Starring Kathryn Akin, Marty Burt, Steffi DiDomenicantonio. Written by Brian Yorkey, Tom Kitt. Directed by Kate Stevenson. Tarragon Theatre Extra Space, to June 16.

Next to Normal contains a song called “I Miss the Mountains” that happens to be the greatest Broadway show tune ever written about the effect of mood-stabilizing drugs. Okay, so it’s probably the only Broadway show tune about mood-stabilizing drugs, but that’s the point: This musical is one of those brave works that expand the horizons of the genre. Brian Yorkey and Tom Kitt’s 2010 Pulitzer Prize winner deals with mental illness, grief, substance abuse, attempted suicide, and a dysfunctional family, and explores those areas against a propulsive rock score. It’s also fundamentally a chamber piece that lends itself well to a stripped-down treatment, as Clearwater Theatre proves with its stunning production in Tarragon’s intimate Extra Space.

This is a reprise of the show Clearwater first presented last spring, with many new members in the cast and creative team. But happily, the marvellous Kathryn Akin is back as Diana Goodman, the wife and mother whose struggle with bipolar disorder drives the plot. Her acting is so expressive you feel like you’re inside Diana’s mercurial brain, while her powerful singing cuts right to your heart.

Akin is joined by show newcomers Marty Burt, as Diana’s perplexed husband, Dan, and Steffi DiDomenicantonio as their bitter, neglected daughter, Natalie. James Daly returns as golden-boy Gabe, the son whose fate is key to Diana’s mental breakdown. All three are first-rate, and they get solid support from co-stars David Coomber and Beau Dixon. Kate Stevenson’s no-frills staging employs a small band and the barest suggestion of a set. Instead, she lets the performers fill the space with towering emotions.

Starring Maev Beaty, Andrew Kushnir, Cyrus Lane, Amy Keating, Julie Tepperman, Mayko Nguyen. Written by Sarah Ruhl. Directed by Alan Dilworth, Aaron Willis, Mitchell Cushman. Withrow Park and Eastminster United Church, to June 30.

Though “epic” is a seriously overused word these days, there’s hardly another way to describe the elements that have brought Sarah Ruhl’s Passion Play to Toronto. Three independent companies, with a cast and crew of 35 in total, have collaborated on this three-act, three-and-a-half hour play, which spans Elizabethan England, Hitler-ruled Bavaria, and Ronald Reagan’s South Dakota (with the inestimable Maev Beaty bringing those notorious leaders to life), and takes place in the east end’s Withrow Park and the nearby Eastminster United Church. The evening even includes a snack break of grape juice and bagels, a culinary combo that befits a church-basement congregation. The ambitious project has taken several years of planning, and that time allowed Ruhl’s ambitious script to reach its full potential. Directors Alan Dilworth (Sheep No Wool), Aaron Willis (Convergence Theatre), and Mitchell Cushman (Outside the March), and their impressive, if somewhat uneven, cast offset the large-scale nature of the play with understated human stories of love, identity, and faith, supported by simple but impactful images. This is indie theatre ascending to new heights.

Sarah Ruhl’s Passion Play is not your typical depiction of the death of Jesus Christ. It’s a funny, fanciful, three-part—and three-hour-plus—cycle that uses the centuries-old Christian pageant to examine the historical convergence of religion, politics, and theatre. First produced in 2005, the acclaimed American playwright’s ambitious work is finally having its Canadian premiere, thanks to three of Toronto’s most adventurous indie companies. The project began when Mitchell Cushman, co–artistic director of Outside the March, caught the cycle’s New York debut in 2010 and was “completely blown away” by its imagination and scope. Three years later, his dream of staging it in Toronto has come true, thanks to an alliance with like-minded companies Convergence Theatre and Sheep No Wool.  Their promenade-style show, which begins this Thursday, kicks off with Part 1 in Withrow Park. Then actors and audience troop north to the Danforth, where Parts 2 and 3 will transpire in the hallowed confines of Eastminster United Church.

