I couldn’t recall a moment during A Beautiful View, running at Factory Theatre until March 9, when I wasn’t enthralled by the two-hander on stage. At one point I was cracking up in laughter and another I was staring intently at the tears running down an actress’s face during one of the most tense scenes of the 65-minute production.
The play opens with two young women meeting at a camping store, awkwardly talking about their passions and goals. Amy Rutherford and Becky Johnson play the two women in question, but they aren’t given names, so they almost act as the Everywomen you may also stumble across randomly. Rutherford’s character is practical and headstrong while Johnson plays a flighty fast-talking girl who lies about being in a ukulele-fronted band.
The relationship between the two are told in the past tense, signifying a truly tumultuous middle following a friendly bushy-tailed beginning. The women rumble through a parade of boyfriends, but behind it all is the sexual tension of queer curiosity that lives behind the women’s flirty glances.
Rutherford and Johnson do an excellent job in conveying the many nuances associated with this relationship: the folksy fun of playing instruments together, the fiery desires living deep inside their bond, the laughs they share to cut through the darker periods of their lives. Johnson is especially entertaining to watch, in part thanks to her extensive experience playing a range of characters as an improv artist.
The sparse set proves effective because the dialogue is what truly makes A Beautiful View a big hit. MacIvor, a legend in the Canadian theatre industry, has a knack for the quick repartee the two characters enjoy, something not every playwright can pull off seamlessly. He also spices the play with enough humour to make the anxious moments less grating.
A Beautiful View might not always be, well, beautiful, but it carries a weight behind it that will resonate with anyone who’s stumbled into a friendship that could be oh so much more.
By Daniel MacIvor. Directed by Ross Manson. Until March 9 at Factory Studio Theatre, 125 Bathurst St. 416-504-9971
