The Daily Miracle is the second play from former Montreal Gazette copy editor David Sherman. Sherman began writing in 2004, when he was a playwright-in-residence at the Centaur Theatre by day and a copy editor by night. The play departs from the traditional fictional focus on investigative reporters to take a look at life behind the editing desk.

“[Copy editors] do a very difficult job … and I don’t think enough is really said about what they bring to the task,” says Sherman.

The Daily Miracle takes place in real-time, after the early edition of the paper has been sent to the presses, but before the final copy has been drafted. The audience sits overlooking the stage, which is set up as a slightly disheveled newsroom from which coffee has been recently outlawed. It’s the night of a winter storm, and tensions are already high between the night editor, the marginally alcoholic and certainly cynical Benjamin (played by Howard Rosenstein), the three copy editors, and a meandering janitor.

Roland (Jean-Guy Bouchard) is a philosophizing former typographer-turned-janitor, who succeeds in annoying the audience almost as much as he annoys the denizens of the newsroom. It’s difficult to say whether his rambling tirades are the result of the writing, the acting, or both. Either way, the result is an excessive, wince-inducing performance.

However, strong preformances from Ellen David (from CBC’s 18 to Life) as Elizabeth, who is balancing a breaking story with a child who has swine flu, fedora-wearing Arthur Holden as Marty, a recently returned editor, and Sheena Gazé-Deslandes, as copy editor and would-be television anchor Carrie, are more than redeeming.

Although the script is charming and witty with timely references – in one case, to the iPad, which was released the day before – the production would have benefited from a few more days of practice.

Non-newspaper people might also find much of the play incomprehensibe, as it’s laden with industry jargon and references which might not make sense to the casual viewer. As a result, the play lacks the wide-range appeal to attract a more general audience. But for those with a stake in the industry, the play is a chilling picture of things to come.

The Daily Miracle is billed as a long-song for the newspaper industry, but it could just as well be an obituary. From the messy desks to the foreboding scent of wasabi wafting out of the executive boardroom, the unanticipated and frankly ominous conclusion is more than disheartening. But despite this, Sherman maintains that there is a future for the newspaper industry.

The Daily Miracle is playing at the Bain St. Michel, 5300 St. Dominique, until February 14. For more information, visit www.infinitheatre.com or call (514) 987-1774.

Seeing The Vagina Monologues can be a bit intimidating – but it’s precisely that hesitation that the show is trying to counteract. The Monologues was created as an attempt to reclaim female sexuality by making “vagina” – both the word and the body part – less taboo. Writer Eve Ensler wanted people to see Monologues and say to themselves, “I didn’t know we could talk about this. I guess we can.”

This year, director Jessica Kostuck selected eight actresses from the 75 girls who auditioned to perform the monologues. With each new monologue, we witness the actresses transition into different roles. Each story sounds genuine, as if the actresses had experienced them personally, and each brings something unique to the table.

The monologues cover a range of topics that are positive, negative, and just plain funny. The most memorable monologue is one in which a woman tries to convince the audience that the word “cunt” shouldn’t be a term that people are ashamed to use. She exemplifies this point by turning the monologue into an interactive stomping-and-clapping-filled sing-a-long of “We Will Rock You,” in which the words of the chorus are replaced with repeated cheers of “cunt!” Another standout monologue is the one told by a dominatrix sex worker (played by Emily Murphy) who strives to pleasure women. Her monologue ends with a bang as she imitates all the women she has slept with, giving a firsthand report of their different moans. When asked after the show where she practiced her plethora of moans, Murphy’s answer was short and sweet: “My floor-mates put up with a lot.”

While the Monologues was initially created to simply “celebrate the vagina,” it has since changed to a movement to stop violence and injustice against women. The Monologues served as an inspiration to found V-Day, a global movement to end violence against women. However, this seems to detract from the original motive of the Monologues. The play is helpful in spreading awareness surrounding violence towards women, but I think the Monologues would be more enjoyable if they stuck to stories which, as advertised, “celebrate the vagina.” Instead, the play sometimes comes across as preachy – condemning men and heterosexual relationships through the negative portrayal of male roles greatly outnumbering the positive ones in the script. This makes the play less appealing to men, limiting the audience that the play’s original message of female sexual empowerment can reach. Nonetheless, the monologues concerning sexual violence and abuse are still very powerful. The final monologue is told from the point of view of a girl who was abducted and forced to work as a sex slave for over two years, eventually escaping with her new child. This monologue ends the play with the effective line meant to be imprinted in every woman’s brain: “No one can take anything from you if you don’t give it to them.”

