Clocking in at nine hours, Robert Lepage's Lipsynch is a once in a lifetime theatrical experience. A huge, sprawling masterpiece, its sheer narrative load has more in common with a novel or television series than your average play, and is far more satisfying. And before you ask, don't worry… there are a lot of toilet breaks.
Consisting of nine interlocking tales, the play begins with a baby crying on a plane. His mother won't wake, and we follow his story, then the stories of people who touch his life, and the stories of people who touch theirs. The overarching theme of these interwoven narratives is voice: each character's journey is refracted through some aspect of speech, voice or song, from a singer whose brain surgery gives her aphasia, to a man who changes his accent to escape his former life. In keeping with this, the show is full of musical performances, including opera, jazz, choral music and a surprisingly good heavy metal moment showing the full range of the international cast's talents.
Despite its length, Lipsynch is compulsively watchable; the acts move through space and time with a deftness that is almost cinematic. Set designer Jean Hazel has a genius for capturing different interiors – cars, kitchens, shops, studios – almost all of which are created using a spare, modular set of panels. Screens, live projections and some very clever stage illusions also feature.
Ironically, the play's only technical failure is the subtitling, which is patchy and poorly synched – a serious let down in a play that is all about voice. The writing does also lag a little at times, but not enough to cancel out all the brilliant stuff in between. It's unlikely you will ever have a better opportunity to indulge in an entire day of stunning theatrical storytelling.
