post-mortem at Exham.

Peter Counter as DE LA POER and Andrew Gaboury as CAPTAIN NORRYS in The Rats in the Walls.
Photograph by Carla Johnston

A “Dramatic Re-telling.” This is how we billed our stage version of H. P. Lovecraft’s The Rats in the Walls. This is significant to us (Peter Counter, Carla Johnston and I – the Four Winds Collective). It isn’t a re-imagining of the story (some small aspects have been re-imagined, however, and some other liberties were definitely taken throughout it’s adaptation to the stage). At its heart, The Four Winds Collective’s version of The Rats was meant to showcase the style and writing of Howard Phillips himself, and not the writing of Counter and Gaboury. Lovecraft’s writing is a whirlwind of detective work and strings of abhorred adjectives. He knows every detail of his story intimately and tells it exactly how he wants to; only revealing enough for the reader to piece together that something is off, something is strange and altogether unexplainable (or unimaginable). He deluges his audience with an overwhelming amount of information, of stories and fables, or names and dates. Lovecraft wants his readers to experience his tales the same way his characters have to; as in real life not everything is immediately clear to the protagonist. The truth to stories are often presented only after the fact, upon reflection - something that is taken for granted all too often in this day and age (why do we need to reflect on anything when Wikipedia and Google, and therefore thousands of opinions and answers are seconds away?).

There are entire sections of the story we have left whole; held together the exact way Lovecraft wrote it out. We edited for flow and pacing and yes, we did take liberties in order to create the character of Edward Norrys (which, through examining his original story, we easily pieced together). But I would say the show we wrote/adapted is 80% Lovecraft, 20% Counter and Gaboury.

The three of us (the collective) trained and graduated from a devised theatre program at York University. The program, currently in it’s final year before evolving into something structurally different, used to be called the Creative Ensemble. It was three years of non-stop group devising; three years of starting with a common inspiration and developing an original piece of theatre while embracing methods outside convention.

So often, outside a classroom setting, the theatre I’ve been a part of since graduating has all been of the same mould: I get a script, a get a character, and I get called in to rehearsal while someone else tells me what they want me to do. I hate this mould. Or, rather, I used to. I still participate in this style of theatre mostly because I can’t really avoid it. But this year I’ve taken these kinds of productions as a way of forcing myself to get out of my head (one thing the Ensemble was bad for was an instilled sense of “my ideas are better than yours” and a lack of very specific, conservatory-style training to implement those ideas to their greatest potential). I am forever thankful to the training I received at York, for it has made me sure of my potential. But potential needs to be nurtured. It needs to be taken by someone else who can also see it and shape it towards, hopefully, a helpful end. This year I’ve been using these despised-theatre-moulded-productions as a way of making myself better. And less conceited. Ha.

As I said above, after graduating I found it hard, or rare, to become part of an original piece of theatre with the intention of being created in a similar way to those we created in university.

We had this thing in Ensemble called a “first pass.” After devising, we showed what we had to our classmates, received critique, then went off to retool our creations.


The Rats in the Walls we performed over the last two weeks was in it’s “first pass.” Our focus was telling the story, relating it in the Gothic Horror style, and presenting it in one of the many historic homes that have been preserved across Canada. We put the show up, gave it legs and begun experimenting with methods of story-telling and staging. Now, like most pieces of theatre, we will allow it to incubate, to grow and we will re-examine scenes. We found what works, and what can work even better. Who knows? Maybe next time, a “Dramatic Re-telling” will not be a fitting label for it. Maybe next time, the show will be a little more even, 50% Lovecraft, 50% Counter and Gaboury. Who knows?

We don’t. But we’ll find out. Why not come along for the ride?
--