Part 1: England, 1575

Withrow Park

The first part of Passion Play is set in a seaside village in northern England, where the locals continue to stage an annual Passion even as Queen Elizabeth I is purging her kingdom of such Catholic rituals. As rehearsals progress, a love triangle develops. Mary (Mayko Nguyen), the young woman playing the Virgin Mother, lusts after John the fisherman (Andrew Kushnir), who is cast as Jesus. But he identifies too strongly with his divine role, so she turns in desperation to Pontius (Cyrus Lane), the self-hating fish gutter who plays Pontius Pilate. Their situation introduces one of the cycle’s main themes, in which the common-folk actors measure themselves against the exalted and reviled figures they portray. Part 1 also launches a series of recurring whimsical images, including a mysterious red sky and—to quote the stage directions—“big, beautiful fish puppets.” When the story is over, the show’s apprentice “Passion Players” will guide everyone on foot in a musical procession up to the Danforth.

Part 2: Germany, 1934

Eastminster United Church

The dark second part of the triptych puts us in Oberammergau, the Bavarian village famous for its four-century-old Passion Play, in the early days of the Nazi regime. As the play is rehearsed, the village’s lone Jew, young Violet (Amy Keating), questions its story, while a visiting Adolf Hitler embraces its elements of anti-Semitism. Hitler is portrayed by actor (and Sheep No Wool co-founder) Maev Beaty, who starred this past season in Outside the March’s much-lauded Terminus. She also takes on Elizabeth I in Part 1 and Ronald Reagan in Part 3. Although male actors have played the three historical figures in past productions, Cushman says the Dora Award–winning Beaty—who is eight months pregnant—was an irresistible choice. Part 2 is being presented on a thrust stage in Eastminster’s vintage auditorium, a space Cushman describes as a fabulous hybrid: “If a church and a theatre had a baby, it would look like this room.”

Part 3: South Dakota, 1969–the mid-’80s

Eastminster United Church

The third and final part, directed by Cushman, takes place in Spearfish, S.D., which until 2008 was the site of the longest-running Passion Play in the United States. The play spans the Vietnam and Reagan eras, focussing on a damaged war vet (Lane) who returns home to Spearfish and tries to take up his old role as Pontius Pilate. His trauma reaches a crisis point when Reagan himself visits the Passion Play and uses it to promote his Republican brand of “family values.” That’s one of the aspects of Ruhl’s play that Cushman finds fascinating. “It’s about how performance can be used as a tool to indoctrinate, and that’s as true today in our political narratives as it is in any time or place,” he says. For Part 3, the Eastminster auditorium will be reconfigured into an alley-style space, with the audience seated on either side. During the changeover/intermission, food will also be provided. “Taking care of people is really important for us,” Cushman says. “It’s going to be a long experience, but we think there should be a ritual aspect to it. That’s what we’re aiming for.”

Passion Play runs from June 6 to 30 in Withrow Park and at Eastminster United Church, 310 Danforth Ave., 416-822-3710, passionplaytoronto.eventbrite.ca.

Written and performed by Flerida Peña. Directed by Nina Lee Aquino. Aki Studio Theatre, Daniels Spectrum (Regent Park), to June 16.

This has been a banner season for politically incorrect play titles: Shakespeare’s Nigga, Ching Chong Chinaman, and now Sister Mary’s a Dyke?! Like those other plays, Sister Mary’s… reclaims its slur—in this case, turning it into a cry of astonishment and joy. Fledgling playwright-actress Flerida Peña’s solo piece, getting its premiere from Cahoots Theatre Company, is a fresh, funny take on the coming-out story, filled less with angst than with awe and coloured by an adolescent’s wild, Hollywood-moulded imagination.

Peña plays Abigail, a 14-year-old Filipina girl from Mississauga who has just enrolled in Crown of Thorns Academy, an all-girls Catholic school in Rosedale. In the first part of her monologue—which she delivers to Jesus with all the naïve candour of a Judy Blume heroine—Abby wrestles with religious doctrine and her nascent erotic feelings for another girl, the sporty Eleanor. But Abby is hardly alone. It turns out the school is a hive of Sapphic activity, and their headmistress, Sister Mary, is secretly a feminist radical plotting to overthrow the papacy. All of a sudden, Abby is part of a Mission: Impossible–type scenario involving skydiving schoolgirls with assault rifles and an alternative version of Pope Benedict XVI’s “resignation.”

