More than two decades after its Toronto beginnings, The Drowsy Chaperone still sparkles with the effervescence that made it an unlikely Canadian export to Broadway. Capping off its season of Canadian musicals, Shifting Ground Collective’s revival at Theatre Passe Muraille taps into that ebullience with an obvious affection for both the musical and the form it parodies.
Bob Martin and Don McKellar’s Canadian hit, with music and lyrics by Lisa Lambert and Greg Morrison, began in Toronto in 1998 as a spoof written for a stag party. Its expanded stage version premiered at the Toronto Fringe Festival in 1999 before moving to Theatre Passe Muraille and later to Mirvish Productions. The 2006 Broadway transfer earned the show five Tony Awards and cemented it as one of Canada’s most internationally successful musicals.
It’s a full circle moment to see this show, which both sends up and adores the fizzy musicals of the 1920s, return to the venue where it first took its full shape. Director Joshua רועי Kilimnik leans into both its buoyant spirit and a sense of nostalgia – allowing the show’s giddy absurdity to coexist exquisitely with the quiet loneliness that underpins it.
The Drowsy Chaperone unfolds in the apartment of a lonely musical theatre devotee known only as Man in Chair. Seeking comfort, he drops the needle on the double album cast recording of The Drowsy Chaperone, which is his favourite fictional 1920s Broadway musical. The show then literally bursts to life in his living room. What follows is a gleefully chaotic wedding farce involving (among others) a Broadway star who is determined to marry, her manager who is determined to thwart the wedding, a forgetful hostess, a swaggering Latin lover, gangsters posing as pastry chefs, an aviatrix, and a delightfully tipsy chaperone who may or may not be entirely reliable.
A perfectly-cast Martin Julien anchors the evening as Man in Chair with wry commentary cloaked in quiet vulnerability. Rather than leaning solely into the character’s comic neuroses, Julien lets flashes of hang-dog melancholy slip through. His narration features Seth Rudetaky-like Broadway insider gossip about the fictitious actors playing the show’s characters. Spilling the tea and providing his sometimes fawning, sometimes critical, always reflective analysis of the musical, grounds the show’s cascading silliness – while revealing why the private ritual of replaying this beloved soundtrack album matters so much to him.
Around him, the deliciously silly fictional 1928 musical jumps into high gear. In keeping with the company’s mandate, a talented ensemble of emerging triple-threat artists performs with commitment and verve. As the central couple, Juliette Schroeder’s actor Janet Van De Graaff radiates Broadway-star sparkle, and Ben Ridd’s Robert Martin offers a suitably earnest romantic foil. At the same time, Heidi Michelle Thomas has evident fun with the title role, delivering the chaperone’s arch observations with breezy, boozy theatrical overconfidence while she lurches around the stage with her always-sloshing martini glass
The supporting company proves equally game in delivering the range of humorous elements. Carlos Basterrachea G.’s Aldolpho arrives with wonderfully full comic bravado as the stereotypical Latin lothario … turned up to 11. Meanwhile, Jill Louise Léger’s absent-minded Mrs Tottendale and Aiden Robert Bruce’s dutiful Underling mine a vein of more deadpan humour to hilarious effect. Kathryn Carter, Mona Hillis, Liam McGibbon, and Diego Teran round out an ensemble that keeps the show’s rapid-fire gags and musical turns moving at a lively clip.
Kilimnik’s direction favours clarity over spectacle, a choice that suits both the intimacy of Theatre Passe Muraille and the show’s playful meta-theatricality. Shannon Murtagh’s jazzy choreography captures the jaunty rhythm of 1920s musical comedy – especially the high stepping opening “Wedding Belles”, the tap routine of “Cold Feet”, and the razzle-dazzle, multi-layered Broadway spoof of “Show off” (which arrives complete with kick line). Jo O’Leary-Ponzo’s music direction keeps the score buoyant and crisp, and it’s a delight to see the cast channel the maximum possible energy through the maximum possible movement, all within such tight quarters.
The production’s other design elements further enable the show’s nimble storytelling. Jessica Balyk’s set and props establish the cozy, modest apartment from which this extravagant fantasy spills outward, with help from Gabriel Woo’s flapper-era wigs and costumes, Jay Hines’s lighting, and Ashley Naomi’s crisp sound design (especially the needle drops and static-y crackles of the Man’s record player). Together, they skillfully evoke the world of a vintage musical, while honouring the deliberately homespun conceit of the show’s staging.
Of course, the humour is more indulgent than biting, and that warmth is a part of the show’s enduring appeal. The Drowsy Chaperone says out loud that musical theatre’s greatest trick is escapism, even – or especially – when we know better. And this self-awareness makes this cheeky bear hug of a musical the perfect vehicle for a rising-star company like Shifting Ground Collective. Their unpretentious, energetic production asks audiences to surrender themselves to ninety minutes of terrifically performed, silly-yet-smart theatrical make-believe — and makes certain that it goes down as delightfully as a well-shaken gin fizz.
Shifting Ground Collective’s The Drowsy Chaperone continues until March 21, 2026. Tickets and audience advisories are available here.
© Arpita Ghosal, Sesaya Arts Magazine 2026
