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UBC Theatre's The Last of the Pelican Daughters combines loss, family, prosecco and birthday cake

UBC Theatre’s production of The Pelican Daughters, created by the Wardrobe Ensemble and directed by Fay Nass, is at its very core a story about a family — how unconditional love can bring us together despite differences, loss and anger. Everyone has dealt with the complexities of family, whether chosen or born into, and this play embodies the theatrics, emotion and love that is so common to us all.

The play asks how far we would go for family, questioning how the loss of a loved one can cause idolization and how our view of those closest to us can change in the light of a loss. Though tackling heavy topics, The Last of the Pelican Daughters manages to remain light and comedic. It’s a perfect representation of the nuances of these experiences.

One of the appeals of theatre is the energy that comes with experiencing something in a group. In the warm, cramped Frederic Wood Theatre, the energy of the crowd was palpable enough to interact with the actors on stage, us and them going through the highs and lows of the play together. The beginning of lines following jokes were cut off by loud laughter, and the gasps that accompanied both plot twists and the reveal of the set were a testament to the calibre of the storytelling, acting and design.

A year after her passing, the Pelican family gathers to celebrate their mother’s birthday. Rosemary Pelican had a tradition of defiance and fun. On the midnight of each of her birthdays, the family would gather on her bed to eat birthday cake.

But this time, the family is still reeling from Rosemary’s death and the long sickness that preceded it. Tensions run high with disputes over inheritance, and though brought together in this moment, everyone is living different lives with their own issues, which come to a head when they all are forced together.

Four daughters, each headstrong, raised by their mother to be independent and confident, are joined in their reunion by in-laws, a comically aged granny, unwanted guests and a forgotten but unforgettable young brother. Each member of the family is given space to develop their story as part of the loud, music-filled family.

They shout, they cry, they dance to John Lennon. They are mean and brutally honest with one another, but caring and joined in a solidarity formed through the stories they reminisce on. All the while, their mother remains present in their choices and in their grief. The set by Ana Maria Camacho and costumes by Elly Ich reflect how Rosemary lives on through her pink wallpapered house hung with Frida Kahlo pieces.

Through flashbacks, each member of the family reflects on their relationship with Rosemary. These are the most emotional sequences of the play. Rosemary Pelican is played not by her own actor, but by each of the other family members in turn.

Each relative has their own human faults, accentuated when viewed by those who know them best. They irritate each other to no end and know one another’s deepest insecurities, but the love they have for each other is shown in their ability to come together when most needed.

You might very well recognize one of your own beloved dysfunctional relatives in one of the cast of characters. Perhaps in how overwhelmed little brother Luke (Matthew Jin) gets from his sister's hysterical yelling. Or in the sense of being an outsider that Derren (Somnus) portrays through elegantly subtle acting. Or the need to step outside for a deep breath in an overgrown garden.

The Last of the Pelican Daughters was a pleasure to watch. It runs at the Frederic Wood Theatre until March 29 — a student ticket costs about the same as one of the many bottles of cheap prosecco consumed by the Pelican family. Buy one here.

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