Peña’s writing and performance are raw but engaging, and director Nina Lee Aquino keeps her scrambling all over Camellia Koo’s chapel-themed set. The show’s physical-comedy highlight is a hilarious scene in which Abby is deflowered by her inamorata inside a tent. But beneath its hijinks, this play poignantly captures the confusion that occurs when simple faith and budding sexual orientation are confronted with the contradictions and corruptions of organized religion.

Starring Nicola Elbro, Michael Iliadis, Samara Stern, Chad Thurlow. Written by AJ Laflamme. Directed by Cory Doran. Red Sandcastle Theatre, to June 9.

Homestead Theatre Project claims to make theatre for millennials permanently attached to their smartphones; in other words, for themselves—playwright AJ Laflamme signs her program note with an emoticon. With a successful Toronto Fringe show (last summer’s U.S. Drag) behind them, these young theatremakers are full of energy and promise, but unfortunately, an underdeveloped story leaves the players in Empty Boxes, their first proper production, running on empty. When their seven-year relationship comes to an end, former “perfect couple” Sarah (Nicole Elbro) and Kevin (Michael Iliadis) pack up their apartment. As they sort through items, their romantic history plays out in flashbacks—Samara Stern and Chad Thurlow play their younger selves—which reveal how their love lost its way. Elbro and Thurlow find sincerity in a verbose and sentimental script, but in general, there’s too much

Back in February, a Calgary-based drama professor that I know sent me an email, saying she was coming to Toronto shortly and wondering if there was any theatre I could recommend. Without hesitating, I urged her to go see the Hannah Moscovitch double bill opening at Tarragon. I was a particular fan of the first play on the bill, Little One, having seen it at SummerWorks, and I subsequently gave it a nine-out-of-10 rave in The Grid.  So imagine my shock when the prof shot me back an email after her Toronto visit, telling me she “hated hated hated” the Moscovitch pieces. “I thought there was nothing new there,” she wrote, “except the creepy sexuality of infants! Yuk.”

I wondered if I’d got it wrong: Was Moscovitch just being perverse for the sake of being perverse? No, Little One is a serious play—framed as a disturbing black comedy—about the damage inflicted on a young girl by childhood sexual abuse. It’s a horrifying subject that Moscovitch makes bearable by telling the story through the eyes of the girl’s bewildered brother. As a work of Canadian theatre, I saw it as a direct descendant of Daniel MacIvor’s Monster and Brad Fraser’s Unidentified Human Remains and the True Nature of Love, two dark but entertaining plays I’ve loved in the past.

Still, I understand the professor’s visceral reaction. Even as a critic who sees a wide variety of theatre, and who can get equal, if different, enjoyment out of watching Beckett’s Endgame and a Ross Petty panto, there are times when I encounter a show that I unequivocally hate. I’m not talking about shows that are incompetently done, necessarily, but rather the ones that don’t work for me on any level.

I know my colleagues have the same experience. I sat down with four of them recently to determine the winners of this year’s Toronto Theatre Critics’ Awards. There are few things more pleasurable for a critic than to go through the past season and hand out prizes for shows and artists you felt were outstanding—even if, as in the case of the fledgling TTCAs, those prizes amount to little more than a fancy certificate and a hearty handshake.

But the TTCA meetings also mean running up against your fellow critics—who don’t always see eye-to-eye. This past season was particularly notable for conflicting opinions. Glenn Sumi of NOW had hailed Melissa James Gibson’s THIS at Canadian Stage as “one of the best plays and productions of this or any other year.” The rest of us, while admiring aspects of the show, weren’t quite as impressed. The National Post’s Robert Cushman and I were enthusiastic about Nightwood Theatre’s Between the Sheets. The other critics on the TTCA panel didn’t share our enthusiasm.

