(Attn: Spoilers)
Last Friday, I climbed up MainLine Theatre's dark staircase to witness The Mid-Life Crisis of Dionysus, an original theatre production rife with wine, women and song, written by Jeremy Hechtman and Patrick Goddard.

The folks at Circo Hiverno sure don't need me to tell them that that their quirky variety act, ranging from stunning dance performances to an offbeat magic show delivered by a some guy in a used car salesman getup, was extremely successful. I don't doubt from the loudly appreciative packed house on Friday night that all three of their latest performances mark another victorious round for this circus act.

One of my favorite things about the show is that there is no overarching theme or grand guiding concept. What do a drunken Jazz singer, a quirky janitor and a daring aerialist have in common? Not that much, apart from all being awesome. Despite this, the many different acts were well integrated, each one led seamlessly into the next as each performer tried to outdo the last.

We all know the story - on an epic journey home after fighting in the Trojan War, one of the challenges Ulysses had to overcome was the threat posed by the Sirens, three enchanting women whose singing was known to distract sailors into wrecking their ships on the rocky shore of their island. This myth is also behind the title of choreographer Dominique Porte's latest work, Ulysse, nous et les sirènes.

One of six plays featured at this year's Wildside Festival, Dust is the story of two soldiers working in the Abu Ghraib, falling in love in a desperate situation.

Written and is this case directed by Jason Maghanoy, the play has been performed several times since 2006 when it was first presented as a solo show at the National Theatre School of Canada. For the Wildside, the two main (and only!) characters are played by Brandon Coffey, in the role of Jonathan and Jessica Moss, as Jenny. Both actors really give this play a lot- delivering energetic performances that pull off everything from sweetly sincere to chillingly sinister. Jessica Moss pushes especially hard at these limits, showing both a charming exuberance as well as a chilling lack of empathy or understanding.

One of the most iconic images commonly associated with theatre is that of the comedy and tragedy masks; a giddy, almost maniacal agape maw contrasted by the anguished, down-turned mouth of its juxtaposed twin mask. However, as I spoke to director Terry Donald and actor Matthew Raudsepp of A View From The Bridge , I realized that, ironically, theatre often serves as an unmasking of sorts, by exploring, revealing and challenging what it is to be human.

What do a homosexual hairdresser, a dead crow, an awkward dance number to 80s synth-ballad "Love Hurts," and fish-petting have in common? Nothing--unless you're part of the audience at Marie Brassard's one-woman show Jimmy, a theatrical journey through Dali-esque dreamscapes in which identities are fluid and events are utterly random.

The first time I saw the Coal Choir was a rather mysterious experience. The show was at Eastern Bloc, and when it was about to begin the audience was led from the main space along a winding hallway into a small back room, where the members of the choir stood, framed by candlelight, branches, and various found objects. The whole moment was otherworldly. Yesterday, I relived some of that experience when I went to see a rehearsal of Olivia: A Folk Opera, Coal Choir's latest, and last, production.

Les Grands Ballets Canadiens de Montréal has been on something of a story ballet kick in recent years. But the company isn't doing story ballets the way you would expect - with lavish productions of Swan Lake, Sleeping Beauty, or Giselle. Instead, Les Grands is filling their repertoire with avant-garde re-imaginings of classic tales. First, in 2001, there was Kim Brandstrup's The Queen of Spades. In 2003 the company commissioned Belgian choreographer Stijn Celis to create a new version of Cinderella for its dancers. In 2004 they staged Jean-Christophe Maillot's Romeo and Juliet, and the next year came Kader Belarbi's La Bête et la Belle. Maillot's R & J was restaged in 2006, and is being performed again this year throughout October. Which doesn't necessarily surprise me, but it is, at least for me, disappointing.

Directed by Kate Champion, Australian theatre company Force Majeure's production The Age I'm In brings ten performers from all different walks of life to the stage. Dancers and actors ranging in age from 15 to 80 years old artfully depict the ways in which our bodies, minds, outlooks and circumstances shift as the years go by.

N'étant pas une critique, ni même une grande amateure de théâtre, je me suis vue prise d'un élan d'enthousiasme devant la programmation du festival Juste Pour Rire.

Boeing Boeing est une pièce qui surexploiterait le complexe de Don Juan et les qui-pro-quo sans une mise en scène habile et des acteurs plus que compétents.

Adaptée par Serge Postigo de la pièce originale de Marc Camoletti, Boeing Boeing raconte l'histoire de Bernard (Pierre-François Legendre), architecte québécois expatrié à Paris et tombeur de ces dames, qui a non pas une, ni deux, mais bien trois fiancées, toutes hôtesses de l'air avec des plages horaires différentes.

Theatre's communicative potential is undisputed. It can mentally loop the audience with the performers they are watching. They gain not only an abstract message but can themselves engage in a range of emotions displayed or elicited by the performance. Such potential for drawing understanding and empathy is what led Barry Cole, President of the Cole Foundation, to pursue his community support initiative in the form of grants to theatre companies who wish to engage in "Intercultural Conversations".

The boys of Uncalled For

I don't care what you say, weather forecast, I refuse to believe your call for rain all weekend. I don't want to hear it--la la la la la la--everyone knows you're always wrong anyway. Perhaps if we all gather our collective processing power (mental or computer, whatever works), we can perform a rain dance strong enough to ward off this wet weather pattern from washing out all the awesome events we've got going on.

For one, most of St. Laurent Blvd. is supposed to be transformed to Club "Main," not Club "Rain" and my rain slicker clashes with my tankini. But if I need to drag out the galoshes, then I'm going to make the most of it and Fringe till I can Fringe no more (Sunday night). There's still a good number of shows left to see, and here's a selection that look the most promising.