others. The fact that these two young writers have taken that risk so successfully will inspire writers and readers alike.