The word “hate,” however, came up only once during our discussions and, as with the professor’s reaction to Moscovitch, it surprised me. In a major category that I won’t name, three of us put forward a production that we felt deserved the award. The other two critics, however, not only didn’t like it, as they repeatedly reminded us during the discussion, they “hated it.” Trying to convince them of its merits was pointless. You might as well be asking a vegetarian to appreciate steak tartare. In the end, the award went to an alternate choice that we all agreed on.

Professional critics are often seen as petty, nitpicking curmudgeons, if not dismissed as failed artists full of envy and malice. That image hardly fits my gentle, good-humoured—if always highly opinionated—Toronto cohorts, or indeed most of the theatre critics I’ve known. The one characteristic we all seem to share is an unquenchable passion for the theatre. But we’re only human, with our particular affinities and prejudices, and what will move one of us can leave another stone cold.

I found myself on the other half of the hate/love divide just a few weeks ago, when I panned Stopheart, the season closer at Factory Theatre. It was a new play that the Factory people evidently believed in, but I was hard put to find anything about it that I liked. Several colleagues said they were surprised at my vitriol, and other reviews of the play weren’t as harsh. But that’s the way it goes. While critics have a responsibility to give every work a fair assessment, they also need to be honest about their feelings. Their opinion may shock or annoy or anger you, but it’s more important to be able to trust their integrity than it is to agree with their tastes.

Written by and starring Stewart Legere. Directed by Christian Barry. Videofag, to June 2.

In his one-man show, El Camino or The Field of Stars—the title is inspired by the annual El Camino de Santiago pilgrimage in northern Spain—Halifax-based musician, writer, and actor Stewart Legere isn’t afraid to wander as he tells a story of sexuality, acceptance, love, regret, and Henry, a former lover.

Alone in a spotlight on a tiny stage, Legere speaks softly, quickly, and nervously. He begins a tangent, then abandons it. He decides to involve the audience and turns on the lights, then quickly plunges us back into darkness. He moves us, literally. He follows no linear sequence of events. He saves the beginning of his journey for the very end. Thanks to director Christian Barry’s outside eye, which provides some structure, and Legere’s genuine charm and vulnerability, we’re able to keep up, somehow.

There’s solid storytelling in the show’s clearer narrative moments, which help create Legere’s sad sort of fairytale about a doomed relationship. He says, “I just want you to like me,” and we do. But confidence is also an attractive quality, and El Camino could use a little more—if not from Legere, himself, then from other projection, sound, and lighting elements to ground the story. An audience is more than happy to wander along the journey, as long as we trust our guide to know where we’re going.

Starring Paul Sun-Hyung Lee, Grace Lynn Kung, Jean Yoon. Written by Ins Choi. Directed by Weyni Mengesha. Young Centre, to June 19.

We’re still waiting for Kim’s Convenience to be turned into a CBC sitcom. In the meantime, Soulpepper Theatre is once again remounting Ins Choi’s hilarious, heartwarming play about a momentous day in the life of a Regent Park store owner and his family. As Mr. Kim (Paul Sun-Hyung Lee) quarrels with his adult daughter (Grace Lynn Kung), who is refusing to take over the business so he can retire, his wife (Jean Yoon) secretly meets with their long-estranged son (Choi), a black sheep aching to return to the fold. The latest version of Weyni Mengsha’s hit production includes a couple of shiny new cast members in Kung and Andre Sills, who ably assumes four roles. But the soul of the show remains Lee’s Mr. Kim, the proud Korean teacher-turned-shopkeeper with a pedagogue’s manner and some wicked martial arts skills. He’s a lovable, larger-than-life character and Lee plays him with broad humour and deep affection. If you haven’t been to Kim’s yet, it’s a must; if you have, it’s worth a return visit.

Terminus was the wind beneath the reviewers’ wings this past season. The surreal Irish play, involving vicious lesbians, wormy demons and a classic Bette Midler song, has won four prizes from the Toronto Theatre Critics Awards. The show, presented by Outside the March and Mirvish Productions, was named Best Production of 2012-13, and also picked up citations for Best Director (Mitchell Cushman), Best Design (Nicholas Blais) and Best International Play for Dublin playwright Mark O’Rowe. Originally staged at SummerWorks, Terminus was remounted at the Royal Alexandra Theatre to open the inaugural Off-Mirvish season.

