Kristin’s Reviews - FringeMTL 2026
Jimmy Hogg: MASHED
As I headed to Mile End Improv to see Jimmy Hogg: Mashed, my expectations were as high as the June humidity levels. This solo comedic storytelling show came with zero logline, leaving me completely in the dark. But my evening of surprises started way before I even arrived at the venue, thanks to my own genius decision to forget my walking shoes and instead leave the house in $5 dollar flip-flops. A bold choice when navigating a physical disability, and you are parked three blocks from your destination. My unplanned workout wasn’t over as I was welcomed by a giant staircase with a partially missing railing that looked like a bad math equation. This was followed by a long trek down a hallway. Let’s just say, I’m glad I skipped the gym. Escaping into the venue, I was blessed by cool air and a place to rest my feet. Eureka! The space is small but open, with a black-box vibe and seating for around 50 people. As a performer, I love these intimate spaces; they give off an immediate, conversational chemistry. And honestly, that is exactly what Mashed delivered. It’s a highly energetic show, filled with hilarious conversation and an effortlessly cool human. Sure, Jimmy did most, or all of the talking… a lot of talking. But the crowd was locked in and roaring with laughter.
The stage setting was minimal, consisting of a small table and chair set off to the side. And the lighting? Simple and unchanged. Sound? Non-existent. Well, except for the sound of Jimmy’s voice and the recording on his laptop. All thanks to the beautiful unpredictability of live theatre, Jimmy’s audio cues vanished into thin air. Yet, I adored this part. What do you do when you are thrown a curveball during a live performance? If you’re Jimmy, you crack jokes, dash on stage with your laptop to play the pre-show announcement and add an unscripted portion to the show. This performer is an improvising genius who handles theatrical unpredictability with laugh-out-loud grace.
The performance went full steam ahead. As someone who’s hard of hearing, I’ll admit I was a bit stressed at first. Hogg’s high energy, mixed with relentless, fast-paced dialogue, had me worried I had missed a crucial narrative. I mean, one minute he’s telling us about his girlfriend, Kate, and hitchhiking to meet the family, and the next he’s executing physical comedy by showing us how to look cool sitting in a chair, before pivoting into the unwanted spreading of head lice. But I’d worried for nothing; I caught every single word. It was anything but messy. A beautifully calculated smorgasbord of mini-stories that came together into a story about youth, falling in love, and the desperate struggle to keep being cool.
Hogg is the kind of performer who refuses to stand on the sidelines of his own stage; instead, he uses the entire space and his whole body, leaning into the audience's real-time reactions.
Mashed is full of Fringe energy. A triumphant display of comedic solo storytelling. So if you’ve ever hitchhiked, been in love, suffered through head lice, or spent way too long overthinking your sitting position, go see Jimmy Hogg: Mashed. But honestly? Even if you haven’t experienced these things, and you just love to laugh until your belly aches, this show is a must-see.
Buy Tickets
Ballet des Ombres
I had been to O Patro Výš before, so I knew finding a parking spot would be slim to none. And running several blocks to make a curtain is not only an impossibility with this body of mine, but it’s also not my jam. So, I left my car safely tucked away on Sainte-Catherine. Ubering would get me there quickly and without injury. But my heart was still racing as I remembered the only way to the venue was up. That staircase that guards the entrance is daunting. I made it to the top, but not without breaking a serious sweat.
The space inside is open yet intimate, with a small bar at the back—absolute perfection when craving a cold drink in the melting heat. I found a spot near the back. The room was already dimly lit, the stage dark and empty except for a light table off to the side and a projection screen against the back wall. It felt like I was waiting to watch an old-school movie. Then whimsical music filled the space, and the screen lit up with graceful hand movements and trickling sand.
The lighting was perfectly catered to the performance. The dark lighting in the room amplified the warm glow of the table as the sand shifted into creative silhouettes. The "script" was a non-verbal narrative that made me think of a contemporary dance. The movements were slow and calculated, building into a rich visual storytelling.
Catherine Gignac is masterful in her artistry. The performance was a magical experience, both on the screen and off. I often caught myself pivoting to the light table to watch her hands dance with the sand.
I found myself captivated by the art, so much so that I was forgetting to analyze its meaning. I first thought maybe it was a romantic tragedy where two people meet, fall in love, and ultimately get separated by something evil. But a quick chat with Gignac after the show revealed my theory wasn't entirely correct. It did, however, highlight the piece's fluid power and remind me that everyone interprets art differently.
Gignac was in harmony with the classical music. Her hand movements were perfectly timed, and the images transitioned smoothly and flawlessly. In forty-five minutes, I saw the sunrise, the rain fall, a city being built, a woman crying, and even our galaxy’s planets.
Ballet des Ombres offered a unique artistic encounter that completely swept me up. This show is for anyone looking to experience something different, who loves being stimulated by imagination, is open to interpretation, and appreciates the calming power of instrumentals paired with the nostalgic playfulness of drawing in the sand.
Buy Tickets
An Autistic Priest and a Dog
Thursday night in Montreal was hotter than hot. If that’s even a thing. I chose my car over the REM, which turned out to be a stroke of genius. Attempting the travel on foot would’ve felt like walking uphill in the desert barefoot. Thankfully, the parking gods were also smiling upon me. My success rate at finding a spot in this city is usually like trying to find a dropped contact lens in a crowded room. Anyway, onward to Théâtre Sainte Catherine, a quick and even-grounded walk away. This was my first time at this venue, and I was immediately charmed. It’s ground-level, so zero climbing required. At the front, a welcoming café provided the perfect refreshments to quench my thirst before I headed into the performance space at the back.
Before going into the show, I had an idea of what to expect based on the logline—comedy, religion, and neurodiversity. Though I purposely left my assumptions at the door. And as it turns out, that was my takeaway for the evening: don’t presume to know everything about a person based on a single thing. Jean-Daniel Ó Donncada offers the audience a powerful message through a perfect mix of humour and heart. That message is clear before you even enter, as patrons are offered a pamphlet and colouring crayons, letting people know that not only are there no light or sound changes, but it’s also a relaxed performance that allows you the freedom to just be. As someone who constantly moves around to find comfort, I felt at ease shifting about without worrying about disturbing the show.
The stage design is simple: a backpack, a stool holding an iPad, and a projection screen that displays stained glass, mimicking a church window on the back wall. Jean-Daniel stands by the iPad and begins to address his "Youth Group." I was concerned at first that the show might feel like a lecture, but I was pleasantly surprised. Rather than a monotonous academic feel, the visuals from the projector were a great addition not only for comedic relief but also for context. In a humorous and effective way, Jean-Daniel offers a perspective on how ridiculous rumours can spread when we pass judgment. It’s the kind of storytelling that drums up all the feels. It makes you laugh until you cry and unexpectedly pulls at your heartstrings when you least expect it.
The casualness of Jean-Daniel’s performance was both infectious and engaging. There’s a magnetic vulnerability in the way he speaks to the room. I found myself wanting to sit down with him and tell this complete stranger my life story. I must admit, I did have a little help feeling comfortable. Rilla, Jean-Daniel’s service dog, was lying on the floor next to me. And there’s just something calming about a gentle-eyed, furry pup breathing softly next to you in a crowded room.
An Autistic Priest and a Dog left me in deep thought. I was still talking about it the next morning, and honestly, it’s still on my mind as I write this review. If you appreciate a relaxed, friendly performance that lets you be you and breathe easy, together with a performer who makes you burst into side-splitting laughter, then go see this show. Don’t assume you know what it’s about. Go check it out for yourself—I’m so glad I did.
