Published Winter 2025

What do you think when a person tells you they have tickets to the theatre? Do you imagine a pleasant diversion? Perhaps envy them for having the time to "spare"? Or do you assume they are deep and contemplative for seeking out such entertainment?

Your answer may be a telltale giveaway of your perspective on happiness.

Happiness is complex—oftentimes frustratingly so. The emotion is anchored to different ideals for different individuals.

If you kneel at the altar of love, happiness is a cherished space between people overflowing with purpose

If you bow to the Dow Jones and live to work, happiness is the satisfaction of goals reached and pockets lined.

If you hail freedom to pursue blessed hobbies and unrolling interests, happiness is the enjoyment of relaxation.

Complicated entity that it is, happiness is not comprised of one single thing. It cannot chase after satisfaction and abandon purpose or bask in enjoyment with no mind for satisfaction. Happiness is more mathematical than that. As Euclid's Axioms states: "The whole is greater than the part."

Arthur C. Brooks is an expert in the pieces making up the happiness puzzle. The author of multiple New York Times bestsellers, including 2023's Build the Life You Want: The Art and Science of Getting Happier, co-authored with Oprah Winfrey, Brooks is a Harvard professor and PhD social scientist with firm footing in pop-culture as a happiness expert. His status as a self-help guru is evident from the popularity of his podcast The Art of Happiness with Arthur Brooks, his Atlantic Monthly column (a dedicated source of how-to-be-happy advice) and, of course, having his life story celebrated in a 2019 documentary titled The Pursuit. Similarly, his influence as a thought-leader is the stuff of icons, with appearances on stage alongside Barack Obama and working relationships with organizations spanning from cool kids at SXSW to tech titans the likes of Google through to international think tanks, when not lecturing at the Harvard Kennedy School and Harvard Business School.

Shifting between efforts to improve public policy for human welfare and time spent deciphering happiness by way of neuroscience combined with philosophy traditions may seem an odd choice. Really, though, both are a matter of service, and service is grounded in community. For Brooks, the idea of community plays deep into his happiness equation: Happiness = Enjoyment + Satisfaction + Purpose. The trio equating the big "H" in this formula—enjoyment, purpose and satisfaction—are what Brooks categorizes as the macronutrients of happiness.

Given you can't subtract people from this formula, it comes as no surprise that Brooks is an advocate of "time spent interacting with people," advice directly challenged by the advent of social media. Today, talk of "happiness" unavoidably triggers debate around social media, nemesis to the aforementioned big "H." Brooks, like many other social scientists, has thoughts on this rocky relationship. His ideas for remedying the effects of social media on our emotional lives look to finding meaning in the company of others. "A great remedy to the loneliness of social media is communal activities, to be sure," says Brooks. "Getting away from screens and having more social experiences, like the theatre, is key in becoming happier."

In an age of Facetune, social media is a manufacturer of Baudrillard's hyperreal, replacing what is genuine with a more appealing, i.e., fake, interpretation of its subject matter—inclusive of human connection. This, as Brooks indicates, is where the threat to our emotional wellbeing comes in. "Lots of science proves that this is terrible for our happiness—the longer we spend on social media, we literally have less neurophysiological capacity to connect with and love others," he explains. "As such, it is important to decrease your time on social media and simultaneously increase your time spent interacting with people."

The domino surge of connection that charges a theatre is everything to Bobby Garcia. A stage director and producer, Garcia makes his debut in Stratford this year with the musical comedy Dirty Rotten Scoundrels. Garcia is passionate when speaking about how he sees his chosen art form bringing happiness to its audience. He declares, "Musical theatre operates on joy." Garcia evidently gravitates toward stories that can attest to as much; the last show he produced, Here Lies Love, created by David Byrne of Talking Heads and musician Fatboy Slim, was a Broadway hit with four Tony nominations, heralded by Vogue as "a life giving, roof-raising, blast of pure joy."

Joyful narratives bring their audience enjoyment as they watch. That's precisely why Garcia is excited to stage Dirty Rotten Scoundrels in Stratford. "It's wickedly funny," he says of the musical. First seen on Broadway with 3rd Rock from the Sun–funnyman John Lithgow leading the laughs, Garcia's production casts Jonathan Goad (Stratford's hilarious King Arthur from Monty Python's Spamalot back in 2023) in the role of a hustler ready to cheat and break hearts on his way to getting a dime.

Enjoyment, like the kind Garcia hopes to deliver to his audience, is first on Brooks's list of happiness macronutrients—not to be "confused with pleasure," he warns. "Enjoyment takes elements of pleasure, but it adds two important components: people and memory," clarifies Brooks. "Happily, theatre does just that. By being part of the theatre community, you're not, say, watching YouTube videos of theatre in bed. On the contrary, you are creating lasting memories with others in the spirit of love."

