We be clubbing, apparently.
As the reporters covering Jack Layton's campaign tour followed him around on Tuesday, the one item on the day's itinerary that stuck out like a sore thumb was an anti-Harper concert in Montreal scheduled for that evening. The event, billed as a big bash against Conservative leader Stephen Harper's arts funding cuts, seemed a little too Rock Star for a leaders' tour.
Here's how it went: The huge, hugely conspicuous, hugely orange NDP bus pulled up at around 7 p.m. to the door of Club Soda, a popular hangout located just a stone's throw from Montreal's 35th-finest strip club. As we got out, it became clear that, at 26, I would be among the older people here who wasn't running for political office or working for someone who was. Uber-stylish teens and 20-somethings littered the place, waiting to get in to what was a strong contender for hottest ticket in town.
Fortunately, we got in with ease, thanks to the VIP treatment the NDP had secured by virtue of Mr. Layton's appearance. Very quickly, we were let in and shown to the seating area upstairs, away from the riff-raff occupying the dance floor below.
We were standing around waiting for Mr. Layton and dodging the steady stream of partiers and waitresses, when Bloc Québécois leader Gilles Duceppe walked in. Just as he began working the room, shaking hands with the various VIPs, Mr. Layton arrived. For one brilliant moment, they stood across the VIP area looking at one another, surrounded by their respective bodyguards. I waited for everybody to start snapping their fingers, thus initiating the world's worst West Side Story remake.
But instead, before a wildly cheering crowd and overwhelming techno music, the two approached one another and shared a hug.
Oh, and then Liberal MP Denis Coderre showed up too.
By 7:15, MPs from Canada's three major opposition parties were sitting in their own little corners of Club Soda's VIP area, making loud small talk over thumping techno beats. Given the usual accompaniment of black-suit-and-earpiece bodyguards that travel with party leaders, the club quickly began to resemble some sort of nuclear launch code storage room. Before the first act took to the stage, Mr. Layton moved to one corner of the upstairs area to hold a quick scrum with reporters. I'd love to give you a quote, but I was too busy being pushed aside by a phalanx of awkwardly positioned bodyguards. Moments later, Mr. Duceppe gave his own scrum. I'd love to tell you what he said, but, you know, bodyguards.
This is generally why it's not a great idea to hold a scrum in a crowded nightclub.
The show got under way a few minutes later, when a prominent Quebec comedian took to the stage to tell the crowd that it would be good if Canadians were represented abroad by more than just the army. And with that, the evening really got started. The stage alternated between impossibly good-looking young musicians (and at least one guy whose primary talent appeared to involve smacking the hell out of his laptop in time with the beat), and impassioned rants against the Conservatives and their arts cuts. Indeed, those responsible for the rants spoke with the kind of furious passion that is normally only mustered by soap opera actors, extremely evangelical pastors, and those with only a few minutes to live. In turn, the audience applauded every syllable.
The MPs, on the other hand, were far more subdued. With dozens of cameras documenting their every facial expression, the politicians did what most politicians do when they find themselves at one of these events – they clapped politely and tapped their feet to the music.
An aside: Turns out it's quite easy to determine the casualness of an event based on the number of unbuttoned buttons on Mr. Layton's shirt – one for policy announcements, two for informal meetings with supporters and, it turns out, three for club gigs.
The NDP contingent left the club around 8, just after the myriad VIPs – which appeared to include half of Quebec's cultural community – were introduced to the crowd.
For those who like to keep score, here's how that turned out: Mr. Duceppe and Mr. Layton each brought the house down, though with some boos. Mr. Coderre got mostly boos.
One can only imagine the reception that Conservative MPs would have received, had any shown up.
