Genre-defying “Universal Child Care” packs a poignant wallop

Currently captivating audiences at Canadian Stage, Universal Child Care defies easy definition.

It’s a play – no, it’s a musical concert featuring diverse tunes delivered by great voices, right?

Wait, no – isn’t it more of a treatise . . . an in-your-face polemic on the topic of child care? 

Well, actually . . . isn’t it more of a multimedia, multi-sensory experience, with. . . stand-up comedy elements? 

Yes, yes, and yes. This genre-spanning theatrical experience explores the urgent global issue of affordable childcare through a unique, deeply researched and emotionally resonant blend of concert, dance and theatre — all performed a cappella. Universal Child Care takes the trappings of theatre and spotlights the unaccompanied human voice, in order to educate, to storytell, to sing – and to scream, literally and metaphorically — about the challenges and disparities in childcare systems worldwide.

The innovative work is the brainchild of the Quote Unquote Collective, co-founded by Amy Nostbakken and Norah Sadava, and renowned for their previous success Mouthpiece. Commissioned by BroadStage in Santa Monica, in collaboration with Nightwood Theatre, Why Not Theatre, and the National Arts Centre’s National Creation Fund, the play is a testament to the power of collaborative creation in the arts. 

The show’s minimalist set, immediately visible upon entry into the theatre, features four small rooms – stacked in two rows of two. Think of the set of Hollywood Squares. But instead of one of your favorite wisecracking comedians waiting in each box to deliver a prepackaged witticism, it’s one of your favorite industrialized nations – Japan, Great Britain, Canada or the US – that is represented by each box. And within it is a differently-sized and shaped family who is struggling to navigate their country’s child care system. 

Spoiler alert: no matter the country, their situations suck. The only difference is the flavour of suck, which ranges from bizarre to callous to extortionate to perversely Kafkaesque. Indeed, one of the most eye-opening, memorable elements of the show is the international crash course that it provides on the topic of child care availability. Guaranteed to stick with you after the show are the factoids which are interlaced continuously and creatively. For instance, I was especially bowled over by the fact that the US is the only industrialized nation with no requirement for paid parental leave, and by the unique bureaucratic sadism of the Japanese child care system. 

Under the direction of Amy Nostbakken, a diverse, talented and gorgeously-voiced ensemble – including Joema Frith, Germaine Konji, Norah Sadava, Alex Samaras, Fiona Sauder, Takako Segawa, and Anika Venkatesh — bring these rooms’ individual family situations to life, and come together at times for rousing and moving ensemble numbers. Meanwhile, Mónica Garrido Huerta plays a different role. A comedian who engages directly with the audience, she delivers mini -stand up sets while sardonically prodding the audience to react. She’s funny. She’s charismatic. And – unlike the byzantine child care systems which come with no user manual –  she is our guide to Universal Child Care, mediating the experience and telling us how, when and to what degree to react.   

The production’s patchwork approach to genre (which echoes the four nations’ patchwork approach to childcare) is joltingly effective at realizing both the human costs of the system and the inhuman forces behind it. The songs run the gamut from aching tear-jerkers focused on the characters’ situations to blunt-nosed (yet just as sweetly voiced) explication of the forces arrayed against the characters. 

And at moments, entertainment gives unapologetic way to education – most notably when Fiona Sauder’s character uncorks a dizzying, devastating and detailed history lesson. Too fast to follow fully, it traces the four nations’ unique paths and shared failures to provide childcare over the past century. Along the way, multimedia elements – most notably impersonal text elements which appear and glide over the backdrop – juxtapose with personal, raw and purely sonic eruptions.   

Bottom line: this show succeeds in making you think deeply about this subject. The show left me curious whether its critique of Canada’s lack of universal child care is fully true – or whether Quebec, with its long-lauded system of affordable care, should be exempted. I was also left wondering about the status of the federal and provincial governments’ recent agreements to fund the mass expansion of $10 a day child care. (This is a subject that parents of young children in the audience will have a personal perspective on. For the rest of us, it’s a welcome opportunity for extra-credit study after the show.) 

Ultimately, Universal Child Care builds to a peak that is preachy, pointed and in your face. Looking us straight in the eye, it appeals to our rationality by voicing the show’s naked thesis statement: if the first 5 years of a child’s life are universally acknowledged to be the most critical for their development . . . why do we universally make it so difficult, even impossible, for parents in our industrialized (read rich) nations to access child care? The show teeters right on the edge of stridency . . . before saving itself through a sequence of visceral audience interactions whose emotional counterweight makes us feel how deeply this is our shared problem. 

Universal Child Care defies easy definition but delivers poignancy and sharp insight — and the motivation and space for curiosity, anger and aspiration about this important topic. The production runs until February 25, 2024, at the Berkeley Street Theatre. For tickets, visit canadianstage.com. Canadian Stage has partnered with Balancing Act Canada and The Jamii Hub to offer three free onsite childcare options for parents attending the Sunday, February 25th matinee of Universal Child Care. To reserve a spot or for more information, click here.

© Scott Sneddon, SesayArts Magazine, 2024