Garcia couldn't agree more. While he suggests his show is a good source of levity for anyone who feels the weight of an overwhelming world, he perceives the urge to "seek refuge in comedy" to offer more than an escape. Theatre surrounds one with people and fosters a space for interaction, particularly with a comedy like Dirty Rotten Scoundrels. "Humour works better when it's communal. When you watch a movie in the theatre, it's funnier than when you watch it at home by yourself in your pajamas. Humour is contagious." And that is wondrous to Garcia: "It's just so great to feel that there's something that connects us."

Outside of the theatre, the larger reality that connects us as citizens of the globe is an ebb and flow of peace and unrest, varying in degrees according to our pin on the map. As the oracle of this reality, the news media can feel like a conductor, orchestrating our society's happiness; we swing from comfort to uncertainty with its every breaking update. Most would agree, uncertainty feels rotten. For some, the desire to avoid this feeling switches on flight mode and kicks up willful ignorance. This, though, says Brooks is no way about happiness—a view reflected in director/choreographer Donna Feore's reason for wanting to stage Annie this year. "Annie is a wonderful show with a great message for right now," she says. "Set in a time of great trouble, it offers great hope."

For Annie, life in 1930s New York ain't grand. Growing up in the Great Depression, between WWI and WWII, the fact that Annie is an orphan under the care of a woman better fit tending to steel dolls is just the icing on a Bundt cake made up of crummy chances. The little girl's approach to her circumstances is the takeaway at the heart of this family classic. "Annie has a message for all of us," says Feore. "Believe in the future, in your future, and work to make it happen." Tackling problems head on with optimism—but more importantly, tenacity—is what has inspired audiences to root for this underdog character since the musical's Tony-winning original Broadway run in the late '70s. Coincidentally, Annie's general approach to life is interchangeable with Brooks's advice on navigating happiness. In both instances, bad things are not something to run away from. Brooks explains, "Getting happier in the deepest sense often requires becoming comfortable with and understanding one's suffering, which is a boon for meaning."

Feore, who promises the musical to be "thought provoking for everyone," can't say enough about the emotional pathway to meaning Annie will lead audiences down, as she searches for "love and belonging." With firm footing in joy and purpose, Annie falls squarely into Brooks's happiness diet. Still, even when hearing Brooks say "we should all aim to have balance and abundance of all three macronutrients of happiness," one can foresee the struggles ravelled in with adherence, specifically the evasiveness of time.

Tracey Flye will direct the 2025 production. Dirty Rotten Scoundrels is dedicated to the memory of Bobby Garcia.

The difficult task of finding time for in-person live events is the reason streaming reigns supreme these days. For busy families, stay-at-home movie nights are a go-to for bonding—they're easy—and affordable. Leisure activities are an added expense whether paid with time or money. The question then becomes, when it comes to spending your weekends playing with a sports club or buying tickets to the theatre, is the cost worth the spend?

"Scholars have put a lot of thought into this. As it happens, you can do five things with your money: buy stuff, buy time, buy experiences, give it away or save it," says Brooks. "In pursuit of leisure, people overwhelmingly use their money for the first option—buying stuff—but this option is also associated with the unhappiest use of money." Brooks suggests skipping the purchase of that new car or the trending pair of sneakers and advises one to "not buy stuff to bring about enjoyment" but instead invest in something built to share. For the highest return on investment, Brooks's recommendation is to "buy experiences with your loved ones." He explains, "It's nearly always 'worth the spend' when you buy experiences with others, [like] tickets to the theatre or to watch your team play."

Toronto-based playwright and director Kat Sandler is counting on parents siding with her production of Anne of Green Gables when choosing between a new toy or introducing their children to Lucy Maud Montgomery's iconic young heroine. Commissioned to adapt the novel for the Festival's Schulich Children's Play this season, Sandler is confident when speaking about the importance of Montgomery's story, depicting a tenacious orphan girl who builds a family and a community around her through kindness and perseverance. "It's a story you're able to bond over."

Finding purpose in the things we do and choose to expose ourselves to is part of Brooks's nutritious happiness diet. And while Sandler describes her play's protagonist as an "inherently funny character," this doesn't take away from the fact that we can all extract meaning from Anne's journey. A fan of Montgomery's novel since she was a young girl, the director has become ever closer with her fictional hero since working on the script for Stratford's new stage adaptation and feels strongly when specifying Anne of Green Gables is "not just lighthearted." There's infinitely more revelations to be derived from the coming-of-age tale than such a description permits. To Sandler, Anne of Green Gables is "incredibly poignant and sensitive"—and also timeless.

The story's contemporary relevance acted as a compass during the playwright's work reimaging the novel for stage. "It's such a beautiful story that sometimes you want to get out of its way." Having come back to the novel in her adult years for this project, Sandler has experienced firsthand its perennial wisdom. "The story gains meaning depending on what stage in your life you're in." Sandler emphasizes how Anne models a "willingness to laugh and smile in the face of adversity"—a long-lasting life lesson. She goes on to point to insightful narrative themes of "acceptance, coming home, belonging and changing a community" preserved in her script. The director passionately endorses seeing the play with family and friends; hands folded over her chest, she says knowingly, "You want to be with someone when you experience those emotional beats."

