New plays that centre men aren’t exactly flooding the contemporary theatre landscape—and for good reason. But when one appears that earns its place, you take note.
Eric Trudell’s Knife, now playing at Theatre Centre in its modest-but-mighty world premiere production by Stagepunk Theatre, qualifies.
It starts out as a sharp takedown of today’s brutal early-career job market. Luke (Noah Grittani), a gawky summer hire, joins a door-to-door knife sales team. He buys the $350 demonstrator kit. He sees people slam doors or refuse to answer them, or scream at him. He needs to hit his probationary targets, or he’s gone. And he is taught to covet the dead-end advancement opportunity of becoming a Team Leader like Isaac (Jordan Jerry Kuper).
But always looming in the background is the inevitability of Amazon rendering the whole enterprise extinct. It feels like pointed Multi Level Marketing satire. It’s incisive and laugh-out-loud funny: from its role-play practice sessions to its character-driven jabs (Luke’s comment about what would happen if they were selling their knives door-to-door in the US lands perfectly).
Knife is rock-solid in formulating this critique, but it’s just the springboard for something richer: a knotted, moving exploration of the even sadder precarity of male friendship in today’s world. It’s a topic that a lot of (digital) ink has been spilled over in the past few years, and the actors absolutely shine in bringing it to life.
José Andrés Bordas delivers a volatile but fragile performance as the older, more cynical Tanner. A veteran seller, he is battling health and relationship struggles—plus crippling, needy loneliness. Meanwhile, Grittani’s comic timing as the younger Luke is masterful: you can see the gears turning as he says the awkward thing, creates the uncomfortable half-pause, sits in the wrong spot, or gets guilted into going for drinks when every instinct screams “Retreat!” And Kuper is simply excellent as Isaac the young boss. He wears corporate cheerfulness like an ill-fitting outfit, delivering tough messages imperfectly, while tamping down the increasing pressures of his own personal life. And in a brief but polished turn, Gabriel Hudson’s Reggie is Isaac’s lethal, perfected corporate shadow.
For different reasons, the three principals each need a friend, but—as men today so often do—they clumsily try to build friendships on the shallow ground of work and bar outings. So when life gets too real or challenging, the pain leaks out obliquely amidst the usual bravado and bluster. The friendships have not been fortified to handle it directly.
Millie Cameron’s deceptively simple set—a versatile picnic table where the salesmen gather before door-knocking—grounds the action beautifully, while Paige Thompson’s lighting finds its most striking expression in a mid-play eclipse scene that satirically illuminates just what these stunted 21st-century men don’t have access to.
Ultimately, the play goes to some sad and dark places before an ending that is simple, heartfelt, and grounded (literally). It’s an impressive arc, and Trudel—who is the show’s author and director—feels like a name to watch. His script pops, and his direction is sharp and unfussy, drawing nuanced performances from these leads, who play off each other brilliantly.
Knife cuts deep. Men, especially, will leave with questions that linger after the lights come up. Who would you call, if you really needed someone? And have you built a friendship that could bear the weight?
Stagepunk Theatre’s production of Knife is on stage at the Theatre Centre’s BMO Incubator until April 26, 2026. Tickets and advisories are available at theatrecentre.org.
© Scott Sneddon, Sesaya Arts Magazine 2026
