Irene Sankoff and David Hein
Simon & Brant Theatricals
Lyric Theatre, The Lowry
December 5, 2024-January 5, 2025; 1 hr 40 mins: no interval
While a story about humanity at its best has never been a strange choice for a Christmas show, there might be doubts about this one, set as it is against the backdrop of the terror of 9/11.
A few minutes in, all fears are dispelled.
As the curtain rises we meet a cast of 12 as residents of Gander, Newfoundland. They don’t look like actors. They look like real people, except they can sing and dance. As they start their day in the local cafe, street or school there is a small-town friendliness and an inherited, welcoming openness. Everyone knows one another and fortunately, rather than a suspiciousness of strangers, there is a shared curiousness. Just as well.
It’s 9/11. September 11, 2001.. Gander is about to find 7,000 international airline passengers diverted to the small town, increasing the population by 70% overnight.
Immediately there’s a call to action, to community, to welcome. The call comes from everyone, including the local mayor – someone who gets things done – who knows the community and whose community knows him. Gander residents gather essentials to support their unexpected visitors.
The whole approach towards those who have “come from away“ is “welcome, welcome, welcome” from ordinary people in an extraordinary situation.
The same cast portrays the passengers: in fear, trapped, uninformed, in limbo, arriving from across the globe. They are held on their planes for hours, desperate to know what is happening in the world outside. For those from more repressive regimes, the arrival outside of the uniformed Canadian Mounties strikes terror rather than providing warm reassurance.
Scenes rapidly change from rushing Newfoundlanders to trapped passengers and back again, signalled only by dialogue, reset chairs, and the actors’ body language. This is dynamic ensemble working, with no weaknesses.
That was last night: today I don’t recall any of the songs, but remember that they did their job, helped by sharp direction, varied though Irish-influenced choreography and a superbly talented ensemble cast that never misses a beat as performers move between characters, moods, power and confusion while displaying the power of love, acceptance and community.
The arts world has yet to find ways to express the extensive stories of 9/11. In the meantime, horror created the conditions for humanity to thrive and delve into one of its greatest abilities: the ability to help strangers in times of need and, in so doing, to move their own lives onwards.
Dotted throughout the show are references to the reality taking place elsewhere. We see replications of the images we saw so many times, of people staring and staring at TV screens in disbelief. This time it’s the passengers learning, many hours after the rest of the world, what had actually happened. We see the trauma facing those passengers who have friends or loved ones facing danger: a New York fireman‘s mother bonds with a Newfoundland fireman‘s mother, for example.
My doubts about the show quickly faded. It’s necessarily sentimental at times, but not cloyingly so. It recognises human frailty; for example a natural but unjustified suspicion that crept into some people’s minds before turning to acceptance. It celebrates the qualities of the human race, but never forgets the horror. It’s an unusual, but not unsuitable, choice for a Christmas show, though I won’t be taking the youngest members of the family.
At the first night the curtain call was followed by the appearance on stage of some of the real people, Newfoundlanders and passengers "from away", whose stories were told. There was a short speech from the mayor: the real mayor, whose spirit, work ethic and trust in his community had underpinned the community’s inspiration.
I’m pleased I finally got to see this show. It’s one of the best down-to-earth musicals I’ve experienced in a long time.
More info and tickets here
