Direction and Music Harry Standjofski
Come share an eggnog with us at Centaur Theatre’s annual antidote to the excess of candy cane-coated, warm-and-fuzzy feelings typical of the holiday season. For five shows only, this seasonal tongue-in-cheek event features some of Montreal’s best actors telling stories - ranging from side-splittingly hilarious to downright bizarre. Accomplished playwright and actor, Harry Standjofski, directs and provides live music between each irreverent tale.
Exterminating Angel by Yvan Bienvenue, translated & told by Harry Standjofski
The story I’m going to tell you
You don’t have to believe it
I heard it from the mouth of an angel
A common angel
An angel I took for a man
Who is just a man, really
A common angel
The Women’s Christmas by L.M. Leonard, told by Danette MacKay
From my window, I can see everything in her apartment.
She’s half-naked again. Pants off, bottom bare. Skin gleaming in the light.
Her window is like a movie screen that never stops playing. Sometimes she has company – odd looking men for such a pretty young woman – and then she closes the curtains. Intermission. Sometimes she forgets but I don’t look.
A Christmas Caroler written & told by Laurent Pitre
This one time, last Christmas, coldest winter yet, snow up to your waist, I’m sitting at home, sipping some tea, smiling
You know why I’m smiling?
You know why I’m smiling
Because nobody would be crazy enough to go singing outside on a night like this
So, as I said, I’m sitting there, in my house, watching Netflix, on my computer, in my
sweatpants, sipping some tea, smiling
And then, just as I’m about to reach a state that some would describe as heavenly—
Douai by Harry Standjofski, told by Laurent Pitre
This guy was, like, looking at the canal ice or something
He was a poet
He was French but spoke some English
His voice was scratchy
Asked us where we were headed and we told him Kandahar and he looked at us for a second and then said "good luck boys"...
I asked him what he was doing out in the cold so late
Told us he'd just had his “funding slashed”, whatever the fuck that means
The other guys wanted to get going but I asked him "read us something..."
Motherless Milk by Joanne Sarazen, told by Alarey Alsip
Clara cannot be thick. Clara must be thin. She must glide through the air supported by the arms of some airborne, underdeveloped man-child. You mustn’t hurt his back. You mustn’t remind him that he’s weak. Men hate to be reminded that they’re weak. They get angry. I don’t get angry. Except the once. When my breasts wouldn’t stop reminding me of everything I’d lost.
seven last words written and told by Harry Standjofski
Life really does pass before your eyes
When you’re staring down the barrel of a gun
But why is this particular life flashing before mine?
I’m thinking about the differences between the male and female reproductive systems