The third annual awards, given by the critics of Toronto’s major daily and weekly publications, were announced Thursday. The TTCA for Best Canadian Play went to This is War, Hannah Moscovitch’s complex drama about stressed-out Canadian soldiers in Afghanistan, which premiered at Tarragon Theatre. The touring version of Broadway mega-hit The Book of Mormon was crowned Best Musical Production. The directors of that cheekily irreverent show, Casey Nicholaw and Trey Parker, took the musical-direction prize.

Stuart Hughes was deemed Best Actor for his powerful performance as John Proctor in Soulpepper’s revival of Arthur Miller’s The Crucible. Michelle Monteith won Best Actress for her chilling portrayal of a damaged young woman in another Moscovitch play, Little One, also at Tarragon. The ubiquitous Maev Beaty got the Best Supporting Actress nod for her turn as a loose-cannon MP in Michael Healey’s controversial Harper-government satire, Proud. Alon Nashman was awarded Best Supporting Actor for ringing new changes on the stereotypical role of the funny gay friend in Canadian Stage’s THIS.

In the musical category, Bruce Dow was dubbed Best Actor for his fearless performance as super-freak Leigh Bowery in Ecce Homo’s Of a Monstrous Child: A Gaga Musical. Bree Greig won for Best Actress for Do You Want What I Have Got? A Craigslist Cantata, seen at Factory Theatre. Supporting awards went to Darrin Baker as the love-struck psychiatrist in Acting Up Stage Company’s Falsettos and Bryn McAuley as a deliciously flaky Little Red Riding Hood in the Ross Petty panto, Snow White.

The TTCAs are chosen by a panel consisting of Richard Ouzounian (Toronto Star), J. Kelly Nestruck (The Globe and Mail), Robert Cushman (National Post), Glenn Sumi (NOW) and yours truly, representing The Grid. This year, the critics considered shows that opened between June 2012 and May 2013. During deliberations, jurors who had a conflict of interest with an eligible production were not allowed to nominate or vote for it, except in the case of a tie. An awards ceremony at The Spoke Club (600 King St. West) will be held at a later date.

Starring Bruce Dow, Kimberly Persona, Gavin Crawford. Written and directed by Alistair Newton. Buddies in Bad Times Theatre, to May 26.

Lady Gaga sprang onto the world stage in 2008 like some fabulous pop-culture monster, encrusted in influences. Alistair Newton is determined to shine a light on every last one of them. Newton’s Of a Monstrous Child: A Gaga Musical, produced by his Ecce Homo Theatre and premiering at Buddies in Bad Times, isn’t a musical so much as an ambitious theatrical essay, stuffed with references to pop, queer, and avant-garde icons. There are cameos by Madonna and Andy Warhol, Marina Abramovic and Quentin Crisp—most of them embodied by that droll chameleon, Gavin Crawford. Above all, there’s the Lady’s strangest antecedent, the late, legendary Australian performance artist Leigh Bowery, brought back to weird and wonderful life by Stratford star Bruce Dow.

The tart-tongued Bowery appears before a naïve young Gaga fan (Tyson James) and proceeds to give him, and us, a lecture on her place in art and culture. Quotes from Gaga, née Stefani Germanotta (Kimberly Persona), are interspersed with comments from her admirers and detractors. Fragments of her songs are mashed up with those by precursors like David Bowie and Radiohead. James’s character, meanwhile, gives a voice to the alienated youth who see her as a figure of empowerment.

As Bowery, Dow is beguiling and fearless—he’s far more compelling than Persona’s wan diva. Newton’s staging is bumpy but often entertaining, at one point paying homage to Bowery’s notorious Birth Show routine, and at another recreating a classic Yoko Ono performance piece. Whether you regard Gaga as “the patron saint of artifice” or Our Lady of the Misfits, you’ll come away appreciating that she’s part of one great freaky tradition.