Musical a hip-hop hit
Fast, funny and cool, it's everything a Fringe show should be

If you've never checked out The Fringe, then JOB: The HipHop Musical would be an awesome place to start...  

So... why should you start with JOB: The HipHop Musical?

Because it's everything a Fringe show ought to be, but seldom is: It's fast, it's funny, it's hip, it's hot, it's cool. It has something to say, but it doesn't take itself too seriously saying it.

Do you remember the story of Job from the Bible? He was one of God's most faithful servants, and so the Almighty decided to test his loyalty. He took everything away that Job held dear — his family, his riches, and his health. But in the end, after some near moments, the man stood true.

When I heard that this story had been turned into a "HipHop Musical" I was afraid, very afraid. I had visions of terribly rhymed scenes clicking through the catalogue of pain. In the original, Job wound up with boils and I kept dreading what they'd rhyme it with: spoils? moils?

I hadn't counted on the mad invention of Eli Batalion and Jerome Saibil, the two Montreal guys behind Foqué dans la tête Productions.

Their previous Fringe-style productions have included works with titles like Carl Rosensweig, How Was Your Vasectomy? and last year's hit, Everything You Wanted to Know About Yourself But Were Afraid to Ask Freud.

With titles like that, you shouldn't expect a traditional take on things. And that isn't what you get.

But what are two nice Jewish boys doing with hip hop? Maybe they should call themselves Vanilla Oys? Is this a case of totally misguided cultural appropriation?

Relax. Not only is it relevant to their story, but they honour the form as well.

Their show is constructed just like a hip hop album, with nine tracks, complete with intros and extros. The music by Batalion, Saibil and Paul Bercovitch has the structure down, but they allow themselves some sly in jokes like sampling Mozart and the Beatles as part of their tracks.

The lyrics are mile-a-minute fast and can't-stop-laughing funny. If Stephen Sondheim had grown up in the hood, he might have written like this. It's not every day you find this genre rhyming "Scientology" with "apology" or "Draconian" with "Smithsonian," but it's all good.

It works so well, because their hero, Job Lowe (or "Joe Blow", depending on how you pronounce it) works for Hoover records, a company that specializes in — you guessed it — hip hop. We follow him up and down the corporate ladder as he makes it big and then has everything stripped away from him.

Batalion and Saibil not only know the recording industry, they have a pretty good grasp of human psychology as well and this bright, tight hour packs a lot of truth hidden behind the laughs.

But Batalion and Saibil the authors also owe a debt to Batalion and Saibil the performers. They walk the walk, they talk the talk, they got the moves, they got the grooves. Batalion has the smirk, Saibil favours the leer. They make one hell of a double act.

They cleverly play all nine characters in the piece, but they keep shifting their portrayals, so your perspective is always changing. Their rapid-fire gifts of Uzi-styled delivery are only matched by their Cote St. Luc dance breaks. They work hard but they never show the strain. Nice.

The set is bare except for two towels and they wear nothing but tracksuits and head kerchiefs. If you need one more indication of the kind of humour they're dishing out, hit the program credits: "Costumes by Old Navy, Towels by Ralph Lauren."

You've gotta love a pair of guys like that.

— Richard Ouzounian