When you hear "puppet show", what do you think of? I'm pretty confident in saying that it's likely not what is offered up by the Old Trout Puppet Workshop's show Famous Puppet Death Scenes.

Instead of a playful children's piece, this depicts scenes of puppet death. Many puppet deaths. 22 to be exact. Some funny, some gruesome, some funny AND gruesome, and some that are just utterly beautiful. But here's my promise to you - when you go to this show you will laugh. In fact, you'll be laughing in the face of death, making it an act of bravery, right?

When it first premiered at Theatre Passe Muraille 28 years ago, Judith Thompson's The Crackwalker was a kind of lighning rod for Canadian drama. Not only did it mark the arrival of a major new theatrical voice, but it signalled a new maturity among Canadian playwrights. Grit and brutal honesty had arrived.

Staged and Confused's production of The Crackwalker, also at Theatre Passe Muraille, is a worthy tribute to the significance of that first production. But it fails to generate any relevance of its own or achieve the resonance of its forebearer. Legacy, as it turns out, can be a tricky burden to bear.

Sometimes you are lucky enough to get two for the price of one. You get that with Obsidian Theatre's double bill of Late and Black Medea playing at the Berkeley theatre.

The two plays have completely different tones - although they have similar thematic feeling with discussions of loss and family and identity - which makes it a great evening. The first show, Late, is funny and heartwarming with moments of sadness alternated with great guffaws. The second, Black Medea, is an intense exploration into the characters' psyches that drew me in with symbolism, dance and mischievous spirits.

Up until this Tuesday, I knew exactly three things about Norway. 1) Vikings come from there. 2) My friend Magnus lives there. Sadly, he is not a Viking. 3) It has fjords. And presumably Fords, although that's far less interesting from a tourism perspective.

But thanks to Theatre Smash's superb production of Norway.Today, I know a fourth thing about the Scandinavian nation: it is home to a 2000 feet-high cliff called the Preikestolen. Not only is it a scenic wonder, it's also an ideal place for the histrionically-inclined to off themselves. And, as it turns out, the backdrop for a very interesting piece of theatre.

Second City's Barack to the Future delivers exactly what you expect from a Second City revue - lots of laughs, and not too much deep thinking. Which, frankly, is sometimes exactly what the doctor ordered.

Also as expected, some stuff fell a bit flat, but the joy of this kind of thing is that even if I don't like a bit there's bound to be others there who do like it, and for the stuff that made me snort with laughter (I really wish that was a turn of phrase, but I actually caught myself snorting in a couple places, definitely the professional image I want to portray) made other people roll their eyes and not really react.

Second City's Barack to the Future delivers exactly what you expect from a Second City revue - lots of laughs, and not too much deep thinking. Which, frankly, is sometimes exactly what the doctor ordered.

Also as expected, some stuff fell a bit flat, but the joy of this kind of thing is that even if I don't like a bit there's bound to be others there who do like it, and for the stuff that made me snort with laughter (I really wish that was a turn of phrase, but I actually caught myself snorting in a couple places, definitely the professional image I want to portray) made other people roll their eyes and not really react.