The advertisements for The Vagina Monologues guarantee that no one will ever look at a woman’s body, or think of sex, in quite the same way again. In my opinion, the Monologues didn’t resonate quite as strongly as the tagline suggests. It was definitely engaging, funny at times, and included a nice variety of stories that showed off the actresses’ talent. However, I would not go so far as to say it completely changed my perspective on sexuality. That being said, it was very entertaining and it is something that both women and men should experience seeing.

The Vagina Monologues run Friday February 5 to Sunday February 7 in Leacock 132. Shows start at 8 p.m. and tickets are $12 for students.

Opera McGill’s production of Igor Stravinsky’s The Rake’s Progress, an opera based on a series of 18th century satirical etchings by William Hogarth, combined intricate costumes and sets with raw musical talent – and the result was enough to convert any doubting opera-goer into a full-fledged fan.

Directed by David Lefkowich, the opera depicted young Tom Rakewell’s descent from shallowness and recklessness to despair and corruption when he unknowingly befriends the devil. In the beginning, Rakewell (played by Frank Mutya) was a daydreamer smitten with Anne Trulove (Véronique Coutu). The two seemed hopelessly in love, but were weighed down by Trulove’s father’s disapproval of Rakewell’s laziness. The arrival of stranger Nick Shadow (Philippe Sly) spun the story in a new direction when he unexpectedly informed Rakewell of his recent inheritance and suggested a trip to London to claim it. As the lovers parted ways, Shadow led Rakewell into an adventurous life of brothels, squandering money, and discovering the tragic neglect of true love.

Stravinsky is known for paying tribute to musical masterminds like Bach and Tchaikovsky, and in The Rake’s Progress he paid particular homage to Mozart. The acclaimed conductor and composer Julian Wachner brought his international experience to the theatre as the Principal Conductor of Opera McGill, and led the McGill Symphony Orchestra in a performance that paralleled the rising and falling action of the story, underscoring moments of both comedy and tragedy with music.

While the opera’s first few scenes were meant to contain little action, the lack of energy distanced the audience from the story, making it difficult to lose yourself in the experience. Fortunately, the energy level increased as the show went on, engaging the audience more and more with each scene.

Sly stole the show with an outstanding performance in his portrayal of Shadow, who leads Rakewell through his heroic downfall. Shadow acted as a puppet master, constantly convincing Tom to plunge deeper into immoral descent. A standout scene in act two involved Shadow toying with Rakewell’s opportunity for freedom in the song “Never Was I Saner,” to which both the audience and Tom fell victim. Coutu captured Trulove’s innocence and virtue in song, with her beautiful rendition of “No Word From Tom,” one of the opera’s famous solos.

The extent of Shadow’s influence over Rakewell was portrayed through the two character’s duets, the most impressive being the scene when Shadow convinced Rakewell to wager his soul in a game of cards. The stunning final scene featured chorus members dressed as psychiatric patients, with eerie lighting and disturbing choreography. The dark story had a hint of optimism – that beauty lies in the final realization of what truly matters, regardless of how long it takes to get there.

Overall it was a combination of musical talent and staged ability that, regardless of the extent of your previous opera experience, could not go unappreciated. Although there were occasional moments of voice clash – detectable during songs in which the lead vocalists were set to harmonize in unison – leaving some drowned out by others in both sound and articulation, overall there were few weaknesses in the vocal performances. The performance made tasteful use of humour and wit through costume design and choreographic accents, best seen in the entertaining brothel scene. The costumes were intricate and beautiful, while the characters came alive through the collective group dynamics of back and forth momentum. The clever integration of set mobility and adaptions of a variety of basic backgrounds provided a feeling of progression from one scene to the next. Precise lighting techniques are exemplified in scenes like the eerie depiction of the psychiatric hospital, making use of back lighting and revealing silhouettes of fidgety patients to perfect the mood.

Stravinsky created a graphic tale of morality, with delightful comedic relief and tragedy set in parallel from start to finish, and the Opera McGill production held true to his vision.