The conviction Sandler speaks with quickly convinces one of both the connection theatre forges among audiences finding collective enjoyment in a story unfolding before them, and the meaning found in enlivening children's minds with early exposure to a live theatre experience. "You don't need these fantastical, expensive sets," argues Sandler. "You just have to believe in magic."

The spectacular draw of theatre magic is something Jackie Maxwell knows well. The former artistic director of the Shaw Festival from 2002 to 2016, Maxwell is a Festival regular who returns this season to direct Ransacking Troy, a howl of a Trojan War reboot that dares to ask how this legend would alter if the all-but-invisible women of Troy (Helen, aka "the face that launched a thousand ships," doesn't count) were to step out of their homes and into the unknown.

A director with a penchant for stories that are "brave and mixed," Maxwell's Ransacking Troy is a comedy, "a great adventure story," and a play with something to say. Different in makeup than Anne of Green Gables or even Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, Ransacking Troy hands out as many laughs as conversation starters. Maxwell's understanding of the balance between the play's funny moments and the significance of its female protagonist's story arc speaks to the way the play is infused with meaning. "The humour is always sort of absurd," she comments. But like all good comedy, therein lies the genius. As Maxwell explains, the absurdity is a cloak and dagger slight-of-mind meant to reveal the story's characters to audience esteem. "You really get to admire what these women set out to do."

One might think that the happiness derived from lighthearted content verses content disguising topics of the day under comedy would be higher, but Brooks doesn't see it that way. "Both have the potential to make you happier, but most likely in different ways," he says. "A lighthearted musical will likely elicit enjoyment. This type of musical is simple, fun and a great bonding experience with friends and family. On the other hand, an intense socio-political play may not bring about much enjoyment—especially if it is triggering your anger and fear—but, in the best cases, it can bring about something else: meaning, another macronutrient of happiness."

Written by Erin Shields, Ransacking Troy is a feast of meaning, sitting firmly in the playwrights' wheelhouse of recontextualizing classical texts by filtering them through a feminist lens for a modern audience. The result, in this case, is what Maxwell describes as "an amended, newly looked at" journey through the Iliad and the Odyssey. Like her previous collaboration with Shields for the Festival, Paradise Lost, which earned high praise from critics including The Globe and Mail—"the emotional impact and complexity of this most well-known of stories grows"—Ransacking Troy promises a hearty helping of food for thought. After awaiting the return of their husbands for nearly a decade, the wives of Troy's soldiers embark on a mission to retrieve their spouses and put an end to the Trojan War. The journey, Maxwell guarantees, will be "a lot of fun" to watch, as these would-be Trojan heroes toss around ideas, modern in their questioning. The director shares, "Very often through the play [the women] talk about 'what is the world that we want?'"

With plays like Ransacking Troy, a theatre ticket can act as a crack in the doorway to self-discovery and even societal change. Brooks touches on this phenomenon. "The cathartic experience derived from watching a thought-provoking play might motivate you to make a real difference in the world," he postulates. "You might, for the first time, understand what you've been put on Earth to do. A socio-political play could be the ignition for deeper meaning in your life."

Just as happiness is different things for different people, so is theatre. For example, take Brooks. As a young man, he was a professional French hornist; now as an adult, live entertainment is something personal and nostalgic. "I cherish my memories of playing in front of an audience," he says. "Specifically because I had a community around me who shared my interest." Today, he likes to "sit on the sidelines and enjoy the music" of any given performance. It brings him happiness. This is his unique reason for choosing to watch a live performance, which would be different than mine and mine would be different than yours. Maybe you are looking for a chance to bond over a good story. Or, you could want to immerse yourself in a narrative that feels different than your own. Perhaps instead—possibly also—you seek a mirror or window to encourage contemplative thought. Whatever the reason, happiness, or more specifically being happier, can be a part of the outcome if one adapts Brooks's advice to "focus on the macronutrient in which you're deficient," turning it, even, into a reason to visit the theatre. Low on enjoyment? Try reconnecting with a friend, seated beside them at a musical. In want of purpose? See what ideas percolate in your head after watching a story about your own community on stage. It may seem like a small step, but what feel like minor choices do add up, as Brooks's happiness formula theorizes. And, hopefully, they also become habit-forming.

The advantage of this is in Brooks's answer to his most commonly asked question: Can we learn to be happy? "No," maintains Brooks. "But we can learn to be happier." Happiness, he stresses, is not a final destination—"this state, of course, doesn't exist"—we can only do as he recommends and "practice superb habits to put us on a path to 'happierness.'" Follow the breadcrumbs... they may just lead you to the theatre.