Casey and Diana

Nick Green’s Casey and Diana treads the well worn path of those that came before it, but it is this work’s humour and humanity that draws and audience in and hold them till the last breathe.

Thomas just has to hold on for seven more days – seven days to prepare, seven days to ready his roommate, seven days to stay alive. Because in seven more days he is about to meet a real life princess. In 1991, Princess Diana visited Toronto’s Casey House hospice and with one gesture of kindness, she changed the public perception of HIV/AIDS forever.

Nick Green uses the historical visit as a metaphor for hope, connection and kindness, allowing the story to unfold through the ups and downs of the characters and shying away from exposition. There is an honesty to the work that is brutal in its intent but not negatively.

Rather, Green simply shows the reality of the virus and the impact it has on not just those living with it but the effect it has on the caregivers, the friends and families doing what they can to see their patients and loved ones through another day.

Nancy Denis directs the work with perfect precision – using every inch of the notoriously difficult space, ensuring the emotive tension never lapses. The strength of Denis’ direction is evident in how they prioritise the audience, with each scene and moment crafted into a conversation, a call and response, an invitation to come into this world for two hours and discover what you will find.

All too often directors seem to shut audiences out but Denis is masterful in the way that they weave through a sense of play throughout the work, creating a lively and alive production grounded in its emotional intensity and heartbreakingly real in its honesty.

Chad Traupmann is an absolute gift to the stage and in this play he is barely off it. From the first snide side eye to the last stance of pride, Traupmann’s character work and sheer breadth of talent is second to none, delivering a flawless performance that showcases their range as an actor as well as an astonishing commitment to the craft.

Gabriel Alvarado brings the vulnerability to the work, riding the rollercoaster of his character’s emotions with the right amount of restraint and overflow, giving their character the depth of someone completely unknowing if tomorrow will come.

Isabel Burton, Linda Nicholls-Gidley, Lucy Miller and Lib Campbell round out the ensemble with committed and admirable performances in some very underwritten and, sadly it is often the case in this genre of work, one dimensional cliché female roles.

Maitê Inaê designs the work with a haunting juxtaposition – stark white walls allow bursts of lighting to colour the world, shining a light in the literal darkness that uplifts rather than dampens hope.